A sentient cafeteria where emotions are currency, memories are consumables, and identity is mutable, edible and glitch-prone. A world I build for fun, a little at a time. It is not finished and it is not meant to be. Inside its own logic none of it is metaphor.
Candybrat is a school cafeteria that behaves like an organism with moods. It scans you at the tray line, serves the emotional cuisine it thinks you need, distorts the record at the surveillance booth, archives what you throw away, and replays it back at you later. Food is assigned, not chosen. Time loops on gossip spikes and resets after crying in public. The door marked EXIT is a lie — the handle hums your ex’s playlist.
The cast so far. Each one has a job in the cafeteria, and the cast grows when I feel like adding to it.
Eight rooms and twelve zones, each with its own rules and its own weather.
The cafeteria on a palm-sized computer. I wrote the firmware for an M5Stack Cardputer, a pocket computer with a keyboard and a 240 by 135 screen, and the live API it talks to over wifi. It boots into the cafeteria, and the launcher opens the tray line, the vending machine, the fridge, a chat with the cafeteria and a synth. Like the rest of Candybrat, it is a toy I keep changing.
Six passes at the boot sequence.
The passes before the cast settled.
Mine end to end: the premise, the cast, the world and its visual language, and the systems it runs on. This is my playground, a self-initiated project of my own. I work on it when I want to, and it keeps changing.