#Catherine Deneuve Portrait

Cannes 1984 

Contax RTS  Carl Zeiss T* Tessar 200mm f/3,5 Agfapan 100

Catherine Fabienne Dorléac (born 22 October 1943), known professionally as Catherine Deneuve , is a French actress as well as an occasional singer, model and producer, considered one of the best European actresses and the greatest French actress of all time.. She gained recognition for her portrayal of icy, aloof and mysterious beauties for various directors, including Luis Buñuel, François Truffaut and Roman Polanski. In 1985, she succeeded Mireille Mathieu as the official face of Marianne, France's national symbol of liberty. A 14-time César Award nominee, she won for her performances in Truffaut's The Last Metro (1980), for which she also won the David di Donatello for Best Foreign Actress, and Régis Wargnier's Indochine (1992).

Deneuve made her film debut in 1957 and first came to prominence in Jacques Demy's 1964 musical The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. She went on to star in such films as Repulsion (1965), Donkey Skin (1970), Belle de Jour (1967), Tristana (1970) and The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967) opposite her sister, the actress Françoise Dorléac. She was nominated for the BAFTA Award for Best Actress for Belle de Jour, and the Academy Award for Best Actress for Indochine. She also won the 1998 Volpi Cup for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival for Place Vendôme. Other notable English-language films include The April Fools (1969), Hustle (1975), The Hunger (1983) and Dancer in the Dark (2000).

Deneuve was born Catherine Fabienne Dorléac in Paris, the daughter of French stage actors Maurice Dorléac (1901–1979) and Renée Simonot (b. 1911). Deneuve has two sisters, Françoise Dorléac (1942–1967) and Sylvie Dorléac (born 14 December 1946), as well as a maternal half-sister, Danielle, whom their mother had out of wedlock in 1937 with Aimé Clariond, but who was later adopted by Maurice and took his surname. Deneuve was her mother's maiden name, which she chose for her stage name, in order to differentiate herself from her sisters. Deneuve attended Catholic schools .

Deneuve made her film debut with a small role in André Hunebelle's Les Collégiennes (1957) with her younger sister Sylvie Dorléac who, like their older half-sister Danielle, was an occasional child actress. She subsequently appeared in several films for director Roger Vadim as well as in L'Homme à femmes (1960), which caught the eye of Jacques Demy, who cast Deneuve in his 1964 musical Les Parapluies de Cherbourg, the film that brought her to stardom. Deneuve played the cold but erotic persona, for which she would be nicknamed the "ice maiden", in Roman Polanski's horror classic Repulsion (1965), reinforcing it in Luis Buñuel's Belle de Jour (1967), and reaching a peak in Tristana (1970).Her work for Buñuel would be her most famous .

Further prominent films from this early time in her career included Jean-Paul Rappeneau's A Matter of Resistance (1966), Demy's musical Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (1967) and François Truffaut's romantic thriller Mississippi Mermaid (1969). Deneuve remained active in European films during the 1960s and 1970s, though she limited her appearances in American films of the period to The April Fools (1969), a romantic comedy with Jack Lemmon, and Hustle (1975), a crime drama with Burt Reynolds. Her starring roles at the time were featured in such films as A Slightly Pregnant Man (1973) with Marcello Mastroianni and Le Sauvage (1975) with Yves Montand.

In the 1980s, Deneuve's films included François Truffaut's Le Dernier métro (1980), for which she won the César Award for Best Actress, and Tony Scott's The Hunger (1983) as a bisexual vampire, co-starring with David Bowie and Susan Sarandon, a role which brought her a significant lesbian and cult following, mostly among the gothic subculture. She made her debut film as a producer in 1988, Drôle d'endroit pour une rencontre, alongside frequent co-star Gerard Depardieu.

In the early 1990s, Deneuve's more significant roles included 1992's Indochine opposite Vincent Perez, for which she was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress and won a second César Award for Best Actress; and André Téchiné's two movies, Ma saison préférée (1993) and Les Voleurs (1996). In 1997, Deneuve was the protagonist in the music video for the song N'Oubliez Jamais sung by Joe Cocker. In 1998 she won acclaim and the Volpi Cup at the Venice Film Festival for her performance in Place Vendôme. In the late 1990s, Deneuve continued to appear in a large number of films such as 1999's five films Est-Ouest, Le temps retrouvé, Pola X, Belle maman, and Le Vent de la nuit.

In 2000, Deneuve's part in Lars von Trier's musical drama Dancer in the Dark alongside Icelandic singer Björk was subject to considerable critical scrutiny. The film was selected for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. She made another foray into Hollywood the following year, starring in The Musketeer (2001) for Peter Hyams. In 2002, she shared the Silver Bear Award for Best Ensemble Cast at the Berlin International Film Festival for her performance in 8 Women. In 2005, Deneuve published her diary A l'ombre de moi-meme ("In My Own Shadow", published in English as Close Up and Personal: The Private Diaries of Catherine Deneuve); in it she writes about her experiences shooting the films Indochine and Dancer in the Dark. She also provided the voice role of Marjane Satrapi's mother in Satrapi's animated autobiographical film Persepolis (2007), based on the graphic novel of the same name. In 2008, she appeared in her 100th film, Un conte de Noël.

Deneuve's recent work includes Potiche (2010) with frequent co-star Depardieu, Beloved (2011), alongside former co-stars Ludivine Sagnier and Chiara Mastroianni, the popular French adventure comedy Asterix and Obelix: God Save Britannia (2012) with Gerard Depardieu and Valérie Lemercier, screenwriter and director Emmanuelle Bercot's On My Way (2013), Palme D'or winning writer/director Pierre Salvadori's comedy drama In the Courtyard (2014), and André Téchiné's drama In the Name of My Daughter (2014). In 2017, she co-starred alongside Catherine Frot, in writer/director Martin Provost's French drama The Midwife, which has been acquired by Music Box Films for a summer 2017 distribution in the United States.

Deneuve appeared nude in two Playboy pictorials in 1963 and 1965. Her image was used to represent Marianne, the national symbol of France, from 1985 to 1989.[citation needed] As the face of Chanel No. 5 in the late 1970s, she caused sales of the perfume to soar in the United States – so much so that the American press, captivated by her charm, nominated her as the world's most elegant woman. In 1983, American Home Products retained her to represent their cosmetics line and hired world-renowned photographer Richard Avedon to promote its line of Youth Garde cosmetics, for which she famously proclaimed, "Look closely. Next year I will be 40."

She is considered the muse of designer Yves Saint Laurent; he dressed her in the films, Belle de Jour, La Chamade, La sirène du Mississipi, Un flic, Liza and The Hunger. In 1992, she became a model for his skincare line. In 2001, she was chosen as the new face of L'Oréal Paris. In 2006, Deneuve became the third inspiration for the M•A•C Beauty Icon series and collaborated on the colour collection that became available at M•A•C locations worldwide in February that year. Deneuve began appearing in the new Louis Vuitton luggage advertisements in 2007. Deneuve was listed as one of the fifty best-dressed over 50s by the Guardian in March 2013. In July 2017, Deneuve appeared in a video campaign for Louis Vuitton entitled Connected Journeys, celebrating the launch of the brand's Tambour Horizon smartwatch, which also featured celebrities, including Jennifer Connelly, Bae Doona, Jaden Smith and Miranda Kerr.

In 1986, Deneuve introduced her own perfume, Deneuve. She is also a designer of glasses, shoes, jewelry and greeting cards

Deneuve speaks fluent French, Italian and English and has some knowledge of Spanish, though she does not speak the language fluently. Her hobbies and passions include gardening, drawing, photography, reading, music, cinema, fashion, antiques and decoration.

Deneuve has been married once, to photographer David Bailey from 1965 to 1972. She has lived with director Roger Vadim, actor Marcello Mastroianni,cinematographer Hugh Johnson, Spanish model and current television presenter Carlos Lozano, and Canal+ tycoon Pierre Lescure.

Deneuve has two children: actor Christian Vadim, from her relationship with Roger Vadim, and actress Chiara Mastroianni, from her relationship with Marcello Mastroianni. She has five grandchildren.

Deneuve is close friends with the artist Nall and owns some of his works.

On 6 November 2019, BBC News reported that Deneuve suffered a mild stroke and was recuperating in a Paris hospital. Despite the health scare, there was no damage to her motor functions. Five weeks later, she was released from the hospital and spent the remainder of 2019 recuperating at her Paris home.

MIGHTY KINGS: THE FABULOUS DUO BEHIND RICK AND THE GRIFFOPOTAMUS LAUNCH THEIR OWN MERCHANDISE LINE

By Martin Moore | Photos provided by Rick Twombley & Griff King

Over 700,000 followers, on multiple platforms including Instagram, tune into the adventures on Rick and The Griffopotamus, where Rick Twombley and his hubby Griff King project the splendid wonder of a real-life, loving, gay couple while also addressing important themes such as heteronormativity and masc vs. fem.

"Rick and the Griffopotamus are not for everyone," Griff concedes, "but a lot of people seem to connect to what we do, and those are the people we do it for."

Just in time for summer, the duo unveiled their newest venture, the Two Kings Unlimited (a combination of their last names) online retailer that features exclusive Rick and Griff merchandise including pajama onesies, erotic playing cards, a coffee table book and their line of phallic sex toys – molded from the real things. We spoke with the guys from their Atlanta home.

Martin Moore: I just watched your rendition of Mary Poppins' "The Cover is Not the Book" on your YouTube channel. It's incredible!   Rick Twombley: Oh, nice! That is such a fun song, but also extremely challenging. Especially Griff's part toward the end – a total tongue twister and so fast! We practiced it on a drive from Miami to Orlando, had it on repeat for about four hours, but eventually got it. We really wanted to do it because it's not only a great, positive song, but one we can identify with. People often assume a lot about us just off what they see online, so "The Cover is Not the Book" is a good reminder that perception is not reality.

MM: Are you, two big burly men, into show tunes? Griff King: Absolutely! Rick was a professional stage performer for nearly twenty years, with a degree in dance and musical theater. He worked on Broadway, with Cirque du Soleil, Disney and more. I grew up watching movie musicals and Disney with my mom. You'd be hard-pressed to name a musical we don't know every lyric from.

MM: You guys really seem to have fun together. Is that what makes your relationship work so well? RT: It doesn't hurt! If you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone, you need to be able to be dorks, let loose, and bond over common interests. It's a great stress-reliever.

MM: What other crazy hijinks do you get into when you're together? GK: We love spending time with our close friends, hiking, movie nights, and hosting dinners.  Rick is a killer chef! We love to go out dancing, but we're equally happy cuddling on the couch on a Saturday night with our cats, Willow and Ripley.

MM: Who wears the crown in the relationship? GK: In our relationship, we both have strengths where one wears it more than the other. As far as managing our business, Rick is better suited. He's more organized, business-minded, and has a ridiculously good eye for details.

MM: Whose idea was it to launch your wildly popular social page, Rick and the Griffopotamus? RT: The idea for starting a joint social media actually came from our friends, especially after Griff's rendition of “Poor Unfortunate Souls” from The Little Mermaid went viral on Facebook.

MM: Was the idea to make the page a brand?   GK: The original motivation wasn't necessarily to be a brand, but just to create a stage to entertain. Even with our sexier posts, we try to incorporate humor, creativity, fun, and a bit of tongue-in-cheek fantasy. RT: The branding and business side came later when we realized just how much people were wanting to take that journey with us. We started getting requests for calendars and other items.

MM: Are the sex toys your best sellers? RT: Our sex toy line has now sold out five times! New stock is always coming. We also had a line of onesies designed which are absolutely fantastic and available for pre-order. Calendars and an erotic playing card deck based on a series of photos we did on Instagram are also in production.

MM: Tell us about the coffee table book. GK: That's the project we are most excited about! It is an erotic coffee table book, very much inspired by Madonna's "Sex" book from the '90s. We spent the past year traveling to shoot with some legendary photographers like Mike Ruiz, Michael Stokes, and Mack Sturgis. They all captured some extremely mind-blowing and highly NSFW images that we can't wait to share!

MM: What are your world-dominating goals for Two Kings Unlimited? RT: The sky's the limit, really. We have our merchandising and other major projects in the pipeline. We're continuing to grow our social media platforms, and we'll continue to push boundaries and show the reality that a genuine, fun-loving married couple can also be sexual beings who are not ashamed about celebrating and showcasing the erotic elements of their relationship.   GK: We try our best to be role models by living our lives very unapologetically, transparently, and with a huge love of adventure. We want to inspire people who feel trapped or pressured to conform to societal expectations to do the same, embrace their inherent power, and not be shoved into the boxes that society wants them to fit into.

Visit TwoKingsUnlimited.com. Follow on Instagram at Rick_and_the_Griffopotamus.

This was originally published in Wire Magazine Issue 8.2020

Days Grow Colder, We Grow Warmer

Title: Days Grow Colder, We Grow Warmer

Description: Webby and Lena go to a local cider mill, and examine both pumpkins and feelings.

[Read on AO3]

Weblena Week Prompt  Day 6: Spooky

@weblenaweek

Spooky with bonus Date because I didn’t manage anything for that day! Also turned out not so spooky.

Thanks to @soup-du-silence for its the most wonderful time of the year, which inspired this, although moreso with the they went to the cider mill version from Twitter. That wasn’t an excuse to link both in order to make the RB/RT ability easier. You’re welcome.

It was… weird, coming into life fully formed, knowing things she wasn't sure how she knew, like how to walk and talk and that food was necessary for survival and a host of other things. But there was so much she didn't know, like holiday traditions and the dynamics of a real family. She just sort of woke up one day, without any memories of her own, imbued with the image of someone she'd never met (Scrooge McDuck) but for some reason wanted to destroy.

All of that was gone, and Lena de Spell was left with new and fresh memories. Magica, defeated. Her body, returned. Webby, in good health and high spirits. Everything was right in the world, for the first time in her life. Not just pretend right, but right right. No more watching what she said or where she went or who she formed relationships with. No more hiding. No more running.

It was fitting that the first real holiday Lena would have chance to celebrate was Halloween.

She even got into the autumn mood with a slight appearance change, swapping out her faded pink tips for orange, to match the season. The change had been a surprise, biggest of all to Webby, who had gotten used to the familiarity of Lena always being the same. But maybe, they were changing, and growing, like the current season brought change and growth to the world.

The change had resulted in a conversation about holiday customs, wherein Webby had detailed at length several common traditions, like trick or treating, pumpkin carving, pranking, and lots of seasonal baked goods from Mrs. Beakley. The last two were, unsurprisingly, Lena's favorites. Or what she suspected would be her favorites, since she had never participated in any holiday customs.

When Webby learned of this fact, she decided to rectify it immediately, which meant a trip to the local cider mill was in order. She offered to let the boys come along, but they mentioned something about not wanting to spoil her date. This wasn't a date, because a date would mean just her and Lena going somewhere, alone, and if the boys weren't going then… Oh.

But that was silly, neither of them had said this was a date, and she and Lena had done plenty of date-like activities before, which were totally and definitely not dates, because that would imply that they were something more than friends. Lena had previously kept Webby at arm's length, for fear that Magica might harm her, but now that threat was completely null and was there really anything stopping this from being a date, other than the fact that it had not been deemed as such?

Maybe Lena wasn't the dating type, maybe she didn't have feelings for Webby in that way. Maybe those were just irrational fears that held Webby back from even asking, "Is this a date?" as they rode along in the back of the limo, an unusual air of quiet surrounding them.

Lena, normally someone who could not get enough quiet, but simultaneously could not get enough of Webby's voice, noticed the penetrating silence. She would have expected the space between them to be full of visions of whatever awaited them at this "cider mill." Descriptions of activities, plans for the day, that sort of thing, but there was nothing.

Several times Lena almost asked what was wrong, then shut her beak again. She wanted to ask, to know what was bothering her friend, and do what she could to make things better. At the same time, if something bad had happened that Webby was trying to forget, Lena didn't want to dredge it up again.

So she stared out the window, while Webby grasped fistfuls of her skirt in her palms and stole glances at her best friend. Both oblivious to the feelings of the other, which could have easily been resolved by just one of them speaking up. Easier said than done when one was too shy and one was too nervous, or perhaps they both shared a bit of each emotion. It made for great lack of conversation.

However, Webby's mood seemed to improve as their destination came into view. "We're here!" She almost tuck-and-rolled out of the car before it had even stopped, but she knew such an impulsive move would undoubtedly alarm Launchpad. And Lena, temporarily, although very few of Webby's antics surprised her anymore.

So she waited patiently, face pressed to the window, as a familiar barn-looking structure came into view. All worry about date or not date forgotten for the moment, as a flood of happy memories of visiting this same farm with granny rushed into her mind. Now, she could share those same happy memories with Lena.

Webby practically jumped out once the vehicle had stopped moving, and ran off, up the dirt road towards the cider mill. Lena thanked Launchpad for the ride and mentioned they'd call him when they were finished, because technically he was still on-call for Uncle Scrooge.

"Come on!" Webby called over her shoulder, to which Lena hurried up the path after her.

"I'm getting this one!" Webby exclaimed, after they'd both spent several minutes in the pumpkin patch. Mostly Lena just followed Webby as she scurried about, examining gourds, tapping on them to see which were the correct ripeness, making sure there weren't too many blemishes. Although a few odd markings were good for personality, she'd said.

"Can you even carry that?" Lena crossed her arms over her chest amusedly.

"Yes!" Webby hefted the squash above her head. "Which one are you going to get?"

"That whole carving thing sounds really messy and definitely not up my alley."

"You have to get one!" Webby's puppy-dog eyes were almost enough to convince Lena to grab the nearest one. Almost.

"Do I have to carve it?"

"No."

"Do I have to get a big one?"

"No."

"I'll think about it."

Webby looked Lena up and down skeptically. She had hoped that her friend would be as excited as she was about all this. She thought that Lena's first experience with holiday traditions would somehow be magical and wonderful, just as Webby's earliest memories of visiting the cider mill were some of her happiest. Maybe Lena just needed time to get into the spirit of everything.

They tried the corn maze, but even though it changed every year, it was no match for Webby's smarts and they'd made it through in no time. Then they tried a hay ride, which Lena seemed very underwhelmed by. The last activity available was watching some fresh cider be pressed. That seemed to intrigue Lena, a little, probably because it involved a form of destruction. Maybe it was because the result was fresh, hot cider, which Lena had somehow procured two cups of while Webby was full engaged in the pressing process.

The two found some hay bales outside that they could settle onto. Webby set her pumpkin next to herself, then blew on her drink as she stared down into the liquid. Lena mirrored the action, using the paper cup to warm her hands, which always seemed to be cold no matter the weather.

"Are you having fun?" Webby finally prompted, when the cider didn't cool fast enough to occupy her mouth.

Lena glanced over. "You're having fun, right?"

"Yes, but, this was for you."

"Look, I know, Webs, but this isn't quite my style. I like watching you have fun, though. I really do. I may not show it well, but I'm having fun because you're having fun. It's just kind of hard for me to figure out how to show the right emotions. I had to hold back any semblance of feeling for so long, sometimes it still scares me," she tried to take a sip of her cider while she thought of what else to say, which resulted in her burning her beak. "Oh, hey, I got something!" she brightened, remembering her other purchase along with the ciders.

From her sweater pocket she produced something small, white, and roundish. It was a pumpkin, comically small when compared to Webby's, but the shape fit and it was by all accounts, still a pumpkin. "I picked it out. There was a whole basket by the counter. This one seemed the most unique."

So maybe Lena was here mostly because of Webby, but she had still taken the time to pick out her own pumpkin, even if it wasn't large or grand or carvable. And she was smiling as Webby held out her hand to take it, so she could place it atop her own, and Webby noted that it had been Lena's decision to get them the cider. Maybe the activities that she enjoyed weren't the same ones that piqued Lena's interest. They were two very different individuals, after all, and maybe Webby needed to be more considerate about the things Lena would appreciate.

"Is there anything you'd like to do before we head home?"

"Hmm, you know, those cider donuts looked really tasty."

"Yeah, let's get some!" Webby had to admit that Lena was right. She'd also spied the tantalizing offerings as the pair made their way outside, and considered stopping by before they made their departure. It seemed Lena's mind was on the same track.

"You watch the pumpkins and I'll go get us something to eat," Lena offered.

Webby glanced down at her barely touched cider, then down at her pumpkin. She couldn't possibly carry both, and certainly couldn't waste good cider, so much as she wanted to accompany Lena, she had to relent. "Okay. See you soon."

Maybe she should have just asked what Lena liked in the first place. Or maybe it took Lena time to discover what she might like doing or partaking in. Apple cider and small pumpkins and donuts were all such simple parts of the cider mill experience, in Webby's opinion. But perhaps simple suited Lena. She wasn't exactly the grand adventuring type, if Webby really thought about it. More of the inner city party crashing type. So perhaps their styles were different, and they got enjoyment out of different things. They'd still had a fun day together, right?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of her friend, with a bag of what appeared to be half a dozen donuts, plus a couple of caramel apples.

"Looks like we can wash these down with that cider," she indicated the apples protruding from the bag with a nod. She promptly sat down next to Webby, passing one to her and beginning to work at her own. Caramel apples always looked delicious, and were delicious, but the actual eating of them was a challenge all its own.

The snacks occupied the two of them for some time, leaving them more or less alone with their thoughts about the cider mill, and each other. Webby finally sipped the last of her cider and suggested they call Launchpad for a pick up, since they'd done everything and it was getting late. Lena idly munched on donuts as they headed for the exit.

They stood at the edge of the dirt road, a fence behind them and a ditch beside them, waiting for Launchpad. Webby set their pumpkins down, because her arms were tired, and because this place was a fair bit outside of Duckburg, so he might be awhile. That gave the two of them time to talk, and for Lena to ask a question that had been in the back of her mind all afternoon.

"You were quiet on the way here. Everything okay, Webs?"

Webby had sort of hoped that Lena hadn't noticed, even though the silence had been, ironically, blaringly obvious. But now came the moment of truth when she could divulge what had really been on her mind, or come up with a clever lie that Lena would inevitably see through anyway.

"Is this a date?"

The initial answer was the crisp crunch of a cider donut as Lena took a bite right at the same moment, then what seemed like a thoughtful pause, followed by a shrug and another bite.

"Do you want it to be a date?"

Gods, she was so calm and casual, still unbothered by anything in the world. But this shouldn't have been casual, this should have been serious. Webby was seriously asking, and here all Lena could offer in return was some sort of an "I don't care either way" attitude. And maybe she didn't care, maybe she didn't feel the need for their relationship to be serious. But it stung Webby, just a little, that Lena didn't care one way or another, because she cared a whole awful lot, not just about the labeling of the thing, but about Lena in general.

But it did pose an interesting question. Did she want this to be a date? Or did the concept exist mostly because she thought it ought to, because the boys had put it into her head, or because she'd known Lena long enough that maybe it's what she thought they should be doing? Had she explored her feelings enough to know, without any doubt, that she wanted this to be a date?

The answer was that yes, she had. She'd thought up so many date possibilities she'd lost count. Considered so many times spouting, "I love you", because the phrase so often popped into her head any time she so much as looked at Lena. Countless nights she'd laid awake and wished that she could forever wake up near her best friend, even when they got older. Yes, she did want this, she'd wanted it so long she couldn't remember a time when she didn't, and now that she had the opportunity, she hesitated. Of all the possible reactions, hesitation. An emphatic "YES!" caught in her throat, maybe because Lena didn't seem all too keen on the prospect.

"Donut for your thoughts?" Lena waved one of the fried rings in front of Webby's face. She'd spaced out.

"I-" I want this to be a date. I wanted to ask you earlier but I chickened out. Have we been on dates before? I remember you holding my hand during the fireworks when we went to the fair last summer, was that a date? Do you want to date me? Would you ever date me? Have you ever dated anyone before? Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods...

"I like girls!" was all Webby managed to spout.

Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she sat down right there on the edge of the road, pulling her legs up to her chest and scooping her arms around them, burying her face in her knees.

Lena placed a half eaten donut back in the bag, and settled down next to Webby, though not close enough to touch. She wasn't great at this whole sympathy thing, after spending so long being hard and cold and defensive, but she was learning to open up and become something akin to warmer towards others.

"That's okay, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with that, Webby. Fuddy duddy tea time better not be teaching you there is. Because if so, she and I are going to have a problem because I like girls too-"

"I like you," Webby lifted her head and placed her chin between her knees.

"I know."

"It's not a problem with granny or Uncle Scrooge or anyone else. It's-"

"-me."

"It's fine if you don't-" Webby swallowed, pushing down the lump in her throat that threatened to swell up and overcome her with emotion, "-feel the same way. I just, need to know what this is. What we are. If there's hope for us. If I should even keep trying at all. Not knowing is torture."

"Aw, geez, Webs," Lena rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, "I guess I've just been scared about taking the next step. Everything is still so new and fresh for me. I know Magica's gone, but a part of me is still holding on to the fears I held for years. I don't want to put you through the emotional roller coaster that's dominating my life right now. I just want to be a better person when I date you, and I'm not there yet. You're so good and I'm still working on not being so bad. I'm not good enough for you yet."

Webby stared at her friend, long and hard, like she was thinking about something. Then, "Have I ever told you you're not good enough?"

"No, but-"

"Maybe Magica did. Maybe that's why you feel that way. But I don't care about the weight of your bad deeds compared to your good. I don't care what anyone says about you, or about us. I like you just how you are. And I know that things haven't been easy for you, and they're still not perfect. But if you let me, I want to help you work through all the bad things. I don't want to stand by and watch you go it alone. I'm here for you. I always have been. That's true, whether or not we date or become girlfriends or any of that. I'm still your friend. Please let me in."

Lena took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, breathing in the scents of the farm as dusk fell. She took one hand and wriggled it under one of Webby's, which was still tightly clasped around her knee. But she took the offering, intertwining her fingers with Lena's, their hands held aloft in the space between them.

"I want this to be a date," Lena started. "There were a lot of other times I wanted to be dates, too. I'm just so new at this, not just the dating or relationships thing, but freedom. It's weird not being told what to do all the time. Not having to watch my back. Having someone to watch my back, on the occasion I do need it. Everything's happening so fast. My life used to consist of waiting for one precise moment in time, and now that moment is past and I don't exactly know where to go from here."

"Let the lady lead," Webby gave her hand a light squeeze.

"What?"

"Launchpad is here!"

The ride back was quiet, but happily so, both girls absorbed in their thoughts about the future ahead. They held hands all the way home, until Launchpad dropped them off at the front door while he went to park the limo. Webby carried their pumpkins to the porch and set them down, but refrained from opening the door, instead staring down at her feet while she shuffled them awkwardly.

"You know, sometimes two lovers are supposed to share a kiss on the porch, just out of sight of their parents, before one of them rushes off into the night."

"Are they?" Lena cocked a playful eyebrow, like she'd never heard of such a thing, even though Webby had subjected her to dozens of sappy movies and she knew full well what she was talking about.

"Yes," Webby whispered, and gulped, waiting with bated breath. For once in her life she wanted to be the damsel, to be swept off her feet by a dark and mysterious stranger, but only because she knew who that dark and mysterious stranger was. And she was far from actually being a stranger.

So Lena made a move, because Webby seemed to want her to, and for the first time it actually felt good to make a decision and go through with it, instead of being a follower. She leaned down and pressed their beaks together, light and gentle at first, testing the waters, until Webby grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in even closer, like she couldn't get enough. Clumsy hands grasped at the back of Webby's shirt, because Lena wasn't sure where else they should go, and also, she felt that if something didn't tether her to the earth, she might float away and never come back down.

It ended, too soon for both of them, but this was new and they were young and knew better than to rush this. It was evident that this moment, or something similar to it, had been on their minds for awhile, but the wait had been worth it. Now, they had every day for the rest of their lives to make up for lost time.

"Well, see you around," Lena stepped down off the porch and threw a wink over her shoulder.

"Lena, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"You live here!"

"Right, I was just going to go around back so we could preserve the moment."

Webby giggled at the notion, but appreciated the sentiment. "Come inside, silly."

"Wow, only our first date and I'm already being invited into the lady's home," Lena pretended to be bashful as she put on a faux accent, befitting someone far more prim and proper than she would ever be. "My goodness, what would her grandmother think? Sneaking in a rebellious ruffian after dark. She's liable to get corrupted if she keeps this up!"

"Stop it, get over here!" Webby continued to laugh. It was nice to see Lena being playful, and more relaxed. She seemed to let her guard down more frequently, now that she wasn't under Magica's control, but it was still a rare and welcome sight.

Lena smiled, and even laughed at herself a little, as she joined her friend and entered the house. Although, maybe they weren't just friends anymore, she realized. Maybe they were more. Her chest clenched, old fears rising up, until she realized that maybe she didn't have to be afraid of being more. There was no more Magica. No more shadowy sorceress looming over her. No more being controlled. She had control now, and freedom, the freedom to make her own decisions. She'd been free to kiss Webby just now, and she was free to do it again, and again, and again, as long as Webby was okay with it.

A chill in the air ruffled her feathers just before she stepped inside. Lena might not have been a fortune-teller, but she could predict a lot of evenings that involved her and Webby, huddled close together by the fire, sharing a blanket. Cups of hot cocoa that were supposed to keep them warm, even though their own company did enough of that. Stealing kisses by firelight after everyone had gone to bed. Falling asleep in each other's arms, and dreaming of what their future might be like together.

Lena probably didn't know it, because she wasn't a mind reader, either, but Webby was thinking about the exact same thing, and smiling at such nice thoughts. Maybe it had all been fate, some kind of destiny, that lead to Webby sitting alone on the beach one day not so long ago. Maybe her sense of adventure, her thirst for the unknown, had led her to Lena that same day. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter now. They were together, and safe, and didn't really need anymore than that.

It may not have been a match anyone could have predicted, but they were happy. They made each other happy. Happy in ways neither of them could describe, happy in the simple things and happy in the complex things. They were a complex thing, weren't they? An eccentric, well-off, basically adopted member of the McDuck family, combined with the product of a decades old feud and probably a curse or two. Their meeting, and their relationship, was completely unpredictable. It suited them, and how they preferred life to be. Unpredictable.

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AN AFFAIR WITH A SPARE by Shana Galen: Excerpt & Giveaway

AVAILABLE JULY 3RD 2018 / SOURCEBOOKS CASABLANCA

He’s turned seduction into an art form… Rafe Beaumont, fifth son of an earl, uses his irresistible charm with the ladies to glean dangerous war secrets. Now he’s putting those skills to the ultimate test: capturing an elusive assassin by seducing his daughter. The problem? She’s entirely immune to Rafe’s flattery.

  Never before has Collette Fortier met a man as attractive as Rafe. But her father’s life is at stake, and succumbing to Rafe would be disastrous. But when Rafe turns the tables on her, offering support and friendship instead of a fleeting affair, Collette finds herself tempted in ways she never could have imagined…

  Buy Online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

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  Excerpt

In this excerpt from An Affair With a Spare, former soldier and charmer Rafe Beaumont and spy Collette Fortier remove their figurative masks.

  “Will you bring me here again?” she asked.

“Not if you object. I don’t enjoy standing about in cold gardens in the middle of the night, but it won’t be the worst hardship I’ve had to endure.”

She glanced about his flat, her eyes lingering on paintings and a few of the pieces he’d collected—vases, lamps, and other accoutrement. “It’s dangerous coming here,” she said.

“Because you think I will try to take you to bed?”

“Because I think you won’t.”

Rafe stared at her. Women did this sometimes. As well as he understood them, at times, they still managed to say something that flummoxed him. “I’m at sea here,” he finally admitted. “We are friends, nothing more.”

“Correct.”

“And when I proposed something more, you were not interested.”

“I was interested. I simply did not think becoming your lover a good idea.”

“And now it is?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He gave her a long look. “My ship is sinking.”

“That’s why you’re dangerous. Because you make me want what I cannot have.”

“Oh, you can have me,” he said, rather too quickly. “What I mean is—”

She laughed. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

Where the devil had she acquired that notion? She was the only woman he did want. “How could I not want you? That has never changed. If you want to change your position on the matter…”

“No. I meant only to say you tempt me. Coming here tempts me.”

“Good. I like to know I’m not the only one tempted.”

She rose, and he did the same. She linked her fingers, looking nervously about.

“What would we do were we hedgehogs, Miss Fortier?”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t—”

“Would you approach me? Would I approach you?”

“The, uh, boar pursues the sow, attempting to mount her.”

“I see. And what does the sow do?”

“She will persistently reject his advances. A high percentage of observed hedgehog courtships do not result in cop-cop—”

“Copulation?”

She nodded.

“I do wonder what tempts a hedgehog.” Before she could answer, he moved closer and placed a finger lightly over her lips. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“I wonder what tempts you,” she said shyly. “Do I tempt you now?”

Washed in the golden firelight, she was lovelier than words. And Rafe knew a lot of words to describe women. With her glossy hair piled on her head and her cheeks tinged pink by the wine and the firelight, she looked young but regal. He dared not allow his gaze to dip lower than her chin. “Immeasurably,” he murmured.

She stepped closer, and he took her hand. It felt warm and soft in his, and he lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Then, turning it over, he placed a lingering kiss on her palm. Her dark eyes turned even darker when his mouth skated up her flesh to brush against the skin at the inside of her wrist. She must have dabbed scent here because, above the clean smell of her skin, he also detected the fragrance of juniper.

His mouth explored her sensitive flesh until he found her pulse, which fluttered rapidly. She might have pulled her hand away at any time. He held it with the lightest touch, but when he slid his lips higher to the tender skin at the inside of her elbow, she trembled. Rafe’s gaze never left hers when he flicked his tongue out and tasted her flesh.

She inhaled sharply. “You are very good at this, aren’t you?” she whispered.

“If my imaginings count, I’ve had extensive experience touching you.”

“Did you ever imagine kissing my lips?”

He grinned. “Once. Or twice.”

Her free hand wrapped around his neck, sliding into his hair. He straightened and she pulled him close.

When he released her hand to wrap his arms around her, she twined her arms about his neck and looked up at him. Rafe had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly. And he’d never feared doing so before. The last time he’d tried to kiss her, she had pushed him away. What if he kissed her now and frightened her? What if the kiss ruined the friendship, and she wouldn’t see him any longer? Draven would kill him, but even worse, Rafe would lose Collette.

“Kiss me,” she said when he hesitated.

“Are you certain this is a good idea? I don’t generally kiss my friends.”

“Surely you can make an exception for me.”

“Surely.” He bent closer, then pulled back again. “But should I? This might change everything, and I do value our friendship.”

“As do I.” She pressed closer to him, and the air caught in his lungs when her breasts pushed against his chest.

“Then we stay friends,” he said, voice choked.

“Friends who have shared a kiss.”

“Yes.” He brushed his lips over hers, then jerked back again. “That’s actually a new category of friendship for me. Should we discuss its parameters before we go on?”

She sighed, sounding suspiciously frustrated. “No. Just kiss me, Rafe.” But she didn’t wait for him to comply. Instead, she rose on tiptoe and took his mouth with hers. Her lips were soft and gentle but insistent. He couldn’t have refrained from kissing her back if he’d wanted. Kissing her was as necessary in that moment as breathing. And when her mouth became more insistent, he met her demands, kissing her deeper, holding her tighter, teasing her with his mouth until he felt her tremble. He trembled as well. He’d never reacted this way to kissing a woman before. He’d always enjoyed kissing women—some more than others—but he’d never

been so moved, never felt as though he needed a woman like he needed Collette.

“I think this is enough for now,” he said, pulling back.

She blinked up at him, her brown eyes almost black. “Really?”

He ran his thumb across the satin of her cheek, marveling at the silky flesh. “I think it’s for the best.”

“And I thought it best if we continue.”

That was a rather appealing idea as well. Who the devil cared about restraint and all the rest of that rot? She was in his arms and he wanted her and she wanted him…and if he took her, he might just ruin everything. Because he was not who she thought he was.

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About Shana Galen

Shana Galen is the bestselling author of fast-paced adventurous Regency historicals, including the RT Reviewers' Choice The Making of a Gentleman. Booklist says, "Galen expertly entwines espionage-flavored intrigue with sizzling passion," and RT Bookreviews calls her "a grand mistress of the action/adventure subgenre." She taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston's inner city. Now she writes full time. She's happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making. Shana loves to hear from readers, so send her an email or see what she's up to daily on Facebook and Twitter.

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AN AFFAIR WITH A SPARE by Shana Galen: Excerpt & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

Nearly two decades after Blizzard released its sci-fi real-time strategy game StarCraft, the game is still being played at a professional level.

Why? What is it about this game that gives it such enduring appeal?

That's basically what Blizzard senior producer Pete Stilwell has spent countless hours trying to understand as part of his work leading development of StarCraft Remastered, the revamped 4K version of StarCraft that's coming out this summer.

As part of a larger conversation about the state of RTS game design and where the industry is headed, Stilwell recently sat down with Gamasutra to chat about what he's learned while rooting around in the guts of one of the most popular RTS games ever made.

We got into a lot of nuts-and-bolts talk about what makes a competitive game timeless, where the RTS market is at these days, and how developers can walk the tricky path of trying to make a strategy game that's both accessible and deeply complex. 

Hey Pete! Tell me a bit about your time with the company and your work on StarCraft Remastered.

Stilwell: Sure! I guess I'll start with my time at the company. I've been with Blizzard about five years now. Most of that time was spent with internal tools working to help game teams streamline their process and get games out faster.

I think that's a lot of where that experience came in dredging up and resurrecting our classics. Dusting them off and getting new tool chains built up, things of that nature. That's kind of been my time at Blizzard until about 18 months ago when I got tapped to help with this classic game. 

I'd love to know what you've learned about the design of StarCraft as you've been revivifying it for modern machines. What is it, you think, that makes it so enduring that it should be remastered and revitalized?   It's the balance. That's the key note that you take away from any conversation you have, whether it be a pro, a passionate fan, even the initial developers.

  "It's important to have that, 'I give a piece in order to take another piece away.' That, to me, is the fundamentals of an RTS."

That was what we spent our pre-production doing. We didn't have to find the fun or anything like that -- we had to go find what made the game fun and successful. So we talked with the initial devs, we spent months and months in Korea talking with folks there that have really been the community around this game for the past ten years, especially since most of the community moved on to StarCraft 2 when it was released.

So it's the fact that -- And [Blizzard cofounder Mike] Morhaime touched on this recently, they kind of came up with a foil for every unit, right? If this enemy is strong this way, it needs something that can counteract it so that a smart player will see it emerge on the battlefield and realize they have a counter to it.

That's like learning chess or similar games, where there are set moves and set strategies and it's interesting when you can counter plays really well, because that's the high-level gameplay.

But also, even as you're seeing with Brood War right now, guys like Flash are emerging onto the scene and saying, "You know what? We haven't explored everything yet. There are some other ways to play this game and play it more aggressively than Terrans typically have, but rely on strong macro to deal with some losses in a way that didn't used to be the case."

I think that speaks really well to that balance and to what makes it interesting, and why the remaster makes so much sense. That there's a generation that grew up playing. I'm one of the guys who played this game and was like, "Someday, I want to grow up and work at a Blizzard and work on games like this."

So to come here and actually unlock that reality is amazing. But to me that's what we're doing for another generation of players. You've already got this game that was so lovingly crafted and turned out to be so well balanced. Why not unlock it for a new generation by making it more approachable and giving it all the features that our modern games get? Like matchmaking and being inside of the Blizzard launcher so you can have your friend network and things like that.

To me, the community is as big of a part of these games as anything, because you need someone to tell you about strategy. You need to realize why you just got your ass handed to you by this guy that you got matched against.

That's what makes this interesting, I think, is that you can speak to it. It's not just that you missed the headshot in a first-person shooter or something like that where you need to work on your mechanics, your muscle memory. That's understandable. RTSes have a depth, I think, outside of the game that can be really engaging. That's another one of those things that, in our pre-pro[duction] period, that came up routinely.

We used to talk about it. We would talk to people in Korea who still go to the IGR [Internet Game Room] for an hour after work to just chat with their buddies that they've had for 20 years now. Like how insane is that? They'll just go and pay a dollar to get into that chat channel that their clan has and just BS about life and the game and it's like a World of Warcraft guild or something like that. The thing that really binds it is that sense of community, and that you have now a game that's lasted 20 years that has a shared experience and dialogue.

Like we grew up playing baseball, hockey, whatever, and you can usually find another kid who played that sport and have a shared dialogue about that common experience. And we're seeing that with StarCraft now. Where we remember aspects of the game, the exploits, the things that we can talk about and have a little laugh and it doesn't matter that you and I are only just meeting now, there's a bond there. We really hope, with the remaster, to unlock that for another generation. Keep it vital.

It's been strong for 20 years, there's no reason it shouldn't be strong for another 20.    As you were going back talking to folks who worked on the original and getting ready to put this together, what stories of the original development of StarCraft stood out to you?   I think it was the "oh, shit" moment when they went to E3 and realized that they had a top-down game -- and perspective was a thing now. And their game was not going to be able to compete with Age of Empires.

So it was like a paradigm shift, and they had to adapt in short order. They did it in like less than six months or something like that to get the game ready and make the release date. 

Because you have to understand how much aesthetics are part of the appeal of games, especially back then. I used to do that thing of turning the box over and really looking at the game to see if I wanted to buy it. Because we all knew the game art on the front was lying to us, making false promises.

Original StarCraft

So I think seeing [the StarCaft dev team] being reactive like that was a great lesson for us to apply even now as we are making some fundamental changes to the graphics engine and the input system. That we have to be equally reactive. And that's been the great thing about the PTR [Public Test Realm] with the community, is getting the game out there...and taking a few licks, admittedly.

StarCraft Remastered

But the community is so engaged, they know this game so well. Even if my APM is never going to be over 300 like a lot of these pro players, they're there and engaged and can articulate what we need to do to tweak it to remaster exactly what matters.

Thinking back to the original StarCraft, it feels like RTS games were legion in the '90s, then kind of faded away as everyone congregated around a few genre leaders. Does it seem like RTS is having a bit of a resurgence, here in 2017?

RTS is like my main genre, and I agree with you. And maybe to build on the dialogue of this, I think there's two things: I think like everything else, there's a fashionability of games. We go through cycles, just like music and fashion. And I think FPS had such a dominant run for a while.

But now, I think people are revisiting and reaffirming a lot of classic gameplay elements; like look at the Telltale games that are popular right now. Those types of point-and-click adventures and decision trees that were the foundation of games 30 years ago, are now coming back in a cool way, and getting kind of re-imagined.

In a lot of ways MOBAs are a reimagining of an RTS, I think, but obviously building out of an actual RTS engine owes to that.

  "We grew up playing baseball, hockey, whatever, and you can usually find another kid who played that sport and have a shared dialogue about that common experience. And we're seeing that with StarCraft now."

But the biggest lesson I've taken out of this is that there are -- like you were just touching on, kind of like enduring communities around certain games and genres where, they never left it. And to your point, if we were players that enjoyed the campaign and story moreso and got engaged there, we wanted the next story -- like you wanted Warcraft 4, you wanted StarCraft 2 to be out really quickly and then 3, 4, 5, 6.

And just to consume the game that way and kind of watch it evolve, whereas, with the level of play and time you've got to put into be really great at multiplayer StarCraft, you don't necessarily need a new one. Because then you've got to start over, there's going to be differences.

It's one of the things we see with SC and SC2, that they are different games. I don't like when people make the comparison that StarCraft got changed. They're different games. If there had been a second expansion beyond Brood War, then it would have been an evolution of StarCraft, but no, the teams sat down and made a new game that they thought would be the new exciting way to play an RTS. And you have dedicated communities around both.

Even as we look at our other games like Diablo 2 and Diablo 3, you get exactly the same thing, of people who swear it's the best game and they'll be damned if the other one tries to take the same credit. And they're all Blizzard fans, right? But whether it's music or cars, we kind of fall in love with a certain brand and enjoy that for what it is. Especially when it has a hold on your youth and that nostalgia and all those things. There's a reason that it then resonates with you for the rest of your life.

That, to me, is where we can leverage the fact that there's a bunch of dads that grew up playing this game that they love and their kid's starting to get old enough to play a game.

And if StarCraft Remastered looks beautiful enough, and maybe that kid then has a button that finds you a person to play against because everybody expects that in modern games, it will unlock the experiences and subtlety and nuance of being really great at StarCraft for a new generation.

Because it does have the muscle memory of micro, but there's also the deep understanding of strategy; it engages you on so many levels. StarCraft, I think, is really well-rounded in that respect and that's why, especially in Korea, you'll hear people say like, "That's the [game] that separates really good players from bad," because it pushes you on all levels.    I wonder, do you think there's room in the industry for more than a handful of RTS games? Is there room for something outside of StarCraft, and if so, what do you think that is?   Yeah, I think so. I'm excited to play Dawn of War 3. And even in the Blizzard family, Warcraft 3 is significantly different from StarCraft, StarCraft 2. So just right there within one company those are three pretty different experiences. Which, War 3 and Dawn of War have that in common where there's that hero class built into it and it kind of blurs the lines between the MOBA and the RTS. I believe in the evolution of game mechanics; that's what makes new experiences engaging, is having to learn those things and figure it out.

So I think that's where there is still room for growth and for other companies to explore the space. I think in any genre when you see people trying to carbon copy, it usually doesn't work out, right? There has to be some sort of originality, some sort of new mechanic or something like that that draws people in, beyond a great story, great aesthetic, and IP. In my opinion that's where someone could see something new and then not just be Blizzard or Relic or whoever in the industry. 

Is there much left to be mined, in terms of RTS design?

I hope there's still a lot there to be mined! My current task at hand is to make StarCraft accessible again and I think we've made the right choices for that to hopefully bring a bigger, broader appeal to it to help the state of RTSes in the industry and I hope at some point to unlock that as a future for me at Blizzard, is to help the evolution of RTS. 

Do you think there's any truth to the notion that MOBAs and mobile strategy games have taken up a lot of the audience, and in a sense expanded both the bounds and the reach of real-time strategy games?    Yeah, 100 percent. I don't disagree with anything you said. I think that's what also makes it exciting to have platforms that have an editor in them that let people unlock new games like that. China right now with Warcraft 3 has a stupendously vibrant modding community and mapmaking community. The stuff they're turning out over there is amazing and who knows? Any day now could be that next paradigm shift and what people love because somebody has created a new game with the world edit from War 3.

That to me is part of the --  What you would call an RTS. The machinations of our youth in the sandbox that are the editors.

We're constantly reminded by the best and the brightest from the game industry to return to your roots. Go play board games. Go play tabletop games. Do those things that have the fundamentals really well set and I think in a lot of ways, that's what your Brood War is. It has fundamentals that everybody can point at and understand and articulate about good game design and hopefully that means having them around and keeping them vital is a good way to challenge the next generation of really great game developers. 

In your own work on StarCraft Remastered, what have you seen the need to add? What features have you felt were most lacking in that game and how did you go about addressing those issues for a modern audience?   We jokingly called this game "Make It an Option Edition" at a certain point because there were so many of those things. And that was also where we kind of had to go back to our identity when we started making the game of what are we really setting out to do. It was to keep this thing a timeless classic, sort of.

[embedded content]

So we don't want to change gameplay. That's an option that could easily be done. We could make your control groups bigger. We could do a bunch of other things that would be a more modern mechanic and better quality of life, but it would shatter those things that I touched on earlier about the fact that you can only have these small control groups means you have to make some tough decisions about who you put together and who you micro, versus who just shows up to the battle because of the rally point and then you hope to get them involved before the end of it.

But to address your question of what did we want to add? Matchmaking was a huge one -- and an associated ladder. Everybody talks about how good they are. They can point at win-loss records but it's very easy to just manipulate that with your buddies or understand this is a channel I can go into and find matches that I'm going to win in.

So having a true, "Who's the best in the room?" and being able to use some algorithms and some text to prove it I think is going to be super exciting. Then extending the social experience -- Again the chat channels were such a big part. Getting to bring in some of our other features for whispering and your friends and all those types of things I think are a huge value add to the game.    And the last one and then I'll shut up, I know I talk too much.    Not at all!

The cloud is huge for us. So especially in Korea with folks playing in the game rooms. If you can get up from your computer and leave and come back and tomorrow you can jump back into the game with a save location in the campaign, that's huge.

Revamped stat and replay systems in StarCraft Remastered

Also because they've never had the campaign; it's never been localized before. The people we talk to are incredibly excited to finally get to unlock the campaign and that it won't matter where they play it from. All of your-   So in Korea, they never localized all the text and audio of the campaign?   The entire game is in English in Korea. That's another reason why we had to make it the "Options" edition, because they still -- most people want to still hear the confirmations in English, even if all the dialogue gets changed to Korean, because they're just so used to hearing the marines giving their confirmation orders and things like that. 

What if a player is colorblind, or has a hard time with a mouse and keyboard. Have you given any thought to making the game more accessible?   We do have two guys on the team that are colorblind, so that one has certainly come up. We have not dealt with eye tracking or something like that to help somebody control the game that has a physical disability to play. I believe somebody out there made an addon that might address that.

But yes, to me, that type of accessibility is different than watering down gameplay to make it for a more casual audience. I don't believe RTS will ever appeal to a non-hardcore audience. And I think that's okay. League has a massive following of the most hardcore people ever and that is still, I think, what the game industry's bread and butter is: hardcore players. The mobile market and online stuff may be a little bit more appealing to people that are casual because it's more accessible. But if you're going to have a gaming rig and the right paraphernalia to play a game properly, you're hardcore and we should be challenging you with depth of play that requires you to put the hours in. Again, when push comes to shove you can say, "I'm undeniably better than you at this because of these variables that add up to being good at it."   Well, in all the time you've spent going back over this game and putting it together again, what have you learned about the art of designing an RTS game that maybe other developers could benefit from learning from?    Perfect is the enemy.

It's a really simple concept. Brood War isn't perfect, it's far from it. It has plenty of flaws, it's the fact that it's a shit-ton of fun on top of being well-balanced, right? The perception of being perfectly balanced is a perception. Who knows? With guys like Flash out there, there still could be a time where somebody finds how to break the game and then we would have to make a balance change, right? In a hypothetical.

But that to me is what makes it fun. Makes it good to see a unit and know what the foil is and bring that out and decimate it. And if the other guy doesn't have his own counter in his back pocket, you're going to win the game because you've got that. It's important to have that, "I give a piece in order to take another piece away." That, to me, is the fundamentals of an RTS because you have a limited amount of resources and you've got to make those tough decisions on the fly, and the outcome of that is what makes it good or not.

If you can't learn from those mistakes and get better at it, then your game isn't good. 

Mr.G's Round Hill Lodge 1974

11:30pm: Sunday, 20 January 1974

How the reminders of passing years continue to haunt those of us still possessing a beating heart and a  functioning memory.

43 years ago today, in the dead of a Winter night, what truly was “an era”, a time of joy for a great many, disappeared in a golden-red glow against a deep indigo-grey sky. Today, I don't suppose there really would have been any “hope” for the old place, considering its age at the time already. And yes, I do suppose that it rather did call out for some repairs and the likes. But one thing that sticks in my own aging mind is the report that, as it burned, back up there on the hill, the “kind” folks of Washingtonville, NY gathered together, in spite of the dark and cold, massed  together at the dirt-road entrance to the grounds, and blocked the fire responders from getting there in time to save even a bit of the old place. “Kind”... The people of a quiet, bucolic, gentle little Orange county NY, rural village.

To them, it made no difference whether or not anybody was in the building. To them, it wasn't important that somebody's financial investment, never mind, emotional investment, was being destroyed. To the kind and gentle, happy little folk of Washingtonville, the moments of happiness the place provided for others was insignificant. Never mind the refuge, sanctuary and safety it, the place, and its owner gave to so very many who truly needed such a place, back then. There was food in the kitchen, drinks at the bar, music on the juke box and acres of “secrets”, of romance, hardships, some drama, and a lot of true, real and honest “love”.

The food was turned to ash, the drinks, to empty, broken, charred glass. And as the glowing orange sparks danced into the darkness of the night, the juke box and its music went silent, lights went out, the 45's melted and cremated. The grand old front porch crumbled and lay in a bed of glowing embers and cinders. And souls of the living, rose into the Heavens, there, and around the Earth.

We became “Mr. G's Roundhill Lodge in exile”... in an eternal diaspora.

Out-side the village, off the double-lane paved highway, at the end of an old dirt road that wound its way through the wood-land, over a little brook, away from the world, it stood in rustic, old elegance and glory. Settled on a little hill-top, surrounded by the local old and worn mountains, divinely bucolic by day and vibrant with life and living by night, Mr. G's welcomed us all, all of us who came to it as pilgrims travel long and far to a remote place on Earth, to purge torn and weary souls, and bask in a divinity of kindred spirits, to commune with one-another and with one's self. We were “welcome” and “welcomed” there, for who we honestly were and who we dreamed we could or might be.

As it lived, and we lived, the main house, the stone house, the bungalows, the ever-cold, spring-fed swimming pool at the end of the wood-land path, the buildings and the very earth it all rested upon pulsed with solid heart-beats, embraced by anticipation, joys and even sorrows of Life itself. When the music from with-in the main house went still, the rhythms, beats, melodies and lyrics continued, in the breezes that blew across the tall grasses and through the old trees. Songs that made the spirit dance and those that comforted the weary souls. Comfort, and even in the heaviest of times, the consolation of others, all together with one simple, basic purpose: a unity that spanned the entire universe, to support one another, when-ever and how-ever was necessary and possible. In sickness, good health, rejoicing and mourning, in times of concurrence and times of disagreement, the commonality of one and all, drinking, dancing, sharing meals and time created more of a “family” amongst familiar faces and strangers than many, if not most, had, even in their own houses and homes. It was a place of shelter, of togetherness. It was a place of protection, from the elements of living, from the elements of existence, from the elements of Life. It was a place of nourishment of body, mind and soul, and it was a place of rejuvenation, often at the end of a week of anxiety, uncertainty, and shrouds of oppression and pretense. There was an un-seen and un-seeable energy in and of the place that penetrated deep into the core of being that lent assurance and the ability, the right, to “be”, to breathe free and freely. If ever a place could be truly called “Home”... this was it.

In the buildings and all around the grounds, we, who gathered, were allowed to shed inhibitions, to open hearts and minds. We were as diverse as the global population itself, a microcosm of all of Creation. We were proud and humble, rich and poor, troubled and trouble-free. We were tall, short, Black, White, men, women, local and from a-far. We came from farms, cities large and small, towns, villages and solitary houses out in the most rural of landscapes. We were different, similar and same all at once. We fell into and out of like, lust and LOVE! And together we celebrated the joys and mourned the sorrows as we all healed... one-anther, each-other, together.

And.. we danced! And HOW we danced! With steps that had names and others that were more improv expressions of mind, body, soul, spirit! We... DANCED! Some danced in celebration, of something, anything, nothing and everything. Others danced with memories of people, places, events. There were those who danced in joy, and those who danced in sadness. Finger-popping, bangle jangling, singing, whistling, or simply caught up in the rapture of song. “1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8” “You better think... Think bout It” and remember that “Everybody Plays the Fool... sometimes”. So you just “Get On The Good Foot”, because “I'll Be Around”, “You're The First, The Last, My Everything”. We've all got a “Mighty Love”, a “One Of A Kind Love Affair”. And if you find that “Smiling Faces Sometimes... pretend to be your friend” and the world can have more than a fair share of “Back Stabbers”, and you ask yourself “Where Is The Love?” it's all really quite clear and simple: It's “Too Late To Turn Back Now”, because “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” I said  “If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right”. So “Let's Stay Together” because “I Wanna Be Were You Are”, we'll start a “Love Train” and “Until You Come Back To Me”... “I'm Still In Love With You”. That's the “Law Of The Land”.

Directly or indirectly, consciously and unconsciously, we believed, thought, hoped and probably prayed that G's would never end, would be there for us through all the years that lay ahead of us. For some, the years were many, and for some the years numbered shorter. But even facing realities, kind and harsh, some little place in our hearts held some crazy little belief that the music might change, the faces and names might change, the buildings and such might change... but they'd change... and always be where they were, on those nights when we arrived, on those mornings when we left and that they'd stay, right there, on Roundhill, waiting for us to return.

I'd moved away from the area during  the latter part of 1973, off to new adventures, and, as my dearest mother succinctly pointed out, “100,2 miles from door to door”. But on that Saturday, the 26th of January, 1974, I'd returned for a visit. The details of the travel are gone to the deep recesses of my aged and aging mind, but there is one memory that remains clear, and one wound that remains open and sore even today, 43 years later:

It had been a usual January sort of day, weather-wise, with normal Winter weather in the Hudson Valley, a bit on the grey and drizzly side. That night was cooler and rainy. (Yes, I DO remember.)

That evening I was looking very much forward to having dinner with my Mum, then relaxing for a bit and then... as was almost common-place and routine when I lived at home, heading out and onto the roads to Mr. G's for a Saturday night with friends. I hadn't been in quite the while and the matter, as usual, hadn't been discussed at all previously. So I went about the business of having a shower and changing my clothes. As I got back into the kitchen, almost ready to head out, and by this point it was well passed 9:00pm, my Mother, standing at the kitchen sink asked, “Where are you going?”

A bit taken by surprise by her enquiry, believing and taking for granted that she knew where I'd spent so many Saturday nights before and that tonight, she'd know where I was heading, I simply, respectfully replied, “To G's of course.”

“No you're not.” she said, calmly and not at all confrontationally. “And why not?” I asked. With-out a spoken word, she walked into the living-room and returned with the local news-paper which she placed onto the kitchen table, front page face up. I recall, so vividly, glancing at the page, seeing a black and white photo of firemen standing in front of a smouldering building which meant nothing to me at the moment. My Mother turned away and went back to her chores at the sink as I looked closer... at the caption under the photo, centre-page. It read: “BUILDING BURNS - A large structure at Mister G's, Round Hill Resort on Rt. 208, Washingtonville, was destroyed by fire Sunday night. Here firemen douse smouldering embers. Story Page 5A”

In the same state of non-belief that one might experience upon receiving news of the death of a loved one, I turned to page 5A as calmly as I possibly could. On page 5A was a brief account of some minor injuries of attending fire-men and the passing mention that the fire department in Washingtonville, along with those of several surrounding towns, took 12 hours to extinguish the blaze.

All through that week she'd known. But she didn't have it in her heart to tell me. She said she didn't know how to tell me. Even as we'd chatted through the day, she'd known, but couldn't find it in her heart to say. For so long, she'd known what that place had been to me, what it meant to me, and, in many ways, how it saved my life, even to the few weeks before I'd left home and moved so far away. She knew, she understood and she anticipated the crushing devastation that the news would inflict. Even as she placed the paper on the table, words failed. Mothers know. Mine knew me. To be quite honest, I don't, to this day, remember what the rest of that cold, wet night brought. But in the days that followed, telephone calls confirmed the article. Nobody, it seemed, knew exactly what had caused the fire. There were rumours of arguments between George, the owner, and a guest who set the blaze in retaliation. There were rumours of disgruntled hired staff having set the fire in a fit of maddened revenge. But the one story that never made the news, but had been confirmed by eye witnesses that night was that yes, indeed, as the fire consumed the main house, set back off the main road, away from the nearest village of Washingtonville, the residents, never pleased about the Lodge's presence, turned-out, on that cold, Winter, January night, at 11:30pm, and with their vehicles and persons, created a barricade across the only entrance to the dirt road that led up to the place, detaining for as long as they possibly could, the responding fire companies, essentially prohibiting them from promptly attending the fire.

The years have passed, as years do, all 43 of them. And as I type this tonight, only a day from the 43rd anniversary of the event, as has been all through each and every day, month and year prior, I can still close my eyes, and in the darkness behind shuttered lids, in my mind, my heart and my soul I can travel back to the gravel parking area, in front of the old plantation-like main house. I can hear the juke box singing from inside the main door in the centre of the large front porch that spanned the entire length of the house, and with the same joyful anticipation I had back then, I climb the old wooden stairs, walk into the main foyer, see the people wandering about, talking, laughing, some holding a drink. I can still smell the various colognes and hear, over the music coming from the rear room to the right, conversations and laughter. The room, with it's black floor, small, round tables round the perimeter, juke box against the wall to the right as I enter, and people, dancing... And HOW they dance! Many of them are now “gone”. I always wonder how many are still around, still alive. I always wonder how many of them still remember. And I do suppose, I always will. I like to think of those who've “left” as having gone back to G's, some-where up in the vast and endless night skies, to where the music still plays, the vignettes of Life continue, and they all still dance... and HOW they dance!

And as for George, the owner of Mr. G's Round Hill Lodge? Well, I can't be certain where he is these days, other than one place where I can guarantee he remains and will be, safe, sound, respected and much Loved... and that's in my heart, where he'll stay until I too am blessed with the ability to return, to travel up that dark old dirt road, through the woods, over the brook, past the spring-fed chilly pool, to the gravel lot at the foot of the old wooden stairs where again, I'll climb up to the front door, and with the same joyful anticipation of then, walk through and in to that room in the back... AND HOW I'LL DANCE AGAIN!

Meanwhile, from the old juke box against the wall on the right, the music plays in distant but vivid memory:

Good morning heart-ache, here we go again. Good morning heart-ache, you're the one who knew me when...

We don't have tomorrow... but we had yesterday.

https://judahakessler.wordpress.com/blog/mr-gs-round-hill-lodge-1974/

Mr.G's Round Hill Lodge 1974

11:30pm: Sunday, 20 January 1974

How the reminders of passing years continue to haunt those of us still possessing a beating heart and a  functioning memory.

43 years ago today, in the dead of a Winter night, what truly was “an era”, a time of joy for a great many, disappeared in a golden-red glow against a deep indigo-grey sky. Today, I don't suppose there really would have been any “hope” for the old place, considering its age at the time already. And yes, I do suppose that it rather did call out for some repairs and the likes. But one thing that sticks in my own aging mind is the report that, as it burned, back up there on the hill, the “kind” folks of Washingtonville, NY gathered together, in spite of the dark and cold, massed  together at the dirt-road entrance to the grounds, and blocked the fire responders from getting there in time to save even a bit of the old place. “Kind”... The people of a quiet, bucolic, gentle little Orange county NY, rural village.

To them, it made no difference whether or not anybody was in the building. To them, it wasn't important that somebody's financial investment, never mind, emotional investment, was being destroyed. To the kind and gentle, happy little folk of Washingtonville, the moments of happiness the place provided for others was insignificant. Never mind the refuge, sanctuary and safety it, the place, and its owner gave to so very many who truly needed such a place, back then. There was food in the kitchen, drinks at the bar, music on the juke box and acres of “secrets”, of romance, hardships, some drama, and a lot of true, real and honest “love”.

The food was turned to ash, the drinks, to empty, broken, charred glass. And as the glowing orange sparks danced into the darkness of the night, the juke box and its music went silent, lights went out, the 45's melted and cremated. The grand old front porch crumbled and lay in a bed of glowing embers and cinders. And souls of the living, rose into the Heavens, there, and around the Earth.

We became “Mr. G's Roundhill Lodge in exile”... in an eternal diaspora.

Out-side the village, off the double-lane paved highway, at the end of an old dirt road that wound its way through the wood-land, over a little brook, away from the world, it stood in rustic, old elegance and glory. Settled on a little hill-top, surrounded by the local old and worn mountains, divinely bucolic by day and vibrant with life and living by night, Mr. G's welcomed us all, all of us who came to it as pilgrims travel long and far to a remote place on Earth, to purge torn and weary souls, and bask in a divinity of kindred spirits, to commune with one-another and with one's self. We were “welcome” and “welcomed” there, for who we honestly were and who we dreamed we could or might be.

As it lived, and we lived, the main house, the stone house, the bungalows, the ever-cold, spring-fed swimming pool at the end of the wood-land path, the buildings and the very earth it all rested upon pulsed with solid heart-beats, embraced by anticipation, joys and even sorrows of Life itself. When the music from with-in the main house went still, the rhythms, beats, melodies and lyrics continued, in the breezes that blew across the tall grasses and through the old trees. Songs that made the spirit dance and those that comforted the weary souls. Comfort, and even in the heaviest of times, the consolation of others, all together with one simple, basic purpose: a unity that spanned the entire universe, to support one another, when-ever and how-ever was necessary and possible. In sickness, good health, rejoicing and mourning, in times of concurrence and times of disagreement, the commonality of one and all, drinking, dancing, sharing meals and time created more of a “family” amongst familiar faces and strangers than many, if not most, had, even in their own houses and homes. It was a place of shelter, of togetherness. It was a place of protection, from the elements of living, from the elements of existence, from the elements of Life. It was a place of nourishment of body, mind and soul, and it was a place of rejuvenation, often at the end of a week of anxiety, uncertainty, and shrouds of oppression and pretense. There was an un-seen and un-seeable energy in and of the place that penetrated deep into the core of being that lent assurance and the ability, the right, to “be”, to breathe free and freely. If ever a place could be truly called “Home”... this was it.

In the buildings and all around the grounds, we, who gathered, were allowed to shed inhibitions, to open hearts and minds. We were as diverse as the global population itself, a microcosm of all of Creation. We were proud and humble, rich and poor, troubled and trouble-free. We were tall, short, Black, White, men, women, local and from a-far. We came from farms, cities large and small, towns, villages and solitary houses out in the most rural of landscapes. We were different, similar and same all at once. We fell into and out of like, lust and LOVE! And together we celebrated the joys and mourned the sorrows as we all healed... one-anther, each-other, together.

And.. we danced! And HOW we danced! With steps that had names and others that were more improv expressions of mind, body, soul, spirit! We... DANCED! Some danced in celebration, of something, anything, nothing and everything. Others danced with memories of people, places, events. There were those who danced in joy, and those who danced in sadness. Finger-popping, bangle jangling, singing, whistling, or simply caught up in the rapture of song. “1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8” “You better think... Think bout It” and remember that “Everybody Plays the Fool... sometimes”. So you just “Get On The Good Foot”, because “I'll Be Around”, “You're The First, The Last, My Everything”. We've all got a “Mighty Love”, a “One Of A Kind Love Affair”. And if you find that “Smiling Faces Sometimes... pretend to be your friend” and the world can have more than a fair share of “Back Stabbers”, and you ask yourself “Where Is The Love?” it's all really quite clear and simple: It's “Too Late To Turn Back Now”, because “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” I said  “If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right”. So “Let's Stay Together” because “I Wanna Be Were You Are”, we'll start a “Love Train” and “Until You Come Back To Me”... “I'm Still In Love With You”. That's the “Law Of The Land”.

Directly or indirectly, consciously and unconsciously, we believed, thought, hoped and probably prayed that G's would never end, would be there for us through all the years that lay ahead of us. For some, the years were many, and for some the years numbered shorter. But even facing realities, kind and harsh, some little place in our hearts held some crazy little belief that the music might change, the faces and names might change, the buildings and such might change... but they'd change... and always be where they were, on those nights when we arrived, on those mornings when we left and that they'd stay, right there, on Roundhill, waiting for us to return.

I'd moved away from the area during  the latter part of 1973, off to new adventures, and, as my dearest mother succinctly pointed out, “100,2 miles from door to door”. But on that Saturday, the 26th of January, 1974, I'd returned for a visit. The details of the travel are gone to the deep recesses of my aged and aging mind, but there is one memory that remains clear, and one wound that remains open and sore even today, 43 years later:

It had been a usual January sort of day, weather-wise, with normal Winter weather in the Hudson Valley, a bit on the grey and drizzly side. That night was cooler and rainy. (Yes, I DO remember.)

That evening I was looking very much forward to having dinner with my Mum, then relaxing for a bit and then... as was almost common-place and routine when I lived at home, heading out and onto the roads to Mr. G's for a Saturday night with friends. I hadn't been in quite the while and the matter, as usual, hadn't been discussed at all previously. So I went about the business of having a shower and changing my clothes. As I got back into the kitchen, almost ready to head out, and by this point it was well passed 9:00pm, my Mother, standing at the kitchen sink asked, “Where are you going?”

A bit taken by surprise by her enquiry, believing and taking for granted that she knew where I'd spent so many Saturday nights before and that tonight, she'd know where I was heading, I simply, respectfully replied, “To G's of course.”

“No you're not.” she said, calmly and not at all confrontationally. “And why not?” I asked. With-out a spoken word, she walked into the living-room and returned with the local news-paper which she placed onto the kitchen table, front page face up. I recall, so vividly, glancing at the page, seeing a black and white photo of firemen standing in front of a smouldering building which meant nothing to me at the moment. My Mother turned away and went back to her chores at the sink as I looked closer... at the caption under the photo, centre-page. It read: “BUILDING BURNS - A large structure at Mister G's, Round Hill Resort on Rt. 208, Washingtonville, was destroyed by fire Sunday night. Here firemen douse smouldering embers. Story Page 5A”

In the same state of non-belief that one might experience upon receiving news of the death of a loved one, I turned to page 5A as calmly as I possibly could. On page 5A was a brief account of some minor injuries of attending fire-men and the passing mention that the fire department in Washingtonville, along with those of several surrounding towns, took 12 hours to extinguish the blaze.

All through that week she'd known. But she didn't have it in her heart to tell me. She said she didn't know how to tell me. Even as we'd chatted through the day, she'd known, but couldn't find it in her heart to say. For so long, she'd known what that place had been to me, what it meant to me, and, in many ways, how it saved my life, even to the few weeks before I'd left home and moved so far away. She knew, she understood and she anticipated the crushing devastation that the news would inflict. Even as she placed the paper on the table, words failed. Mothers know. Mine knew me. To be quite honest, I don't, to this day, remember what the rest of that cold, wet night brought. But in the days that followed, telephone calls confirmed the article. Nobody, it seemed, knew exactly what had caused the fire. There were rumours of arguments between George, the owner, and a guest who set the blaze in retaliation. There were rumours of disgruntled hired staff having set the fire in a fit of maddened revenge. But the one story that never made the news, but had been confirmed by eye witnesses that night was that yes, indeed, as the fire consumed the main house, set back off the main road, away from the nearest village of Washingtonville, the residents, never pleased about the Lodge's presence, turned-out, on that cold, Winter, January night, at 11:30pm, and with their vehicles and persons, created a barricade across the only entrance to the dirt road that led up to the place, detaining for as long as they possibly could, the responding fire companies, essentially prohibiting them from promptly attending the fire.

The years have passed, as years do, all 43 of them. And as I type this tonight, only a day from the 43rd anniversary of the event, as has been all through each and every day, month and year prior, I can still close my eyes, and in the darkness behind shuttered lids, in my mind, my heart and my soul I can travel back to the gravel parking area, in front of the old plantation-like main house. I can hear the juke box singing from inside the main door in the centre of the large front porch that spanned the entire length of the house, and with the same joyful anticipation I had back then, I climb the old wooden stairs, walk into the main foyer, see the people wandering about, talking, laughing, some holding a drink. I can still smell the various colognes and hear, over the music coming from the rear room to the right, conversations and laughter. The room, with it's black floor, small, round tables round the perimeter, juke box against the wall to the right as I enter, and people, dancing... And HOW they dance! Many of them are now “gone”. I always wonder how many are still around, still alive. I always wonder how many of them still remember. And I do suppose, I always will. I like to think of those who've “left” as having gone back to G's, some-where up in the vast and endless night skies, to where the music still plays, the vignettes of Life continue, and they all still dance... and HOW they dance!

And as for George, the owner of Mr. G's Round Hill Lodge? Well, I can't be certain where he is these days, other than one place where I can guarantee he remains and will be, safe, sound, respected and much Loved... and that's in my heart, where he'll stay until I too am blessed with the ability to return, to travel up that dark old dirt road, through the woods, over the brook, past the spring-fed chilly pool, to the gravel lot at the foot of the old wooden stairs where again, I'll climb up to the front door, and with the same joyful anticipation of then, walk through and in to that room in the back... AND HOW I'LL DANCE AGAIN!

Meanwhile, from the old juke box against the wall on the right, the music plays in distant but vivid memory:

Good morning heart-ache, here we go again. Good morning heart-ache, you're the one who knew me when...

We don't have tomorrow... but we had yesterday.

https://judahakessler.wordpress.com/blog/mr-gs-round-hill-lodge-1974/

Nearly two decades after Blizzard released its sci-fi real-time strategy game StarCraft, the game is still being played at a professional level.

Why? What is it about this game that gives it such enduring appeal?

That's basically what Blizzard senior producer Pete Stilwell has spent countless hours trying to understand as part of his work leading development of StarCraft Remastered, the revamped 4K version of StarCraft that's coming out this summer.

As part of a larger conversation about the state of RTS game design and where the industry is headed, Stilwell recently sat down with Gamasutra to chat about what he's learned while rooting around in the guts of one of the most popular RTS games ever made.

We got into a lot of nuts-and-bolts talk about what makes a competitive game timeless, where the RTS market is at these days, and how developers can walk the tricky path of trying to make a strategy game that's both accessible and deeply complex. 

Hey Pete! Tell me a bit about your time with the company and your work on StarCraft Remastered.

Stilwell: Sure! I guess I'll start with my time at the company. I've been with Blizzard about five years now. Most of that time was spent with internal tools working to help game teams streamline their process and get games out faster.

I think that's a lot of where that experience came in dredging up and resurrecting our classics. Dusting them off and getting new tool chains built up, things of that nature. That's kind of been my time at Blizzard until about 18 months ago when I got tapped to help with this classic game. 

I'd love to know what you've learned about the design of StarCraft as you've been revivifying it for modern machines. What is it, you think, that makes it so enduring that it should be remastered and revitalized?   It's the balance. That's the key note that you take away from any conversation you have, whether it be a pro, a passionate fan, even the initial developers.

  "It's important to have that, 'I give a piece in order to take another piece away.' That, to me, is the fundamentals of an RTS."

That was what we spent our pre-production doing. We didn't have to find the fun or anything like that -- we had to go find what made the game fun and successful. So we talked with the initial devs, we spent months and months in Korea talking with folks there that have really been the community around this game for the past ten years, especially since most of the community moved on to StarCraft 2 when it was released.

So it's the fact that -- And [Blizzard cofounder Mike] Morhaime touched on this recently, they kind of came up with a foil for every unit, right? If this enemy is strong this way, it needs something that can counteract it so that a smart player will see it emerge on the battlefield and realize they have a counter to it.

That's like learning chess or similar games, where there are set moves and set strategies and it's interesting when you can counter plays really well, because that's the high-level gameplay.

But also, even as you're seeing with Brood War right now, guys like Flash are emerging onto the scene and saying, "You know what? We haven't explored everything yet. There are some other ways to play this game and play it more aggressively than Terrans typically have, but rely on strong macro to deal with some losses in a way that didn't used to be the case."

I think that speaks really well to that balance and to what makes it interesting, and why the remaster makes so much sense. That there's a generation that grew up playing. I'm one of the guys who played this game and was like, "Someday, I want to grow up and work at a Blizzard and work on games like this."

So to come here and actually unlock that reality is amazing. But to me that's what we're doing for another generation of players. You've already got this game that was so lovingly crafted and turned out to be so well balanced. Why not unlock it for a new generation by making it more approachable and giving it all the features that our modern games get? Like matchmaking and being inside of the Blizzard launcher so you can have your friend network and things like that.

To me, the community is as big of a part of these games as anything, because you need someone to tell you about strategy. You need to realize why you just got your ass handed to you by this guy that you got matched against.

That's what makes this interesting, I think, is that you can speak to it. It's not just that you missed the headshot in a first-person shooter or something like that where you need to work on your mechanics, your muscle memory. That's understandable. RTSes have a depth, I think, outside of the game that can be really engaging. That's another one of those things that, in our pre-pro[duction] period, that came up routinely.

We used to talk about it. We would talk to people in Korea who still go to the IGR [Internet Game Room] for an hour after work to just chat with their buddies that they've had for 20 years now. Like how insane is that? They'll just go and pay a dollar to get into that chat channel that their clan has and just BS about life and the game and it's like a World of Warcraft guild or something like that. The thing that really binds it is that sense of community, and that you have now a game that's lasted 20 years that has a shared experience and dialogue.

Like we grew up playing baseball, hockey, whatever, and you can usually find another kid who played that sport and have a shared dialogue about that common experience. And we're seeing that with StarCraft now. Where we remember aspects of the game, the exploits, the things that we can talk about and have a little laugh and it doesn't matter that you and I are only just meeting now, there's a bond there. We really hope, with the remaster, to unlock that for another generation. Keep it vital.

It's been strong for 20 years, there's no reason it shouldn't be strong for another 20.    As you were going back talking to folks who worked on the original and getting ready to put this together, what stories of the original development of StarCraft stood out to you?   I think it was the "oh, shit" moment when they went to E3 and realized that they had a top-down game -- and perspective was a thing now. And their game was not going to be able to compete with Age of Empires.

So it was like a paradigm shift, and they had to adapt in short order. They did it in like less than six months or something like that to get the game ready and make the release date. 

Because you have to understand how much aesthetics are part of the appeal of games, especially back then. I used to do that thing of turning the box over and really looking at the game to see if I wanted to buy it. Because we all knew the game art on the front was lying to us, making false promises.

Original StarCraft

So I think seeing [the StarCaft dev team] being reactive like that was a great lesson for us to apply even now as we are making some fundamental changes to the graphics engine and the input system. That we have to be equally reactive. And that's been the great thing about the PTR [Public Test Realm] with the community, is getting the game out there...and taking a few licks, admittedly.

StarCraft Remastered

But the community is so engaged, they know this game so well. Even if my APM is never going to be over 300 like a lot of these pro players, they're there and engaged and can articulate what we need to do to tweak it to remaster exactly what matters.

Thinking back to the original StarCraft, it feels like RTS games were legion in the '90s, then kind of faded away as everyone congregated around a few genre leaders. Does it seem like RTS is having a bit of a resurgence, here in 2017?

RTS is like my main genre, and I agree with you. And maybe to build on the dialogue of this, I think there's two things: I think like everything else, there's a fashionability of games. We go through cycles, just like music and fashion. And I think FPS had such a dominant run for a while.

But now, I think people are revisiting and reaffirming a lot of classic gameplay elements; like look at the Telltale games that are popular right now. Those types of point-and-click adventures and decision trees that were the foundation of games 30 years ago, are now coming back in a cool way, and getting kind of re-imagined.

In a lot of ways MOBAs are a reimagining of an RTS, I think, but obviously building out of an actual RTS engine owes to that.

  "We grew up playing baseball, hockey, whatever, and you can usually find another kid who played that sport and have a shared dialogue about that common experience. And we're seeing that with StarCraft now."

But the biggest lesson I've taken out of this is that there are -- like you were just touching on, kind of like enduring communities around certain games and genres where, they never left it. And to your point, if we were players that enjoyed the campaign and story moreso and got engaged there, we wanted the next story -- like you wanted Warcraft 4, you wanted StarCraft 2 to be out really quickly and then 3, 4, 5, 6.

And just to consume the game that way and kind of watch it evolve, whereas, with the level of play and time you've got to put into be really great at multiplayer StarCraft, you don't necessarily need a new one. Because then you've got to start over, there's going to be differences.

It's one of the things we see with SC and SC2, that they are different games. I don't like when people make the comparison that StarCraft got changed. They're different games. If there had been a second expansion beyond Brood War, then it would have been an evolution of StarCraft, but no, the teams sat down and made a new game that they thought would be the new exciting way to play an RTS. And you have dedicated communities around both.

Even as we look at our other games like Diablo 2 and Diablo 3, you get exactly the same thing, of people who swear it's the best game and they'll be damned if the other one tries to take the same credit. And they're all Blizzard fans, right? But whether it's music or cars, we kind of fall in love with a certain brand and enjoy that for what it is. Especially when it has a hold on your youth and that nostalgia and all those things. There's a reason that it then resonates with you for the rest of your life.

That, to me, is where we can leverage the fact that there's a bunch of dads that grew up playing this game that they love and their kid's starting to get old enough to play a game.

And if StarCraft Remastered looks beautiful enough, and maybe that kid then has a button that finds you a person to play against because everybody expects that in modern games, it will unlock the experiences and subtlety and nuance of being really great at StarCraft for a new generation.

Because it does have the muscle memory of micro, but there's also the deep understanding of strategy; it engages you on so many levels. StarCraft, I think, is really well-rounded in that respect and that's why, especially in Korea, you'll hear people say like, "That's the [game] that separates really good players from bad," because it pushes you on all levels.    I wonder, do you think there's room in the industry for more than a handful of RTS games? Is there room for something outside of StarCraft, and if so, what do you think that is?   Yeah, I think so. I'm excited to play Dawn of War 3. And even in the Blizzard family, Warcraft 3 is significantly different from StarCraft, StarCraft 2. So just right there within one company those are three pretty different experiences. Which, War 3 and Dawn of War have that in common where there's that hero class built into it and it kind of blurs the lines between the MOBA and the RTS. I believe in the evolution of game mechanics; that's what makes new experiences engaging, is having to learn those things and figure it out.

So I think that's where there is still room for growth and for other companies to explore the space. I think in any genre when you see people trying to carbon copy, it usually doesn't work out, right? There has to be some sort of originality, some sort of new mechanic or something like that that draws people in, beyond a great story, great aesthetic, and IP. In my opinion that's where someone could see something new and then not just be Blizzard or Relic or whoever in the industry. 

Is there much left to be mined, in terms of RTS design?

I hope there's still a lot there to be mined! My current task at hand is to make StarCraft accessible again and I think we've made the right choices for that to hopefully bring a bigger, broader appeal to it to help the state of RTSes in the industry and I hope at some point to unlock that as a future for me at Blizzard, is to help the evolution of RTS. 

Do you think there's any truth to the notion that MOBAs and mobile strategy games have taken up a lot of the audience, and in a sense expanded both the bounds and the reach of real-time strategy games?    Yeah, 100 percent. I don't disagree with anything you said. I think that's what also makes it exciting to have platforms that have an editor in them that let people unlock new games like that. China right now with Warcraft 3 has a stupendously vibrant modding community and mapmaking community. The stuff they're turning out over there is amazing and who knows? Any day now could be that next paradigm shift and what people love because somebody has created a new game with the world edit from War 3.

That to me is part of the --  What you would call an RTS. The machinations of our youth in the sandbox that are the editors.

We're constantly reminded by the best and the brightest from the game industry to return to your roots. Go play board games. Go play tabletop games. Do those things that have the fundamentals really well set and I think in a lot of ways, that's what your Brood War is. It has fundamentals that everybody can point at and understand and articulate about good game design and hopefully that means having them around and keeping them vital is a good way to challenge the next generation of really great game developers. 

In your own work on StarCraft Remastered, what have you seen the need to add? What features have you felt were most lacking in that game and how did you go about addressing those issues for a modern audience?   We jokingly called this game "Make It an Option Edition" at a certain point because there were so many of those things. And that was also where we kind of had to go back to our identity when we started making the game of what are we really setting out to do. It was to keep this thing a timeless classic, sort of.

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So we don't want to change gameplay. That's an option that could easily be done. We could make your control groups bigger. We could do a bunch of other things that would be a more modern mechanic and better quality of life, but it would shatter those things that I touched on earlier about the fact that you can only have these small control groups means you have to make some tough decisions about who you put together and who you micro, versus who just shows up to the battle because of the rally point and then you hope to get them involved before the end of it.

But to address your question of what did we want to add? Matchmaking was a huge one -- and an associated ladder. Everybody talks about how good they are. They can point at win-loss records but it's very easy to just manipulate that with your buddies or understand this is a channel I can go into and find matches that I'm going to win in.

So having a true, "Who's the best in the room?" and being able to use some algorithms and some text to prove it I think is going to be super exciting. Then extending the social experience -- Again the chat channels were such a big part. Getting to bring in some of our other features for whispering and your friends and all those types of things I think are a huge value add to the game.    And the last one and then I'll shut up, I know I talk too much.    Not at all!

The cloud is huge for us. So especially in Korea with folks playing in the game rooms. If you can get up from your computer and leave and come back and tomorrow you can jump back into the game with a save location in the campaign, that's huge.

Revamped stat and replay systems in StarCraft Remastered

Also because they've never had the campaign; it's never been localized before. The people we talk to are incredibly excited to finally get to unlock the campaign and that it won't matter where they play it from. All of your-   So in Korea, they never localized all the text and audio of the campaign?   The entire game is in English in Korea. That's another reason why we had to make it the "Options" edition, because they still -- most people want to still hear the confirmations in English, even if all the dialogue gets changed to Korean, because they're just so used to hearing the marines giving their confirmation orders and things like that. 

What if a player is colorblind, or has a hard time with a mouse and keyboard. Have you given any thought to making the game more accessible?   We do have two guys on the team that are colorblind, so that one has certainly come up. We have not dealt with eye tracking or something like that to help somebody control the game that has a physical disability to play. I believe somebody out there made an addon that might address that.

But yes, to me, that type of accessibility is different than watering down gameplay to make it for a more casual audience. I don't believe RTS will ever appeal to a non-hardcore audience. And I think that's okay. League has a massive following of the most hardcore people ever and that is still, I think, what the game industry's bread and butter is: hardcore players. The mobile market and online stuff may be a little bit more appealing to people that are casual because it's more accessible. But if you're going to have a gaming rig and the right paraphernalia to play a game properly, you're hardcore and we should be challenging you with depth of play that requires you to put the hours in. Again, when push comes to shove you can say, "I'm undeniably better than you at this because of these variables that add up to being good at it."   Well, in all the time you've spent going back over this game and putting it together again, what have you learned about the art of designing an RTS game that maybe other developers could benefit from learning from?    Perfect is the enemy.

It's a really simple concept. Brood War isn't perfect, it's far from it. It has plenty of flaws, it's the fact that it's a shit-ton of fun on top of being well-balanced, right? The perception of being perfectly balanced is a perception. Who knows? With guys like Flash out there, there still could be a time where somebody finds how to break the game and then we would have to make a balance change, right? In a hypothetical.

But that to me is what makes it fun. Makes it good to see a unit and know what the foil is and bring that out and decimate it. And if the other guy doesn't have his own counter in his back pocket, you're going to win the game because you've got that. It's important to have that, "I give a piece in order to take another piece away." That, to me, is the fundamentals of an RTS because you have a limited amount of resources and you've got to make those tough decisions on the fly, and the outcome of that is what makes it good or not.

If you can't learn from those mistakes and get better at it, then your game isn't good.