Alright, let’s dive into the wild, tangled world of game writing. Imagine this: you’re struggling at an ungodly hour, maybe 3 a.m., wrestling with words that don’t want to play nice — sounds chaotic? Totally is. Writing a book? Easier. One person, one story. Movies? Shorter scripts (unless you’re Scorsese). But a video game? Buckle up, it’s a beast. Hours of dialogue, stretching across characters and plotlines, often crafted by a swarm of writers. Chaos can spark genius when you’re up against the clock, chucking words at a digital wall. Results? Sometimes brilliant.
Enter Clair Obscur, buzzing with its nifty French flair. But let’s highlight Esquie. Especially his campfire chat about François with Verso. François, apparently, went from “Wheeee!” to “Whooo.” Talk about a mood swing! Esquie, in a hilarious ramble, lets players explore whee/woo vibes through dialogue choices. Silly? Absolutely.
Svedberg-Yen, one of the brains behind this, laughs about the 3 a.m. creation streak. “I needed dialogues for Esquie, and bam, there it was!” Clair Obscur isn’t small fry. We’re talking an 800-page script — not even counting non-player chatter and those mountains of lore. Her muse? Everything. Anything. Monoco, a floating gestral, is her dog. Random haircuts inspired Monoco’s chat with Verso about being an “overgrown mop.” True story — she even called her dog that.
Now, that “whee whoo” bit? A sleepy concoction that just clicked. “I wanted to tackle big themes — joy, grief. But words? Nada. So I went for the wheeeee!” recalls Svedberg-Yen. Real fantasy writing, if that’s a thing, needs to feel genuine, even if sprinkled with nonsense. Because, let’s face it, life is a mixed bag of serious and silly. “Am I out there with my ideas? Probably. But when I’m lost for words, I chase down what I feel and spill it onto the script. That’s as raw as it gets.” And somehow, it works!