Narrative Designer & Writer
“My dear diary… I tasted the apocalypse on the roof of my mouth. I mean… Today my heart broken. I don’t even know if that sentence is grammatically perfect, but it feels like the only way to say it. My heart broken today. Pedro cheated on me." — Excerpt from My English Diary, a story-driven English-learning podcast produced in Brazil.
Only one word is enough to numb, blind, or heal you. As Nélida Piñon once said: “I praise when the verb circulates among mortals. Coarse, cruel, refined." There must be wisdom and an excess of care with the words that will leave your all-too-simple mouth. Imagine someone who holds power through language: through the verb, the subject, the object. Everything Natali utters, once she truly believes it and writes it down in her notebook, happens. And it is irreversible. A blessing or a curse, every ounce of caution must be set in motion. — Excerpt from Only One Word, a narrative game in development.
They exhaled their powers through the supernatural art of dance — among others. Their feet carried both the burden and the vitality of expelling demons or conjuring them, depending on the melody and the rhythm: death and life either clashed or moved in harmony.
Celestia, a distant metropolis of the twenty-fifth century, carries at its core art, magic, and nanotechnology; vampiric actors, sorcerer singers, and devotees of the dance of death. It is an era of vast quantum knowledge and hermetic philosophy, yet little love. An era celebrated for great artistic brilliance and little mercy. The villain is the TV host; the hero is the film score composer. Everyone there practices a craft that brushes against the artistic world, and everyone possesses some form of occult knowledge — whether for good deeds or darker purposes. — Excerpt from Celestia, a narrative game in development.
She is Death. He is Destruction.
Both grapple with each other as if in an effervescent and glacial dance, triumphant and decadent. Never has there been such a visceral entanglement between two bodies, two minds, and two souls. And yet, their souls are mere chimeras: nonexistent.
The Five-Pointed Star presents a mosaic of fragments, revealing scattered and non-chronological accounts of a young angel of destruction and his beloved, who calls herself an angel of death. Together they hunt and devour men of vile character, merciless men, in other words, demons.
Through their perspectives — remarkable essays — we follow Death and Destruction as the anti-heroes of nauseating, viscous, and strident tales, and witness their fierce and cunning union, one that seizes any unfortunate soul who crosses their path.
— Excerpt from The Five-Pointed Star, a narrative game in development.