Original Creations, Original Characters, Original Cringe
Headworld: The Drifting
Once an under-researched and over-funded pet project of a billionaire somewhere in outer space, the thriving planet of Vaanedorh was to be transformed into the rich man's hunting getaway. Lush with useless alien fauna but devoid of the impending legal tangle that is sapient life, it was the perfect pick. Shame that by the time the Terran species chosen for trophy hunting were well enough settled on the alien planet, interest had moved on. The system that Vaanedorh orbits in did not prove to be a lucrative tourist destination. And now, the planet rests, all but forgotten, housing only a few research stations that see human visitors maybe every once in a few years, and of course, the now thousands of invasive Terran animals.
The ecosystem is forever changed, and so are the once-familiar Terran species. Meet the descendants of grey wolves (Canis lupus), Harris's hawks (Parabuteo unicinctus), fallow deer (Dama dama), European rabbits (Oryctolagus cuniculus), and feral domestic rock doves (Columba livia domestica). Witness their stories.
Headworld: Glass Baubles
A world where planets float untethered, suspended in an endless void, wrapped in glass orbs. Life exists on living planets thanks to the magic radiating from their core - once their magic runs out, so does the time of life upon their surface. But until then, they can thrive for countless lifetimes of their inhabitants. World's grow in their isolated, celestial terrariums, vibrant and endlessly diverse.
But the higher you go, the farther away from the planet's core, the harder it is to reach and to exist. And yet, by some impossibility, unknown and unseen to the inhabitants of the planet Cube lives on, things walk on the other side of the glass. They live. They hunt.
And sometimes, they fall.
Headworld: Between Worlds
A place that is nowhere. Time that holds no consequence. Living beings who don't end in death. The endless halls of Over There were not build with human comprehension in mind, and in fact not built at all. They simply are. Without reason and without wondering. An endless house, with rooms ranging anywhere from cramped pantries and mice-crawlspaces to open sky where there should be ceiling and dining rooms claimed by saltwater. And more. Endlessly, confusingly more.
They're populated by a variety of beings and rules unified by nothing besides being strange. Demons and dreamwalkers, cosmic pocket lint, giant beasts that float for eons in the sky, content in hibernation. Here is nothing and everything.
Some inhabitants of this world are rather fond of ours. Some visit sometimes. Some observe, some touch, some drift across the boundary between Over There and our world without taking notice. Uncohesive and oddly familiar.