#I added the googles like four months ago and I always fail to draw them IM SO SORRY

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Cable management

[octoberobserver]

“Just To Dream In The Moonlight” - (Eddie Can Sing)

Richie Tozier was on a date.

Eddie Kaspbrak was not.

Instead, he was at home, the home he had been sharing with Richie for five months now, hunched over his laptop at the kitchen table and steadily building up a knot in the base of his spine because he was too fucking old for this shit.

Fuck his life.

He had died, come back, divorced his wife, moved half-way across the country, only to find himself working from home on a Saturday night while his roommate, best friend and, oh yeah, love of his pathetic fucking life, went out to dinner with some handsome, single, ‘Instagram model.’ 

I mean, what the fuck even is that anyway?

Eddie knew this day would come, of course. Had seen it almost instantly after Richie came out, live on stage.

Richie was a catch. He was funny, smart, and…yeah, he’d admit, handsome. Bev was right. He did ‘grow into his looks.’ 

So, it didn’t take a genius to realise that him coming out would soon draw the attention of all the eligible men within a hundred mile radius and for them to show their interest. They’d be fools not to.

And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Kaspbrak?

With a groan, Eddie dragged a palm down his face, snapping his laptop shut and pushing it away from him.

He had to cut out this wallowing bullshit. It wasn’t a good look, at all. 

Richie was on a date and that was…good.

Right?

Eddie, as a good friend, should think that’s a good thing.

Then again - has Eddie always been a good friend? 

With a roll of his eyes, he shut down that line of thinking, knowing it was the blame of the two glasses of wine he had just inhaled while pouring over Teddy’s illegible ‘reports’ while trying to ignore what Richie could possibly be doing right about now.

Or who, his mind added scathingly. 

Shaking his head, Eddie mentally-scolded himself for his stupid, jealous streak. 

Richie had left just over an hour ago, throwing him a half-hearted wave, muttering a low, “Won’t be long, Eds. Trust me,” and snapping the door shut behind him.

It hardly screamed a guy who intended on having a little Wham, Bam, Thank you, Sam. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with a one-night-stand. Richie is a consenting adult, Eddie’s treacherous brain reminded him. 

Despite this, Richie had insisted, all this week that it was “practically a business dinner.” Something that his publicist had apparently set up that was more than a little mandatory for some bullshit-Hollywood-reason. 

Richie had not seemed too psyched about it either. Lamenting to Eddie more than once that he didn’t have time for “aging-ex-Disney-stars-looking-for-the-ultimate-selfie-or-whatever.”

But that had been before he had seen the picture.

Up-and-coming actor and singer, Dylan Lemass was…hot. Even Eddie could concede that.

And, he was a little more age-appropriate (at 33) than most guys DMing Richie at four in the morning.

Richie hadn’t been quite quick enough at hiding his impressed eyebrow quirk at the picture sent to him by Bev after some googling. 

“He looks…nice,” Eddie had ground out through clenched jaw, heart panging as Richie began to nod.

“Uh, yeah. I guess. If…if that’s your type.” 

“Richie, that guy is everybody’s type.” 

He had looked at Eddie then, something indecipherable on his face. 

“I’m not usually into…blonds.” 

Usually.

That had been the only word to ring in Eddie’s head. 

“Well,” he forced himself to shrug, punching Richie harder than he intended on the shoulder, “just see how it goes. You never know…he might…he might be your Mr Right.” 

Fuck, actually, Eddie was a damn good friend, okay? He had encouraged Richie, “Mr Right” and all that shit, and helped him pick between two (admittedly ugly) shirts and everything. 

He was friend of the fucking year.

Friend.

Just a friend.

With a sigh, he crossed to the fridge, fully intending to help himself to the leftover cheesecake that Richie had bought them in celebration of four months of Eddie allowing himself dairy again.

“I know you belong to somebody new,” he sang under his breath, the old song he had heard on the radio this morning continuing to be an ear-worm, “but tonight, you belong to me.” 

He crossed the kitchen to get a spoon from the drawer, because it was an eating-straight-from-the-container-despite-that-being-gross kinda night, and sticking it directly into the strawberry mousse. 

“Although we’re apart, you’re a part of my heart,” he continued, cheesecake in one hand and picking up his half-empty glass with the other, making his way out to the couch.

“But tonight, you belong to—”

“A bit of Eddie Vedder, huh? Eddie squared, I like it.” 

He jumped so high that his red wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the glass.

“Fuck, Richie! Don’t scare me like that, dipshit!” 

The man in question snorted out a laugh from his position at the front door, keys still in hand, jacket half off one shoulder.

“I did say ‘honey I’m home,’ Eds. Not my fault you were too busy crooning to notice.” 

Eddie’s face flushed as he collected himself, carefully depositing his glass and cheesecake on the coffee table before straightening up and tilting his head at his friend. 

“You’re home early.” 

He didn't mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did. 

He winced.

“I mean, uh…how’d the date go?” 

Richie’s face was pretty expressionless as he shrugged.

“We wined, dined and sixty-nined. Just how I like it.” 

Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

“Wha—”

“I’m kidding, Eddie, Jesus,” Richie held up his hands as he kicked off his shoes, leaving them by Eddie’s on the rack by the door and padding over in his socks to the couch, sinking down into it with a loud sigh.

“It went exactly like I thought it would,” he mumbled to the ceiling, slipping his glasses up his forehead to rest in his hair, his eyes falling closed.

Eddie watched him for a moment, unsure what to do, before taking a seat beside him, turning to properly look at him.

He seemed…tired. Weary. 

Sad?

Shit.

Time for Eddie to be a good friend. 

“Well, fuck that guy, Rich,” he reached out and clasped Richie’s arm. “He’s clearly a dumbass if he can’t see what a fucking catch you are.” 

Slowly, those dark eyes that Eddie loved so much blinked open, meeting his with something indistinguishable glimmering in them.

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

It was the most sincere Eddie had heard his friend be in a long time.

It made his heart skip a beat.

Quietly, he reached out and picked up the glass and cheesecake, holding it out.

“Wanna watch that new Chris Hansen exposé?” 

A small smile crossed Richie’s face, breaking through the weariness like a soothing balm.

“Sounds like a plan, Eds Spagheds.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, throwing the remote at him before standing up.

“I’m opening another bottle. Don’t start without me.” 

He crossed the room, into the kitchen and towards the fridge. 

“He couldn’t sing for shit either, Eds,” Richie called after him, sounding pained. “He made me suffer through like four YouTube videos of him squawking his way through covers. I wanted to use the steak knife to stab out my own eardrums. It was fucking torture, man. You’re a hell of a lot nicer to listen to.” 

Eddie froze, bottle in hand, the soft, unthinking compliment making him blush from head to toe. 

“Eddie Vedder is technically a cover too,” he reminded him as he fought (and failed) to keep the grin from his face.

“Yeah, I know but…least it’s not the Patience and Prudence version. Talk about creepy. That’s some Children-of-the-Corn-type shit.”

Eddie snorted out a laugh as he made his way back into the living room, sinking down into the couch, his stomach lurching as his thigh pressed against Richie’s.

Richie held out his cheesecake-topped spoon, dangling it in Eddie’s face and making obnoxious airplane noises.

“Want some before I infect it with my Trashmouth germs, Eds? It’s a one time deal. I know how you feel about double-dipping.” 

Eddie leaned forward, closing his mouth around the spoon, eyes gluing to Richie’s as he swallowed the bite and pulled back slowly.

Richie’s eyes were the size of saucers, clearly shocked that Eddie had called his bluff.

“Uh, I…” he cleared his throat, “it’s good?” 

Eddie smirked, “Yeah, it’s good.” 

“Cool.” 

They lapsed into a short silence, Richie shifting to face the TV just as Chris Hansen popped up and launched into his latest case.

“Thanks, Eds. For the uh…cheesecake.” 

He nodded, deciding not to comment as Richie kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, his shoulder pressing into his as he slowly, carefully, raised the spoon to his own lips.

Eddie blushed like a teenager as he kept his gaze firmly on the TV, trying not to think about the fact that Richie so easily put his mouth somewhere Eddie just had his.

At about the twenty-five minute mark, Eddie felt a soft, familiar pressure close to his neck.

Tilting his head ever so slightly, he saw that Richie had fallen asleep, his cheek pressed into Eddie’s shoulder, his glasses askew.

A small smile spread across his face as Eddie let his own head tip back a little, resting against the couch, the lyrics of that godforsaken song flittering into his brain.

“Wait down by the stream, how sweet it will seem, once more just to dream in the moonlight…” 

(Read the entire series here)

[pinknerdpanda]

Bad Blood - Part 1

Characters: Reader x Roy, Sam, Dean

Summary: You stop at a small cafe in Louisiana on your way home from hunting with the Winchesters. There is something about the man behind the counter that makes you hungry for more than just the pie.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Pre-Smuttiness

Word Count: 2262

A/N: This is the first part of a series I am working on. Part 2 is already done and I am starting part 3 next. Future parts will be NSFW and I will be sure to put that in the warnings. The gif is not mine - thanks Google.

Your feedback is so appreciated! :)

Thanks to my Soul Sister @wheresthekillswitch for beta’ing this for me and for always encouraging me. Also thanks to @emilywritesaboutdean who kinda pre-beta’d this like a long time ago when Lee was working on her 400 celebration and I needed help moving forward. You are both incredible writers and I am privileged to call you my friends. The support and love you guys and @arryn-nyxx give me on a regular basis is beyond words. I love my squishes.

Tags are below - please send me an ask if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list! :)

Bad Blood

Part 1

Guidry’s Cajun Cafe - Carencro LA

You have seen your fair share of shady places, but this one - with its battered walls and rickety tables and mismatched chairs may well top your list. You eye the empty barstools lining the counter to determine the one least likely to put your ass on the floor. You decide on the one closest to the cash register, perching gingerly upon it.

The run-down cafe is nearly empty, unsurprisingly so at 12 am. The smell of coffee makes your stomach growl and you immediately turn over the chipped stoneware mug in anticipation. The sudden squeak of a swinging door is soon followed by soft melodic whistle, both sounds cause your head to jerk up from the menu in your hand. A man wearing a green apron appears behind the counter. He approaches you holding a pot of coffee in one of his large hands.

“Evenin’ ma’am,” he drawls, his voice is warm and intoxicating. One side of his mouth quirks in a grin as he fills your cup.

“Thank you.” You return the smile as you meet his gaze. His brilliant blue eyes are mesmerizing.

“Can I get you anything ‘sides the coffee t’night?”

“Uh...yeah...actually. Do you have any, uh...pie?” You groan internally as you stumble your way through your reply. Get your shit together. What is the matter with you?

“I believe we got one slice left.” The grin on his face widens, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle slightly. “How d’you feel about cherry?”

“Sounds great. I’ll have that.”

“Comin’ right up.”

He turns on his heel to get your pie, offering you a glimpse of his back. This man is huge, though definitely not freakishly tall like your friend Sam. The thought of Sam and his brother Dean makes your eyes roll.

Those crazy sons-a-bitches nearly got you killed. Three days ago, they’d called, asking for your help to take out a nest of vamps in Baton Rouge. What could go wrong?

Well, as it turns out, everything.

According to their research, the nest had contained no more than half a dozen bloodsuckers. They’d been keeping a low profile in the area, but the signs were all there; seven missing in the last eighteen months and four bodies, all drifters, with their throats ripped out and not a drop of blood to their name.

The Winchesters tracked them to a run-down shack out on Highway 61. The dense foliage obscured the building from the road, providing a prime spot for the vamps’ homebase. The sliver of moonlight in the inky sky gave off little light making it impossible to discern distinct shapes.

Dean found a secluded spot to stow his Impala and the three of you exited the vehicle quickly. The elder brother popped the trunk and you stifled a giggle as he propped it open with a sawed off shotgun.

You’d only been hunting with these boys a few other times and each time you’d found something new to be intrigued by.  Sam and Dean had battled and taken out every kind of evil thing you’d ever heard of and a handful that you hadn’t. Their reputation was known far and wide in the close-knit community. In your few encounters with the handsome brothers, you’d grown to appreciate their trademark cunning and intellect and they’d quickly earned your heartfelt respect. Dean’s cocky attitude and confident swagger, however, had the innate ability to frustrate the shit out of you and this was no exception.

In the hours leading up to your arrival, you’d tried and failed multiple times to get the green eyed man to share his strategy to take out the nest, each time receiving the same self-assured grin.

“It’s simple, princess. We go in, chop their heads off and celebrate with a beer for a job well done.” His use of the nickname “princess” annoyed you, but you chose to let it go for the moment.

Dean turned, passing a machete each to you and Sam, his own gripped tightly in his large hand, before slamming the trunk closed.

“Ok, we good?” His tone was determined and focused.

“What’s our play here?” you asked again, hoping for a proper answer this time.

“I told you, get in, get out, beers. Any questions?”

“That’s it?” you barked, frustration sharpening your tone.

Sam glanced at you empathetically. He seemed to understand your need for detail, but you assumed that his years on the road with Dean had helped him learn to cope.

“Oh I’m sorry, princess, do I need to draw you a diagram?” Dean retorted as he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate you with his large frame. He gestured vaguely toward the highway. “Look, there’s the road if you want out, but I suggest you start walking now if you want to make it back to town by morning.”

Your blood boiled as you squared your shoulders and your eyes narrowed. You stretched your neck to meet his gaze.

“Listen here, Winchester, call me ‘princess’ again and it WILL be the last time.  You called me, remember?” You jabbed your finger into his chest to emphasize each word. “You need me, so you can back off with your badass male-dominance, ‘I’ve got a big dick’ bullshit. All I want is a plan. You wanna waltz through that door and get your ass ripped to shreds, be my guest, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your over-confidence put me in the ground.”

A muffled sound made your head whip around. Sam’s eyes glittered with suppressed laughter and his scruff covered dimples threatened to emerge. The sight was infuriating.

“What’s so funny over there, Sasquatch?” you growled through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” he said. His attempt to wipe the smile off his face failed. “Nothing at all. I just love watching you refuse to take Dean’s crap. It is just so...refreshing.”

Dean grunted and you looked back at him through slits. “Well, what’s it going to be, Dean. You gonna keep up this asshole schtick or are we going to do our job?”

“Fine. Y/N.” He spit out your name like a curse as he leaned back against the car and sighed. “Sam and I will take the front door, you go round back to catch any trying to make a get-away. Chop chop and we are out of here. Capisce?”

The half dozen vampires turned out to be 15 and the “shack” - an expansive abandoned motel. When everything was said and done, you were all three bleeding profusely, each needing an indeterminate number of stitches, but the nest was eliminated. You limped back to the Impala in silence, chucking your blood-coated blade in the trunk before falling into the back seat and slamming the door.

Dean slid carefully behind the wheel, letting out a deep breath as Sam took his seat.

“Y/N…” Dean’s tone was soft and tinged with remorse but you cut him off.

“Just...don’t. OK? They are dead, we are breathing. Let’s just be done. I need a shower and you promised me a beer.”

Dean nodded, throwing the car in reverse before tearing off down the road.

The soft rattle of a plate against the counter draws you out of your thoughts. You smile appreciatively at the man. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”

“Bon appetite. The name’s Roy,” he offers a large calloused hand and you reach to shake it instinctively, your brain entranced by the sparkle of his eyes and his perfect white teeth.

“Y/N,” you manage, swallowing hard, the feel of his hand wrapped around yours sending a current down your spine.

“Nice to meet ya, y/n. What brings you to this part of Louisiana this time ‘a night?” He releases your hand and leans on his elbows, crossing his arms on the counter in front of you.

“Passing through on my way out of Baton Rouge.” You tug at the collar of your jacket nervously, wincing at the sting of fresh stitches near your collarbone. His eyes follow your movements, pupils widening briefly as the edge of a bandage peeks out from under the collar of your t-shirt. You drop your hand to the steaming mug. “I just needed to stretch my legs a little before I settle in for the long haul back to Texas.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat grabs Roy’s attention. “‘Scuse me, darlin.” He straightens and winks at you, scooping up the pot of coffee and heading toward the booth in the far corner.  

You shake yourself, a voice in your head scolding you for being so awkward. The last few days with the Winchesters have done a number on you. It’s not that you’re attracted to them, but damn are they attractive. You don’t usually go for the pretty-boy, straight from the cover of the plaid-appreciation edition of GQ type. But between the adrenaline of the past few days and the close proximity of the brothers, you are more than a little worked up, and the way Roy is looking at you isn’t helping matters.

Roy makes his way back up to the counter, placing the pot of coffee back on the warmer and grabbing a towel while whistling softly. You study him carefully out of the corner of your eye. His hair is cropped short and his carefully trimmed beard is peppered with grey. His neck is thick and his fitted white shirt hugs his broad chest. The sleeves are rolled up exposing his massive forearms, muscles flexing as he wipes down the counter. You have the sudden image of being pushed against a wall, that muscular chest pressing into yours as one of his thick hands winds into the back of your hair, his lips crashing into yours in a heated kiss.

“How’s it taste, cher?” Roy’s sultry voice breaks your thoughts, making you yelp in surprise. You look up wide-eyed, finding him much closer than you’re expecting and you suck in a quick breath.

Roy raises his hand in front of him, quirking an eyebrow. “My apologies. I wasn’t tryin’ ta frighten you.” You notice his a tinge of sadness in his eyes and a part of you wonders what put it there.

“Sorry.” You smile, shaking your head. “Sorry...it’s just been a long couple of days.” You scoop a forkful of pie and place it in your mouth, closing your eyes in delight as the sweet taste hits your tongue. “This is amazing,” you practically moan.

Roy’s face brightens and a wide smile graces his lips. He seems to enjoy watching you savor each bite as much as you’re enjoying eating it.

The sound of footsteps from behind you is soon followed by the squeak of a hinge and a dull thud as the customers from the far booth head outside. Roy makes his way to the door, flipping the switch on the open sign.

“Oh shit, you’re probably needing to close down…” You try to stand too quickly, but lose your balance as the stool begins tipping over, your foot still entwined in the bottom rung. Roy’s strong arms are on you suddenly as he deftly steadies you and the barstool in one motion. Leaning into his firm chest for support, you untangle your foot from the offending furniture. Your breath hitches as his scent fills your nostrils and your gaze shifts slowly upward to meet his. Roy swipes gently at your parted lips with his rough thumb.

“You had a lil’ som’thin’ on your lips there, cher.” His voice is strained.

He wets his lips and the sight of his tongue sends a heat coursing through your body. Slowly, his hand slides to the back of your head and then his lips are on yours, a feather-light touch. Winding one hand around the back of his neck, you press into him. Your eagerness granting him permission, his tongue dips into your mouth and you moan into his kiss.

A growl vibrates through his chest as his hands slide down the length of your body. One hand lands on your ass, squeezing firmly and you arch your back. Roy kisses a trail from your mouth to your throat and his tongue stops to trace the vein in your neck, the sensation sending waves of heat straight to your core. You swivel your hips and press your thighs together, searching for some kind of friction.

You quickly untie the strings of Roy’s green apron from around his waist, pulling back just enough to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He releases the grip on your body, reaching a hand behind his head to grab a handful of his shirt and yank it off as you shed your jacket. His fingertips fall to trace the hem of your shirt before hooking his fingers under it and removing it from your body. The look on his face as he drinks you in is almost predatory.

His eyes lock onto the patch of white just over your collarbone and he goes completely still, the color draining from his face. You study him, glancing down self consciously to note the blood that has begun to seep from your wound, a bright red spot beginning to spread through the fibers of the bandage.

There is nothing human about the sound that escapes Roy’s throat, and your eyes shoot up to meet his. Pupils dilated, chest heaving, mouth agape as he turns around on his heel. It takes your lust-drunk brain half a second to put the pieces together.

Read Part 2 Here

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[symbianosgames]

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra’s community. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.

Hello, I’m Antonio Uribe, better known as Fáyer. I’m the Co-founder and Director of HyperBeard Games, an indie game studio based in Mexico City. The following text is a combination of an analysis and the story about the development of KleptoCats.

HyperBeard before KleptoCats

At the start of the development we weren’t in the best position. We were sad. The office had lost half of its people because the game we made before wasn’t the success we needed financially speaking, and we were a couple months away of losing the other half. All the people involved in the project thought that this was going to be the last game we made together as a team. But well, if you follow us on Twitter you know that we actually made it and we are still making games.

Where did the idea come from?

While working on the game before KleptoCats, we noticed there was a feeling of discontent towards the players of mobile games- that they only wanted free games and didn’t want to pay for quality content. With this in mind Joe and JP made a prototype as social criticism. The idea was the user would send a cat out and it would return with a random object, and the time the user had to wait would increase more and more from seconds to minutes, hours, days, weeks… The only way to make the cat come back quickly was by paying or watching an ad. I liked the concept a lot, because the objects they chose were really interesting and they caught my attention quickly. Unfortunately, The Balloons (the prior project mentioned above which failed financially) was still under development during our exploration and our boss thought the prototype was kind of silly. So, before we got to explore these ideas further we archived the prototype in our “to do” folder.

After The Balloons wasn’t the success we expected, we immediately started to work on other games. Half of the team worked on a shoot ’em up and the other half worked on a pet game with cookie clicker and world building mechanics. The whole future of the studio depended on these games. By January of 2016, only Joe, JP and me were working for the company. The boss visited us to check the progress on the pet game, which we decided had the most chance of success. The game wasn’t close to playable, the ideas were all over the place and nothing was clear. Disappointed with the state of the development he asked us if we had something that could be done before March, the official closing date of the branch. We remembered the cat idea and with a frown on his face he let us make it. After the first iterations, he was super happy with the project. I make him seem like an asshole but really he’s not so bad (he made me add this part).

Throughout HyperBeard’s history we have paused and canceled many games. This never means that the idea dies, only that it is saved for the future. The pet game was canceled at the time, but KleptoCats was influenced by it and from other games paused in the past. Alchademy, for example, took a lot of inspiration from another game that we developed years ago, mixed with a game that we are about to release soon and with the waiting mechanics of KleptoCats.

Development through iteration

In the beginning, the prototype only had the cat, several objects, and the waiting mechanic. We didn’t know where this game was going, we just started working and ideating with what we had. In three to four weeks we implemented 100 cats, 100+ objects, and the first room. We also added other mechanics like feeding, petting, the mini game, and sounds (that we did ourselves with a mic). With that we decided to soft launch in Mexico and Canada to see if people had any interest in a strange game like KleptoCats.

Thanks to that soft launch we learned a lot and found more things that players wanted in the game. In the next two weeks we added music, accessories, the possibility to change the cats’ names, displaying inactive cats in the background, GemDog, the golden cat, and the object’s descriptions. We also gave ourselves the opportunity to experiment with other ideas. We considered giving the players the ability to place the objects in the room as they wanted. We also considered having different types of cats or even other animals. At the end we decided to continue on the path we already had because it made the most sense for the current game and sometimes the benefits of the ideas didn’t make up for the time we needed to invest.

After the experimentation and the soft launch, we launched globally on March 17, 2016 on iOS and Android. We had valuable feature placement in both stores and a lot of people shared screenshots and more in their social networks. We realized even before we launched that players actually liked sharing stuff about the game.

Not everything went super smoothly, the Android feature got us a lot of attention and with that attention we were flooded with 1 star reviews because the game didn’t work on several low end devices. Those reviews put our game below the 4.0 stars threshold and it was dropped out of the feature. Lucky enough, we managed to work on some optimizations and the game returned to a good position. Now it’s a rated a very respectable 4.5.

KleptoCats’ story and fan theories

If you’re a fan of the game, you’ve probably come across some strange objects that seem to suggest that the game is somewhat more complex than it seems. KleptoCats has a story that is developed while collecting objects. Due to the randomness of the order you may collect the objects, some users may discover it sooner or but for others, it may take a while. The object that makes it very obvious that something is strange, is the mirror.

While we were developing the game, JP (the lead artist) had thought it was a good idea to put a mirror in the center of the room and draw someone tied to a chair in the reflection. That was the origin of the back story. The idea is that the character who is tied up in the mirror, IS the “player” in a certain way. That player is also the voice that describes objects and is the one who experiences what happens in the game. Something that makes the mystery more interesting is that the reflection is only seen when the object is placed. It’s not shown in the catalog and its description says “nothing to see here, just a regular mirror.”

From there we developed the story into the game and added many more objects that took the story to another level, ending with the secret codes hidden in each of the first 4 rooms that, when entered into the safe, open a special secret level for really dedicated fans.

Because of this secrecy, and the way it unfolds differently for each person depending on what objects you find, there are many fans who developed theories about what was going on. A simple Google search reveals several videos, images, and posts with theories. On our side, to keep the lore going, we decided to make a comic that gives a bit more information.

The weirdness of an idle mechanic and the mobile game dev scene

KleptoCats is weird on several levels, but the weirdest thing, by far, is the wait mechanics on which the whole game is based. Most game design strategies are meant to keep your players happy and make them play a lot. In our game we try to have them interested a couple of minutes and then let them leave because there is nothing else to do. The game was designed like a small window to a strange world. Although we make money from the little patience that some players have, we always recommend to wait instead of rushing to find everything.

We didn’t invent the waiting mechanic and we were definitely not the first ones to make an idle collection game with cats (there is Neko Atsume). At first we were criticized for having stolen this other game but, if analyzed, the games are very different. Yes, both have cats, collections and idle mechanics, but how they are played and the purpose of each are very different. I think fans knew to differentiate and appreciate each one for its unique ways.

I think the comparisons happened because both are mobile games, an area of the gaming industry that is not well received. Gamers say that mobile games are not real games, the video game press rarely talks about them, and platform users think that we are only interested in money. Mobile game developers never get respect, and the few times a mobile game catches the attention of the world or the press is because it is making a lot of money. Nobody sees mobile games like the games on console or PC.

The mobile market is a complicated platform. Not only do we get little respect in the industry, we also have to find a way to make money in an ecosystem that refuses to pay and is saturated with free high quality options such as Supercell, King and in recent months Nintendo with IPs like Pokémon and Mario. This topic could be explored even further but for now I do not want to get too distracted.

Passing along to other teammates and combatting momentum

HyperBeard is a small team, when we started KleptoCats we were only 3 people, and now we are 7. The project started with Joe (programmer), JP (artist) and me helping with everything else that was necessary. This team developed the game to the third room. From there we hired a couple more people to add more details and eventually take control of the project. Mario, Marms, and Kyu developed the game from the 4th to the 6th room. The 7th (and those that follow) are currently being developed in collaboration with another branch of the company that owns HyperBeard. Even though to our standards KleptoCats was a success, after months of work and trying to do something new, we found trying to continue the project got tiresome. That’s why we decided after months of working, it was a good idea for the original team to move onto other things while the new members could take it and give it a fresh and different vision. After a month with the new core team, we again decided that it was better to take it to other people. We discovered that it is better to cycle development teams so that it does not feel monotonous and that others can adapt part of their tastes and cultures to the game.

For games like KleptoCats content is very important, it ensures that the app stores pay attention to the game and players stick around and invest in it. Even more important than the content is the people who are working on it, you have to maintain a high morale and also keep the interest of the creators for the project. If you get to lose interest the game will suffer the absence of creativity. That’s why we decided to cycle the development.

The Dupes (duplicated objects)

Having a success doesn’t mean that everything we did was perfect. An example at the beginning of development, due to the randomness of the game, there were many complaints from the players because the cats were bringing repeated objects. Although in the game when this happens we give more coins to the user, we wanted to do something so that the player did not feel like it was a mistake.

To correct the issue, we decided to remove the repeated objects and instead show a bag of money, so it would be more obvious that we were giving more coins. It did not work as expected, although internally the game worked the same, many users complained because by only showing the money bag it was much more obvious when the cat was not giving you a new object.

Not long ago we added another feature to the game where we showed a bubble with the description of the object that the cat brings, because of that, we decided that it was a good idea to return the repeated objects so the user could see again the descriptions that are an important part of the game. Again, it backfired, there were many complaints because the cats were bringing repeated objects and many thought it was a bug in the game.

In all iterations about duplicate objects, things worked exactly the same, the changes were only graphical. Either way the fans always reacted in a negative way, which taught us that sometimes it is better not to pay too much attention to what they say and it is better to see how they act on it.

Merchandise

If you follow us on social networks, you’ve probably seen some pictures of the plushies we made of Guapo (the main cat in KleptoCats). By chance we found a local manufacturer that had some cat plushies that looked very similar to ours and we contacted them to do some tests. We liked the results so much that we shared it online and made a mailing list for anyone interested in getting one. In a couple of weeks, we gathered more than 10,000 subscribers and decided to order 100 units to test.

Selling the plushies was not difficult but we never considered how complicated and expensive it is to send the merchandise to other countries, considering that almost all the fans were from outside Mexico. The entire process took a long time and surely that was more expensive than what we recovered when we sold them. Either way, it was not a bad experience and it was worth it just to see fans from various parts of the world with their KleptoCats plushies.

Besides plushies we did other things, too. A friend helped us with a webcomic that illustrates a bit of the lore of KleptoCats. We also made several stickers to distribute in events and to our friends. The KleptoCats page has a paint tool where you can create KleptoCats and we also have a section of wallpapers for phones and PCs.

KleptoCats Today

The game’s birthday is on March 17th. Today the game has 7 rooms, 280 cats, 844 objects, many accessories to dress the kittens, and is translated into 8 languages. We are still working on the game and a new room will be released soon.

From its first day until its birthday the game has been downloaded more than 6 million times and has generated more than $800,000 (53% from IAPs and 47% from ads). In total, all users have played about 8 million hours, which is almost a thousand years.

We are very happy with the success that KleptoCats has had and in addition to putting HyperBeard on the map, it gives us the money to continue chasing crazy ideas. We are currently developing a couple of ideas and we are getting ready to be publishers for projects similar to ours.

If you read the whole post, thank you very much for your time. If you have any questions or comments, you can always go to my twitter (@fire_tony) or HyperBeard’s (@HyperBeard). On the HyperBeard website you can find more information about our other games and the contact information. Please follow our social networks, on there we are always sharing what we do.