Portfolio
Welcome to my portfolio showcasing my work in game development, video production, audio production, and creative writing. Each project represents my passion for digital media and storytelling.
Game Development
Shotgun Roulette
To practice writing interactive narratives, I created an interactive story using Twine called Shotgun Roulette. Please feel free to check it out by pasting the link below in your preferred browser!
https://tiegsmcd.itch.io/shotgun-roulette
Package Delivery Game
These are screenshots from a package delivery game I have been working on to practice using Unity and write code using C#. I obtained all of the sprites and resources through Udemy and have been primarily working on this to continue learning and expand my skills as a developer.
Forks
Welcome to Forks! This game is still a work in progress but the concept in a little girl trying to navigate her way through a dangerous forest so she can reach the town on the other side and sell apples. This forest is treacherous and full of monsters who hunt travelers that take the wrong path. Luckily, a mysterious figure helps travelers on their journeys by showing a map each time a player approaches a fork in the road. The tricky thing about this is that the map showing the correct path is only visible for three seconds before it disappears, meaning players must pay attention and quickly memorize the map before committing to a path!
So far, I have built 9 levels for Forks with the goal of eventually having at least 20. Additionally, I want to continue optimizing the game and making sure it can run on all devices, create a soundtrack and have sound effects, and implement some walking animations for the main character. All of the sprites and assets were either created by myself using Unity's built in sprite creator, or are open source materials.
Video/film
Making happy Hour Episode 1 is the first episode of a series I am making where I explore how to create 3D games.
Audio Production
In my DIGI 270 class we did a podcast collaboration with CRIM student. For this assignment, I was sent a raw audio file which I then enhanced to create a story that supported the content being presented my the speaker.
This was a fun little edit I made of the children's story The Three Bully Goats Gruff.
Creative Writing
It’s a Thursday night, yet the parking lot is packed. I feel frustrated at the lack of parking spots and worried that I might see someone I know in the store. I usually park close to the entrance so I can get in and out easier, but tonight I have trouble finding any spots at all. I drive up and down the lot, passing at least six different rows of claimed spots until I finally find a space at the very back of the lot. I pull in and shut off the engine.
What does she need again?
I reach for my phone tucked into my pant pocket and check the grocery list mom has sent me.
Milk, cilantro, black beans, tomatoes, and tortilla chips.
I get excited after reading these ingredients as they are what mom needs to make Taco salad.
Nice.
I step out of my car into the chilly night air. The back of the parking lot feels desolate, lit only by the faint glow from a distant streetlight and the headlights of cars still searching for a spot. I pat my coat pockets, double checking for my car keys and phone, then shove my hands into those pockets to keep them warm. I take a deep breath and walk towards the store. It seems even farther away now that I am outside my warm car. I weave through parked cars and scattered puddles in the lot.
Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg.
I focus on the rhythm of my steps and deliberately placed each foot in front of the other on the cold asphalt. I measure the space between my strides, trying to keep them steady, controlled. My mind races, preoccupied with making everything seem natural, effortless, even though it feels anything but.
I just want to blend in.
Hey Jeremy! Is that you?
I stop in my tracks. I turn around and see Andrew, my old friend from high school walking towards me.
Fuck. Please no. Please don’t come up to me.
My right leg spasms uncontrollably as he continues getting closer. I have no choice but to try and act normal.
Hey man it’s been a while! How are things? I say.
Andrew walks right up to me and gives me a big hug.
I have been good! Working construction with my dad. How about you man what's going on in your life?
I consider my response carefully. I want it to be short and concise.
Things are good! Working lots and still living with my mom.
Andrew pats me on the arm and flashes a big grin.
I am going into the store, let’s walk together, it’s freezing out here!
He grabs my arm and pulls me in the direction of the store. He tells me more about his job.
I do my best to match his pace. I want to listen, I really do, but my focus is split. I am trying my best to make my movements seem effortless and natural. Each step feels like a performance. I keep my stride steady, my posture casual, all the while hoping no one notices the effort it’s taking me to appear normal.
Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg, left.
My left foot drags on the pavement and I stumble. Luckily, I manage to catch myself before hitting the ground.
Andrew stops and looks back at me.
I see concern in his eyes.
Hey man you good? I noticed that you seem to be walking a little different, are you injured?
I can sense my cheeks getting warm. Back in high school, my leg disability was a lot more manageable, and I was able to hide it well. But as I've gotten older, my muscles have grown tighter, and it has made it harder to hide my weakness.
Nah I am totally fine, I just hurt my leg the other day while I was riding my bike. Don’t worry about me, I will be back to normal soon!
I feel like a coward. Instead of owning the fact that I have a disability, I took the easy route and lied. Andrew has no reason to question me, and why would he? I have only ever told a handful of people about my condition.
Damn that sucks, hopefully you heal fast! We should go for a ride when you are feeling better!
I do my best to act excited.
Yeah man! Sounds like a plan.
We continue to walk towards the store.
Andrew has gone back to chatting about work, though I sense his curiosity lingering. He hasn't asked any more about my limp, but I can see the unspoken question in his sideways glances.
We reached the entrance and agree to part ways, and before we each head off to do our own shopping, Andrew pulls me in for another hug and wishes me a fast recovery. I thank him.
I then watch him walk away. His strides look confident and effortless. A feeling of envy forms in my chest as I study how easily he walks, as natural as breathing.
I take a deep breath, turn away, and head in the opposite direction, focusing on my own steps, one at a time.
Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg.
High Card By Tiegan McDevitt
Garett sat anxiously at the table, admiring the mountain of poker chips he’d accumulated. Hours had passed since he first sat here, and now only one other player remained. The other players had dropped out one by one and it now came down to the two of them.
Their chip stacks were nearly even, with ten thousand dollars at stake and Garett was confident this would be the final hand of the night. He needed to win this.
The dealer shuffled and then dealt both players their cards. Garett noticed that a crowd of spectators had formed around the table.
He studied his opponent and searched for any sign of emotion while he peeked at his cards.
His opponent leaned back in his chair, face unreadable, fingers tapping lightly on the green felt.
Garett looked down at his own cards. He was holding a Jack of Spades and an Eight of Hearts. Nothing promising.
The dealer burned a card and presented the flop.
“King of Hearts. Queen of Clubs. Five of Spades.”
Garett’s stomach tightened. Still nothing.
He glanced at his opponent, who exhaled sharply through his nose before checking his cards again. Then, without hesitation, he pushed his entire stack into the center of the table.
“All in.”
The words hit like a gunshot. The crowd stirred and murmurs spread.
Garett’s pulse quickened. Was it a bluff? A miscalculated risk? He didn’t need to check his cards again. He already knew what he had. Or rather, what he didn’t have. His opponent only needed a single pair to take it all. But something felt off. Why push now? Why not wait for the turn and river?
Screw it.
“Fine then, I call.”
The spectators inched closer. Some shouted, others watched in silence.
Garett studied his opponent closely. A bead of sweat trailed down the man’s forehead. His posture was relaxed, but that tiny detail betrayed him. He was nervous.
Garett, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide his nerves. His palms were damp, his fingers fidgeting with his remaining chips. In a matter of moments, he would find out whether he had made a brilliant call, or the dumbest play of his life.
The dealer nodded and said,
“Gentlemen, show your cards.”
Garrett’s opponent flipped his hand.
“Pair of Kings, three of a kind.”
The crowd gasped.
Garett stared at his own hand, already knowing the outcome. He then threw them down on the table.
“Jack. Eight. Nothing.”
Silence hung in the air for a beat.
Then, the dealer’s voice rang out.
“Three of a kind! Congratulations to the gentleman on my right!”
For a moment, neither man moved. Garett’s jaw tightened. His face darkened as the realization sank in. He had just thrown it all away.
The room erupted in noise. Chips clattered as they were pushed across the table, away from Garett. His opponent chuckled, shaking his head as he stood.
“All in on high card?” he muttered.
Garett rose, exhaling sharply. Without a word, he walked away to call his wife. At least he would be home for supper.
A Noble Cause By Tiegan McDevitt
Greggor and Sir Rolland had been patrolling the outskirts of Greenlager Village, their path lit only by the pale glow of the moon and the flickering torch in Greggor’s hand. As they walked Greggor heard rustling coming from the forest.
“Did you hear that my lord?” said Greggor.
Sir Rolland, a knight of the realm and the man Greggor had dedicated his life to, stepped off the path and confidently approached the tree line. “In the name of the King! Who goes there?” he shouted.
Greggor remained on the path and watched. Sir Rolland was the bravest man he had ever met, and he felt honored to serve as his squire. Whatever beasts lurked in those woods; he had no doubt they would be no match for his lord's blade. Greggor listened as the knight’s booming voice carried for a moment through the trees, until the only sound was the crackling of the torch. The forest went still. Greggor exhaled loudly and said,
“It must have been a muskrat, my lord! We should carry on with our patrol.”
Sir Rolland turned to face him and, his expression was fiercer then Greggor had ever seen.
“Did I give you permission to speak, Greggor?” Greggor stiffened. He’d meant no disrespect, but realized that he’d made a mistake and that there would be punishment once they returned to the castle.
Sir Rolland paused, then scoffed, and turned his back to the trees. “Come, Greggor. We must make haste if we are to attend the evening festivities! I will not miss my chance with Lady Grizelda once more because of your insolence.”
Greggor winced and recalled the last time Sir Rolland had been delayed. The knight had that time tumbled into a ravine and injured his leg. Greggor had to carry him the twenty-kilometers back to the castle. Because of that, Sir Rolland had missed his supper with Lady Grizelda, and had acted furiously to Greggor ever since. “I apologize, my lord,” Greggor said. “If you had let me remove your armor, we might have -”
“You are a fool if you think I would ever leave my armor behind! It is worth more than a hundred generations of your entire family!”
Greggor lowered his gaze to his worn-down, dirt-caked shoes. “You are right, my lord. I am sorry.”
“Think before you speak! Now come along. We must make haste!”
But before Greggor could take another step, shadows burst from the tree line, dark figures sprinting toward them with terrifying speed.
“We are under attack! To battle!” Sir Rolland shouted. He then drew his sword and charged toward the tree line.
Greggor fumbled for his knife and felt his heart pounding. “I am with you, sir!” But before he could follow Sir Rolland, his ankles were gripped and he fell backward. He gasped, barely able to let out a cry before his head slammed into the hard dirt path.
Greggor awoke in a daze and his head pounded. The air around him was thick with the scent of lavender and honey. That might have been pleasant under different circumstances, but right now it caused his stomach to churn. A ragged blindfold covered his eyes and made it impossible for him to see where he was. His hands were tied behind his back, and he sensed that he hung from something and he felt himself sway. He realized then that his ankles were also tied. He felt around as best he could with his bound hands and determined that he hung from a pole.
His head struck the ground and that was the last thing Greggor recalled. He did not know how long he had been out for or what had happened to Sir Roland. “My Lord! Are you here?” “My Lord!”
A cool hand brushed against his face, carefully sliding the blindfold down until it rested around his neck. Greggor saw he was in a dimly lit cave and was suspended above an unlit firepit. The creature who had removed his blindfold stood beneath him. Its gaze fixed on Greggor and it smiled then revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth.
It had eyes as black as the night, and its skin dark red. It also had long white hair that hung in tangled strands. It looked to be around three feet tall and wore nothing but a rag to cover its mid-section. Greggor had watched Sir Rolland battle these creatures many times. This was a Goblin.
“I am prepared to offer you two choices. One: I light this fire, and my friends and I feast on your cooked flesh. Or two! You put on the armor we took from your friend and help us break into the castle. If we kidnap the lady Grizelda, the King will pay us handsomely for his youngest daughter’s life. Will you help us - or meet the same fate as your lord?”
Greggor looked at the goblin, mimicking the cold, steady gaze Sir Rolland had often given him and he’d practiced many times in the mirror. "Fine then. Light the fire."