Before Zzzodd had maps, lore, or a consistent set of rules, it had Plastimals. These brightly colored plastic creatures - dinosaurs, zoo animals, farm critters, mythical beasts, and everything in between - were scattered across my living room floor long before they roamed the dream‑realm. When my kids and I first began shaping Zzzodd, Plastimals were the Toy Race that brought raw energy into the world. They didn’t walk into the story; they barreled into it.

Before Zzzodd had monsters, Dreamers, or even a name, it had Stuffies. In those early days - newborn twins, a world on lock-down, and my older kids navigating the emotions of isolation - Stuffies were the first Toy Race that felt alive. Not because they were flashy or heroic, but because they carried something deeper: the emotional heartbeat of childhood. Stuffies are the toys children cling to when the world feels too big, too loud, or too uncertain, and in Zzzodd, that emotional truth becomes literal.

Every child, at some point, imagines being powerful. Not pretend‑powerful, but truly powerful - strong enough to lift impossible weights, brave enough to face the monster under the bed, heroic enough to protect the people they love. Action Figures are the embodiment of that fantasy. When Zzzodd was still just a homemade game played on my living room floor, Action Figures were one the first Toy races my kids gravitated toward. They didn’t choose them because of stats or abilities. They chose them because Action Figures represented who they wanted to be.

When I first created Zzzodd with my kids, I wasn’t thinking about symbolism, emotional resonance, or mythic archetypes. I was thinking about survival - creative survival - during a time when the world felt uncertain and my living room felt like the entire universe.