Jam 7 Entries

What’s up gamers. We did a jam thing again and people made stuff. Here is that stuff (around the theme “False Sun”)

This post isn’t late, you’re just late to reading it. Don’t check the date on this post.

False Son

kinda grumpy that this theme won because there wasn’t anywhere to really take it than “What if sun,,,,, but evil?????”

So like imagine if our sun wasn’t our sun. If the true light god gave us at the start of seven days was always supposed to light the entire earth, but what we got left with was just a more palatable version of the true son.

Making sol some king of,,,, false son??????

- Prompto

Looming Supernova

- @glitchcade

False Sun: A Short Story

“Sunset of a Lifetime” is by far the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever purchased. And I can say that, I’ve purchased a lot of art over the years. The piece is simple, a sunset, nearly complete, over a sandy beach. The sun has a warm quality to it, almost peachy, surrounded by a streaking gradient of reds, oranges, and the dark colors of the encroaching night.
I’ve hung the piece above my fireplace. Something about the hot glow of the flames creates a beautiful effect, the colors seeming to dance and drip and shift across the piece. I find my gaze traveling to the piece more and more each day. In these cold winter days, I spend an excess of time at the fireplace, desperately trying to keep warm. Maybe I’m coming down with a cold or a fever but the more time I spend near the fireplace, the more nausea I experience. Oh well, the winter will pass.
I wish I had gotten this painting sooner. The winters have been harder as a widower. I’m not sure what it is about the cold, but I feel like I can barely leave the house. Without my dearest Emily Mary, all I do these days is just stare at Sunset of a Lifetime and honestly, it comforts me, soothes me into a nauseous sort of bliss. I wish I knew more about it. I’ve realized I don’t know anything about the artist or even when it was made, I just bought it on a whim. Flea markets bring out the most impulsive sides of everyone.
In the middle of the night, I awake to a crackling sound. The sound of a crackling fire. At first I sigh happily, my favorite winter sound but something keeps me from falling back asleep. This fever of mine, it won’t leave me alone. Eyes squinted, I peek out around me at the hearth. No wonder the fire woke me, the fire is not contained. It creeps out beyond the brick and stone, tickling the base of my chair, climbing up the walls. God, those 70’s wood-paneled walls. I always said I would change them. My eyes jump suddenly to the area above the mantel where the flames have taken over. It can’t be…
Leaping from my chair, I cough my way through the smoke to search for my beloved. I find her, but she is not the same. A sickly smell rises from the fiery surface, the same one I smell in my fits of nausea. I’ve never looked closely at it. The colors are a deeper red than I remember, more viscous. I watch as they melt down the canvas, towards the sun. The sun seems to peel away. Peel? Paint peels, sure, but not in one big piece like this, not just the central piece. I gently pinch it, desperately holding on to any chance to save this piece, the only piece I’ve ever truly loved, the piece that saved me from the grief of my Emily Mary. Between my fingers, it feels… familiar. Smooth, leathery, and slightly warm from the fire. This is no painting. This is, no, was my Emily Mary.

A story of dealing with grief through consumerism

- Hope @sillyspero (Instagram)

Thank ya’ll for participating! I always enjoy seeing what everyone creates. I’ll have a devlog coming in the near future so stay tuned…