Turbo Pudding
Dilly is a round little duckling courier in a mint cap and a coral scarf, with a parcel strapped to her back. Like everything else in Dilly Delivers, she is drawn in code, shape by shape, fresh on every frame. It’s Sunday, so here’s a page from the sketchbook on how she is put together.
The picture at the top is Drizzle Dale on day 6. Dilly has just handed over a rubber duck to Peep the chick, and you can read the moment in both faces: Dilly’s eyes closed in two happy arcs, her beak open, and Peep with star eyes under a cloud of floating hearts.
Two circles and a cap
Dilly starts as two shapes of about the same size: an oval for the body and a circle for the head, so her head is as wide as she is. Both are filled with a soft gradient, lighter at the top left and a little darker at the edge, so she looks like a plush toy with a lamp above it. Her outline is a deeper gold, never black, which keeps her soft against every background.
On top of that go the small things: a cream belly, a little curl of cheek fluff, a wing at her side, an upturned tail that wiggles and two orange feet that stay planted on the ground while the body sways above them.
A face for every moment
Most of Dilly’s acting happens in her eyes. They are big, with lashes and a blue glow, and the far eye is drawn a little smaller than the near one, so her head always seems turned slightly toward you. She blinks on her own, about every two to four seconds, never on a steady beat. Waiting at a curb, she looks up and down the street.
Dilly’s eyes have nine styles in all. A delivery gets happy arcs. In conversations, excitement turns them into stars and love into little hearts, as in “Toffee hugged me! Twice!” A splash in a puddle makes them go wide, with a drop of sweat. When a dog grabs the parcel and she pulls back, they squeeze into two tight marks, and after a bump they turn into spirals while stars circle her cap.
The beak keeps up. It’s a small smile most of the time, wide open on a delivery, a round “o” when she’s worried and a flat, gritted line in a tug of war. When she talks, it opens and shuts quickly. Two pink blushes, each with three tiny strokes, sit on her cheeks whatever her mood.
The courier kit
The cap is a mint dome with a white band, a short brim that points forward and a soft shine on top. On the front sits a tiny envelope with a pink heart seal, and a curl of yellow feather pokes out above it.
The coral scarf is knotted at her neck, and its tail streams back behind her. The parcel is kraft paper with a twine cross, a bow and a heart sticker, on a strap over her shoulder. It also keeps a record of the trip: a soaked parcel turns darker and drips, a dented one gets a crushed corner and a chewed one gets a nibbled edge.
Squash and stretch
Every move Dilly makes uses squash and stretch, a classic cartoon trick. As she takes off, she stretches about a fifth taller. When she lands, she squashes down, from a little to almost a third, depending on how hard she comes down, then springs back to round in a fraction of a second. Even standing still, she breathes, a tiny swell of about two percent.
Her walk is a waddle. The body sways from side to side and bobs a little with every step, while the feet stay on the ground. When she runs, the sway grows and she leans forward. Hold jump as she falls, and she flaps: the wing beats, her eyes squeeze shut, and for about a third of a second gravity drops to roughly a third, so she glides a little farther.
A beat behind
The last layer is what animators call secondary action: small parts that move a moment after the rest. Her head lags the body a little as she waddles. The feather curl on her cap and the tail of her scarf swing a beat late, and the scarf flutters harder when she runs. The parcel bounces with every step. None of it changes how she plays, but it’s why she looks alive instead of slid across the screen.
Chapter 1, Pudding Town, is free to play in your browser at dillydelivers.com. The full game, all six chapters, is $4.99, paid once. More about the game is on the Dilly Delivers page.
