Fontemon is amusing, free, and completely contained inside a 970 kilobyte text style. It’s unfathomable.
I just went through thirty minutes playing an interesting, pick your-experience variation of Pokémon that was worked inside a text style. It is anything but a simple idea to see, so I’ll attempt to clarify. Regularly, when you hit the ‘a’ key on your console, it makes ‘a’ show up on the screen. That ‘a’ will be a glyph, and it appears to be unique relying upon the textual style you’re utilizing. In wingdings, for instance, squeezing ‘a’ types this: ♋︎.
In Fontemon.otf, composing ‘a’ doesn’t make a letter show up. It plays Pokémon (all things considered, a short, exceptionally sharp Pokémon spoof, yet close enough).
“I envision the normal english speaker thinks a text style is something like this: You type a key… [and] the letter shows up on the screen,” composes Michael Mulet, who made text style/game Fontemon. “Yet, textual styles can accomplish such a great deal more. Much more.”
In a post on Github, Mulet separates how Fontemon (and text styles themselves) work. The abbreviated form is that in open sort, a famous text style design, there are in reality a great deal of approaches to draw the letters, otherwise known as glyphs, that show up on your screen. They don’t need to be letters. At the most fundamental level, you compose code that figures out where to draw pixels on the screen, and Mulet controlled that to make full pictures, as Pokémon doing fight. Each time you press a key you advance to another picture, and by hanging together heaps of them, Fontemon takes on such a flip book quality. The quicker you type, the quicker your “framerate.”
Each and every edge in Fontemon—every one of them 4,696—is its own individual glyph, simply a considerably more great one than the letter ‘a.’ To make sensibly itemized designs Mulet mixed dark and white by drawing half-size dark pixels—the text style delivered will average the dark half with the white half to create dim. You can peruse more about how it functions in Mulet’s Github post, yet the game is amazing regardless of whether you don’t have the foggiest idea why pounding irregular keys on your console makes it work.
I had the option to introduce Fontemon in Windows and get it to appear in LibreOffice, however the designing was somewhat wonky. It’s most effectively played in the program window Mulet made, however in case you’re resolved, he shows it’s feasible to play on your work area, as well on the off chance that you download the text style.
While generally straight, Fontemon routinely drives you to settle on decisions by composing a particular letter, ordinarily to pick which assault to use in fight. Each assault is silly and a few made me roar with laughter. There’s no genuine system here—simply settling on decisions and afterward seeing the outcomes work out funnyly. Take this fight against the double danger of Sans-Scareif and Chiller, when I inaccurately decided to utilize my leaf assault: Verdanta utilizes LEA… stand by where did it go? It’s behind you! AAAAAH! AAAAH! Aaa… ”
In any case, that is OK, since you can just hit delete a couple of times to erase the letters you composed—recollect, each letter is propelling the game by a solitary screen—and return to pick an alternate assault. On the off chance that you truly need to detonate your cerebrum, return to any point in the arrangement of letters you’ve composed and embed another one to out of nowhere get the game starting there. It resembles time travel.
The entire game is truly amusing. It’s set in the known Pokémon-hefty province of Minnesota, for certain territorial jokes I didn’t get and a great deal of text style jokes I loved, two of the starter Fontemon being named Papyromaniac and Verdanta.
Without ruining anything, there’s a hint of Frog Fractions in here, as well. The consummation I got, going down what I thought was a straight way, isn’t the one and only one.
Fontemon would be a great method to go through thirty minutes regardless of whether it wasn’t, unimaginably, worked inside a text style. Yet, it is, and realizing that while you’re playing it is quite astounding.
“I’ve generally told my companions this: ‘On the off chance that you need to make a game, make a game. On the off chance that you need to make a game motor, make a game motor. However, never at any point, make a game motor to make your game!'” Mulet composed on Github, clarifying that composing your own game motor prompts the perpetual allurement of fixing and improving things instead of simply making a game.
I’m happy he didn’t follow his own recommendation and made Fontemon on the grounds that, as he says: “I needed to disrupt my own guidelines on the grounds that there are in a real sense no other textual style game motors in presence.”