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Making Game: CH 8 – An Overboard Gesture
🕑 Added 2025-09-14 09:34:20 +0000 UTCJuno was sprawled on the floor of Dorian's room, sweating and breathing heavily, but with a huge, exhilarated grin on her face. Dorian chuckled as he handed her a glass of water. She took it, drank the entire thing in one long go, and then held it out for a refill.
"Damn, Juno, you were thirsty," Dorian said with a laugh.
"Shut up," she said, her voice still a little breathless. "You are the one who told me to 'feel the music' and 'hum whatever I feel'."
Dorian sat down on the floor with her, leaning back against his bed. "It feels good though, right?"
"Yeah," she said, a happy little laugh escaping her. "Hehe. Anyway, what are you going to do with it?"
Dorian looked at the recording interface on his desk, which now held a dozen different tracks of Juno's humming and vocalizations, a rich tapestry of backing vocals he could use in all sorts of ways. "I do not know yet. It is all just a demo track, anyway. Most of the instruments you hear are just spliced up samples I found on the net. I would need proper instruments, at the very least."
Juno frowned thoughtfully. "Why not use a program? There are lots of programs that can let you play any instrument without using the real one."
"Yeah, but they still need a sensor equipment rig to connect with my movements, to actually play them," Dorian explained. "I can not splurge that much for now."
Juno's eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh! I think one of my dad's guild members has one of those. She is a Weavers class Solar with a sensory type power. I think she always has those kinds of sensors to train her ability, and she goes through them so fast she has a lot piled up every month."
"Really?" Dorian's interest was piqued, but he immediately shook his head. "But I cannot, though. I cannot just take it from you."
"Sure you can," Juno insisted. She then got a clever, mischievous look in her eyes. "How about you make me a song instead?"
Dorian blinked. "You want me to write you a song? Do you want to be a singer?"
"No, dummy," she said, playfully shoving his shoulder. "I want you to make me a song and sing it for me. I will take that as payment."
A slow, genuine smile spread across Dorian's face. He looked at his friend, his brilliant, supportive, and slightly crazy friend, and felt a profound sense of gratitude. He held out his hand.
"Sure," he said. "Deal."
Juno shook his hand firmly. "Deal."
They spent a bit more time together, just talking and laughing, before Juno finally had to leave. Dorian walked her to the starliner station. He stood on the platform, waving as the transport ship lifted off, its lights shrinking into the perpetual twilight of the lower levels. As the ship disappeared, Dorian turned and started the long walk back home.
When he arrived home, the quiet energy from his time with Juno did not dissipate. It solidified into a sharp, clear purpose. He walked into his room and began to plan.
His primary, immediate need was simple: money. He needed it for everything. Better equipment, software licenses, the complex web of copyrights he would have to navigate to legally release his work, and eventually, a dedicated, secure workstation to do it all.
He looked at the small desk in the corner, then around at the cramped confines of his bedroom. He sighed and got to work. He drew an invisible line down the center of the space. On one side, he kept his personal life: his bed, the collection of photos on the wall, and the academic charters and awards that now felt like relics from a different person's life.
The other side became his studio. He cleared a space for the future music station, a patch of floor that would, he hoped, soon be occupied by the sensor rig Juno promised. His old desk became the heart of the operation: his new gaming and tech station. This was where he would learn, code his first gaming project, continue to upgrade Leo, and handle all the technical aspects of his burgeoning enterprise. For now, it was a neat, hopeful, and mostly empty space.
He pulled out his notebook, turning to the list of games he knew from his past life. He needed a proof of concept, something manageable for a one-man studio operating on a shoestring budget. His eyes landed on a title he had circled multiple times. A simple game that felt like exactly what this world needed most. Stardew Valley.
A game about finding peace, building a community, and pulling abundance from the earth. In a world of sterile nutrient paste and crushing urban life, the concept was so alien it was revolutionary. The reason he picked it was simple: it was achievable. He began to map out a possible development roadmap.
The first major hurdle appeared: art style. In his era, there were no pixel games. Should he remain faithful to the source material, creating a charming, retro pixel aesthetic that might be seen as crude and simplistic by this world's standards? Or should he adapt it to the era's slick, holographic style, potentially losing the soul of the original in a sea of polished graphics?
His conversation with Juno had also sparked a fire in another part of his mind. The music. The simple joy of creating something with her had opened a floodgate. Should he specialize in a single, marketable genre, something like the lo-fi beats that could become popular background music? Or should he unleash a torrent of diverse masterpieces, giving this world a taste of everything from Queen to Nirvana?
His mind was a whirlwind, a conductor trying to lead two different orchestras at once. His body, however, was a model of efficiency. He pulled out another notebook. One was open to a page detailing the core gameplay loop of a farming simulator. The other was filled with musical notations and genre analysis. It was a symphony of organized chaos, a beautiful, passionate mess of creation. The night was young, and for the first time in his life, Dorian Kepler was not just remembering a world. He was building one.
…
A few days later, a low, powerful hum vibrated through the floor of the Kepler apartment, followed by a loud mechanical whirring right outside their window.
"What the..." Dorian muttered, getting up from his work. He looked out the window and saw a large, professional moving company ship hovering there. His first thought was immediate. "Juno."
Sure enough, a moment later, his doorbell rang. It was her, grinning from ear to ear.
"What is this?" Dorian asked, gesturing to the massive ship behind her.
"Well," she began, a little too casually, "I was searching for the guild member, right? Turns out she went out on a mission to the Outer Rims, so I could not wait that long for her to come back. So, I went around and I found this specialized music desk. It is complete, with a docking station for any Compadre to connect and help you with your work."
Dorian's eyes went wide. He could see the object in the ship's cargo bay. "You 'found' this? Juno, it is brand new!"
She chuckled, a little nervously. "Hehe, does it show?"
"It is literally spotless and still covered in protective plastic film!" he exclaimed.
"Well," she said, shrugging with an air of feigned innocence. "I went overboard, I guess."
Dorian's mind was racing. "Give me the numbers. I just cannot let you give this to me. Just give me time, I will repay this slowly."
"No, it is okay, really," Juno insisted.
"Numbers, please."
Juno completely ignored him and turned to the moving company Compadres that were now floating out of the ship with the desk. "Okay, if you could just place it in the room at the end of the hall, that would be great!"
"Hey, Juno, do not ignore me," Dorian said, but she did not answer him, simply guiding the desk past him and into his room.
After the moving company had flown away, Juno waved them a cheerful goodbye. Dorian tried one last time. "Juno, please..."
"Oh, my song, please," she said instantly, flipping the entire scenario on its head.
Dorian sighed, a mixture of exasperation and deep gratitude. "Let me familiarize myself with it for a bit, okay?"
"Yeayy!" she cheered. "Let me come. I want to see you struggling with it."
He led her back to his room. A brand new, gleaming producer's desk now dominated one side of the space, covered in a complex array of toggles and controls. As he powered it on, a large holo-monitor popped up, and a sensor array extended from the front. Dorian tentatively swiped his hand through the sensor's field. A cascade of shimmering harp notes followed his movement through the air.
He realized he could tap virtual keys on the desk's surface. He tried a few, and the sensor changed, the sound shifting to the rich, resonant chords of a grand piano. Another tap, and it became the sharp twang of an acoustic guitar.
"So the desk scans my body, huh?" Dorian said, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "I am a bit uncomfortable with that."
"Why is that?" Juno asked, tilting her head.
"I am just not comfortable with the Accord scanning my actions."
Juno burst out laughing. "You are such an old man, Dorian! You think the Accord is looking into your life every day? Hahahaha!"
"Fine, if you do not believe me."
"Alright, old man," she said, still giggling. "The Accord is following our decades of life like they do not have a life of their own. Hahahaha!"
Dorian fell silent. She was right. In this life, people could live for centuries. Unlike his past life, where time felt like a constantly draining resource, this world had lengthened the human lifespan dramatically. In theory, he could take it slow. He realized, with a jolt, that he was still operating on his past life's mindset of doing things as soon as possible, as if he only had a few decades to make his mark.
Juno's laughter subsided, and she looked at the incredible piece of technology. "So," she asked, a wide, genuine smile on her face. "How is the desk?"
Dorian tapped a key, then another. He messed with the distortion controls, turning a simple C-major chord into a comical, flatulent buzz. The room was filled with laughter as they spent the next hour messing around, exploring the incredible range of sounds the desk could produce.
"So familiar, yet," Juno said softly, after a particularly beautiful string-section sound faded away.
"I guess," Dorian chuckled.
Juno's playful mood shifted, her eyes gaining a new, determined sparkle. "So. My song, please. Preferably now."
Dorian was taken aback. He looked down at the notebook on his desk, filled with his plans for Stardew Valley.
Juno pouted, crossing her arms. "Do not tell me you have not written anything yet."
Dorian closed the notebook with a loud snap. "No, no! It is just... I have been preoccupied with another project lately."
Juno let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. I will wait."
"No, no," Dorian cut her off, unable to resist her disappointed face. "Sit down."
He grabbed a spare stool and slid it in front of the desk. His fingers danced over the holographic controls, setting the instrument to a simple, clean grand piano. He tapped the sensor array to test the sound, a few clear notes ringing out. Ting, ting...
Juno pulled a small, silver orb drone from her handbag and placed it on the corner of Dorian's bed, its tiny lens angling perfectly to capture him at the desk.
"Hey, what is that for?" Dorian asked, his hands freezing over the controls.
"For me," Juno said simply. "It is my song, so I get to record it and play the recording whenever I like."
"At least do not show my face."
Juno grinned. "Why? You are not that ugly."
"Oh, wow, a vote of confidence from over here," Dorian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. They both laughed, the tension breaking.
Dorian took a deep breath, a slow inhale and exhale to center himself.
Juno leaned forward, her expression softening into a genuine, encouraging smile. "Do not worry," she said. "If it is not good, I will just come back every day until you give me a good song. Hehe."
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Stardwey Valley: 1% ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
