Hello, person reading this! I'm Angie Nyx, a video game developer and frequent good poster. If you're on my page, you're probably here because I talked about my projects, about my games generally, or about Toki Pona. So lemme put essential info in this pinned post.
-Gamedev-
I am, among other things, a developer of turn-based RPG's, with the goal of uniting story and gameplay as a cohesive whole. So often in games we treat the two as separate things, because so often games basically are a movie or visual novel inter-cut with bits of interactivity. I don't just want to make a good game or tell a good story, I want to make a good interactive story.
My current project is Daybreak Hearts, a tactics game about the necessity and difficulty of forming connections. I'm making this game in SRPG Studio, which is the same engine the old Fire Emblem director uses to make Vestaria Saga. I've been using this engine for a good few years, and I'm very close to somebody who does plugins for it, so if you have any questions about it, just send an ask my way. And of course, if you want updates on Daybreak Hearts, feel free to ask, or check the tag.
If you want to check out the rest of my catalogue, I'm on itch.io as nyx. You should especially check out Fiora: Full Bloom, which is a turn-based RPG that uses the genre's mechanics to explore gender identity and mental health. I'm also proud of If You Had One Turn, which I made for a gamejam and later updated, and which is about winning RPG battles in only one turn. I've been at this for a while, and I'm getting better as I grow more confident and take things more seriously. Also check out this post, a series of manifestos about what I want as a game developer.
-Talking About Games-
Part of being a game developer and also autistic is that I think about games constantly all the time and do so with an analytical lens. The longer-form stuff tends to go to my essay blog, but I do post a lot of my stray thoughts on here. Just so know where my preferences lean, I like:
Tactics Games: This is my favorite genre, and I love talking about it. I love Into The Breach, Marvel's Midnight Suns, and Triangle Strategy, all of which are worth checking out. I also like modern XCOM, some of the Fire Emblem games, and I can even find something nice to say about Gears Tactics.
RPGs: I find a lot of comfort in a genre that is mostly centered around number-crunching. I'm really into Xeno, more Gears than Blade though. I have a complicated relationship with Final Fantasy, let's just say Motomu Toriyama is an underappreciated director. And on the western side, Deus Ex is pretty cool, and I have GOT to get back on Baldur's Gate 3. Also on the indie side, play Cataphract OI and Helen's Mysterious Castle.
Mystery Games: Ace Attorney changed my brain chemistry as a child and now I have Miles Edgeworth in my head. I also love Ghost Trick obviously, and I also really like the Zero Escape games (yes, even that one) and Her Story. If you wanted to get me a Steam gift, either Telling Lies or Return of the Obra Dinn would be perfect.
Platformers: Mario... good. I'm also into Celeste, Metroid, Sonic on its better days, and also A Hat In Time is pretty good. Platformers embody Video Games to me.
Puzzle Games: This is partially an extension of the mystery games thing but i also really love 14 Minesweeper Variants and other stuff by Artless Games. Also Baba Is You is good, of course.
I try to appreciate everything I can about a game, and use my perspective as a game designer to maybe give some new insights. If you're looking for some videos, I'd recommend New Frame Plus, Game Maker's Toolkit, and especially talks from GDC and GDoC. I have a playlist of my favorite talks here.
-Toki Pona-
I speak Toki Pona, and I like to think I'm pretty good at it. To prove it to people who care, here's a special message that i'm too afraid to say in English, so we tokiponists get to have it for ourselves. (content warning for pakala unpa)
toki! mi kisa Ansi. tenpo mute la, mi pilin e ni: mi jan wan, lon insa kulupu suli. ni li ken ike e pilin mi, tan ni: kulupu suli li wile e ijo mute tan jan, taso jan li wile pana ala. tenpo mute la, kulupu tonsi li toki e ni tawa mi: "lon tonsi li unpa. sina tonsi la, sina wile unpa." taso, mi tonsi. tenpo mute la, mi wile ala unpa. jan wan li pakala e mi kepeken unpa, la mi monsuta e ona. ni li ike, taso, mi ken pilin ike. pilin ike li ike ala. ni la, mi toki e ni tawa sina: o sina. o pali e wile sina. o pali ala e wile pi sina ala. sina sina. sina ken sina. o pana e pona tawa sina. sina jan wan, taso, sina jan suli.
(Also I'm catkin and plural so don't be surprised or angry if I post about either of those.)
1 note
·
View note
Tales of Ammon
Ok, so here is a thing that I had absolutely no intention of writing. It’s like a prequel to a manga project I have going on, but focused on one of the side characters - who is really useful but just a terrible person overall. I mean, I love him as a character, but I would probably hate him as a person.
Is this the best thing I have ever written? No. But it’s decent enough that I’m going to post it here.
I recommend listening to Aslan Senki’s OST while reading it... either that or Woodkid’s Golden Age album, mainly the songs Iron and The Deer. It’s what I listened to while writing.
I had more stuff to say... uhm, the setting is mythic-arabic-ish, mixed up with some magic, and dragons. It’s a fun mess I’ll be delighted to explain to anyone interested.
@wanderingsofalice, I finished the thing at like 2h30 AM, and just edited it!
Okay, that’s enough, hope you all enjoy!
(Introduction right off, then lots of story under the cut - full word count: 3253)
The Ammon Empire is called an Empire due to the sheer extension of its territory, along with its tendency to solve its problems with brute force. Objectively, however, the Ammon Empire is at least 70 percent desert, 15 percent barren and 15 percent barely salvageable land where almost nothing grows, surrounded by the Baraz mountains, which are practically insurmountable and infested with monsters. If any potential invaders of the kingdom don’t get crushed by falling rocks, die by the extreme climate conditions or fall off the mountains, some dragon, wyvern, basilisk or other monster will probably kill them (if they are lucky, the invaders might just get attacked by normal wolves or lions or such beasts). And nobody would want to go through all the trouble just to get their hands on such a terrible land... unless, of course, they have their eyes on all the minerals the land is rich in: copper, gold, silver, iron; stones precious and otherwise.
Ammon isn’t a very populous empire, so in sheer numbers their military could never measure up to other empires such as Sheng or Orion. But rumour has it that one of their Noble Warriors could decimate a whole army alone.
In fact, there is a story told and retold both in the Ammon Empire and in the Vestaria Kingdom, in awe and fear respectively, of one Noble Warrior wiping out the Vestarian army on the way to “deliver a message to the king”, who had said his numerous army could easily take the few hundred Ammon warriors.
Some people think it’s only a legend. Others know better.
It could be said that the gods did not favour Alki. And if there was one thing that was almost more abundant than sand in the Ammon Empire, it was gods. Their Temples were all over the land, the cities, the towns, the desert. And none of those gods seemed to be looking out for that boy, born of a cheap prostitute, an accident, a problem. She wished that he would die, but since he didn’t, she decided to sell him like she sold herself.
Alki was a fierce child.
The first man she sold her son to got his intimate parts almost bitten off, and Alki was taken away by the city guards. The fact that he wasn’t killed on the spot might have been one of the gods favouring him for once.
In the hole he was thrown into to probably wait for death, a man found him. He wasn’t a good man, but he wore dragonhide and was covered in tattoos, a powerful noble warrior although old and retired; a man who had heard what Alki had done to his “first client” and had grown interested. A man who needed something fierce, something that he could forge into a noble warrior like himself – something like Alki.
Alki was beaten, and he was insulted, and he was pushed beyond his limits more often than most grown men could bear. But he was fed, and he was dressed, and he was washed. He grew up stronger, fiercer.
When the old warrior died, Alki was still young, but old enough to claw his way into the military academy, despite being of such low birth and not having anyone to back him up.
Alki was a fierce young man.
He clawed his way to the top like he had clawed his way into the academy. He had more than his share of enemies, not only because of his birth, but also his character: he was as aggressive as he was skilful, as bloodthirsty as he was powerful. All those characteristics, while not appreciated by his colleagues, were rather useful in an empire that thrived on war. They kept Alki alive and strong.
To graduate from apprentice to noble warrior, one must kill a dragon and bring back its hide, which would be used to make their noble warrior’s attire (dragonhide was better than any armour to protect from cuts and blows, and much easier to move in). Usually, an aspiring noble warrior would kill (or at least attempt to) a young green or red dragon to graduate. Some of the more skilled would show off by killing a gold or blue dragon; and rumour had it that the most skilled and arrogant student to ever graduate had killed an adult black dragon just to prove himself.
Alki was fierce, and bloodthirsty, and more than anyone there he had to prove himself, prove that their noble blood didn’t make them better than him. An adult black dragon would not suffice.
There wasn’t a due date to return with the dragonhide for graduating, but usually the students would go into the Baraz mountains and be back in a month or so. Alki disappeared for half a year, and everyone thought he was dead. But what he was looking for was very hard to find.
White dragons aren’t worth the effort. They rarely leave the mountains and feed mostly on beasts and other dragons, so as long as humans don’t step into their territories, they usually won’t attack. And as they prey on other dragons and monsters, clearly they are stronger than them, and therefore harder to kill. All in all, they just aren’t worth the effort.
As the capital of the Ammon Empire, home to the Temple of All Gods, the Imperial Palace and the Noble Warrior Academy, Mahtab was a large city, and very few things had never been seen there. A blood-soaked young man dragging the gigantic corpse of an ancient white dragon through the city streets was one of those things.
Every single piece of a dragon could be sold, and both ancient and white dragons were rare merchandise. And that young man wouldn’t possibly waste the chance to get himself enough money to pay for actually good equipment for once. So he took a detour around the market, selling everything he could except one thing.
Alki dropped what was unmistakably the hide of an ancient white dragon in front of those responsible for officially making him into a noble warrior. The young man was still covered in blood, which would be worrying if it was his blood - but it looked like it was dragon blood, which supposedly made you stronger (if you survived).
“So…” the young man started, gesturing to the pile of silvery-white dragonhide.
The instructors whispered among themselves. “An ancient white dragon. You killed it yourself? Alone?” asked one of them, suspicious.
“Yes.” he answered simply.
“And you expect us to believe it?” another one asked, just as suspicious as the first.
“I certainly couldn’t afford to buy that… or hire mercenaries. Neither do I have friends who would help me kill it.” he shrugged.
“...that is true.” the first instructor replied, while a messenger arrived and whispered something to one of the others.
“There are several reports from people who say they saw him fight the dragon, and drag its corpse all the way from the Baraz mountains. He just sold the rest of the dragon in the market before coming here.” the instructor who had just heard the message reported, and all of them stared at Alki.
He just stared back, arms crossed, expression neutral.
“Take that dragonhide to the tailors. It’s enough for a few spare outfits, and I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic to work with so much of such a rare material.” the director said at last “After that, go wash yourself and get your wrist and ankle tattoos. We’ll be expecting you to start working as soon as you get your first outfit.”
Alki answered with a short bow, taking his dragonhide and walking off. The outfit and tattoos would officially make him a noble warrior. No matter if there was nothing noble about him, he was a skilled warrior and the Empire needed as many of those as they could get. He grinned.
Alki was disposable. He was certainly skilled, and useful, so much that in less than two years he had every piece of skin under his outfit covered in tattoos. But he was still aggressive and difficult to deal with, neither a leader nor a follower. He was something they unleashed at the frontlines, to deal as much damage as possible without dying - although it wouldn’t be such a terrible loss if he did die.
So it wasn’t that much of a surprise that, when the Emperor wanted to send a message to the king of Vestaria, they would send him. He was just as skilled as he was disposable, and that was a rare combination. Still, that mission meant a lot of people to kill, so either Alki would die or get himself a colourful tattoo right over his heart - not on his face, like most people got, on his chest. One outcome was great, the other unlikely. So he set out to Vestaria without hesitation.
The merchant caravan was happy to have a noble warrior with them in the path through the mountains, even if he wasn’t kind, nice or sociable in any way - being safe from monsters was much more important than making friends. And a noble warrior was sure to keep them safe, mainly one wearing white dragonhide.
They made it through the Baraz mountains and through the common trading routes towards Vestaria without a problem - well, they did get attacked by monsters and bandits, but nothing that Alki couldn’t handle easily.
The caravan headed off to Sheng, and Alki continued towards Vestaria (the usual caravan guards could deal with anything outside the Baraz mountains, so it wasn’t really a problem). The young noble warrior approached the border of Vestaria in his usual attire: pants, cape, shoes, bracelets, necklace, not yet possessing any visible tattoos. He was wearing dragonhide and carrying a sword, however, so it was expected that the guards at the border would stop him.
“State your business.” asked one of the two guards stationed at the gates of the first city Alki had to pass through to get to the royal palace in the capital.
“I come with a message to your king, from the Emperor of Ammon.” he stated simply. The guards frowned.
“Wait here, we’ll have to ask our superiors about this.” said one of the guards, pointing his halberd menacingly at Alki.
As if it would actually make a difference.
“That won’t be necessary.” Alki grinned, sharp and menacing.
“What do you-”
The guard never finished that sentence, Alki’s sword had already sliced his head off. Before it even hit the ground, the other guard was also dead, and Alki was cleaning his blade on the fallen guard’s cape, resheathing it and strolling calmly into the city.
And then the bells rang. Good, someone up on the walls had seen him. He licked his lips, baring his fangs. This would be fun.
Guards started pouring from every street around him as he reached the central plaza, circling him as they ushered the people out. Hm, good formation. Maybe Alki should have worn his dragonhide shirt… but the cape and pants should do. All around him, menacing faces (all male, a strange characteristic of the Vestarian military) and positioned halberds.
“Stop, or you will be stopped.” said a man in better armour than the rest, white skin, blue eyes and dirty blond beard. Probably the captain of the guard.
Alki tilted his head at him, smiling amusedly, a smile that never reached his golden eyes. “I have a message to your king, from the Emperor of Ammon.”
“If you have a message, you should have waited. Why did you kill the guards at the gates?” the captain raised his voice again.
Alki grinned, wild. “I have a message to your king, from the Emperor of Ammon.” He slowly unsheathed his sword from the back of his waist, and all the guards tensed the grip on their halberds. Amateurs. A city guard in Ammon could easily take ten or so of these without much of a problem. Alki could take twenty Ammon city guards without breaking a sweat - and the men surrounding him were about thirty in number. This wouldn’t even be a warm up.
“Is that all you can say?” the captain barked back, losing his patience.
Alki just grinned back. “Your men are scared, captain. Rightfully so.” He finished unsheathing his sword, and calmly tested his grip on it. “Someone should run away to tell your king that I’m coming. With a message from the Emperor of Ammon.” He stepped forward.
“Seize him!” the captain’s voice rang, just as the first head flew.
Alki’s silvery-white cape flared and flowed as he moved, like a vengeful spirit weaving through the men that unsuccessfully tried to hit him, to capture him. It was over in a minute, and the Ammon noble warrior wasn’t even breathing hard as he leveled his sword to the throat of the last man alive, scared and unarmed.
“Tell your king that I’m coming with a message from the Emperor of Ammon. Tell him to try and stop me.” He grinned, and the man ran away as fast as he could.
Cleaning his blade on the cape of a nearby corpse, Alki walked away, calmly, in the direction of the Vestarian palace. No one in that city tried to stop him.
Other people did try to stop him - city guards, and soldiers. Every city he passed through en route to the palace had its guards try to stop him, and then be decimated by him easily. Armies of hundreds, and then thousands of men ambushed him on the roads between cities, just to meet the same fate. Rumour had it the Emperor of Ammon had unleashed a demon upon Vestaria - which was just partially correct.
Alki had been wearing his full outfit since the armies (better trained than the city guards, but just enough to be about half as good as the Ammon city guards) started ambushing him. He did think he was going to die a few times, but he had survived worse before. And he always got to rest after he decimated an army, or a city guard, and the king had to send more troops, which took time to get to him… and so he advanced, at his own pace, but unstoppable.
As he approached the royal capital, Alki figured the king would have already given up on trying to stop him - but he was wrong. Before the city gates awaited a few thousand soldiers in formation, with equipment and posture a bit better than those of the ones he had killed before. Hm, that might be a bit annoying.
He took a deep breath, then stretched… and unsheathed his sword. Almost there.
The young Ammon noble warrior that walked calmly into the Vestarian palace’s throne room was red, covered in fresh blood from head to toe, only his eyes shining golden and his sword glinting steel.
“I have come to bring a message to the king of Vestaria, from the Emperor of Ammon.” he announced, in a voice much deeper than expected from a man that young and lean.
“G-guards!” Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, purple tunic, fancy golden crown. Fat and weak and pathetic, the king stuttered, rising from his throne on shaking knees.
The four men, two at each side of the throne, unsheathed their swords. From how they carried themselves and their equipment (which was much better quality than any Alki had seen so far), Alki could tell those were probably elite soldiers. It was a shame they had such a useless king.
They didn’t last more than a few minutes, even against a tired Alki.
“Your Majesty, I have come to bring you a message from my Emperor.” Alki, covered in even more blood, turned to the shivering king, his expression neutral.
“W-what do you want?” the king asked, shivering.
“My Emperor has heard that you say your army of thousands of men could easily take on the few hundred Ammon noble warriors. So he sent me, a single noble warrior, to send you a message. A visible, palpable message. To be very careful of what you say.” Alki smiled, that smile that never reached his wild golden eyes.
“That’s… all? You killed most of my army just for that?” the king asked, incredulous.
Alki grinned, a wild grin that actually matched his eyes. “Yes.”
No one tried to stop him on his way out of the kingdom, and he simply walked away, washed off the blood in a river on the way, and met up again with the caravan he had come out of Ammon with, to accompany them on the way back.
And he became a legend, earning himself a huge colourful tattoo over his heart, for all to see.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. His skin was still dark, still covered in tattoos from neck to toe, but it was wrinkled; and he was small and weak. He had never been small and weak. Damned be whoever cursed him, forced him to hide and cower. He didn’t want to die, mainly not like this. Not this pathetic.
He wasn’t expecting the Emperor to send one of His agents after him, much less that they would know about the curse… and even less that they would offer him the chance to get rid of it. He didn’t trust people, usually, but at that point he was taking any chances. Living like that, weak and pathetic, might be worse than death.
So he climbs with the imperial agent to the highest peak of the Baraz mountains, hating every time he must be protected by her, and sees a single sword embedded into the rock at the very peak: a shining silver blade with a hilt of white dragonhide, made in the traditional curved mold of Ammon swords. Beautiful, and ominous. Perfect.
“What’s that sword?” he asks, voice weak and unreliable like the rest of him now.
“Yakhun Alwad. I trust you’ve heard of it?” the imperial agent replies.
He shakes his head. No.
“The sword of the first Emperor. Legendary.”
“Hm.” A fancy sword, then. But was it useful? “And what does it do?”
“By itself, nothing. But it should rid you of your curse, and grant you the power you so strongly desire.” there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes.
“At what price?” he asks, suspicious.
“The Emperor will charge you nothing… but the sword desires blood, and you will have to feed it. You’ll have to keep killing for as long as you live.” she explains, dramatically.
He stares at the sword, letting out a thoughtful hum. The right choice is pretty obvious, isn’t it?
A small, wrinkled hand reaches out to the hilt of the sword, grabbing it in a way that only someone who has held onto sword hilts their whole life can. A silvery-white light spreads through his tattoos, acknowledging his power, his aggressiveness, his bloodthirst. And then he’s himself again.
Alki stands at the highest peak of the Baraz mountains, staring appreciatively at his new sword, more powerful and more bloodthirsty than ever. He should probably change back into his old dragonhide outfit… and test that new sword. Preferably on whoever had cursed him before.
Alki was a fierce man, with a bloodthirsty sword of power. And he still didn’t know about the unexpected adventure he was about to get mixed up in.
3 notes
·
View notes