Niklas Jansson
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Hardwar Continued
🕑 Added 2023-10-06 15:12:17 +0000 UTCI've always liked yellow construction crabs. I think Half-life 1 had one on the into level. It's questionable whether people would bother with legged and wheeled vehicles in a world with solar powered anti-gravity though. I don't know what kind of atmosphere is on Titan at this point and to what degree the surface is developed. There are air-locks, but there's also some green on the ground textures, and blue watery liquids. IRL Titan is cold (~200'C), with nitrogen, methane, hydrogen at 1.5atm. Methane/ethane/hydrocarbon forms rain and lakes. Rocks are water ice (apparently gets rather hard at low temps). I don't think there's a smattering of deep old ring craters due to the activity on the surface, but there are apparently craters. I wonder if anti-gravity would benefit from lower temps...
If this is just a homage project, I'd use a different moon, probably. Maybe a different solar system.
The game doesn't have that many weapons. Laser, plasma and other energy weapons are perhaps interesting to draw, and they offer some variation in effects, but they also feel rather intangible and wooshy (though sound design plays a big role there). Traditional cased bang bang ammunition has more oompf but less diversity. I can imagine some sort of armour penetration model, clanging of rounds against armour plating (once shields are down), and big chonky risky slow fire grenade cannons.
With so much wild gunning, I think it would be best if buildings had a shield effect too.
Salvage could be picked up using little salvage arms on the cargo pod. I don't think Moths have internal cargo capacity. In game you need a pod and a salvage drone to pick up stuff, afaik.
MANUAL STORY BIT:
Titan. A freezing moon within our own solar system. A neglected mining outpost, established centuries ago within a series of craters. Once, it proved to be a profitable enterprise, but the corporations backed out, leaving the staff and colonists to fend for themselves. This is the bleak city of Misplaced Optimism.
Factions have formed in the intervening years. A political and military stalemate has evolved, where organisations hoard and grudgingly trade the scare resources in an attempt to survive. All the time, they watch for a break that may tilt the balance of power in their favour.
The factions themselves are not the wholesome corporations they once were. Their distrust has led to the use of some extremely unorthodox methods, always keeping the power and control among a select few. Centuries of interbreeding, mass cloning, genocidal class cleansing, sterilisation and other spiteful operations have all contributed to shape a race that can only tenuously be labelled "Human". After two hundred years of isolation, the inhabitants have become both morally and genetically corrupt. Little will motivate these souls, but there is one common desire: To leave this cold, harsh rock.
Those who earn their wings can make a good living, whether they work as traders, or become entwined in the ferocious power struggle that has emerged from the ever growing social tension. Information, thoughts, feelings and rumours are echoed around the city by the neutral, but informative Hardwarp FM. For many, it's a way of holding onto sanity, but for others? It's an opportunity...
