Sure, let’s dive into this mess of mine. So, I’m not sure why I thought it’d be a good idea to juggle a full-time gig and parenting two tiny humans while building this game. Anyway, my so-called office—if you wanna call it that—is in a cramped Florida bedroom. Picture this: an itty-bitty desk drowning in a sea of toys and chaos, and somehow, I’ve squished in a Moleskine notebook with sketches of alien worlds. My toddler? Yeah, thought he was helpful, crawling all over my laptop while I worked. This “one-year project” of mine? It laughed in my face and stretched to two and a half years. Solo dev grind—coding, animating, you name it, I did it. Even dreamed up some funky base-7 numeral system. No idea why, but hey, it stuck.
Alright, every single pixel on The Abandoned Planet? I hand-drew those with my trusty Wacom. Spent countless nights pouring over each teeny detail, frame-by-frame animations, you know the drill. Movement’s got this old-school vibe—think four-way navigation—but I added some snappy twist to keep it fresh. You wander through this strange realm, cracking codes and collecting odd knick-knacks. It’s like those 90s games, but with a modern spin. Did I mention eerie soundscapes? Yeah, those too.
Oh, and the art? Super retro meets slick modern UI—you get it. Gameplay? Quick and nimble. There’s something oddly thrilling about clicking around, awakening ancient totems or just trying not to get lost. Five Acts, more than 300 areas. Yeah, you’ll be busy. Short animated cutscenes pop in now and then, just enough to add some drama without fluff.
Let’s not forget the voices—11 languages! And, believe it or not, in this alien tongue I, for some reason, whipped up. Why? I’ve stopped questioning myself.
This standalone piece somehow weaves into this whole Dexter Stardust saga. It’s half exploration, half celebration of those quirky solo-developer joys. All those twists and crazy scribbles? Born in my nursery-office pandemonium. Wanna escape somewhere wild for the weekend? Take The Abandoned Planet for a spin. Trust me—it’s a trip.
