Kickstarter

We are launching our Kickstarter campaign for Blue Heaven in May 9th! In the meantime you can help us by subscribing to our Thunderclap event. You just have to log in with either your Facebook or Twitter account. Then, when the event occurs a tuit or post will be published automatically in all your timelines at the same time, announcing our Kickstarter campaign.

Thanks in advance!

https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/56012-blue-heaven-on-kickstarter

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V1CT0R

He doesn’t believe in God. He doesn’t believe in the State. He doesn’t believe in anybody. His own code and his manhood stay over all. He doesn’t kill for pleasure but doesn’t hesitate to gut his neighbor for a modest amount of money either.

People think that what makes him fearsome in combat isn’t his skill with the sword but his unsparing rage that devours his enemies like a firestorm.

v1ct0r-face v1ct0rconceptart

From the kitchen to the table

We love to be transparent and to share with all of you as much content as we can, taking into account the short time we can dedicate to write here. Of course, there’re limits: we’ve to keep some characters, songs, scenarios and plot twists secret in order to surprise you during the game. But let’s focus on what we can show. In this post, we talk about the character animation process.

Video recording

The first step is, obviously, filming a human model. In the video above you can see a female model walking forward and swinging her hips on a treadmill, wearing high heels. This movement is captured by 8 cameras at the same time, placed around the center of the film set. They can’t be turned on and off as we start or end a movement so we record all the movements we can one after the other; afterwards, we synchronize and split all the videos in the editor at home. Although we use many tricks to center and orientate the camera as correctly as we can before recording, it’s always necessary to process the videos, rotating them as needed. Even during the next stage, the artist has to move the frames to counteract camera vibrations or oscillations (remember that cameras are set outdoors on a 3 meters high support).

Rotoscopying and pixelating

Once we have 8 corrected raw videos for a movement, the artist selects a set of key frames and draws a kind of “colored template” on them using GraphicsGale editor. This template will be useful later on to animate any character with a similar constitution; the colors make easy to differentiate extremities when they overlap each other. This is a complex operation, the artist has to choose which pixels to include in the final draw and which not; in such small sizes, 1 pixel can change the aspect of the character completely. Besides, the artist includes 2 levels of shading, one main color for each part of the body and a darker tone of that color for the internal shadowing. This way, he doesn’t have to think about shadowing every time he animates a new character that uses the template.

Drawing characters

The final step is the funniest. Using the template and a concept or draft of the character as a reference, the artist can now paint the real pixels of the final animation, customizing every part of the body and giving the character her own personality, including all the details needed (simplified, of course, otherwise creating these animations would be even more expensive of what they already are).

You can see the results here:
Monicam0n1c4andandoperfil2m0n1c4andandofrentedescartado2

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: The animation on the right has been discarded, the movement has to be recorded again because we didn’t realized it was too exaggerated.

If you have any questions just write a comment below or ask us on Twitter!

Letter to F4B14N II

Terracon Inc. State Printing center
At The Source, May the 25th 221st year a.F.
Content auditted and approved by civil servant: ID 4475 7368 6261 67
Content author: EXT S4MU3L 4M1D4S

Hi F4B14N.

I am beginning to worry about your health, I have not received any response from your side since the last week. It would be naïve of me to assume that my letters are arriving to your hands. Sometimes I forget that I am in this sty and that the delivery could suffer some delay. Living here is being a… let’s call it revealing experience. It is true what some people say, there is nothing like leaving your homeland to value it.

I finally had a meeting with the city governor two days ago, a guy named R1P10. The talk was really uncomfortable during the hour he granted me, in many ways. The guy suffered from some kind of muscular disease or malformation which prevents him from walking without help; all his articulations are twisted, like in constant tension, and he needs his 2 slaves to remain standing. I wonder how somebody like him was able to reach such social position, I suspect there is some kind of kinship with the governing class. But his unpredictable spasms and the continuous assistance his slaves dedicated to him were not the reasons of my restlessness (although I needed God’s help to keep looking into his eyes when some bits of spittle came out of his mouth), it was not because of his exterior but because of his interior. If he looked like a twisted root on the outside, inside he was like a sea urchin: dark, harmful, poisonous and insignificant at the same time. How could such a dependent person develop that sadistic personality? I lost count of how many times he punished his slaves in front of me after the ninth or the tenth time, all of them due to ridiculous reasons such as not bringing the cup of peppermint infusion closer to his lips when he was thirsty, without having expressed such need verbally at any time. You have to be wondering how did he punished them if he could barely control his own body; he ordered them to stab a short punch in the other’s ribs, depending on whose turn was it to receive. And it was not enough to hear the punished’s grunts of pain, he had to watch it, they had to do it in front of him. The way he talked, even to me, was authoritarian and contemptuous, always looking down on me like if he lived in a constant revenge against every life form. However, that irritating tone changed suddenly when he received a call by a wireless telephone that one of the slaves quickly brought closer to his ear. I deduced it was an ex-president from his words, one of those who belong to the triumvirate that appears on the local currency, whom the governor seemed to fear and to respect as if he was God. I would lie if I said I did not find this change of attitude repulsive; all that guy needed was to brush the ground with his expensive clothes while he talked, nodding continuously, apologizing for some bad decisions he made as he was always pampering him. He was so cloying that I heard how his lord shut him up with a shout, making one of his never-ending adulation bursts stop instantly. I looked at the faces of the slaves with the aim of transmitting them my sympathy, but they avoided my eyes; I guess they already got a stab for something similar in the past.

I left the place at a fast pace, shaking off like if I emerged from the snow, once that absurd person granted me permission to enter the Subdistricts and evaluate the structure. I really needed to get rid of the nasty taste in my mouth so I visited one of the beautiful churches they conserve (their facades are in a very good state, in contrast to all the buildings that were close to). There I prayed for some minutes along with a priest and I went directly to a brothel. The services they offer here are very basic compared to the Diamond Powder, there are small rooms only, but the bitches are cheaper and more creative. Have you ever been masturbated with two cunts at the same time, scissoring? I did not know that something like that was even possible.

Once I restored my spirit and after drinking a pair of “poitins” (a liquor they distil in this zone), I walked back to my guesthouse with the intention of sleeping. I stopped first in a food house, a kind of stand the State uses for rationing the available foodstuff, assigning daily quotas to the inhabitants. The ration cost the double of money because I do not have the barcode they use to tattoo on the newborns. I am not sure the state law says that, surely they take it as a bribery included in the price for us, the stupid foreigners. Soup of beans in a wet cardboard box fully covered with adhesive tape, there was nothing better. I forgot about my cutlery too, so I had to use my right hand as spoon. When I arrived to the guesthouse, I surprised a boy trying to force the lock of my apartment. What a service of surveillance! I hit him with a stone from a long distance and he ran away. I have to get a local license to buy a gun.

Yesterday I entered the Subdistricts for the first time and what I saw there was shocking, I would have never imagined that. I will tell you more details in my next letter.

I am looking forward to getting news about you. Give P4TR1C14 my regards and tell her I miss her. And for God’s sake, burn this paper.

End of the printing – Page 1/1

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Carta a F4B14N II

Centro de impresión del Estado de Terracon Inc.
En La Fuente, a 25 de Mayo del 221º año d.F.
Contenido auditado y aprobado por el funcionario: ID 4361 7261 6E63 686F 61
Autor del contenido: EXT S4MU3L 4M1D4S

Hola F4B14N.

Empiezo a preocuparme por tu salud, no he recibido ninguna respuesta por tu parte desde la semana pasada. También es cierto que asumir que mis cartas estén llegando a tus manos podría hacerme pecar de ingenuo. Imaginaré que no estoy en esta pocilga y que ha habido un ligero retraso en la entrega. Vivir aquí está siendo una experiencia… llamémosla reveladora. Es verdad lo que dicen de que no hay nada como abandonar tu patria para valorarla.

Hace dos días me reuní por fin con el gobernador de la ciudad, un tal R1P10. La conversación fue realmente incómoda durante la hora que me concedió, en varios sentidos. El tipo padece alguna clase de enfermedad muscular o deformidad que le impide caminar por sí mismo; tiene todas las articulaciones torcidas, como en tensión constante, y requiere de sus 2 esclavos para mantener el equilibrio. Desconozco cómo alguien así ha podido llegar a ese puesto, intuyo algún tipo de parentesco familiar con la clase gobernante. Pero no eran sus espasmos impredecibles y las constantes atenciones que los esclavos le dedicaban lo que me inquietaba (si bien para aguantarle la mirada cuando se le salía algo de baba por un lado de la boca necesitaba Dios y ayuda), no era tanto su exterior como su interior. Si por fuera era como una raíz retorcida, por dentro era como un erizo de mar: oscuro, dañino, venenoso y a la vez insignificante. ¿Cómo una persona tan dependiente podía desarrollar una personalidad tan sádica? Perdí la cuenta de las veces que castigó a sus esclavos delante de mí cuando ya iba por la novena o la décima, por motivos ridículos como no acercarle la taza de infusión de yerbabuena a los labios cuando tenía sed, sin haber manifestado esa necesidad verbalmente en ningún momento. Seguramente te preguntarás cómo los castigaba si apenas podía controlar su cuerpo; les daba órdenes a los 2 hombres para que clavasen un punzón muy pequeño en las costillas del otro, según a quién le tocase recibir. Y no valía con escuchar el gruñido de dolor del sancionado, tenía que verlo, tenían que hacerlo enfrente de él. Su forma de hablar, incluso conmigo, era autoritaria y despectiva, como si viviese en una venganza constante contra toda forma de vida. Sin embargo, este irritante tono cambió de súbito cuando recibió una llamada por un teléfono inalámbrico que uno de los esclavos le acercó rápidamente a la oreja. Por sus palabras supe que era un ex-presidente, uno de los que pertenece al triunvirato que aparece en la moneda local, al que el gobernador parecía temer y respetar como si de Dios mismo se tratara. Mentiría si dijera que aquel cambio de actitud no me pareció vomitivo; al gobernador le faltó arrastrar sus caros ropajes por el suelo mientras hablaba asintiendo continuamente, disculpándose por alguna mala decisión, alabando las cualidades de su señor. Hasta tal punto empalagaba que llegué a oír cómo le mandaban callar de un grito, parando en seco una de sus ráfagas de adulaciones interminables. Miré a los esclavos a la cara para transmitirles mi compasión, pero rehuían la mirada; supongo que ya se habrían ganado una punzada por algo parecido en otra ocasión.

Salí de allí a paso ligero, sacudiéndome como quien emerge de la nieve, una vez que ese absurdo personajillo me concedió el permiso para entrar a los Subdistritos a evaluar la estructura. Necesitaba a toda costa quitarme el mal sabor de boca así que visité una de las hermosas iglesias que conservan (en muy buen estado, sus fachadas contrastan enormemente con las de los edificios adyacentes). Allí recé junto a un sacerdote durante unos minutos y me fui directo a un burdel. Los servicios que aquí prestan son muy básicos comparado con el Polvo de Diamantes, sólo hay habitaciones pequeñas, pero las putas son más baratas y más creativas. ¿Te han masturbado alguna vez con dos coños al mismo tiempo, haciendo la tijera? Ni sabía que algo así se podía hacer.

Con el ánimo renovado y un par de “poitines” en el cuerpo (un licor de patata que destilan en esta zona), me dirigí de vuelta a mi hostal con la intención de dormir. Pasé, de camino, por una casa de comidas, una especie de casetas mediante las cuales el Estado raciona el alimento disponible, otorgando cuotas diarias a los habitantes. La ración me costó el doble de dinero por no llevar el código de barras que aquí acostumbran a tatuar a los recién nacidos. No estoy seguro de que la norma estatal sea así, seguramente lo toman como un soborno incluido en el precio para los idiotas que venimos de fuera. Sopa de judías en un recipiente de cartón húmedo recubierto completamente de cinta adhesiva, no había nada mejor. También olvidé traer mis cubiertos, así que tuve que usar mi mano derecha como cuchara. Cuando llegué al hostal, sorprendí a un crío intentando forzar la cerradura de mi apartamento. ¡Menuda vigilancia! Le asesté una pedrada desde lejos y salió corriendo. Tengo que conseguir una licencia local para comprar una pistola.

Ayer entré en los Subdistritos por primera vez y lo que vi fue bastante chocante, nunca me lo hubiera imaginado. Ya te daré más detalles en mi próxima misiva.

Espero noticias tuyas. Dale recuerdos a P4TR1C14 y dile que la echo de menos. Y por el amor de Dios, quema este papel.

Fin de la impresión – Página 1/1

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Carta a F4B14N

Centro de impresión del Estado de Terracon Inc.
En La Fuente, a 18 de Mayo del 221º año d.F.
Contenido auditado y aprobado por el funcionario: ID 6665 6C61 6369 6f6E
Autor del contenido: EXT S4MU3L 4M1D4S

Hola F4B14N.

Espero que te encuentres mejor de tus migrañas. Supongo que P4TR1C14 ya te ha contado lo de mi periplo en tren. Vaya infierno. Aunque supongo que siempre es mejor y más barato que una de esas caravanas eléctricas. No creas que la situación mejoró al bajar del tren. Mi nariz, que ya se había acostumbrado a la peste del interior del vagón, se llevó otro sobresalto al inhalar el aire turbio proveniente de las factorías cercanas. Afortunadamente esa nube hedionda es menos espesa a medida que uno se desplaza al Sur de la ciudad.

Cuando llegué estaba anocheciendo pero al abandonar la estación pareció como si la noche cayera de súbito. Los inmensos edificios proyectaban sus infinitas sombras sobre el asfalto, impidiendo que ni el más esquivo rayo de luz se colase entre ellos. Resulta paradójico que, siendo este el Distrito del Reactor, donde efectivamente tienen el reactor de unbihexio y el extractor que tengo que visitar, dispongan de tan poca iluminación a lo largo de las avenidas. El ambiente es algo opresivo y hostil. Hay personas tiradas en la calle, cubiertas de mugre, bebiendo o pinchándose a la vista de todos. Algunos callejones son directamente usados como meaderos, y hasta excrementos he visto. Casi me caigo de bruces al tropezarme con un muerto debido a la poca luz. Es otro mundo, nada que ver con nuestro hogar. En su favor tengo que decir que la gente no parece deprimida en general, más bien todo lo contrario; de alguna manera han desarrollado una habilidad innata para transformar su inmundicia en su fortaleza. Esto puede verse incluso antes de entrar en la ciudad: sus murallas no son de acero y roca, ¡son ruinas! ¡Usan edificios enteros, demolidos en la dirección apropiada, como defensa! ¿Puedes creerlo?

Anduve un buen rato en busca de un hostal hasta que llegué a una especie de bulevar plagado de bares, tiendas y burdeles. Daba la sensación de que todas las luces que no habían usado en el resto de calles las hubieran reunido en aquella. Estaba lleno de gente celebrando y bebiendo. Mi curiosidad venció a mi prudencia y me acerqué a uno de esos bares, que tenía un neón verde curvo sobre la puerta de hierro, como imitando a una serpiente. Parece que aquí no es costumbre poner nombre a los locales. Lo que encontré dentro fue un poco grotesco: había un hombre joven sentado sobre una mesa, al parecer un esclavo, al que un grupo de hombres más mayores forzaban a mirar hacia arriba, con un embudo en la boca en el que vertían bebidas de todo tipo; por lo visto la gracia estaba en apostar cuánto aguantaría el joven antes de vomitar, aunque también había apuestas sobre si se quedaría en coma o si moriría. Así, iban por turnos preparando cócteles que pagaban de su bolsillo, incluido el dueño del pobre hombre; jaleados, cómo no, por el propietario del bar. Por si tienes curiosidad, acabó ganando un tipo tuerto y casi sin dientes, cuando el muchacho expulsó hasta los jugos gástricos como si fuese una fuente. Hasta tuve que limpiarme las botas de las salpicaduras, y eso que yo estaba apoyado en la barra.

Cuando se les acabó la diversión empezaron a discutir y yo ya me había cansado de las insistentes preguntas que me hacía el camarero acerca de mi origen, así que salí de allí con rapidez antes de que desenvainaran. Idiota de mí, no me he traído el sable que me regalaste, así que mejor evitar estas cosas. Al oír la disputa, entraron unos hombres bien fornidos, de aspecto desaliñado aunque muy bien armados, que según supe luego son la autoridad aquí, una especie de mercenarios a sueldo del gobierno.

En mi conversación con el camarero pude averiguar cómo funciona el negocio del alojamiento en estos lares. Al parecer, la mayoría de los edificios no tienen propietario, están vacíos, y la gente los ocupa según les conviene. El hombre fue muy claro: si eres capaz de defenderte solo, elige el piso que más te guste; si no, paga tu seguridad en uno de los edificios vigilados. Obviamente decidí pagar, bastante aventura había tenido hasta el momento, y ciertamente me ha ido muy bien allí a pesar de los gritos de los vecinos. Le di un extra al vigilante para que me consiguiera otro colchón para ponerlo sobre el que ya tenía y así estar algo más separado del suelo.

Tengo que dejarte por ahora, tengo mucho trabajo por delante, ya te contaré mi visita a los burdeles (ni una palabra a P4TR1C14). Y no te preocupes por tu encargo, ya he mirado precios y las dosis de 10 miligramos son mucho más baratas que allí, tal y como dijiste.

Un saludo y que te mejores con la ayuda de Dios.

Fin de la impresión – Página 1/1

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Letter to F4B14N

Terracon Inc. State Printing center
At The Source, May the 18th 221st year a.F.
Content auditted and approved by civil servant: ID 626C 6F77 6A6F 62
Content author: EXT S4MU3L 4M1D4S

Hi F4B14N.

I hope you have recovered from your migraines. I suppose that P4TR1C14 told you about my journey by train, what a hell! Although I guess it is better and cheaper than one of those electric caravans. Do not think that the situation got better after leaving the train. My nose, which had already got used to the stench in the interior of the coach, got shocked when I inhaled the turbid air coming from the near factories. Fortunately that stinky billow is less thick as one moves to the South of the city.

The day was getting dark when I arrived but, when I left the station, it was like if the night fell suddenly, the huge buildings projected their infinite shadows on the asphalt, preventing even the most elusive ray of light from seeping among them. It turns out paradoxical that, being it the Reactor District where, indeed, there is an unbihexium reactor and the extractor which I have to visit, they have so few lights throughout the avenues. The environment was a bit oppressive and hostile, there are people laying down on the streets, covered with grime, drinking or injecting themselves in view of everybody. Some alleys are used as pissers, and I have seen even excrements. I almost fall down when I stumbled over a corpse, due to the lack of light. It is another world, nothing to do with our home. In their favor I have to say that the people do not look depressed in general but the opposite. Somehow they have developed an innate skill to transform their filth into their strength. This can even be observed before entering the city: their border walls are neither made of steel nor rock, they are ruins! They use entire buildings, demolished in the right direction, as a defense! Can you believe it?

I walked for a while searching for an inn until I stumbled upon some kind of boulevard full of bars, shops and brothels. It was like if all the lights they did not use in the rest of streets had been put in that one. There were a lot of people celebrating and drinking. My curiosity defeated my prudence and I entered one of those bars, which had a green neon above the iron door, imitating a snake. It seems that writing the name of the stores is not a habit here. What I found inside was a bit grotesque: there was a young man sat on a table, apparently a slave, to whom a group of men was forcing to look upside, with a funnel in the mouth in which they spilled drinks of all kind; as far as I deduced, the fun was in betting how long was the young going to support that before puking, although there were bets about whether he was to be in coma or was going to die. So, they were preparing cocktails in turns, paid by themselves, including the owner of the poor man, cheered on, of course, by the holder of the bar. In case you are curious, a one-eyed man with almost no teeth won, when the young man threw out even his gastric acids like if he was a fountain. I even had to clean some spatters in my boots, and I was standing on the bar.

When the fun was over they began to argue and I, tired of the insistent questions of the waiter bout my origin, left that place quickly before they drew their swords. Idiot of me, I did not bring the saber you gifted me, so I better avoid these situations. Some well-built men, with a scruffy appearance but very armed, entered when they heard the dispute. I only knew later that they are the authority here, a kind of mercenaries salaried by the government.

During my conversation with the waiter I could figure out how the lodging business works in this place. Apparently, the majority of the buildings are empty, they have no owner, and people occupy them as they wish. The man was very clear: if you can defend yourself, just choose the flat you like the most; otherwise, pay for your security in one of the guarded buildings. Obviously I preferred to pay, I had had enough adventures so far, and certainly I have been doing well there despite the shouts of the neighbors. I gave the guard an extra for him to get another mattress for me to put it over the other I already had so I was farther from the floor.

I have to leave you now, I have so much work to do, I will tell you how was my visit to the brothels (not even a word to P4TR1C14). And do not worry about your order, I have already compared prices and the 10 milligrams doses are much cheaper than there, as you said.

Regards and get better with the help of God.

End of the printing – Page 1/1

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