Alright, so picture this: somehow juggling a job and two little ones—yeah, one even popped out during the chaos—I ended up crafting this game, The Abandoned Planet, right from a cramped spot in my Florida bedroom. It’s not just a bedroom, by the way. It’s a nursery too, and, well, a mini-office if you squint hard enough. Imagine a Moleskine, with doodled rooms and arrows filling the pages, lying on my tiny desk while my kid—yeah, the toddler—decides my laptop is her playground. What started as a quick, whimsical idea turned into a two and a half-year marathon of coding, drawing, and sound design. Oh, and tossing in a quirky base-7 number system along with an alien alphabet—because why not?
Okay, hold up. Let’s ground this a bit. Every pixel in The Abandoned Planet? Trust me, it’s a labor of love drawn on my Wacom. I lost hours, no, days to pixel-art intricacies and animation. It’s got that old-school charm—think D-Pad navigation with a snappy twist. Imagine roaming an alien world, solving cryptic puzzles, and the sound effects? They linger on you like a weird 90s mixtape for gamers.
Oh, and then there are these epic cutscenes. Okay, maybe not epic—dynamic might be the word? They just pop up, telling the story in snippets that feel just right. And the voiceovers? Eleven languages, no less, with a bit of alien tongue thrown in. Curious about how it all comes together? Well, you’ve got five Acts and more than 300 places to stumble through. It’s like piecing together a jigsaw in a parallel universe full of brain-teasing fun.
Let’s sprinkle a bit of backstory here. The game, a kind of standalone gig, loops into the larger Dexter Stardust saga. More adventures are lurking around the astro-corner. Each puzzle, each symbol links back to my chaotic little workspace. And honestly, keeping that unpredictability was… refreshing? Or maddening? Maybe both.
When you dive into The Abandoned Planet, it’s not just about wandering through ancient alien spots. It’s a shout-out to every indie creator grinding away in a corner of their everyday life. So, if you’re up for a weekend escapade across cosmic puzzles, weird glyphs, and a taste of homemade artistry, this game might just be your ticket.
Anyway, there’s this wild storyline—an astronaut thrown onto a strange planet by a rogue wormhole, desperately trying to piece together where the heck she is and find her way back. It’s like Myst with a sprinkle of LucasArt nostalgia, but, you know, with my own crazy twist. There’s something about pixelated art that feels… I dunno… cozy in this chaotic cosmos of a game.