LUCA FISHER

Welcome! I'm Luca Fisher, game writer, narrative designer, and editor.Below, you'll find a collage of things I've worked on.
Click each one to learn more!

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Stories people tell about me...

"Luca is a tremendously dedicated and productive member of Blanksword's narrative design team. Through a workflow that involves detailed research on any emergent subjects, he adapted quickly to the project's individual needs, and by force of his unbridled creativity and battle-tested problem-solving skill, he is indispensable to the team's swift progress towards a finished product. He is also committed to maintaining a harmonious environment in the workplace, and has mediated disputes with a deft hand when the need arose. I highly recommend his services."— Quinn K., Creative Director of An Outcry, There Swings a Skull: Grim Tidings, and BLANKSWORD"Luca Fisher is a talented, well-read writer whose diverse interests and skill with language make him a pleasure to work with. His writing deftly weaves in subjects such as mythology, architecture, and memory to produce insightful commentaries that provide the reader with new ways of understanding video games."— Merritt K., Former EiC at Fanbyte, Columnist at 1-900-HOTDOG, Game Writer"I’ve had the pleasure of working with Luca on a number of different projects, and came away impressed every time. As both a writer and an editor, he has a keen eye for detail but never loses sight of the bigger picture. His particular focus on character work helps make any script feel more vibrant and lively. On top of that, he truly knows how to collaborate, and will do everything he can to make any project the absolute best it can be. I cannot recommend him highly enough."— Alexander Blaustein, Sound Artist & Programmer"Hey, remember that time you tried to fight a bear with a sword? My dad still tells everyone that story. I still tell everyone that story."— Sara, Former Roommate, Lifelong Friend

A TRAGEDY SLEEPS in the hiking trails and run-down mills of Western Massachusetts. It lays dormant in the collective folk memory — but not for long. Play as Camlin, a 20-something-year-old college student who begins to hear the sounds of a centuries-old flood through their audio equipment. Read along and make key choices in this sound novel to help Camlin unravel the mystery of the 1874 Mill River Flood.Will you hold the guilty accountable?

The River Runs Through Us is a suspense-horror sound novel about ghosts, capitalism, and manmade disaster. It's set in rustic Western Massachusetts, inspired by my experiences growing up in New England.

SCRIPT EXCERPT #1

[ O, TO DROWN instrumental fading in over the sounds of the flowing stream. Unassuming at first, but creeping nearer. ]When I was a kid, I thought the veins meant I was dying. This heavy, rising panic always welled up in me when I thought about them for too long. Like wearing leather boots and wading into a pool.Gravity pulls you under.—[ A bubbling sound, like being submerged underwater. ]The veins look like maps of rivers. Tributaries scatter from my pulse, running wild and free. Currents of blood and cortisol that can't be held back.My hands shake, and my neck tightens.

SCRIPT EXCERPT #1

[ O, TO DROWN instrumental fading in over the sounds of the flowing stream. Unassuming at first, but creeping nearer. ]When I was a kid, I thought the veins meant I was dying. This heavy, rising panic always welled up in me when I thought about them for too long. Like wearing leather boots and wading into a pool.Gravity pulls you under.—[ A bubbling sound, like being submerged underwater. ]The veins look like maps of rivers. Tributaries scatter from my pulse, running wild and free. Currents of blood and cortisol that can't be held back.My hands shake, and my neck tightens.

SCRIPT EXCERPT #2

"I'm back, Dad!"[ The sound of the kitchen door peeking open. ]—Dad peeks around the corner of the door leading into the kitchen. He's wearing his latest project: a 16-foot scarf made in the image of a fluffy, googly-eyed moth. It's very cozy — I took him to the fabric store and made sure he got the best fabric for his buck. He's a little prone to accepting "good deals" and "special discounts" when he doesn't run them by me first…But that's just how he is. He likes the people at the shop, and doesn't see any reason not to trust them.—"Look at you," Dad chirps. "Grass in your hair, bags under your eyes... did the veins get you?""Do I look twelve years old?""Maybe."—When I was a kid, I thought seeing veins sometimes when I blink meant I was dying. I spent an embarrassing number of late nights on Gurgle worrying about them. Which made me feel worse, but I kept doing searching it up anyway.You know, like…—"am i dying veins in eyes?""help why veins when i blink?""eyes broken help?""how fast does veins in your eyes kill you"...—… variations of that, basically. Like some fucked-up canon played by a tonedeaf orchestra.I knew it was too stupid to ask someone about out loud, so the internet would have to do. And boy, did the internet do — did a great job tenderizing my little eleven-year-old beef brain.Dad finally got it out of me one night, though. He caught me online at three in the morning, curled over my laptop like a goblin with snot running down my nose. He sat me down at the kitchen table and made us both chamomile tea."Whatever it is," he said, "I promise I won't laugh."—At that point, I was so exhausted I just blurted it all out. And guess what? He laughed anyway! What a dick. I said so, but that only made him laugh harder.Maybe I needed that from him, though. Maybe I just needed someone to give me permission to laugh about it.—He told me not to be afraid of the crooked lines in my skull. "They're like maps," he said, "of rivers and their tributaries."He pointed to a poster we've had on our wall for as long as I can remember. I'd heard this whole spiel before, but hearing him say it always calmed me down."These are all the rivers back home. You're right here," he said. His finger traced along the Camlin River. I followed its winding path from Lough Gamhna to Longford in the south. A wandering blue vein along the body of Ireland. "Camlin. My crooked little river."—

TECHNICAL PROCESS

The Kombucham #2 - Unity Fungus Game Jam is run by the creators of a narrative games framework called—you guessed it—Fungus. Over the course of our allotted two weeks to make this game, I had to really buckle in to learn Fungus' infrastructure. This included...

Voilà! Results!Seeing the story come together into scenes that actually worked made all of my learning efforts worthwhile. It's a very small thing, but I'll never forget the rush of euphoria that came with seeing these colorful boats from the local park in a real, functional video game. I hope to never forget these beginnings, and to bring that same joy and dedication to any project I work on in the future.

Blanksword is a Roguelike RPG with strategic turn-based battles, a rich layered story, and a one of a kind brain management system. Enter a land full of dangers as BLANK, an amnesiac wandering Angel, and come to the aid of those that were wronged by God’s cruel law.

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Helmed by IGF-nominated developer Quinn K., Blanksword (henceforth abbreviated to BLSW) is the biggest and most vibrant game I've worked on yet. So far, I have...

As the game is still in production, the work shown here is still a work in progress, and may not reflect the final product. There are also many more things I've written beyond these samples that I can't wait to show off when the time comes!

IN-WORLD DIALOGUE

SCRIPT SAMPLE #1

The Angel of Ties is sprawled out in the Field of Forget-Me-Nots. He looks like he's doing some kind of bizarre snow angel pose among the flowers. He's lounging, twirling the cord of a mobile phone that should not have a cord.Someone else is talking to him from the other end of the line. We only see AOT's end of the conversation. Garbled sounds of chatter can be heard occasionally from the phone.AOT: Yyyyyello, hello! How goes the victory lap? Got time to yap? On the phone? With me?
AOT: Phew. Good, good! When you jump that high up the Ladder, make sure you watch your step.
AOT: … Ohhh, yep, that guy. The guy I'm tracking! Yes. Very diligently. Unblinking.
AOT: Yep, he did come out here a little while ago. Chatted up grandpa. And the kid, I think.
AOT: I-I mean I know! For sure. He did. Listen, champ — let's take a load off, shall we?
AOT: Here's an idea: Y’see the sky from where you are? Look up for me right now. What do you see?
AOT: Correct! Clouds. But what kind of clouds? That's the important part.
AOT: … Well, yeah, they're gray. Obviously.
AOT: Not the color, though. The shapes! For example: I've got a great view of some kinda…
AOT: Maybe a dragon? Oh, nope. That's just the Serpent. Never mind-
AOT: What? Oh, come on, it's fun! Live a little! Ahh… He’s on your- you know. Alright, I see.
AOT: I'll take care of it. You know me: good ol' reliable! Heh. When have I ever let you down?
AOT: Don't answer that.

SCRIPT SAMPLE #2

Automatic cutscene begins upon entering the clearing. Camera pans to ALEC, the de-facto leader of the gang.ALEC: HEY! This is our spot!
BLANK: Wha-?
ALEC: You're treading on our turf, dumbass! Go home!
CODES: Hey, hey, cool it, man. Don't be like that.
ALEC: I ain't coolin' down nothing! Buzz off! Bzzzz!
BERNARD: B-but that's-
ALEC: Dude, shuddup! I'm talkin' to that guy over yonder.
BERNARD: But he's, um, he's, I mean, uh-
ALEC: Just say it!
BERNARD: THAT'S AN ANGEL.
ALEC: …
CODES: …A long pause. The teens aren't sure what to do.CODES: For real?
ALEC: You wanna hang somebody? Fine. I did it. It was all me!
BLANK: Did what?
BERNARD: Nothing! Nothing! We didn't do anything, so please…
BERNARD: Can you, um, go away? Please?—[CHOICE: I'm not going to hurt you.]
ALEC: Yeah, sure. Don't you get sick of lyin' through your teeth? Do you even got teeth?
BLANK: I… think so.
ALEC: Maybe you got some kinda probba-noss-kiss? Like, slurp slurp?
BERNARD: Is he gonna suh-suck our, our brains out?
BLANK: No, no! Trust me, you really need your brains.
ALEC: You callin' me stupid, asshole?
BLANK: No! I'm just saying I would never do that, even if I could.[CHOICE: I am just standing here.]
ALEC: Yeah? Then go stand somewhere's else! What, you gonna report us?
ALEC: We ain't done nothin' wrong! Can't a kid have a drink after a long shift?!
CODES: Bro, can it! <smaller> He ain't supposed to know that!
BERNARD: Listen, guys, if he wants to stay, um, we could just let him?
BERNARD: So we don't, uh, y'know... make him mad?
CODES: Yeahhh, I'm with the 'Nard on this one. Sorry, man.
CODES: Gotta keep 'em happy. I ain't out to lose my head today.
ALEC: Well I'M not sharing my drink with him even if he says please n' thank you.
BLANK: Look, I'm sorry for scaring you. I just need to walk through here.

SCRIPT SAMPLE #3

Automatic cutscene begins upon stepping into The Painter's room. He is holding a bucket and brush, seemingly in the process of painting the floor that BLANK has just walked on. Every time BLANK takes a step in this room, a black footprint appears where he was just standing.The Painter is vibrating slightly, like he's just barely keeping it together.TP: Hi.
BLANK: Hello. What are you up to?
TP: Oh, just. Y'know. Painting the floor. So the mold doesn't show through. Too much.
BLANK: Shouldn't somebody else be in charge of cleaning the mold, though?
TP: HAHA. Well, if His Holiness would send some new management along, that'd be great.
TP: But as it stands, nope! Just lil' old me. And my paint. Which is still drying.
BLANK: (He's under so much stress… maybe I should ask if he needs any help?)—If BLANK interacts with TP before taking 20+ steps in the room...BLANK: Sorry to bother, but you look really worn out. Is there anything I can do to help?
TP: Oh, haha! How generous! Such a reliable, kindly Angel you are.
TP: I'm doing just fine! No problems here. Maybe you have some problems to check on elsewhere?
TP: On a floor that isn't mine? Perhaps?
BLANK: Honestly, most people here are friendly and don't cause trouble. I've got the time, if you need a hand.
TP: Wow, you are really generous! Who knew such Angels existed in His realm? Not I, sir!
TP: How about this: if I need you, I'll holler. But don't wait up! I'm sure you have plenty more important business here.
TP: Away from me.
BLANK: Sure thing. Take care, now!—If the player takes 20+ steps, an automatic cutscene triggers...TP: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. Buddy?
BLANK: Hm? Oh, hi again! What's up?
TP: Ohh, nothing much! Super, super grateful that you've visited. Just. Love it.
TP: Angels that deign to hang out with us Folks, n' all. Blessed be! It's just one teeny little thing.
TP: Would you mind lending your Heavenly ear?
BLANK: It's no trouble at all! Go ahead-
TP: PLEASE STOP WALKING ON MY FLOOR!
BLANK: Eep! I-I'm sorry! It won't happen again!
TP: Thaaaanks.—After seeing the cutscene above, if the player talks to TP again, this exchange follows...TP: Is this a test? Am I being tested by Him right now?
TP: Should I paint it black instead of white? Gray? Ivory? PINK?!—[CHOICE: Ivory, maybe?]
TP: GET OUT.[CHOICE: White is just fine.]
TP: SO I THOUGHT.[CHOICE: Pink, actually!]
BLANK: Pink would really liven up the place.
TP: Oh, would it?
BLANK: Yeah! Maybe a nice seashell, or a warm coral-
TP: GET OUT!

SCRIPT SAMPLE #4

After BLANK dies and respawns in his apartment, he walks outside to find the Angel of Ties smugly waiting for him.AOT: Welly welly well! Look who the dogs dragged back home!
BLANK: You…
AOT: Who, me? Little ol’ me in a tee? Tie?—A dialogue hub menu opens. Choosing the final option will allow players to exit the conversation.[CHOICE: You sent me to get eaten by dogs.]
AOT: Ah! Ahahaha!
AOT: Mm, but you sure look distinctly un-eaten to me, friend! C'mon, what's a little prank among coworkers?
AOT: A little roughhousing won't knock you down from your ever-so-precious spot on the ol' Ladder, I'm sure.
BLANK: The "Ladder"?
AOT: Oh, right! You just hatched like, yesterday! Well, let's wipe some of that egg off your face…
AOT: Jacob's Ladder is one big ol' measuring tape that shows you how far you've fallen from His Grace.
BLANK: Whose grace? Jacob's?
AOT: "Jacob" is more of a... figure of speech.
BLANK: Then who's "He"?
AOT: Oh, no idea. Do I look like a guy who knows things?[CHOICE: What happened…?]
AOT: I’d wager you passed out, and landed back here!
BLANK: … I felt my skull crack open.
AOT: Oh. Did you now? Huh. Well, in that case — you may have died.
AOT: Wow. That's rough, buddy.
BLANK: Am I... Am I in some sort of time loop?
AOT: ...
AOT: Y'know, I hear a lot of bullshit in my line of work. And little buddy?
AOL: That right there was some premium stupid.
AOL: If you were so unbound by time, you wouldn't have kept me waiting so long!
BLANK: You were… waiting for me?
AOL: No.[CHOICE: Forget you.]
AOT: Indeed! Forget your ol' pal... the Angel of Ties!
AOT: Oh, I'll be around. Don't you worry. Look closely, and you'll see 'em:
AOT: The Signs of the Ties!—If the player interacts with AOT again after progressing through the dialogue hub...AOL: Welp, I'll be off; places to do, things to be. Time is money in the textile industry.
AOL: Ta-ta!Despite saying goodbye, he doesn't move from his spot.

TECHNICAL PROCESS

Made in GameMaker, Blanksword uses two specific frameworks for its narrative design: one called Scribble, and one called Gossip 2. In concert, these tools add functionality for creative and expressive effects in our text boxes. For example, the command "[delay,300]" indicates a pause in the text that lasts for 300 milliseconds. We can similarly modulate text scroll speed, position, color, and movement with a variety of bracketed, shorthand keywords.

In terms of my technical responsibilities, I'm tasked with...

All of this to say, BLSW's mechanical narrative structure challenges me to think deeper about how games writing has its own unique conventions, as with any other storytelling medium. It's easy to say as much—well, duh, of course games have their own conventions!—but to really, tangibly feel how much every comma, every letter, and every artfully-placed pause impacts the player experience is something truly special.One recurring phrase in our writer's room is the "Button Press Rule". It's a small, simple idea that can make or break an entire story: every time you add another text box, the player presses a button one more time.

Scene written by another team member that includes this brilliant and concise text box. To me, this really exemplifies a strong grasp of our "Button Press Rule"; all you need here is one line that hits like a truck.

This tiny adage completely changed my approach to writing game scripts, because it trained me to make every text box count — how long am I asking someone to stand there and hit continue outside of a cutscene? Does the scene I'm working on need this many or this few button presses? Can I afford to add one more or one less text box, given the player expectations in this context? How can the mood and intent of a scene be expressed better with this principle in mind?Every new facet of game writing that I learn from BLSW inspires and excites me. I hope to continue growing alongside any future project I work on.

OTHER PUBLICATIONS

Writing has always been a part of my life. Before writing for games, I've worked as both a journalist and a grant writer. Below are some of the articles I've written that best represent how I discuss and understand games as a medium.For a full list of my online publications, visit my Linktree here!

Games In Our Absence
— Uppercut Crit, October 5, 2022.Geometric Realities: Cosmic and Symbolic Shapes in Games
— Fanbyte, June 22, 2022.Having a gay old time: the significance of older queer men through video games
— Gayming Magazine, May 6, 2022.

"This mod adds 10 mouse friends doing various activities throughout Cindersap Forest."
- Mod Author, DolphinIsNotaFish

IN-WORLD DIALOGUE

FEEDBACK EXCERPT #1

Most of my work on the project consisted of communicating with the mod's author, providing feedback on dialogue and cutscene scripts and making careful edits to support the end-vision of a scene. Some examples of notes I'd taken and sent are as follows:

FEEDBACK EXCERPT #2