Life is Strange: Better Then (Animation/Audiobook project)
Project Overview
Better Then is a Life is Strange fan-fiction written by Israel Blargh. This project aims to bring its story to life in the form of a 3D animated short-film. Once we record and release the story in audiobook form we'll proceed to animate the story in Source Filmmaker. Read more about the project here.
Plot Synopsis
Chloe has been dead for five months, and Max can no longer live with the choice she made. She's tried to go back, but her powers are gone. Or are they just dormant? Could she trigger them again with the right motivation? She can only think of one way to find out.
Drama/Thriller with time-traveling mind twisters and tons of Pricefield. Inspired by Koethe and his awesome music.
What do we need?
Better Then features a cast of both recurring roles and brand new characters that require a voice. If you're able to do a good character impression or think you sound like one our original characters then we'd love to hear from you!
Discord: https://discord.gg/ju4sUAV
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Waves crashed against the cliffside below, beating incessantly on foaming surf and bare rock. It was peaceful: the scent of the sea, the breeze and birdsong, the nascent warmth of the sun at her back. And yet the peace was only skin-deep.
It was so chilling, the matter-of-fact way he talked about it. The chance that he might be wrong simply didn't exist. She didn’t believe it’s true—couldn't believe it’s true—but she did believe in the sincerity of his conviction.
Pain, and sorrow, and despair, withdrawn, forsaken. It felt as if it would tear her apart any moment. She grabbed her own arm at the wrist as if that would somehow help. She was shaking, pulling everything she had from every corner within herself just to keep it going—but she could hardly keep her mind in one piece, let alone lord over this wild torrent shattering her thoughts.
Max is a shy young woman, preferring to observe people from a distance or through the lens of her camera, as opposed to interacting with them face to face. Time traveller. She is doing everything within her power to save the love of her life; Chloe Price.
Ready for the moshpit, Shaka brah.
I turn to him again. "I've thought about that a lot, you know. Really beat myself up over it. But...in the end, the truth is that I really couldn't. I mean..." I tip my chin at the table where his parents are finishing their meal. "I don't know your family, but you seem close. Look at them, and say you could let someone murder them in front of you to prevent that storm.
I thump the goddamn fucking mirror, nearly collapsing against it. “Fuck you! You fucking—”
The jolt that comes through the bracelet turns my cries into sobs.
Owner of the Prescott Foundation. Nathan Prescott's father. Cold and calculating. Formal manner of speech. Attempts to track down Max and Chloe in the wake of the storm.
Miss Caulfield. I believe this conversation is long overdue.
Dianne does love to indulge in theatrics, however. I’m of more...pragmatic inclinations.
It’s in your best interest to cooperate with me, Miss Caulfield. We will resort to more invasive methods, otherwise.
Older member of the Prescott Family, around forty-years-old. Telepathic mastermind. Patient, kindly tone. Formal manner of speech.
We’re not in private, dear. Address me properly.
See the cup of water? There’s a reason it’s not made of glass. After enough retreads you’d have become desperate enough to shatter it with your teeth, and then you’d have used the blood to lubricate your hand enough for it to pass through, broken bones and all. And then we all die, of course.
You don’t know what you’ve done. (She sputters) You’ll lose everything in the end, this will cost you everything. And your precious Chloe, she’ll fear you—she’ll never accept the monster you’ve become. Your life will be buried under a mountain of lies and in the end all the suffering...the suffering will be for nothing, unless...unless—
A telepathic orphan adopted by the Prescott Family. Sadistic. Alexis takes pleasure in serving the Prescotts and is willing to die for them. Youthful voice.
Okay, okay, let me stop you right there. I will cut you, Maxine.
Come on, hey, I already told you it’s pointless to try and talk me out of it. In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret right now: I’m kind of fucked up in the head. I’m aware of it, you know? I own it. Kinda like Dexter? Have you ever watched Dexter?
How about a superhero scar? You fancy yourself a superhero, right? I can give you one that goes across your brow and the nose bridge, like this. Or vertically down your eyebrow and across the eye, like a badass pirate. Don’t worry, I’ll only give you cool ones where people can see. Disfiguring such a pretty face would be gross.
World weary Scottish thirty-something woman. Works under the Prescotts but is secretly desperate for a chance at freedom. May or may not be helping Max and Chloe. Strong accent.
Let it go she says! How I'd love to let it go, darling—it was supposed to be over by now, and you didn't even give me a good reason! I've a mind to say it was pure shite, she was not sick; if she got sick then I am the sodding Queen of England! Teach me to trust a wee pair of middle schoolers, it does.
I don't care about your sodding apology! It was supposed to be over now, but here I am still, trapped between a tyrant and a ditzy bint that can't hold up her side of a bargain.
Not even remotely, princess. That's the rub, innit? You actually believe as much. I've never met someone so capable of self-delusion, you're downright precious.
One of the security guards hired by Sean Prescott to patrol his mansion. Fierce and feisty. Just doing her job.
I don't give a shit who you are or what you want, you can take your threats and shove them up your ass.
Sure. It's all part of standard training. We've superpowers of our own; backup will fly in any moment now. (Sarcasm)
If you had been 'watching for some time,' you'd know I'm not a fucking mercenary. What kind of moron would hire a turncoat, anyway? It's setting yourself up for betrayal. What are you people really up to?
Raymond does his best to fit in socially, even if it means giving into peer pressure. A mamma's boy at heart.
I, uh...it's Raymond. Uh, Ray. I'm Ray.
I wanted to apologize! I didn't even want to hang out with those guys, and— (lowers voice) I hate drinking, anyway. That stuff tastes like piss.
Look, can you please just tell me how you did that? I've been freaking out so much, those idiots keep saying there was something in the drinks, but that's not how mass hallucinations happen, I know what I saw, and it just doesn't make sense!
Sean Prescott's private goons, paid to guard the Prescott Manor complex. It's nothing personal, they're just doing their job.
Knuckles, are you there or not? Don't make me come in to find you dozed off again. Over.
I don't know. It's above our paygrade, bud. Just do what you're told.
Come out with your hands up!
We're looking for animators to help bring Israel Blargh's Better Then to life. If you're familiar with Source Filmmaker, Maya or another program capable of animation, please feel free to apply. We'd love to hear from you!
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