11 PM | 11 Sep

The Walking Dead: Our World – Augmented Reality (#AR) #Gaming #ARKit demo [#geekgirl]

If you’ve ever felt that there’s not enough zombie-killing action in your day-to-day life, Finnish developer Next Games has your back with The Walking Dead: Our World.

The game combines the zombie hordes of the wildly popular TV show with Pokémon Go style augmented reality gaming. Unlike Niantic’s faithful implementation of the monster-catching sim, which can see some users tramping kilometres to track down a single measly Pidgey, Our World promises that you’ll be able to “fight walkers on the streets, in the park, on your sofa, wherever and whenever you feel like it”, with weapons ranging from swords to fully-automatic firearms.

Source: wired

01 PM | 06 Sep

@InuaEllams ‘Candy Coated #Unicorns And Converse All Stars’ [#geekgirl]

She asks what I’m crying for I tell her it’s the same thing dolphins are dying for, that in my last life I was ultramarineian and though now I am a land lover, I often re-swim the blue; These tears are re-washed waters of B.B. King’s daughters, plugged into the ocean’s floor, re-sorrowed and renewed, these tears are the Blues in Bloom. I ask her what she’s crying for. shoulders slump, head rises. Bloodshot are the whites of her eyes and her pupils sparkle bright black. Her legs begin to buckle, I catch her before she hits the café floor and in my arms she whispers between sobs it’s the same thing you’re crying for that in the last hour, her boyfriend was a boxer and her jaw will testify. As she says this, her whole body sighs as if to speak makes it a truth she can no longer deny and I half carry half drag her to the coffee table The café is littered with newspapers that tell bitter fables of war in the Middle East. Snatched snippets of its distant screams pierce this bubble of brown water and baked yeast she tells of her boyfriend of a beast, as she speaks blood drips from her broken lips, slips into her coffee cup before I can stop her, she takes a sip It’s a thing going where it should not be and I’m hoping she goes against her blood and let the beast be because no one has the right between sobs, she is holding to this broken love, like a war torn mother holding to a dying child, whose watery eyes won’t let her see it’s all in vain I squeeze her shoulders, hold her hand, tell her it’s okay, let it rain. We’ll be here when the smoke clears, we’ll still be two strangers wearing old school trainers swapping tears Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. This means we can reason faster than speeding fists, can whisper louder than atomic voices can dream bigger than nuclear slaps and the only excuse that could stand is not having enough pillows to go round But we are fearful. So in this new wasteland of coffee cups and couches I will be brave. I will dare to dream a candy coated unicorn in this bruised princess, mistake cold hot chocolates for Kenyan beer, crunch ice cubes like frozen river water. And when backpacks become brief cases and this table stables wars we will sit and converse like all stars.

For more information on Inua Ellams