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Posts tagged ‘Not My Type’

Blood

Using an incomplete Chromomancy engine, a totally different side project was made that has nothing to do with fractals or dots.  It is called Blood.

It is a metaphorical microscopic view of blood.  There is a border, and credit goes to “DanDaBear” for that and I own no rights to the picture and all that legal stuff.

More importantly, there, in the yellowish plasma (different kind of plasma than the one in Chromomancy), are a number of red circles.  Those are red blood cells.  They move around.  That is all there is so far.

But just to keep my mind clear, I’m going to list all the features I plan to have in this project in order of implementation.

1.  Different Blood Types

2. Mixing different blood types.

3.  Blood conglobulation (that word sounds much cooler than agglutination).

4. Sound effects.

5. Background music that may or may not relate in an obscure way to Angora Rabbits.

———-

Now, some poetry!

Once upon a time, there was a Red Blood Cell. Its name was Bob.

Blood Cell Bob was AB+

And life was boring, no big fuss

For adventure, Bob had yearned

And so he’ll have a lesson learned.

All Bob wanted was to meet

Another cell, an O to greet.

Foolish Bob had left his home

In other blood, he will now roam

Searching for a friendly O

He finally found a blood cell, Zoe

In excitement, Bob had spoke

In hopes his poem could invoke.

Shall I compare thee to a red balloon?

Thou art more mobile and more beautiful

Rough winds do shake balloons awry at noon,

And Helium lack color plentiful.

Sometime too bright the dye of plastic shows

And often is the red complexion dead

And every fair from fair malady grows

By chance, or nature’s changing course, unsaid

But thy eternal redness shall not dud

Nor lose possession of that fair thou O’est

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his blood

When in eternal veins to blood thou flowest

So long as cells are red, or veins are blue

So long lives this, and this gives life to you.

And Zoe looked at Bob and said, “You’re not my type”.

Poor Bob 😦

Shakespeare is probably shouting profanity at me for making such a mess of his sonnet.

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