This is a card game that I thought of quite a while ago, when my friends and I were bored and had nothing to do. We played it as a 3-player game last time but I think it's better with 4 players.
What you need: a deck of poker cards.
Players: 3-6 players, but 4 is, in my opinion, the optimal number.
How to play:
Firstly, distribute the cards equally to players' hand. In this case, a player will have 13 cards on their hands. The game is divided into rounds and each round is divided into turns.
Sunday 8 February 2015
Project: Whose Turn Is It?
"There's no way to know the rules or the goals, yet there are seven billion players making whatever moves they want. If you lose too much or win too much, there are penalties. You can't pass your turn, and if you talk too much, you will be ostracized. There are no parameters and no way to even know the genre. This world is just.. a crappy game." - Sora, No Game No Life
Despite the negativity and personal bias reflected in the quote, I can extract one point that can at least be related to more people: that we have been, to a varying extent, longing for order - for a clear path, to a fixed and sensibly advantageous goal. It is the reason many of us are seeking direction in life, some going for the majority's choice, some powering through less traveled paths (note that less traveled does not include paths that are yet to be traveled). Have we perhaps too much freedom than we ourselves naturally desire?
It may be one of the reasons that we are playing 'simple' games: card games, board games. One may argue that chess is far from simple, and that Settlers of Catan is quite a distance apart from what you call a walk in the park; some games require deep thinking that not all may afford. Yet however complicated a game may be, aren't there still limits that we adhere upon? How is it that during a period of time, a lifeless board with no free will bind us to its limits? Yes, it is us with free will who finally surrender some of our freedom in exchange of entertainment. Is it not a proof that we long for rules, parameters, boundaries?
That was why people come up with rules. That's why I am trying to do the same. If there's any game that I thought about, if possible I would post it here. These veins has always directed me to creating games rather than playing them. It might be a card game when you can use poker cards, or it might be board games (which have more preparation etc). I might also write about the development of some simple computer games I'm working on, or some games that I have been working on for years. In any case, Whose Turn Is It? is a platform for me to post anything game-related.
Have as much fun as I do making games!
"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" - SH, Sherlock BBC
Despite the negativity and personal bias reflected in the quote, I can extract one point that can at least be related to more people: that we have been, to a varying extent, longing for order - for a clear path, to a fixed and sensibly advantageous goal. It is the reason many of us are seeking direction in life, some going for the majority's choice, some powering through less traveled paths (note that less traveled does not include paths that are yet to be traveled). Have we perhaps too much freedom than we ourselves naturally desire?
It may be one of the reasons that we are playing 'simple' games: card games, board games. One may argue that chess is far from simple, and that Settlers of Catan is quite a distance apart from what you call a walk in the park; some games require deep thinking that not all may afford. Yet however complicated a game may be, aren't there still limits that we adhere upon? How is it that during a period of time, a lifeless board with no free will bind us to its limits? Yes, it is us with free will who finally surrender some of our freedom in exchange of entertainment. Is it not a proof that we long for rules, parameters, boundaries?
That was why people come up with rules. That's why I am trying to do the same. If there's any game that I thought about, if possible I would post it here. These veins has always directed me to creating games rather than playing them. It might be a card game when you can use poker cards, or it might be board games (which have more preparation etc). I might also write about the development of some simple computer games I'm working on, or some games that I have been working on for years. In any case, Whose Turn Is It? is a platform for me to post anything game-related.
Have as much fun as I do making games!
"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" - SH, Sherlock BBC
Wednesday 4 February 2015
Demian
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Demian
“Hey,
Hey, Demian, Why do you stick with me?”
His
pointy, white-dyed hair prevents me from looking at his eyes as he answered, “I
didn’t stick with you, you did.” He didn’t flinch nor slow down as he spouted
his answer, and he didn’t bothered to look at me after that – he knows I would
be smiling. I always am. “Of course you didn’t,” I responded, and that was the
end of one conversation, among many that I had tried to have with him. “Although,
I admit that you are an interesting person,” he continued. “Can I take that as
a compliment?” I asked as he sped up his pace, a question to which he sighed.
Sunday 1 February 2015
Home at Last
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Home at Last
He was grateful that people can be careless, before unhesitatingly proceed to trespass into the cyan-painted house.
The man in wounds dropped himself after shutting the door, clearly relieved that, at least for a moment, he would be hidden – and probably saved. Sighing while wondering why his life could be in such a mess, he took a quick glance throughout the room he was in, and found out through the waving curtain and the carelessly-left-open window, that the sun has risen and thus it has been hours since his peaceful night life ended. Despite his tired self, he managed to stand up and pull a sofa to block the front door – all out of his fear and insecurity, albeit unreasonable ones. Sighing once again, he then turned around to explore the place that from then on he would call home.
He was grateful that people can be careless, before unhesitatingly proceed to trespass into the cyan-painted house.
The man in wounds dropped himself after shutting the door, clearly relieved that, at least for a moment, he would be hidden – and probably saved. Sighing while wondering why his life could be in such a mess, he took a quick glance throughout the room he was in, and found out through the waving curtain and the carelessly-left-open window, that the sun has risen and thus it has been hours since his peaceful night life ended. Despite his tired self, he managed to stand up and pull a sofa to block the front door – all out of his fear and insecurity, albeit unreasonable ones. Sighing once again, he then turned around to explore the place that from then on he would call home.
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