Guys, kindly reject the evidence of your eyes and ears.

This right here? NOT a vending machine. I know it looks like one, sounds like one, and works like one, but it isn’t. It’s obviously a TRADE DISPENSER! It’s TOTALLY DIFFERENT! So, when I write out “trade dispenser,” you’re NOT going to think about vending machines at all. The thought will flit so far from your mind that it’ll evaporate into nothingness.

So, yes, just to clarify, this is our shopping mechanic.

Look, I’m 100% about to patronize you by elucidating how a shop in a video game works. It’ll be painful, but we’ll get through it. You get money, you buy stuff (materials for crafting, healing items, etc.), and you sell stuff to get more money. Simple.

There. Easy. And now we can get to the juicy stuff!

The trade dispenser was an interesting addition to our Vertical Slice, mostly because it wasn’t planned to be included from the beginning. This mechanic was a direct request from the grand CEO of AfroDuck Studios, as he felt getting in a shopping system was important to showing off ALL the features of the game to potential publishers. This, of course, left us with a question:

How do we place a shopping mechanic inside a factory that’s been abandoned for over 100 years?

Our first idea was to have some sort of trader or market worker inside the factory, but we quickly denied it when we realized we’d have to create art assets and animations for an entirely new character. That, and another character would necessitate even more dialogue—which I felt there was already an excess of—since it would be particularly bizarre for Astraia and Belles to ignore the weird, smelly person selling junk in a dusty, decrepit factory.

This was followed up by concepting something like a vending machine (but definitely ISN’T), since, with that, all we needed was a model, and we could splat down that shop anywhere.

The machine’s function came before its narrative, in this instance, leading to Kwesi (our project director) and I having to barf out narrative justifications for its inclusion. But also, more importantly, we had to determine how it’s possible to sell to a vending machine.

Early into the development of the Vertical Slice, it was decided that the Abandoned Factory was a place where the spirits of workers were constantly shattered, saddled by ever-changing output requirements and deadlines. In that case, it would make a lot of sense that there would be no lunch breaks, causing the leaders to come up with the perfect, cheapest, most efficient solution: replace lunch breaks with these machines.

Anything inside one of these bad boys could be consumed in less than 5 minutes, giving the employees more time to work. But this also means that any sustenance workers get, they pay for. And, for those poor workers who have no funds to use, that’s a-okay; the dismantler on the machine will break down anything into its most basic components and spit out some Zedi as thanks.

This led us to the machine’s name, which was crucial to get correct. Some suggestions I had were “Factory Refreshments,” “Distribution Machine,” and “Vendor,” but none of them felt right. This led us to think more in line with African culture, and the importance of trade for the economy. This is where the “trade” half of the name originated. But “Trader” didn’t feel right either; it sounded too humanistic, too personable for the sterile factory. That was when “dispenser” was also decided upon. There’s a certain oppressive, utilitarian connotation to the word that made it perfect. Thus, “trade dispenser.”

These are the weeds we constantly fight. It’s a constant, unwinnable battle.

And that’s the trade dispenser, and our shopping mechanic! See how it isn’t a vending machine? No? Then maybe get a little more imaginative.

It’s Not a Vending Machine: the Vending Machine Blog