Yes! If you ever decide to write it, you could always go the Rune Factory or Harvestella route! Not necessarily for the combat, but how there’s a main plot that moves the story forward.
I’m seriously considering this to practice my Italian, although Duolingo says I’m at like, A1 in CEFR levels, so we’ll see how far I get. 
Finally fully planning out the first fight scene of the game and oh boy there’s technically “three,” outcomes which I thought would be completely fine but within those three there’s actually seven pairs of outcomes that will matter long term even if some get the same short term ending.
Feel alright on actually coding in the variables but didn’t quite consider how fiddly it would be to write. So to everyone out there who writes fight scenes you have my deepest sympathy and respect! Never properly clocked how hard it was.
Thanks. Most of the first chapter of my first real project is an extended fight scene, and it did slow down the writing process quite a bit. Even now I have to sometimes pause what I’m doing, sigh and write rewrite a line to account for some minor thing that could have theoretically happened during that fight. And I dread what writing the final battle will be like. Charms of fights scenes, I suppose.
Mfw I have a combat focused IF and that list is way too accurate for my liking…
It pays off for the reader but like. It’s like 5 words for every 1 word your reader reads. And the consequences can easily spiral out of control in one fight.
But at least writing action is fun so it’s not toil I am opposed to. Best of luck in your grind, I am sure it will pay off. And I personally can’t wait to see those instances play out personally.
I am in a very down moment. I feel useless and stupid. I got triggered when I read threads about word counting.
For me it is a very harmful topic that makes me feel the worst trash in the world. And It is a reminder of why I would never have sucess or achieve anything at all.
I’ve used Pomodoro method and its great.
Now two weeks into March, and I am busy working on all my stat pages and getting everything to work, look and feel the way I want it to.
This work is harder on me, mentally and energywise, than writing is. I have to learn each step of the way in everything I am trying to do, so the results I get are harder and longer getting to, than I think it should it be.
With that in mind, today is the 15th of March and I decided to go to my Emigre project and share an excerpt from it:
Striding down the alley with the wisp of a man next to you, you reconsider your impulsive choice that you just made. “Tell me, again, what exactly I traded you my Colt Patterson pistol for again?”
“I am your agent, opening the way for you to get to California.” Interrupting himself with a wheezing cough that sprays blood-tinged phlegm your way, your agent, who you also know as Dan Halloran, continues. “In exchange for this fine hand-gun, I will take you to interview with up to three different families, one of which you will join for the trip to California.”
“And why can’t I just go to them myself, again?”
“You are taking my place on the last wagon train out of Springfield this year. There is no way I will make it with the consumption hitting me so hard right now and there is no way a Johnny Come-Late would ever get the opening spot the normal way.” Spraying blood-tinged spittle across the alley-way, once more, Dan attempts to stifle the convulsions wracking his wasted frame. “You have no choice, really. It is trust me or wait another year until the spring rolls around once more.”
Putting your hand on his shoulder, you bring Dan to a halt, allowing him time to recover his composure. “Why is it you insisted on my Colt, instead of gold coin? That makes no sense to me.”
“Look, ${pcnoun_insult}…” Looking you up and down again for the hundredth time, Dan shakes his head. “Be glad you have your health. I have all the gold and comforts I need. You saw my office and all.”
“I know, but…”
“But nothing!” Suppressing another coughing bout Dan screws his eyes at you, anger coloring his cheeks. “The doc, uptight cuss that he is, says I have a couple of weeks left. This is just too much for me, do you hear?” Pounding his chest and then pointing to you, Dan, lowering his voice says: “A man should be able to die in dignity if he wants. Of course the old doctor refuses to give me some of his cocaine cutters or opium poppers… says the medicine he has should go to people that it will do good for.”
“Why not buy your own pistol then. Or shotgun, if you prefer?” Blinking in confusion, you just don’t see the problem. “Even a new pistol from Connecticut wouldn’t cost you twenty-five gold dollars.”
“Well, I wanted to do some good with my life before leaving it behind. Figured a ungrateful ${origins} like you could use a break every now and then.”
“Still…”
“You want to drag the truth out of me, do you?” Sighing in resignation, with his anger and bitterness draining away, Dan finally reveals his motives to you. “That damn doctor forbid his son-in-law, the only gun dealer with stock, to sell me any firearm. The sonuvabitch is concerned about my soul, he is.” Walking ahead of you, Dan turns and says: “Well, are you coming, or not? I’m not giving you back the pistol. It is mine. Of course, if you miss the last wagon train …”
As in the prior months, I invite everyone to share an excerpt.
Remember that excerpts shared here are not intended to elicit proper critique and feedback, but a friendly word is always welcome.
. 
Edit:
I just saw this. Go ahead; I’m not sure whether you’ll reach the targeted testers you may be looking for, but it will be fine if you decide to post there.
I have been rather inactive in this thread this month. I’m sure everyone misses me.
Thought I’d pop in long enough for an excerpt.
That is when I notice that this sword is not jagged in the traditional sense. A series of runes alight down the blade, but it is not carved into the weapon like I would have expected, instead the sword itself is made up of a series of overlapping metallic runic symbols giving the weapon an extremely unique shape. It is like seeing a sword made from overlapping letters of the alphabet. Yet the weapon still has a very double-edged sword-like shape.
I @{HasParkour flip backwards | leap away } to make distance as Providence's sword swings low, melting the concrete on impact. Panic wells up at the back of my mind as reheated asphalt fills my nostrils, but I keep the feeling at bay as I focus on defending myself.
*if HyperHearing
Then I pick up hope in the distance. Something approaching my location in the air. I just need to hold the fallen angel off long enough for backup and hope that it is mine.
*choice
#I try to wrestle the woman to the ground.
*goto Wrestle2
*if Ferrokinesis
#I try to hold her with telekinesis.
*goto Telekinesis2
*if Blast
#I unleash a larger blast than normal, to try and force her to avoid.
*goto Blast2
#I try to keep distance.
*goto Dodge2
A screenshot from Scarlet Sorceress. Unfortunately, creating the anime-vibe in a supposedly otome-influenced CSG is nothing short of mind-boggling.
I could post an excerpt of the code, but my coding is a mess.
This is a small section from the new extra scene that becomes available at the very end of the brand new update I put out yesterday!
“I don’t hate you…” Samuel looked up at Elizabeth and sighed, crossing one arm over his chest. “I wanted to… I tried to… I tried to blame you. To blame Harper. The world. I wanted to hate everything and everyone… Anyone…” His skin heated up a bit, and he could tell it did from a small shift of Elizabeth’s position. So, he took a deep breath and did his best to stay calm. “I tried to blame myself. It’s why I-“
Samuel paused, and Elizabeth gazed back in great concern, shifting forward a little. Samuel averted his gaze once more. “Never mind… the point is, I tried to blame someone or something for what happened because I needed a reason. I needed to know why it happened. I needed to figure out what the fuck Kate ever did to deserve that, and what the whole grand fucking plan is… but Elizabeth…”
A pregnant silence haunted the room as the team leader waited to hear the next words. “Sometimes… bad things just happen. And it’s not your fault, or my fault, or-… Or Kate’s fault… The world’s just a shitty place…” Samuel’s eyes begin to water and his stance shifts even more, becoming more closed off. “One that I don’t wanna live in…” The words are mumbled, as if he’s ashamed to say them.
His eyes follow Elizabeth’s hand as it reaches out and places itself on his right shoulder.
The team leader can immediately feel the heat emanating from Samuel’s cheek and neck, but it’s not unbearable. Elizabeth isn’t great at these types of talks. She isn’t one to lay out all her feelings on the table, and frankly, neither was Samuel. The fact that this conversation was happening at all was a testament that they still cared for one another. Like a family would. So with the most sincere and reassuring tone she could muster, the team leader only had one answer to Samuel’s previous statement.
“It’s better with you in it…”
There was no response from the other agent. Just shifting eyes, looking between his team leader and the floor, and a brief pause, followed by a nod. His voice trembled, almost cracking through the small amount of air that was able to be pushed through without breaking the resilient outer shell of the closed off agent. “Can I go?”
Elizabeth nodded back, retracting her hand. Her own voice trembled slightly. “Yes… Yes, you can go.”
With that, Samuel sniffed, no doubt holding back some of the emotions threatening to snake their way through, and turned around, quickly walking out the door and closing it behind him.
Another thing I noticed just this morning. The new update I pushed out, which is only half of the new chapter, was 60k words. It only added a total of 5k words per playthrough.
C o m b a t S c e n e s~
Writing this month has been a struggle. I’ve come to the conclusion that writing transition scenes and the endings of scenes are both kind of rough for me. Still, I’ve managed to get some work done, and hopefully if I really buckle down I can still end the month with some solid progress.
I’m a little nervous to share an excerpt for the first time, but I’ve always enjoyed reading them every month, so here we go!
Walking down the street does a considerable amount to clear your head.
Easthaven’s downtown feels claustrophobic. The buildings are all lined up tightly together. There aren’t many alleyways, and those that exist are so slim a child could barely squeeze through. Every few blocks a tree is planted along the sidewalk. Their branches look stark and bare against the gray sky
Perri trots along at your side.
*if (height=“tall”)
You need to slow your pace considerably to allow ${p_xem} to keep up—your legs are much longer than ${p_xyrs}.
*else
You and Perri walk at an even pace.
It doesn’t seem like Perri’s in much of a rush, and considering how much time you’ve got on your hands, you suppose neither are you.
An idea pops into your head.
“Is there any chance you could give me a ride around the lake?”
There’s no reason why you have to wait for @{buddy Ravi|Jay} to get off work. Somebody else could get you home, where you could check in on Willow.
Perri shakes ${p_xyr} head and you hold back a sigh.
“Sorry—I’ve got to get back to the station as soon as we’re done,” ${p_xe} says apologetically, “I’m already taking too much time away as it is…”
“No worries,” you murmur.
I am not in a good mood but I forced myself to write something in ten minutes. And that is what happened. I have no idea really why this was the story. Maybe it comes from the idea of not being fitting to publish here.
The daylight passes through the window, just like the faint trace of sour milk that you accidentally spilled on your tea this morning.
You sigh and check for the 4th time, making sure that the brown rental suit fits and looks like you don’t live in a seedy motel in the part of town where even cockroaches have evictions warrants.
Mama always said, Dress for the job you want, not for the one you got. Well, having none that is easy to achieve, you mentaly snort.
You can do it, Luis you can get this job. You stammer under your breath, trying not to look at the huge number of people looking…
No,fighting for this job.
“Hey, you frigolero. This is a job for people who know how to read. Go back to the border.”
A voice that reaks of pot and prejudice, you cant see from were it exactly comes from in the dark pit of the queue.
Nobody protests, yawning, waiting for you to put it together.
Each of their glances are an empty echo of red numbers, and the broken dream of a mortgage they cannot pay.
Tenacity is a great strength of yours, Mara!
As the Italians say “Spaghetti, Pasta” (Or something like that) Pomodoro is just focus sessions with a Japanese name XD
I totally forgot today’s 15th (in writing sense anyway, I did remember to pay my bills, luckily enough) so I haven’t prepared anything, and I totally am not posting a piece of my thesis. So, have an excerpt of my diversity jam entry.
Seisoi linna lettomailla,
virran vanha vainonsuoja,
siimessä seitsemän salon,
kainalos kahdeksan kalljon.
Yep. But there’s plenty of apps with that system and they help me personally.)
Tenacity doesnt let me anywhere. I change it anyday for an ounce of talent.
A castle stood on the moors,
stream’s old persecution shelter,
seven salons in the fishing line,
armpit eight kaljon.
Is that it?
I don’t get the last line.
Both the third and fourth line in the translation are nonsense.
But sounds bizarrely poetic
