Thursday, 23 December 2010
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
I was kindly pulled out of Claire's ass today, and was reminded that we have enviro's to do, too. :) here's some inspiration sheets for enviro's. it's pretty general and not overly developed, but this is the direction, ambience, colour and feel-wise.
**** i want to stress that these are photos of derelict british schools/houses because no one seems to be interested in taking pictures of functioning facilities. OUR SCHOOL WON'T BE DERELICT! it will look dusty and old and empty, but it will not be crumbling and abandoned like these places!
Saturday, 11 December 2010
these next ones were shot yesterday, so the pants are outdated:
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Can you tell i am pleased with this? can you?
there's some work left to do on the low-angle of her face, it looks kinda weird from down there, but other than that i gotta say i am finally seeing this 2d design making its rocky transition to 3d, and i am relieved to see it doesn't look bad.
i would love to hear opinions and critiques!
i think this is it for today!
working on Claire's body basemesh in Zbrush. it shall serve as a reference + normal map for the low poly in game model.
the head from the previous post is being modeled separately, so i glued this one on here for size reference. actually, mb it's a bit big, now that i look at it.
soon - clothes!
Saturday, 4 December 2010
Monday, 29 November 2010
Warning: big fat chunks of text!
Claire is 29 and drives a Tube train for a living. And it’s a good living, too. But the job suits her for more reasons than the money: Claire doesn’t like people. She spends her day in the cockpit, alone with the darkness of the tube tunnels and the lights zooming past her. By the time she gets home it’s dark. Tube drivers only work 4 days of the week, and Claire spends her 3 free days arguing online, watching television, eating fast food.
Claire likes to think of herself as an “owl”, but does so ironically, because it’s a simplistic self-definition cliché that appeals to simplistic minds. But she thinks better at night, and she hates going out in the daytime – with all the people and the noise of downtown.
And so her life is permeated with the glow of artificial light, so much so that it continues to haunt her in her dreams.
And it’s her dreams that we will be focusing on in the game itself, but right now I would like to explore her distant and perhaps slightly irrelevant past a bit more.
Claire’s dad was a Tube driver. She knows that she would never have gotten past the interviews without some strings being pulled. She doesn’t really mind. The work is good and dull, she’s left alone most of the time, and her parents are calmer knowing that their awkward daughter is settled in a cozy position for life. This makes them call her less, and for that she is grateful.
Claire grew up in the suburbs a strange ginger child with hollow, staring eyes. She was never very popular with anyone, her own family included, and for a long time that hurt her. Around age 11 she began to realize that she was fine like this.
That defining moment was when she was walking home from school one evening, sipping on a can of soda with a green straw. She took the side streets because it was cold and she’d lost her coat again in school. She knew her mother would be upset about the coat. Her mother was a woman who liked worrying about objects.
As Claire was walking past a small ally between two townhouses she heard a muffled shout and the sounds of struggle. In the shadows, she could see a man wrestling a young woman who was resisting vigorously. Claire stopped and stared at the strange scene, her soda pop forgotten. The man unzipped his pants and hitched the woman’s flowery dress up and she was crying. Claire absently thought that she’d seen such things in movies, and at this point exactly she – the onlooker – was supposed to drop her can, or make some kind of involuntary sound, and the attacker would be distracted long enough to allow the girl to get away. She proceeded to stand there and stare, and thought, “which one of mum’s shows was this on?” , and then thought, “That’s a stupid thing to think right now”. The woman wasn’t making any sounds anymore, except a pained quiet sigh every time the man snapped his arse forward. Claire found herself cringing every time, and then it hit her that she could hear her own heart beating like mad, and she couldn’t breathe proper, and she finally turned and ran away.
The defining moment was when she’d stopped running, right outside her house. Her heart was still beating and her lungs were hurting and she felt so many things – and as she opened the gate and walked towards the door, she realized she will not tell about this to anyone. There was no one whose reaction would soothe her. Her mother’s hugs never did much for her, and they won’t now either.
And that was when she reached the final point: she’d been confused and scared before, and they’d tried to help, and never managed to come up with something that did. And still she was alright. She didn’t need to be helped to be alright.
Currently, Claire doesn’t think about her childhood much. She thinks about philosophy and politics on various forums and blogs. She loves proving the anonymous of the internet wrong. She is so good at facing them off in writing. Back in uni she tried to get into the debate club, but after 2 rounds of uncontrollable heartrate and muddled thoughts she’d felt like she’d embarrassed herself enough and left. Not long afterwards she dropped out of uni altogether. That was the point when her dad interfered, probably spurred by mum.
Claire grudgingly admits that this had been a good thing. She had since settled into a convenient, safe routine of working, arguing online, eating takeaway and keeping a safe distance from other people.
When she gets lonely she calls up lesbo Liz from work and they have a beer. Claire conceitedly thinks that Liz is attracted to her, and gloats to herself whenever in Liz’s presence. In truth, Claire reminds Liz of her brother, who has Asperger Syndrome, and she kind of pities Claire a bit and takes pride in her ability to connect with her.
Claire had gone out with a boy once, in highschool, and even slept with him a few times. He was a big Nietzsche fan, all about the selfish nihilism and transcending the humanity within, and he’d beat her at debates.
She has not been eager to repeat the experience since then.
Claire has thick ginger curls and a bad complexion, skinny legs and saggy little boobs. During the last several years, becoming more and more at ease in her safe solitude, she has finally dared sport the bad posture she’s always secretly had, and has developed a tendency to slouch.
She secretly likes the way she looks.
School dream, from Claire's journal:
Dream # 516 04.20.10
Morning, 05:02, dank kitchenette
As usual it starts with the tunnels, me in the train and the service lights flashing by like a heartbeat. I remember the rhythm. It’s very dominant… vvvVVVVVOOOOOOOooosssshhhhhh… vvvVVVVVOOOOOOOooosssshhhhhh… I feel like I can hear them wooshing closer and then away from me. Then they start blinding and disorienting me and dancing around like it’s all spinning around me. I feel like I’m falling down instead of driving forward. Like it’s a deep hole in the ground and I’m plummeting straight down there on the railtrack, with the full weight of the train at my back. As I think this, about the weight of the train, I can feel it, like I’m a train myself, and I’m heavy, I’m all these tons of metal, and I am filled with a terrible dread, the knowledge that I am going to crash down and all these tons at my back are going to drive me like a lance into the ground. The lights are zooming by faster and faster the whole time and I can’t do anything, there’s nothing I can do. This feeling takes over me completely, it’s all I can feel. I’m falling so fast that my chest hurts, all my insides are stuck to my spine and I feel like I’m slowly trying to push the scream out of my lugs that’s been boiling there for so long – it all hurts so much – I have to scream. This is when I become conscious. The scream half wakes me and I realize this is a dream, I force myself to breathe and to calm down. I remind myself that I am not a train. That this dark tunnel is not going down. Slowly the train resumes going forth.
A green corridor with peeling shiny paint on the walls. It’s a sickly summery twilight outside and no one should be here and I shouldn’t be here either. The light is heavy, a tired sun sinking down a tired sky. There are posters of birds and animals on the walls and doors in between. I am looking up from way down close to the floor – I can see the corridor going on and on. Rows of hooks next to the doors insinuate children’s coats, not there right now. Everything feels runny, like it’s all slowly sliding down this green wall and onto the floor. Like a fainting child; with the wet squeak of a sweaty little palm. Ah. I feel heavy and slow. I slowly slide down this hallway. The windows are barred and the clouds outside are smeary. There is a great weight on me and I can hardly move. I ache to run but there is no room for such energy here. I turn around, maybe I hear something, children. I think I hear the bell and my heart hitches into my throat. I don’t think there’s any actual sounds here.
There’s something in my hand. I look down. It’s a can of soda with a green straw. My aunt said redheads should have everything green. I remember picking out this straw because of this. I need to take my coat from the hook but it’s not there. I need to get it because if I lose another coat mum would be angry. I have to find the coat or I will never get out of here.
I will never get anything done with this light on. It’s heavy and slowing me down and I know, I just know, if I close these windows and shut it out, I will be able to move. But I know that in the dark I will see completely different things. I dare not close the blinds. I sink down this shiny wall to the floor. I try to breathe. I will never get out of here.
The idea is that the D-Claire avatar would symbolize her disgust and fear of her emotions and herself in general. Seeing as the game centres around Claire's repression and denial of a traumatic event in her life, this transformation occurs on the first time that she glimpses a hard, straightforward image of the rape - when she turns the light off in the school hallway and an innocent poster on the wall turns into an image of the event. She doubles over and starts puking this black goo stuff until she collapses. when she gets up again she is covered in that stuff and where it touches her it singes her clothes and hair off. think about what it feels like to actually throw up, like after a hangover (my only experience of puking) - the feeling that you don't control your own body, knees shaking, eyes tearing, the general weakness and fear that comes from your body acting up on you - this is what we want to convey in this image, and it will manifest in the way she moves and reacts to things.
Saturday, 6 November 2010
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Monday, 13 September 2010
Let me first introduce you to the basic gameplay.
The hero - Claire (working name) is a lucid dreamer. Her dreams are governed by light and darkness - Claire perceives the light to be a symbol of her consciousness and control, while the dark is less controlled areas where she is more suceptible to her subconscious emotions.
The character's abilities are affected by the light condition - in the light she doesn't jump or run, but she can interact with objects and break glass and wood surfaces. In the dark "mode" she can jump very high and run fast, but cannot interact with objects.
Claire uses a red LEVER to switch the lights on and off in certain areas where "Light Slots" are available.
The first level
player enters level, sees a dark tunnel ahead and automatically goes there. upon closer inspection, the player realizes he can't go in (we haeven't decided on the nature of the obstacle yet) and looks around a bit more. sees the Service Tunnel to the right and goes in. it is lit. at the end of the tunnel the player sees a panel with a bright red lever and being curious and clever goes to inspect it. the player then learns he can interact with this lever. so he does. the character pulls it out of the panel and - me oh my - the light goes out!
in the dark - the tunnel changes - as does the character.
the player learns that the dark avatar allows him to jump and run - unlike the light avatar, which limited him to walking fast.
with the lever in hand, the player jumps his way out of the creepy dark tunnel and goes back out into the main hall, where he sees a similar panel to the one where he found the lever. at this point he's supposed to put two and two together and stick the lever in it to light up the main tunnel - at which point it changes form and the obstacle is removed, allowing him to exit to the next level.
and here's all this in video form:
Sunday, 29 August 2010
"Lucid" is our graduation project – a short video game to be executed using the UDK (Unreal 3 engine) platform.
It is a puzzle-adventure game that relies on light and darkness as the base of its gameplay mechanics and core design.
The game takes place entirely in the subconscious of the heroine: a repressed, anti-social redhead. Our heroine, plagued by the darkness in her dreams, trains herself to lucid dreaming. But an exercise in logic and restraint quickly turns into a battle against her own mind.
A few character sketches for our heroine. orange and ultramarine - ftw!
Since (hopefully) not only our friends will be visiting this blog, a short introduction is in order.
We are a pair of 3D animation students from Bezalel Academy, Israel.
Meet the team:
· Mash, (myself, aka Happy Satan) – animator, organic modeler and concept artist.
· Shauli – all-purpose modeler, shader/texturer and level designer.
· A programmer – whom we haven’t found yet. We are looking for a talented programmer, preferably with experience using the UDK platform. If you know anyone who can commit to this kind of project, please let us know/have them contact us!