Caps Collective @capscollective - Tumblr Blog

This message was commissioned by the committee of cloaked figures whose motives are beyond your comprehension

PSAs from a fantasy world similar to welcome to night vale for our upcoming fantasy town builder.

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#welcome to night vale #night vale #indiegames

This message was requested by that menacing shadow, just on the edge of your vision

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Made this beautiful river shader for the map in our upcoming game. And yes, there may be a secret hidden behind that waterfall.

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#fantasy #3d #3drender #made with unity #unity

This message was bought and approved by the committee for adventurers seeking wealthy cannon-fodder

Store Page: https://store.steampowered.com/app/1524530

Twitter: https://twitter.com/caps_collective

#fantasy #games #city builder #fantasy-psa #fantasy-town-regional-manager

cheekbonered

australian gothic

- we all refer to the prime minister by their first name. we know them well, and they know us. all of us.

- there’s a man on the street corner who never leaves. “just waiting for a mate,” he says. you realise he is on every corner, of every street.

- you are swooped by a magpie in the same place, at the same time, every single day. “it’s swooping season!” says your neighbour. it has always been swooping season.

- sometimes you hear a woman whispering late at night - or early in the morning. “rage” she hisses. “rage”.

- the prime minister never seems to last long and often disappears through no discernible democratic process. one of them eats a raw onion in an attempt to assimilate. he is gone by morning, replaced by another.

eatingcroutons

- Someone offers you a meat pie. It burns your tongue. You have never asked what kind of meat is in a meat pie.

- The Prime Minister walks into the ocean and is never seen again. They say he was a traitor, defecting to the enemy, whisked away by submarines. You build a swimming pool in his honour.

- The grass is dead, or the grass is Long. You do not go into the grass when it is Long.

- An old man judges you silently as you buy an avocado. You already knew you would never own a home.

- You offer your friend a drink. They refuse. They say they are Designated. You apologise immediately. You meant no offence, and you would never disrespect the Designated. You have newfound admiration for your friend.

- The ground is lava. Your feet burn and blister as you sprint between the safety of the shadows. Everyone knows you can’t wear shoes.

- There are spiders in your shoes. There are spiders in the shed. There are spiders under the toilet seat. The biggest ones, you allow to stay. They lurk in the highest corners of the ceiling, but you know how fast they can run.

- Someone offers you a jam doughnut. It burns your tongue.

- You check your calendar and your house number three times before you turn on the sprinklers. Your neighbour’s face appears at their window. You wonder if you should check again.

- It is time for the Maccas Run. Nobody knows what time it actually is, but you all sense it is right. The Designated stands up.

- Whoever she is, whenever, wherever, whatever she is, she will always be right.

fluffmugger

- It’s bin night. But which bin? The streets lie paralysed, homeowners lurking behind their gates, waiting for someone to make the first move. - The sun is broiling the land dry. Half the country is on fire. You look up at the sky and worry about your flood insurance.

ileolai

- There’s a new prime minister, but it’s the same prime minister. Now he’s gone. There’s a new prime minister. You change your smoke alarm battery.

- You don’t believe the stories about the creatures in the trees, but you take precautions. One day, you see an unwary traveller taking shelter from the blazing sun underneath a jacaranda. When you look back, he’s gone.

- The train is coming in five minutes. The train is coming in four minutes. The train is coming in five minutes. The train is coming in four minutes. The train is coming in five minutes. The train passes you without stopping. The train is coming in five minutes.

- No one knows where They came from, what They want, or why They never age or feel pain. Only the children know. ‘’Fruit salad,’’ they whisper. ‘’Fruit salad.’’

- A giraffe with blank eyes and a strange, fixed smile gives you health advice. You don’t question it.

- ‘’Where the bloody hell are you?’’ The woman asks. ‘’I don’t know,’’ you weep. ‘’I don’t know.’’ She asks again: ‘’Where the bloody hell are you?’’ She never stops asking.

neutrino-supremo

- The sky is big and bright and blue. So bright it hurts. Or is it the blue that hurts? You count the new buds on the plum tree and go inside.

- “Smells like rain”, she says, and you agree. The air is thick. You forget just what you agreed to.

- Rain on the tin roof. Or is it birds? Something’s making a ruckus on the shed. You check the lock on the screen and avoid eye contact.

- It’s hot tonight. You kick your sheets off and wait for the fan to kick in. The sweat drips down your back. You fetch some water. You wake up in a fever. You wait for the fan to kick in.

- There’s an address on TV, the Prime Minister is speaking “Which one?” you ask. No one answers. You know the truth is irrelevant.

- There’s a haze over the hills. Your parents are 10 minutes away, but it’s okay; it’s just fog. You’re parents are 40 minutes away, but it’s okay; it’s just smoke. Your parents are 2 hours away, but it’s okay; it’s just an orange glow. You bring the cat cages into the kitchen.

- It’s the season. You don’t remember which. The baby birds warble and the ferns creep through the black wood.

- There are bumps on your hands from the mozzies. “Don’t scratch!” she hisses, “I’ll get the calamine”. You kill one. Your face is itching. You kill another. “Don’t scratch!” she says. You watch your legs weep. “I’ll get the calamine”.

- Another death in the shark nets. It couldn’t be helped, they say, a necessary measure. You wonder at the limbs.

- You’re not real until you’ve been branded. “Free country” he laughs from under his cap. You pay for the beer and apologise. The fake leather sticks to your thighs.

- The flies got to it before you did. It’s okay, you say, brushing them from your glasses. It’s okay, you say, waving them from your wallet. It’s okay, you say, shooing them from your mouth. It’s okay, replies the hum.

elcomics

Ark. Written by Ehud Lavski. Art by Yael Nathan. If you like it, please share.

Contact: [email protected]

outofcontextdnd

DM, as city guard, to our ranged hunter: No ranged weapons within the city limits!

Hunter: (bluffing) …Oh, this? This is my Seeing-Eye Bow. I need this. To see.

Guard: (rolls a 1) …Oh alright, in you go.

runawaysandtidalwaves-deactivat

ok so like imagine an alien landing and doing the whole “take me to your leader” spiel, and you’re just like “aight” bc aliens are fuckin cool, but the problem is the president is on the completely other side of the country, so you have to go on a cross country road trip with said alien