Press Start || Polysemous

Chapter 1

Howdy lil bread crumbs! Welcome to "Polysemous". This is meant for me to flesh out my story before I draw it as a comic. The art in the picture is actually an unfinished doodle of one of this stories many characters. (Please don't steal my art!)

If you are interested in following along in the designing process and to join in on the audio production that will come later on- follow me on Instagram @ Neontolife

Enjoy!
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"Once upon the seas of sand, the two suns shone brightly. One spent its time burning the sands and making beautiful glass art. All for the people to be able to store their water in. The other sun tried to do the same as his younger brother but wasn't able to create as beautiful of bowls and cups. So the humans and monsters ignored them. As time passed the older of the two decided to leave his brother in search of water for the people. After many days traveling through the desert, the older sun found a vast lake. So with the sand around he began to make a massive bowl. However, he still wasn't good at it. But he tried nonetheless. His bowl was imperfect and had holes in it. But the sun was impatient and only thought of the praise he would receive for bringing the water to the souls of the desert."

On his other wrist was the suns bowl that he had made. With all its imperfections and with water leaking from it.

"...But I still don't understand. Why can't we give attention...our "light" to all of our people?"

A young child asked. Her father chuckled as he kissed her forehead.

"Be patient my little sunspot. Would you like me to continue?"

He smiled down at his daughter.

"I suppose...but I'm not a child any longer...."

"You forget, you will always be my little sunspot. Now the older sun picked up its bowl and began to walk back. As he hadn't made a good bowl, it began to drip and sting the sun. But it didn't stop to fix it. It merely continued to walk thinking of the glory it would receive. As time passed the sun lost its light. Permanently becoming dark and dry. Its warmth leaves and becomes what we now call, the moon. As it returned to its brother, it was too late. The people at first rejoiced the water that was brought, for they were hot. But when the moon gave them its water the sands were flooded and the people began to sink and get stuck. As the moon tried to help it realized there was nothing it could do. He called on his younger brother but as he tried to help, the sand hardened and built the homes we now have. But those humans and monsters who were greedy for more ended up dying to their greed. So the Sun and his brother, the moon, created the homes we have and our city. From the sun came our lineage. But from the moon came the stars. Both brothers decided that the most they could do was watch from afar. The moon would bring the cold nights while the sun would bring the hot days. The story speaks mostly of the moon. Who was impatient and didn't take the time to learn how to properly create glass for the souls to gather their water in. Instead, he went and got water and lost his light. We are the sun, we give what we are able to and watch as the people do with it what they wish. We can't give them too much as the moon tries to for them to become more filled with greed and selfishness and end up killing themselves. Dana and I make sure to give people glass to build a good life. But many fall to the greed of the moon. That's what happened to the doldrums and that's why they stay the doldrums, because there's nothing we can do for them without losing our light and having more lives lost than saved."

At the end of the story he opened his hands and on his palm and finger pads he had the stars on his fingertips and on his other hands fingertips were small sunspots. One white and one yellow. His palm pads had the sun and the moon with the city below. He looked down at her as he held his hands open for her to think about what he had said. She hesitated.....but the lights dimmed above them. The young actors perfectly reciting their lines. The emotions almost making the story seem real as if they had lived the story they portrayed. Nick leaned back in his seat the images coming to mind of the scene. Mortals almost always exaggerated and complicated the story. So much so that they barely realized how much the story contradicted itself and wrote itself into dead ends. Only to be looked over as if nothing was wrong with the story. But his mind wandered back to the story. Images crystal clear.