First day of development
PROMPT: Create a word from scratch. It has to have at least a map themes fantasy or sci-fi.
Game title planned PLANET MOPPER
INTRODUCTION: WORDS ESTIMATED 2,000
WORD ACCOUNT TODAY 414.
1-Presentation of universe and character’s frustration. 414/
2-Show live conditions and hardship to try to make pc desire Solve that
2.a legally
2.b Introduction In illegal aliens smuggling
2.c Sell the hero’s head in the black market
3-Event that causes the incident based upon the previous point choices.
INTRODUCTION page 1
A multitude of people from the entire galaxy are tense, longing in awe for the moment in which the arbitrators declare the beginning of the deathmatch while the light of the five moons shines mysteriously over the huge space stadium made of brilliant diamond and graphene glass.
Everyone but yourself, Guybrush Macporridge. You don’t care about that stupid Murderbowl. A handful of heroes fighting to the death to become gods … nonsense!
You just continue sweeping and scrubbing the infinite diamond crystal of the stadium floating in space, while this damned old suit doesn’t stop rubbing and stinging your parts. If you could only scratch them…
You try to forget the stinky suit, focusing on the scenery. Outer space is darkly beautiful.
This is, without doubt, the only good thing about being a space janitor, being able to observe how every day, the sunlight makes your home planet appear to be floating in the empty black of space and suddenly its light paints the sky in a million colours… So peaceful.
“GUYBRUSH MACPORRIDGE STOP PROCRASTINATING AND GO BACK TO YOUR DAMNED WORK !!” A thunderous voice destroys your tympanum through the speaker of the old and sweaty spacesuit which has a smell that reminds you of a wet dog.
“MURDER THEM !!!” You can hear the roaring yells of a million of fans excited at the idea of ??shedding more and more blood.
You gaze at the infinity and stretch your right hand effortlessly to create a space mop that works through nanobots.
This is your superpower being able to generate cleaning products from nothing. And this is your punishment, cleaning for hundreds of years the place where the true heroes forge and gain the right to create worlds or perish to the delirium of thousands of worlds.
Suddenly a lightning ball of magic fire falls a few inches from your tired feet …
“Another damn hero’s head, boss!” You complain moodily, as you know that it causes a lot of fuss in addition to paperwork, and in an hour a Sponge mop’s marathon begins on the holo television.
“Put it in the trash, he has no hero insurance. And come down at once, your turn is over.” The boss growls as the stingy guy hates that you use the damned third-hand suit.
Save the hero’s head to sell it on the net
Throw it away, but covering the proper paperwork
Pull it down with the rest of the