你不用理发就能出门的原因是...你是个秃子。Nepenthe的创作灵感来源于Earthbound,Undertale以及其他的ARPG游戏。游戏画面乃手绘而成,内容则涵盖了千奇百怪的梗和存在主义所带来的恐惧。以及无数的饼干。
全部评测:
好评 (24) - 24 篇用户的游戏评测中有 100% 为好评。
发行日期:
2018年5月17日
开发商:
发行商:

想要将这件物品添加至您的愿望单、关注它或标记为不感兴趣,请先登录

不支持简体中文

本产品尚未对您目前所在的地区语言提供支持。在购买请先行确认目前所支持的语言。

购买 Nepenthe

购买 The Surreal RPG Collection 捆绑包 (?)

包含 2 件物品: Nepenthe, The Endless Empty

 

最新更新 查看所有(23)

1月16日

Preview of what's to come...

I'm close now. Very close...

If you have no idea what's going on, that's totally understandable, considering I'm being cryptic and spooky and all that jazz. Rest assured that I'm not trolling you—despite the ridiculously long amount of time this is taking, everything will eventually come together. I'm hoping for a big announcement in this or the next month, but I can't promise it. Until then, if you want to support what's coming (which will be totally free if you already own Nepenthe, btw), please consider leaving a review on Steam.

Cookie Monster wants your critique, and can you really say no to that face?

Have a good one!
From your friendly neighborhood game developer,
Yitz
2 条留言 了解更多

1月5日

A random essay I wrote that I'm putting here because I can

Imagine, if you will, a baked potato. It’s pretty normal as far as baked potatoes go: brown, slightly mushy, and better with salt. There is only one thing that makes this baked potato unique—it’s 30 times the size of our sun. Obviously, this presents some problems for the hungry scientist. For one thing, every portion of the potato is gravitationally pulled towards every other portion of the potato. The portions on the outside are pulled toward the center, since that is where the most potato parts lie. It quickly becomes an almost perfect sphere, any irregularities crushed to the ground. Those in the center are pulled outwards in all directions equally, resulting in no overall movement. There is thus tremendous pressure exerted on the center of the potato by its own gravitational pull. AT this point, the core is squeezed to the point where its very atoms collide, creating enormous energy. The center explodes. The explosive force of matter and energy pushes outward, balancing the gravity pushing inward. The potato reaches an uneasy equilibrium: constantly exploding and imploding at the same time; a floating ball of fire in space. We have successfully baked our potato.

For the next few million years, our giant baking potato acts like a giant fusion reactor. It burns the elements in its core, producing tremendous force to counteract the constant pull of gravity. Simpler elements collide to form heaver ones, so hydrogen is the first to go. The potato eventually runs out of that, and gravity makes its move. The center compresses further, until it’s hot enough to fuse the next element up, helium. Being a potato, there isn’t much of that, and so the fusion cycle continues for a while. When it reaches iron, a strange thing happens: it isn’t fused. Iron is an incredibly stable element, and the amount of energy required to turn it into something heavier is beyond even our potato’s power. As the other elements are used up, eventually only iron is left; A perfect giant sphere of it at the very core.

Something tragic and beautiful happens then. Our potato has been burning for millions of years, and it’s all about to end. The potato has no energy left. Gravity wins. It pushes inward, and this time there is no fusion to stop it. It pushes the elements, the atoms, brings even the electrons together—a single moment and that which makes up everything touches, kisses, hugs each other for the first and last time—and keeps on pushing. The core becomes a point. Just a dot, with no width or depth or space. It’s only gravity now. The gravity of a former potato thirty times the size of the sun, all in a space so small it can hardly be called a space. The outer layers of the potato are brushed away into the cosmos by the aftershock of the event, to be forgotten among the stars. Observers far away might note an explosion in deep space, then they too will turn their attention elsewhere. No one sees what’s left behind.
The gravity of that single point which lies there is so intense that nothing can escape for one hundred miles away. Nothing. Not even light itself, the fastest possible thing in the universe. Think about that: a space the size of Honolulu, in which anything that enters never leaves. It was a potato once, and now it’s a hole in space itself. A black hole, if you will.

Our former potato—now black hole—still has close to the same mass it started off with. It’s in a smaller area, but the stuff it was made of is still there, in some form. Occasionally, a nebula or a star may cross its path, and will be swallowed by the black hole. What made up the star will be added to what made up our potato, indistinguishable in every way. As the mass increases, so will the size of its gravitational pull. The point at which even light itself cannot escape—called the event horizon—grows larger. As for the inside—there is no way to know what is happening inside. Nothing can ever come back to tell us. All we know now is that the black hole consumes, and grows, and eats, and grows.
But one day the stars will die.
Nebulae will disperse.
Galaxies will crumble away.

The universe will grow old one day, and our black hole will still be there. Eons will pass, and nobody will be there to watch the world’s clock tick, tick, tick; Our black hole will still be there. Humanity will become a distant memory, and the concept of memory itself will be forgotten—Our black hole will still be there. It will still be there, when everything else has reached its end.

H.P. Lovecraft once said that “with strange aeons even death may die,” and perhaps he was right. Black holes represent a sort of cosmic death, and black holes themselves will someday die. No one will be there to witness it, but space itself—the shifting quantum foam that softly bubbles everywhere—will take its due. At all times—even now—particles are created out of the foam, both of matter and its twin, antimatter. The two are born, then touch, then annihilate each other. This dance of death takes place all around us, every second of every day. We don’t notice it, since we don’t have to: The particles are gone as soon as they appear, leaving no net energy behind. Around a black hole however, things are different. If the particles appear near the event horizon, one may fall in, while the other escapes. The one that escapes must by definition have an incredible amount of energy, in order to flee the gravity well. Since both particles brought together produce zero net energy, the one that fell into the black hole must have negative energy. Einstein famously showed that energy can be converted to mass, so in some sense the black hole just lost mass. It shrunk.

Over an unimaginable length of time, this shrinking by quantum radiation—Hawking radiation, as it is called— will become noticeable. The particles involved are among the smallest known, so for a practical eternity they have little effect. Of course, we have forever to wait. One day the last star will die, and the only source of energy left will be hawking radiation. If there is anyone left alive, they will have to live off of its power, scant though that may be.
As the black hole gets smaller, the curve of the event horizon becomes more pronounced. This makes it easier for quantum particles to diverge, since the gravitational pull will be significantly different depending on how close to the horizon they are. The hawking radiation thus becomes stronger, and the black hole shrinks faster. Our black hole—once a giant potato the size of thirty suns— will die in an explosion of hawking radiation, millions of megatons flowing from an event horizon the size of a proton.

Our potato will be the dying light of a black universe.

Now that’s food for thought.



Further reading:

https://www.livescience.com/39620-how-big-is-solar-system.html
https://www.aanda.org/articles/aa/pdf/2013/06/aa20920-12.pdf
https://arxiv.org/abs/1511.08221
http://www.slate.com/blogs/quora/2013/11/12/what_would_the_death_of_a_black_hole_look_like.html

PS: Wow, I'm impressed you read all that! If you liked it, well, thanks I guess :3
If you're confused, good. The plan is working. MWAH HA HA HA!
-Yitz
2 条留言 了解更多

评测

“每一处角落都有其魅力...幽默风趣,戳到笑点。”
Letter grade: A – The Zerathulu View

“这款颜色鲜艳的游戏,让我回想起了小时候做作业那会,在作业本的空白处涂涂抹抹的时光。”
indie Games+

“可谓精彩纷呈...真是一款有趣而又复杂的RPG游戏啊。独特的音乐和美术构成了这个游戏的无数精彩时刻”
8/10 – DigitalChumps

关于这款游戏

苏醒的时候,你什么都记不起来了。但你的前程似锦!

Nepenthe是一款手绘风格的RPG,同时又有着些许幽默带来的恐惧感。你将扮演一名神秘而且丧失记忆的秃头男子,置身于一个名叫Carithia的诡异世界中。是的,你没看错。途中你会遇到一些很有礼貌的怪物,你可以和他们战个痛快,或是屈服于自尊心。总之,好好体验史诗级别的弹幕战斗吧。

绝对是一款优雅的游戏

Nepenthe的艺术风格十分幼稚童真,定能让你一见钟情,不然你就把电脑丢掉吧。开发者可是不会为此买单的哦,他还诚恳建议你能边喝菊花茶边畅玩这款佳作。同时说道:“花茶真暖心啊,你应该试试的。”接着,他愣了一会,又说:“我刚说了啥啊?本该是介绍游戏才对。”

主要是为正常人而设计出来的游戏

为了最大限度地丰富可玩性,游戏总共有三个结局和数不胜数的支线。要是两个人共用一台电脑的话就尴尬了。还请相信我的话。游戏中几乎所有怪物都有活路可走,此举增加了挑战性,也弱化了暴力元素。同样,你也可以大杀四方——别担心,你个杀人狂!无论你是喜欢冷笑话亦或是惨无人道的水刑,Nepenthe就是为你准备的。

Nepenthe专为休闲和硬核玩家设计。

共有两种模式:“冒险模式”和“故事模式”。你大可按照你的游玩风格进行选择。
冒险模式是弹幕的狂欢。随着游戏进度的推进,难度会不断提高。
故事模式则是简单的一键操作,专为享受故事,轻松游玩的玩家准备。
游玩过程中,尽情享受惊艳的手绘艺术吧。


加入我们的队伍,共同凝视Orb的存在。

系统需求

Windows
Mac OS X
SteamOS + Linux
    最低配置:
    • 操作系统: anything made in the last decade
    • 处理器: one that works
    • 内存: 490 MB RAM
    • 图形: a toaster - you really shouldn't have trouble
    • 声卡: yes.
    • 附注事项: make sure your computer is on
    最低配置:
    • 操作系统: anything your grandmother didn't own when she was a kid
    • 处理器: needs to exist
    • 内存: 480 MB RAM
    • 图形: not too gory, kids play this
    • 声卡: one that makes sound
    • 附注事项: remember that you are a wonderful person and I love you
    最低配置:
    • 操作系统: anything made in the last decade
    • 处理器: A small rock covered in tin foil should do
    • 内存: 500 MB RAM
    • 图形: a sink - this is an RPG Maker game for goodness' sake
    • 声卡: yee
    • 附注事项: Why are you gaming on Linux?

鉴赏家点评

17 名鉴赏家评测了这款产品。点击这里阅读。

消费者评测

检测到大量评测:
排除  或  只查看
评测结果


购得方式


语言


日期范围
要查看某个日期范围内的评测,请在上方图表中点击并拖动选定的范围或是点击某特定时间柱。

显示图表



显示:
测试版评测 新推出!
启用后,评测会按照新的价值分数排序。阅读这篇博文以了解详情。
显示图表
 
隐藏图表
 
筛选条件
测试版评测价值系统已启用
无其他评测符合上述筛选条件
调整上方筛选条件以查看其它评测
加载评测中…