Author: xrafstar

Cunt Toward Enemy[2]: This Violates the Geneva Conventions

Written

Lazur looks around the gaming hall, mentally diagramming the exits, the best place to store a bomb if you wanted to blow out the supports of the building. He’s in Semi Nova for a wargaming convention, south of the equator, the air feels different, and this is the closest he can get to taking a vacation because he still gets to gnaw on the problem via cardboard simulation, mass destruction methadone.

His little cousin is here, playing toyetic card games at the kid’s area, by a mural of Crash Bandicoot and Vegeta. Half his family is Semi Novan, from the Lechian migration to the Creciente Fértil region. He spent the morning with them, guilty at each touch, like he was involving them in something too ugly to comprehend. A physical taint, a contagious violence, or just a crippling paranoia.

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agent of innocent: maggot therapy

Written

art by Evan, writing/design by me
game we’re working on about boys and maggots

this is the other Perfect Tense game, it’s fun seeing different interpretations of the same character and world

both artists work with paper, which is pretty unusual with games

it’s a short visual novel and if you like very gross stuff you might like it

Evan rubs dirt and spit on the paper to get that filthy texture. i love their art so much, i want to use this game to show everyone how good it is!

Cunt Toward Enemy

Written

*

Everything is an explosive. Every thought is a sort of explosion inside the head. When you give me your hand I feel as if something is exploding inside you.

— Karel Čapek, “Krakatit”

*

Don’t move.

The LED screens and billboards around the Fuchsia World Mall all say the same thing.

People run, of course.

The parking lot explodes. The mall shakes. Smoke rises from the courtyard at the center, or traps itself dark behind cracked windows.

Eventually, people stop moving. Some have the presence of mind to understand what’s happening, the rest get lucky with shock and concussion, or the inability to move with their new bodies. The border is delineated by horrified bystanders, clean and unharmed, except for the powderized city drifting into the creases of their clothes and lungs.

Lazur drives into the storm of carcinogens, windshield growing grayer.

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agent of innocent: stats

Written

stats talk to you like disco elysium
because it’s a good idea but people haven’t made it horney enough yet

each stat is an extreme version of you

this stat is your corrupted occult sadomasochist future

there are 4 stats total, because 4 is 1 less than 5, which is a relatively unsexy number.
did you know most winged insects have four wings?
four is also a number most people have heard of, making it accessible and marketable.
4️⃣

stats interject passively, but can be ROLLED at key points like the degenerate gambler you are

you find yourself in a terrible place. terror breeds specialization. or confusion. maintain suit integrity or become just another wet spot on the panties of death.

more stats later!

art by greenie!!

Amiantos

Written

I live in a building with my parents and hundreds of other people. We will live here for the rest of our lives, and our children will do the same. Categorized PL, Permanent Life. Prison-for-life.

The loudspeaker: …subtropical lowlands, clay and limestone, pseudo-desert, mineral steppe…

In one of the common areas, I see a soldier through the bars, smoking outside. At this second, no one else is near us.

I say, “I can see us together at the war crime tribunal in twenty years.”

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agent of innocent: flip phone

Written

greenie made a beautiful UI for the game: Perfect’s INNOCENT-issue flip phone. the last time phones were MANLY.

check your stats, fashion, inventory, messages; each menu is a program in your phone, and you can unlock more (i like the idea of porn, malware, “lil pal” progs, etc…)

“back button”? ok homo. how about you kill something if you want to go back that bad?

when it comes to UI, style is INFINITELY more important than substance. we do not “User Interface” we “Loser Interface”. from the moment your player clicks the mouse they have lost. they are undoubtedly a slimy failure and cannot be reasoned with. it is beyond fact that “gamers” are the ruined fuckholes of the consumer world.
“good UI”? “minimal”? “clarity”? “accessibility features”?
get the fuck out of here…
the gamer is an animal who will click through ten menus in their favorite jrpg just to pick up a rock or some shit. gaming is an expression of their innate desire to submit. “SUBmenus”? hello???

UI is also an expression of the player’s stats. the higher a stat, the more it inflicts its way of organizing information on you…but that’s a story for another day!!

agent of innocent: perfect tense

Written

working on a BL game with greenie (beautiful art!!) and riley (beautiful music!!)

that’s right
a Bug’s Life game, sickos

Bug’s Love?
it’s a horror game about vermin, sugar, knees, fashion, torture, obsession, just normal guy stuff

the GUI must display the name of the protagonist and his zodiac sign at all times
no serious game would deviate from this principle

Perfect Tense is an agent of INNOCENT

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honeydew toxicity event

Written

>mom comes in
>anon why are there one million mountain dew bottles
>mountain dew is a complete protein dont be a faggot mom
>dumb cunt looks at me like i just blew her fucking mind

Do you fuck your mom?
she’s a faggot and you’re a butt baby
AIDS baby
hydrofags ITT
water made my sister bipolar
Mountain Drew
Rapyed
Anon has a serious problem and we need to be sensitive. If you don’t get your hydration purely from pussy juice kys inshallah
__call it au jus the way you’re penciling roasties
____only walls homies getting are when he activates onetap

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Soft Now

Written

My corner store lighter drops to the blackened heath where thousands of charred worms lay. I pick it up and flick it until my censer lights and I close my eyes as the fumes fill me with a better world.

Baas looks up from his twelve hammers, trying to assess a body count from the different colors of hair sticking to the claws. “You know that kills you, right?”

“It kills them faster.”

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Xrafstar Killers

Written

your friend played this game. he helped you beat the parts you couldn’t beat. but he’s gone now. you’re at his house as the rain beats down and the living room smells like wet wood and carpet uncleaned since you were kids. Dim light cuts the room in half, the rest shadow from which you deliver his old CDs and cartridges into a cardboard box because his parents said do whatever with his stuff, wouldn’t understand what they were looking at, what it means to a kid. Xrafstar Killers for the PSP, the scratched, smeared disc so light in your hands like it couldn’t possibly contain that deep, dark, beautiful world you stumbled through, grabbing the console back, trying to impress him, plastic sticky from shared sweat.

you break the disc in the kitchen and pick up the biggest shard. you’re running out of things to believe in. you cut yourself in the lines you learned before that post was deleted for violating the community code of conduct. this world is the false one. the dream is real. the post warned that every captive world has become hell in the absence of the hearts of children. that tyrants have taken control. that you should think twice about entering a place where death is torture’s blink. where you can’t shut it off if it becomes too much, a razor-lined wheel of reincarnation. it doesn’t matter. you’ll see him again, in whatever form you fit inside, in the world of Xrafstar Killers. To never be alone.