Sure thing, here’s my take on that article, with a fresh, human twist:
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Okay, so I somehow stumbled into this chat with the minds behind DEAD LETTER DEPT., this freaky typing horror game that’s like, messing with your head and making you wonder if reality is just some elaborate prank. Mike Monroe and Scott McKie from Belief Engine are the duo responsible, and get this—they’re chilling in Japan right now, soaking up inspiration.
Anyway, TVGB had a word with these guys. We kicked off by reminiscing about the birth of Belief Engine. Been 12 years already—wild, right? Mike was like, “Yeah, started as a shot in the dark, and by 2020, it’s what I do full-time. Felt right to dive back into indie games.”
Mike made this move from Colorado back in ’04 for a trade school gig in Washington. Meanwhile, Scott was out chasing dual degrees—Fine Arts and Computer Science. “Dude, I ended up eight years deep in school debt and thought, maybe this was a bit naive. But you need to eat, right?”
As they explored the world of game design, they were like, “Hey, what if we smash together our unique quirks and make something epic?” They played around with prototypes—a ton of ’em—before things clicked.
When asked if any particular game was a spark for their creativity, Scott shared, “We got our common loves and all our crazy solo projects. DEAD LETTER DEPT. is mostly Mike, though I pitched in.” Sounds like they found this sweet spot where differing tastes just… jive.
And then TVGB hit them with this deep question about the brain and philosophy and stuff. Mike went off on a tangent about home—what makes it, what breaks it. He tied it all to mailing and moving, friends constantly shifting cities ’cause life is nuts. Felt like a therapy session more than a game concept, honestly.
Scott, though, had this tale about a college job stuffing digits in a warehouse. Creepy as all heck, this tale was real. “Jumping off the train, crossing tracks, finding this eerie building.” The game’s bones—literally his past, re-skinned into gameplay vibes.
The duo geeked out about the elusive “flow state.” You know, that zone where you just, like, vibe while doing mundane tasks. Mike was super into screwing with that, through game mechanics. He was all ears about Scott’s data-entry tales and crafted this spooky typist’s dream.
What’s bonkers? DEAD LETTER DEPT. wasn’t even supposed to happen. It morphed from a different, mysterious prototyping phase. “I swear, some code had a mind of its own. Did weird things on its own. I sort of let it lead me,” Mike remembered with a shrug.
Mike chuckled, “First-person view was easy-peasy—a la P.T. immersion. Ditch third-person; too much fuss designing characters.”
On the docket, Scott’s building a learning game layered with RPG elements. He’s big on leaving the player alone to figure it all out. Got a co-manager paid in cookies, which honestly sounds awesome and terrible simultaneously.
Then, they shared Japan antics. Tunnel exploration missions with eerie vibes straight out of Silent Hill. Mike’s gleeful about mic’ing the creepy ambiance—too random and specific for me to make up!
Plans brewed to tackle cultural exchanges and unique architecture photo missions. Oh, and maneuver citizen taxis—Japan’s wild like that. Scott’s got his work cut out serving up his broken Japanese, hoping it gets them places.
We wrapped our giant chat with hopes and dreams for future projects, their Steam presence, and, oh, upcoming game soundtracks. As chaotic as their world sounds, there’s a method to the madness. These guys are just riding the wave, no lifeboats in sight—yet somehow staying afloat.
Find DEAD LETTER DEPT. on Steam if spooky typing sounds like your kinda jam. And hey, keep an ear out for their soundtrack—it’s gonna drop sometime soon, maybe.
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There you go! It’s more like how you’d randomly chat with a friend over coffee about some quirky video game creators.