Blog Post #6 A Bit of Being Lost; A Bit of Being Found
M. 10/7/2024
(3 hours)
I worked on the religious aspect of the worldbuilding for this project. I had notes on this magic system based around emotion and supernatural patrons— the Obsidian vault got lost in the fire, but I still have the commonplace book with scattered notes throughout. I was able to recreate a satisfying amount of the lore. I’ll post it here, as well.
In the living Ettingrad— filled with humans alone— there is one cell of supernatural beings that grant mortals with power. They are called “Sadists,” because they feed off of powerful emotion— usually suffering— and catalyze that energy into their own strength. The Sadists do not exist in either the Mortal Realm or in the Epilogue; they exist somewhere out in the Aether, watching, watching.
In ancient times, lives were offered as blood sacrifices to the Sadists— offered in gruesome spectacles designed to evoke visceral emotion. The rituals to create such a link between the otherworldly and the mundane have long since been lost, but the blood-soaked stone altars remain potent sources of connection with the bloody patrons. The stone of the altars (stained red) have been carved into wieldable artifacts known as “crucifixes.” Those crucifixes are engraved with literary “Passages” that evoke a particular emotion. Magick, Bloodletting, Martyrdom— they’re all names for the very specific brand of spellcasting that acolytes of the Sadists employ. To successfully cast a spell, the martyr has to empathize with the emotion of the Passage, which then creates a magical effect dependent on the content of the writing.
Bloodletting is a sacred practice, and is held and employed by a very insular group of citizens in Ettingrad. I am attaching a chart depicting the situation.
Let me break it down.
Not everyone knows about the Sadists; in fact, very few do. There are martyrs (casters) who, yes, do know (Ym); there are martyrs who, no, do not know (Nm); there are commoners (Co) who are not spellcasters at all.
I: Industrialists; value industry. The few who do know about bloodletting— even just a miniscule amount of speculation regarding unexplainable effects— seek to turn that into a power source for their industrialization.
C: Cultists; value Sadists. They seek to pervert others to the Sadists’ cause, typically through the use of crucifixes with dried “marrow.”✝
R: Religious; value community/the people. Very few religious clergymen and followers know about the Sadists. There is a religious sect in Ettingrad known as the “Common Faith,” which ignorantly takes tales originating from bloodletting and creates sacred rites and practices around them.
W: Witches; value bonds. All witches are only Ym (which is why they aren’t in the chart). Witches seek to create implements of spellcasting devoid of corruption. They do so by breaking the “Taboo of Erosion”— grinding crucifixes to dust, mixing dust from multiple crucifixes, and using that to cast— and by breaking the “Taboo of Masochism”— engraving Passages on bones of martyrs— living and dead. As they regularly break these taboos, witches function in small groups (usually three or less); they cannot trust most.
✝ “Marrow” is the residual blood remaining in crucifixes. It serves as a human filter for the corrupting influence of the Sadists. Cultists purposefully induct new initiates with dried up crucifixes to allow for this to occur.
Let’s talk about the misguided faith of the Commoners.
The Common Faith is the religion that the majority of the citizens of Ettingrad subscribe to. It maintains cultural aspects of bloodletting— primarily with the continued use of Old Runic— the language used by the sacrificers of yore to communicate with the Sadists— in its sacred rituals. There are “saints” of the Common Faith— people with supernatural powers. A significant portion of these saints are Children of Stone.
When a martyr dies, but the emotion coursing through their veins at the time of their death is potent enough, that Essence— everything that made up that person— is sucked into the crucifix they were using. That Essence within a crucifix is known as a “Motive,” and, if wielded by another martyr, influences the casting with its personality and memories. The unfinished business that ties its Essence to the Mortal Realm can be absolved, but only if the Motive consciously “gives up their ghost”, sacrificing their pain for someone else’s good. The most iconic of these Motives are known as “blood giants”— golems formed of bloodstained stone that move of their own volition. Tales are whispered about blood giants— about their vicious nature, lashing out at anything that moves— but to most, those are folktales. Regardless, if a Motive “gives up the ghost,” the stone of their crucifix vessel cracks open, and an organic child is borne forth. These are the Children of Stone.
Children of Stone are unique in a number of ways. They do not retain memories of their past selves; they are a blank slate. And, as creatures who have transcended their suffering, they can perform magical effects without the patronage of the Sadists.
Seeing as they don’t know the cause of their powers, it makes sense why people would flock to these individuals— ordinary in all ways aside from one.
There is a small cult following a purported Child of Stone named Clay Reaper. He is, in fact, not a Child of Stone; he merely coerced a witch into carving runes into his bones, and sewing him back up— giving him supernatural powers as long as the wounds cause him to suffer.
Ok I actually need to start answering the assignment prompts.
Any Gods/Spirits/Supernatural Beings
Sadists.
At least One Story (Creation, Love, etc.)
The spellcasters of a thousand years past sacrificed hundreds of people on their stone sacrificial altars. The suffering evoked created an indelible bond between the Sadists and the mortals. Now, with the sacrificial rites long since lost, the stone of the bloodsoaked altars is used as the base material for various magical implements, known as “crucifixes.” Passages evoking powerful emotion are carved into the crucifixes in the ancient language, Old Runic, to implore the Sadists to give the martyrs power.
At least One Custom (Marriage, Wedding, etc.)
When a martyr dies, their corpse is riddled with lingering soulful magick. It is seen as desecration by some, but for the crafty witches, the death of a martyr presents the opportunity to create new, organic crucifixes constructed of the dead martyr’s bones. This additional layer of humanity offers a buffer between the corrupting influence of the Sadists and the next spellcaster.
At least One Holiday
The Day of Industrious Fortification. Multiple times a year, ne’er-do-wells are rounded up and placed in the “Cathedrals” located throughout the city. These were actual religious cathedrals, but the city was forced to sell them to the industrialists to pay off its debts. The industrialists repurposed the vaulted grandeur into a confined arena. Seating in the higher alcoves provides the eager audiences with a view into the bloodbath below, as the proclaimed “sacrifices” are forced to battle each other to the death.§ Channels and pipes funnel the blood of the sacrifices out through a series of aqueducts, into the river “capillaries” snaking throughout the city. On the Days of Industrious Fortification, the rivers run red.ꟸ
§This was proposed to welcome acclaim by one leading industrialist, Alister Vaunt— an individual with a thirst for ancient lore that drove him to understanding the base aspects of the blood sacrifices of yore.
ꟸAt least one famous cryptid arose from these occurrences: the Old Man of the River— a bloated figure that stares hollowly out from reflections of the rivers streaked with blood. Casual passersby are in for a shock, when a purposeless glance into the water below reflects not them, but an obese old man mirroring their movements. To go further into the lore, the Old Man of the River was one of the leaders of the sacrifices a thousand years ago. His acolytes— crazed and bloodthirsty— one day chose to pin him down on an altar positioned over a spring, and sacrifice him. His blood ran down the altar, into the bubbling font.
Any Beliefs or Morals held by the people. (At least 3)
The Taboo of Erosion. Stone naturally erodes, and thus it is superbly disallowed to carve new runic Passages into existing crucifixes. The resource of bloodstained altars is nonrenewable; it must be preserved.
The Taboo of Masochism. It is taboo to carve runic Passages into organic material— living and dead. There is no “marrow” to filter the corrupting influence of the Sadists; living masochists often become possessed by a mindless drive to inflict suffering upon others.
The Taboo of Corruption. While a distinct sect of cultists to the Sadists do this, it is generally taboo to present new martyr initiates with crucifixes devoid of “marrow.” This is— similar to the Taboo of Masochism— to prevent the corrupting influence of the Sadists upon unsuspecting new initiates.
Description of Education and Worship
There are two aspects to this. 1) The education and worship of those of the Common Faith. 2) The education and worship of martyrs.
1) The Common Faith raises its acolytes from birth, overseeing naming rituals, bonding rituals, and rites of passage. The Faith finds itself no longer in grand cathedrals, but in humble temples erected throughout Ettingrad. The clergy promotes love for the collective— for the people— and selflessness above all. This often took place in the form of group mind-melding— a form of collective meditation, directed to further a sense of oneness. In the time of the Great War, even cynics flocked to the temples to seek guidance. What they did not realize, though, was that it was collectivism that caused the atrocities of war.
2) The Martyrs are— and were— scholars by trade. Traditionally, martyrdom and the process of bloodletting is not passed down by familial lines. High ranking scholars and professors in the universities of Ettingrad single out promising writers and artists— as well as linguists— and guide them through an exceptionally limited trial casting. It is never enough for the candidate to extrapolate and fill their gaps in understanding; they would never be able to deduce the intricacies of bloodletting by these trials. If the trial goes successfully, and the candidate resists the corruption of the Sadists capably, the elder moves forward to induct the new initiate into the myriad ranks of martyrs.
Martyrdom is diverse and varied in its practices. There are conservative casters, using ancient crucifixes pre-written with Passages. There are reckless cultists, imposing their chaotic wills upon unsuspecting newlings. And, among others, there are witches, isolated crafters and innovators, hoping to preserve the bonds of humanity within martyrdom.
Conservatives do not worship the Sadists. They study them, and they study great literature of the past, to better understand and empathize with pre-written Passages.
Cultists do worship the Sadists. They perform ill-founded rituals, attempting to recreate sacrifices of yore. They educate initiates through séances, opening their unshielded minds to the eldritch influence of their dark patrons.
Witches are agnostic, and actually have many similar values with those of the Common Faith. They cherish community— though they are excluded from it— and aim to preserve human bonds above all. Their practices are secretive, and witches do not easily trust newcomers with their knowledge. They do take pity upon those who have tried to do what they do— innovate bloodletting and protect martyrs— and in those rare and tragic circumstances, can be swayed to allow a witchling into their ranks.
T. 10/8/2024
(5.5 hours)
I researched ten folklore creatures for the assault scenario. I’ve included the list below, compiled from watching this video.
A-Senee-Ki-Wakw: a race of stone giants from Abenaki folklore; made of stones
Onocentaur: a bipedal centaur with its only two legs being donkey legs
Kee-Wakw: a giant part-human, part-animal cannibalistic forest dwelling creature; horns of a deer; covered in shaggy fur
Fish Man: an entity of Spanish folklore that looks pretty much just as expected
Bannik: a Slavic guardian spirit of bathhouses; he appears as a small, naked, long-bearded old man; he is covered in birch leaves (left over from bath brooms); he pours boiling water on intruders— or strangles them.
Psoglav: a Balkan mythological creature, described as having a human body with horse legs, a dog's head with iron teeth, and a single eye on the forehead; man eating— even going as far as digging up bodies to eat
Indus Worm: a giant, white, carnivorous worm, with a pair of large teeth; lived in the Indus River
Scorpion Man: a race of creatures similar in structure to the centaur— but swap horse parts for scorpion parts
Oozlum Bird: a spiritual bird that, when startled, flies around in decreasing circles, until it flies up its own backside— disappearing completely
Fachan: in Scottish folklore, described as having a single eye in the middle of its face, a single hand protruding from its chest instead of arms, and a single leg emerging from its central axis; it uses an iron spiked club to chase away anything that comes near it; it hates life, and will destroy entire farms in a single day
This took about 20 minutes.
One of my goals for this sprint is defining ten folklore creatures for the assault scenario, so this is good! I specifically chose a variety of creatures that won’t necessarily upstage Nøkken. I want the creatures to be recognizable, but not too easily.
Idea! Bena has a well or perhaps a large bath in her hovel— the Fish Man erupts from the water.
Later.
I was just working on the Spooky Horsey House map whitebox for like three hours— saving consistently— but it crashed again and the file upon reopening had none of the progress that I made. I feel really bad saying this, but I doubt Adam reads this blog— I’ve realized that I hate modeling. Like sculpting? Yeah, love it. But this recreating blocky shapes— first off from a map that I did not make the final version of— is arduous, challenging, and makes me want to slam my skull through the desk. And then it crashes, and removes all of the meager progress I’ve made.
A main challenge is that this 3D visualization necessary to take this tiny map and make it a big 3D one— it’s not something that’s coming easily to me. I have to fly back to the foyer and view the entire map from that perspective— then fly over to where I’m building the next room, build it wrong because I lost that perspective, and have to rebuild over and over again.
I asked in the project Discord whether it’s possible to import the 2D map as a reference into the whiteboxing level— blow it up, and put it on the ground plane. That would help so much!
Even later.
I remember this scene from the first Fablehaven book where fairy tale creatures are assaulting the attic where the main characters sleep. I think that scene is a big inspiration for the hovel assault scenario. So, I got the book on my Kindle, and started rereading it. I hadn’t read it since I was a kid; I was surprised by how not-low the reading level it is. Like, it’s definitely a YA book, but it’s still pretty good. It holds up. (2 hours).
W. 10/9/2024
(2 hours)
I went to bed last night at like 2am (I was reading Fablehaven), and I woke up at 6:45am.
During Studio, I worked on filling out the asset list, and finding references for each to put on the Miro. Adam said that he’s going to do the whiteboxing. I am eternally grateful.
Later.
I just spent an hour and a half trying to ZSphere my MC, Alice. I figured something out— but overall it was a frustrating waste of time; nothing to show. The thing I figured out is that I can change the mirror center through Transform —> Set Pivot Point. So even if the mesh isn’t in the center, I can make it the center, and do Mirror X Axis.
The reason why it was a frustrating waste of time was that the spheres kept moving out of alignment— so I would have to re-align each of them; I also had to restart three or four times because something happened that I still don’t fully understand— but it messed up the mesh so badly that restarting was the only option. I really hate modeling. Once I get to the sculpting, I’m golden. But getting to that point is really quite awful. I would continue working on it, but it’s late, and I still have to do my Ultimate Self Confidence Mindvalley quest lesson for the day. I intend on getting up early— not as early as today— and working on my projects tomorrow with a clear head.
W. 10/16/2024
I just spent an hour and a half modeling Rachel for my Studio project.
I didn’t get very far, but it’s still a big win.
For the past three-ish weeks, I’ve been experiencing a depressive episode. This happens to me pretty regularly— just a psychological predisposition. And as a result, I have gotten very little done in terms of work for both my Studio project and my Seminar project.
I didn’t present in Seminar today. And I’d been sleeping so much that I was concerned I wouldn’t wake up in time for class, so I just didn’t sleep last night. I wrote this this morning, after taking a cold shower at 5am.
“It’s like a fever broke. I was standing in the shower— just out of reach of the cold water— listing things that I was grateful for. And usually that lifts my spirits, but suddenly I found myself shaking with tearless sobs— feeling that all of the effort, and study, and fasting— feeling that trying so hard to live a good life— was the cause for the multiple week-long depressive episode that I had found myself in. And I said out loud, to myself, “This just happens. I am prone to regular depressive episodes. It is not caused by the effort of doing good. It is just probable that if I have been trying so hard for a while— that an episode will come on. It’s like flow state. It’s not a light switch; it’s cyclical. First comes the struggle, then release, then flow, then recovery. And I had never before realized that that is perfectly analogous to my mental health. I try so hard, but when lows strike me, I assume that it was caused by my effort, and, without fail, I have given up. I have never made it beyond the Struggle phase.
“And suddenly, I felt like I could breathe again. And suddenly, I realized that for weeks, I had been holding my breath— and now, now I could breathe again. And part of that is metaphorical— but part of it is actually literal; I’ve been congested for about as long as this depressive episode has been going on, and I have held my breath more than I should— because I didn’t want to mouth-breathe. But primarily, it was like I had been swimming in darkness— groping out for the light, the surface— and breaking that glassy surface into something bright again. And the pressure in my lungs eased. And I breathed easily.
“And I feel good now. I was concerned that I wouldn’t wake up in time for class, so I had decided to just never go to bed. And my stomach is a bit upset— but that’s expected. I feel a bit of the chills— but that’s expected.
“So I breathe, and I push onward. I don’t know if it’s genuine— if the depressive episode is over— but I do know what is over: giving up when I hit a dip. I am dedicated to my creativity, and for that, I need to crest over the Struggle phase, through Release, into Flow, and Recover actively.
“I once wrote, “We are just beginning.” At that time, I did not realize just how true it was.”
And I didn’t feel physically on top today. Seminar was virtual, but I still went to the grad lab (so I wouldn’t be late for Studio). But I was falling asleep. And during Studio, Adam said I could go home early, so I did, and I took a five hour nap.
But I have a new perspective. And I’m grateful for that.
And I worked on actual schoolwork.
I have been doing a bit of game design during this depressive episode, but only for D&D. I wrote two subclasses— the fighter Stalker and the Rogue Hexling— both of which I’m very proud of. I’m not going to detail them here— they’re going to go in the next book— but they’re both pretty complex, and I’ll be playing the hexling for my replacement character for my campaign here.
I’ll be getting academic accommodations soon, so being so behind on three of my four classes shouldn’t affect my grades— I don’t know what the significance of grades are in grad school, though— especially in this program, the skills we develop speaks more than grades. I do want to keep mine up, though.
Later.
I’m still feeling a bit unwell after last night, so I sent the picture of my progress on Rachel to Adam, then retired to play Hogwarts Legacy (1 hour). I’m not sure what they did, but the hair, in particular, looks way better. Must be in the recent updates? I remember Ezra saying that people make a good living just doing hair for AAA game studios. I wonder how I could learn how to make hair like that.
F. 10/18/2024
I went and got my letter of accommodation. And I submitted it to the Student Accessibility office. It says that it can take up to two weeks to schedule an intake to discuss accommodations.
Sa. 10/19/2024
I have been writing. A lot. I wrote most of the day today. I have been feeling better. I have not exactly been doing better. My mum called me in the evening and asked what I’ve been up to. I told her, I said, “I’ve been writing.” She asked, “For school?” And I replied, “For pleasure.” She reminded me of the Pomodoro technique, and suggested that writing for pleasure could be the breaks. So I got down to work. I made the Magnus Bear heads for my long-late Totem Pole modeling assignment.
Su. 10/20/2024
When I was growing up, I spent a portion of every summer— 3rd grade - 10th grade— at a creative writing camp at UCSD. What I wrote changed a lot. Sometimes it wasn’t very serious. I had a buddy, Ian, who went to Coronado— the years we were both in the program, we collaborated on some pretty inane stuff. I never got his contact info. At a pole vault meet at Coronado, I thought I saw him, in the distance. He ran distance. But I hesitated, and he was gone. If Ian, if you see this, send me an email. mkb@findingmason.com.
After Ian graduated from the camp, I settled down, and actually got pretty passionate about writing performance poetry. Slam poetry. I had a pretty misled approach to the content I was writing about— I thought it had to be about traumatic stuff I’d been through. And I’m not saying that it has to be about happy stuff. It just doesn’t have to be about anything. Not nothing. Just not one thing.
And when I graduated from the camp, I was invited back on as a Teaching Assistant. I taught spoken word poetry. My last summer as a TA there, I was pretty sick— you know, in the head— but I had a fulfilling time— especially when I got to work with the older students. Students who actually cared about what they were writing.
In high school, I performed with the Poetry Club; in my senior year, I became Vice President of it.
I wrote poetry throughout undergrad. I had some pretty upsetting pieces that I submitted to the Button Poetry video contest, a few years back. I took an upper div poetry workshop in my final year. I had a thing with a poet in that class. My poetry at that time was better— at least, in content— and also probably in technique.
But I haven’t written fiction prose in years. I sat down about a week ago and tried to write. I couldn’t. It just didn’t work. Nothing came. The world didn’t move. But I remembered, later in the week, how flow state is already primed immediately when you wake up, so— I think it was Friday— I did that. I sat down and wrote for over an hour (I had said to myself, “15 minutes”) just after I woke up. Saturday, I wrote throughout the day. Today, Sunday, I got up at 9:30am (wow!) and wrote immediately. Over the past, like, three days— let’s see, I’ve written 23 pages. It’s all cohesive. It’s one story. I’m not going to say what it’s about, yet, because that’ll spoil my need to create it— having a premature audience, and all. I’m not writing for any goal. I’m not writing because I have to. I’m writing because it’s enjoyable. Today, I did the Pomodoro technique again— “work” = my totem pole; “break” = writing. Sometimes its hard getting back into the story in those five minutes; sometimes I stay overlong in those breaks, finishing up an idea.
I think the beauty of it is that I’m not dedicated to an end product. I’m not writing to, per se, have a book at the end. I’m just writing, and it’s turning into a longer, cohesive piece— longer and more cohesive than any prose I’ve ever written before. And I’ve been writing for almost two decades.
Thinking about it— the autotelicity of it— it reminds me that my published D&D book, Wanderer’s Guide to Dromknost (available on my homepage) was the same. I was never planning on having a book until a few months before leaving for grad school. I was just writing homebrew content because I enjoyed it. It was certainly not all being playtested. I have around 80 subclasses, including from two original classes, and I ran, like, three campaigns with 4-5 players each over the past three years. So, yeah. Autotelic.
And I doubt that I’d be writing this much about this, right now, if I hadn’t been writing purposefully— in fictional prose.
Anyways, here’s what I have for my totem pole.
It’s supposed to have a central theme. I was thinking about doing Eikons from FFXVI, but those wouldn’t look natural— at least, trying to make it look carved from a singular tree trunk. So, eventually, I decided on doing the mascots for Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, and Taako Taako— the bear, the owl (I added his eyepatch for fun), and the mongoose. I just have the mongoose left. I wanted it to look interesting from all angles, so I arrayed the faces around a central column. I’ll make it look more cohesive— and add unifying grain and cracks— once Taako’s mongoose is done.
I need to work on this Seminar project. But I have been creating, and I hadn’t been feeling well at all— so creating anything still feels like an accomplishment. And getting up at 9:30am today— well, there were days in the past three weeks that I got up after 4pm— and days that I slept 20 hours. So, yeah, an accomplishment.
M. 10/21/2024
Today I finished blocking out the Rachel mesh. Adam’s going to look over it— and, if approved, I’ll start sculpting. Similar to the past two days, I did the Pomodoro technique— writing in my breaks. I wrote a couple more pages of The Mongrel Sings. Not much, and it was harder to write, but still staying in the groove of that story.
In Organic Modeling today, we had a bit of a chill day, so I had time to ask Ezra some questions about customizing ZBrush— I had had trouble getting into the Zoom call the day he went over it. I took notes, and tried to replicate it myself— got some help— and replicated it here, at home. It’s mostly just having a custom menu with a few frequently used brushes.
Speaking of Organic Modeling, I sculpted and modeled Taako’s mongoose for the totem assignment. I added a wizard hat just to tie it all together. Obviously, I’ll be touching it up in ZBrush. But I have all of the components done!
I watched a devlog video about Welcome to Elderfield. It’s a solo-developed game— made in RPGMaker— that mixes farming sim with eldritch horror and turn-based combat. There’s a demo out, which I downloaded, and am planning on playing tonight after writing this. It’s made by someone who historically is a musician and visual artist— and has a podcast called The Weather Channel, which has the same setting as Welcome to Elderfield. I found the Ill-Advised Records (his label) playlist on Spotify— and have been listening to it for the past few hours— including in the shower! It’s like lofi but with some horror mixed in. One of my most productive playlists (playlists that induce productivity) is the Bloodborne soundtrack; like that, Ill-Advised has just enough deliberate stress-inducing qualities for my purposes.
What else?
Oh I asked my friends from UC Davis if they would want to read what I’ve been writing. They’re still waiting on the personalized copies of Wanderer’s Guide to Dromknost— and we only play our pirate campaign once a month— so I felt like sharing. There are a lot of references to our D&D campaigns in The Mongrel Sings. I reinstalled InDesign, and made a pair of pdfs— one in A5 (like a book) and the other just a standard pdf (this one maintained italics). I only included the completed first drafts of the first two chapters. Remembering Andy Weir’s interview on Re:Thinking— I chose not to include or even reference unfinished parts of the story. The only bits that see an audience are the completed drafts. That keeps my motivation to write flying.
Later.
I played Welcome to Elderfield for about an hour. It’s almost midnight. But I’ve already showered and all. I realize that I have never played a farming sim. And Elderfield is more than that— it’s incomplete, but it has really interesting thematic elements that attracted me; I’ve never been attracted to playing Stardew Valley, by contrast. Visually it’s striking, with its dark shadows and warm hues. Narratively, I can already tell that— when it’s finished— it’ll have a great story— with innovative mechanics, as well.
Side note. I ran a D&D campaign a couple of years back— the setting was the miniature, magic-infused, gothic horror town of Elderville. Whenever I think about Elderfield, I think about Elderville. And Elderville is, possibly, the campaign that I’m most proud of having run. I crafted 3D maps. I wrote much of the plot before starting the campaign. The vibes were immaculate. I had “DLC” to expand when we wanted to extend the length. So, it’s definitely biased— my appreciation for Elderfield. Worth noting.
I had an idea while playing— I still want to make Crossed Stars, the retro space RPG. It was so complicated making the 2D elements in a top-down version of Unreal; Elderfield was made in RPGMaker— the developer said that it was really easy. Maybe— along with continuing my studies and Seminar project and Studio and all— I could try making Crossed Stars in RPGMaker. And I definitely want the Big Bad to be an eldritch horror— it’s in space, and I love horror— this end enemy can influence the thematic elements leading up to it.
T. 10/22/2024
Today I slept until 2pm. I’m not upset, though. For the first time, I had a dream that seemed to last just as long as how long I was sleeping. And it was super elaborate, and very inspirational— from a game dev perspective. I was with my mum and my younger sister, and we were in a forest lodge town in winter— no snow yet, just frigid. We were going from location to location, solving really complicated puzzles (which, of course, I cannot remember clearly— other than that they were dope); each puzzle solved spawned a clue, which we used to go to the next location— and the next puzzle. Eventually, we realized that all of it was building up to an eldritch abomination that had begun terrorizing the town— it had the form of a giant spider (Nameless, anyone?). There was all this lore about hunting abominations— the hunters (us— at this point joined by my childhood dog, Scrappy) were alerted to the presence of the aberration when it started causing ruin; the monster was also alerted to the identities of the hunters hunting it— and more than that, because these monstrosities had the preternatural perception to watch us, listen to us— from anywhere— despite its physical location. So when we started making plans to hunt it, we had to be very discreet. We had to refrain from talking about it as much as possible, and we had to keep physical evidence of our plans secret— even from the other hunters.
I can only assume that this dream was caused by playing Elderfield before bed last night. Who would’ve thought that a cozy horror farming game could spawn such an intriguing, suspenseful dream?
Anyway, not much work done yet today. I arrived to the classroom of my worldbuilding class 45 minutes early; I knew that if I stayed home, I’d be unproductive/asleep— so I’m here, and working on finishing this blog post and making the PowerPoint to submit for last week’s sprint (that I missed, because of— the tough time I’ve been having).
I messaged Adam about the Rachel blockout. He responded that a) it is twelve feet tall, and b) it’s too stylized. So I’m going to rework the proportions after class tonight— since Studio is tomorrow.
I forgot to take note of the time spent on creative work— from the past few days— but I’ve been working around five-to-six hours a day on this stuff— sometimes more.
