Shut up, I’m excited. And instead of making you hear about it every day for the whole month, I have devised a clever system so you will only hear about it five times. I am a magnanimous blogger who understands that you don’t actually care about my silly project, which is basically a composite of the granny videogames I like to play.
For those of you who don’t play hidden object games, the kind with plots almost all revolve around a missing person who you must track down, either because you love them or you’re being paid. There are complex, ridiculous locks on doors, trunks, graves–you name it, some wacko put a lock on it. Most of them don’t even use keys; they use math and/or logic problems, memory games, etc. Here’s one of my favorites that uses three keys, from Nightmares of the Deep: The Cursed Heart.
Artifex Mundi made "Nightmares of the Deep: The Cursed Heart," and here's a typical (gorgeously rendered!) lock from the game.
This story was born when I asked myself the question: What elements could steer a society into actually developing these frivolous locks? Any one of them could be knocked off with a sledgehammer, so it would need to be fashion rather than function–perhaps a cultural institution that began as a necessity and turned into a matter of etiquette. Once the locks kept us safe from monsters…but now they’re a luxury toy for wealthy adults. After all, there’s no more monsters, right?
I nabbed the house, the night sky, the dresses, and the movie wolf from Google Images; hopefully no one sues me. All three people faces are mine; hopefully I won't sue me either.
PERILS OF THE PAST: The Secrets of Bonegarden
(Yes, my goofy title is an homage to the games, as well. They all are Something Preposition/Article Something: The Something Something.)
To avoid working for her shady family, Ermine uses her thief skills to test products for a brilliant young locksmith named Cazh. When he disappears–without paying her for her last job, which was breaking through locks he put on her bedroom door without her permission–she decides to get in touch with her roots and track him down for some good ol’-fashioned, possibly violent debt-collecting.
One of Cazh’s friends, a circus performer named Peach, is worried because she knows exactly where he went. She insists on accompanying Ermine as they track Cazh to one of the many mansions that were abandoned when the plague of monsters ended over a century ago. The nobility spent years hiding from the threat, living in fabulous opulence behind concentric rings of locked gates and walls. Now, it’s a deadly wasteland of rampant vines, broken glass, and rotting architecture. Worst of all is the ominous evidence that something large and carnivorous inhabits the labyrinthine estate.
Low on food, fatigued, and injured, they finally find a cryptic message from Cazh inscribed on one of the locks… just before they’re attacked by a monster right out of history books. They make a narrow escape, but there’s no place to hide for long. As they flee deeper into the estate, leaving improvised traps in their wake, Ermine and Peach must figure out how to save themselves—and whether or not they still want to rescue the boy who gazes down at them from the safety of the tallest tower.
You heard tell of a clever system for only posting about NaNoWriMo five times! If you are brave and click for more, you’ll be rewarded with extra pictures.( Read the rest of this entry »Collapse )
Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.