I’m still in the middle of playing this game, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be done.
In this story, our focus character Aisling slogs through an endlessly looping tunnel. The setup evokes Exit 8, but with solo-Danganronpa levels of psychic torment. Point is, it’s a trap that Aisling was destined for, and proactively sought out, but does not deserve.
Something interesting is happening with perspective here. We observe the narrator as they observe Aisling’s struggle, which is also content Aisling is creating for their audience, based on someone else’s content they watched once and have been searching for. Later we learn the narrator created this experience for Aisling, without their consent or understanding. Does content have a value, or a cost? Is it good or bad to be watched? Is there a risk in consuming all this content—content like the video Aisling was looking for, which doomed them; content like the video Aisling is making right now? The arrows point in all directions.
I’ve made four loops and each time I ended up somewhere different. Every time I restart the game I notice something new—sometimes because something is slightly different based on my choices, and sometimes because nothing is. A couple times I clicked through the dialogue too fast—did something change that time? But I can't go back. Despite that this story has a straightforward script with occasional binary choices, the gameplay mirrors the setting. I’m lost in the maze. (This is a good maze.)
Nothing feels concrete, but as I look carefully, the details get clearer. I find references to a past audience being spectators to someone else’s public trauma. A ghostly figure appears: did they shed layers of themselves until they became transparent? Can we really learn from watching someone else’s struggle, or is it just gratuitous and damaging? Can I get to the bottom of this after a few more loops? Maybe there’s a path that will let me achieve the satisfaction of a True End or a 100% completed decision tree. Or maybe the paths will keep changing so I can never find what I’m looking for.
I will play at least four more times to find out.
Blossom, NY is interactive nonfiction—a researched history of a real community, presented like a brief guided tour. This is cool to see! I often wonder why there isn’t more interactive nonfiction storytelling. It would be interesting to see more experiments like this.
Structure-wise, this tour isn’t linear, because the game jumps around via hypertext, as if you’re encouraging your meandering tour guide to expound on whatever topic you’re particularly interested in. (I appreciated the game making sure we were situated by explaining how this would work ahead of time.) At first this nonlinear presentation made it harder for me to understand things, with historical facts revealed out of order, and even some future reflections from a couple years after the tour took place. But as the same highlighted topics kept appearing in different passages, I began to see more clearly the matrix of connections between present, past, and more distant past. I wonder if this repetitive presentation might actually help with learning.
Overall, this mini tour didn’t feel to me like storytelling as much as a history lesson for educational purposes. As a picky reader with a wandering mind, I felt myself grasping for a deeper present-day story layered over the history: Why was the narrator there? Who are they, and how did they discover what they know about this hamlet? When the narrator said something like “Last time I saw [this house] was before they put [the vinyl siding] on,” I wanted to hear the rest of that story. This is probably my IF habit kicking in, but I wonder if a little personal storytelling—whether true or fictional—would’ve made my visit more captivating. Then again, maybe here the point is to educate more than to captivate. And that it certainly did.
The Red Pearls of Borneo is an investigative deduction game that feels a bit like Type Help crossed with Return of the Obra Dinn, but from a certain historical angle. In this story, you’re a psychic investigator looking into the fates of a client’s family members during an especially violent day in Borneo during World War II.
I played the version on itch.io (it's also on Steam), and there was a lot to like. Gameplay was smooth: after I got used to navigating the various menus and lists, it was impressive how easy it was to follow the story in nonlinear fashion and make connections without taking a bunch of external notes, even though I didn't use all the available tools. I thought the music and art added rather than subtracted. Some of the deductions felt very satisfying, and some of the plot twists too.
There were also some things I didn’t love: The dialogue was rough at times, there were many typos, and when I needed a hint, the game just told me what to do. A little more nuance to the hint system would’ve been nice, to make the player feel they’re still doing at least some of the work. Also, the final sequences got a little confusing, both emotionally and logically, I think because there was extra content added to the game later on. I wonder if the original pre-DLC version might’ve had a more balanced final act.
One more thing: There’s really no comfortable way to answer the question at the beginning that asks if you want to see slurs or not. No, I actually don’t want to, but I can’t just forget the option is there (plus even if you say no, they’re just censored out). And it feels like everyone says slurs, even the player character. Maybe it is realistic, but maybe realism is not always the most fun choice!
Ultimately, I’m glad I played this game, and I enjoyed puzzling out what happened to everyone, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it broadly—though WWII history buffs might especially enjoy it.
Cryptid Hunter is fairly minimalist but evocatively written, which pretty much describes my favorite kind of game.
The title is mostly self-explanatory, but it leaves out something important: this is sneakily a puzzle game. The story feels quite adventurous, but then the gameplay boils down to focusing on the details of your uncanny encounters and observing the traits that make each entity more or less likely to be your quarry.
The gameplay is robust for such a short game. Because the monsters on your to-capture list and their descriptions vary, it is in fact replayable, and I was engaged enough to play through a few times until I got the hang of it and saw all(?) of the endings.
The creatures themselves are inventive, and reading along with the search was entertaining on its own. So the presence of actual game mechanics was a nice surprise, and the pattern matching felt well-balanced to boot. I also appreciated small additions like being able to take photos or do other interactions in certain cases. A few more variations like that would’ve made the world even more rich.
With all those features as the setup, the moment of trepidation before clicking “Capture” fulfilled the promise of the title.
(I was a playtester for this game.)
Mashing story and puzzles together is hard, even when the puzzles aren’t cryptic crossword clues. But this game proves it can really work!
Stooping to Diplomacy is about cryptic crossword clues in kind of the same sense that Typing of the Dead is about typing. It’s not quite as preposterous, though, because there’s a reasonable explanation for the central mechanic: to help Lephrea the vampire form alliances with the animals of the Kansas City Zoo, you need to decipher cryptic hints from her sass-talking Ouija board. So, ok, maybe it is a little preposterous.
Lephrea and the Ouija board may be at odds, but the Ouija board has no animosity towards the player, so you don’t have to be a genius at cryptic crosswords: the game will walk you through them if you need help. (After all, this game was written based on the EnigMarch prompt “hint,” so hinting is a pretty central mechanism.) So this is a great way to learn how to parse and solve cryptic clues if you want to, and maybe even a way to train yourself to be less rigid about taking hints. Also, it’s really two games snaking around each other, with the cryptic clues providing help for the in-world trading sequence and vice versa, which just feels really unique and cool.
Puzzles aside, I’ve enjoyed all the glimpses of Lephrea as a side character in the Little Match Girl series (and the related The Board of Regents, written for the previous year’s EnigMarch). Her personality is so strong, and an unlikely vessel for character humor. But we can’t identify too much with her as an antihero here, because she reminds us that she is not a cool Jessica Jones type with a good heart, but a soulless vampire who will (with our help!) do things that repulse us. In particular, the scene where (Spoiler - click to show)she causes the probable demise of a cute baby animal was a blatant wake-up call for me. If I didn’t trust the author, I might have closed the browser window and walked away at this point. But the space between the player and the player character kept opening up and closing back in, making it too tempting to go along with her scheme. And this is the moment when I realized the game itself has vampiric qualities.
Also, the finale is so satisfying/chilling. This is a really good game.
Somewhere down the line, I can imagine myself thinking: What was that movie about the vampire who took a midnight train going...somewhere? Oh, right, it was IF. And that wasn’t voiceover narration, it was internal links with insights into vampire culture and physiology. Because this game is largely linear but rich and compelling, like a good movie or play. And you can think while reading: about the nature of evil, about what trust is worth, about what kind of brokenness can be redeemed.
Vampire stories start to seep together after a while, like, what’s a good analogy, watercolors. But this one feels fresh. The rules seem unstable and not entirely known, in a way that feels truer to real life than to fantasy.
This game was written for ShuffleComp, and I enjoyed looking at what songs served as inspiration after playing. It’s impressive how they all contributed something to the story.
This game doesn’t seem to be available currently, which is too bad, because it was a really fun read.
The story is framed as a newly discovered Goosebumps manuscript by R.L. Stine that was never published, but it’s easy to forget that once you get into the story. Fortunately, R.L. Stine himself pops in occasionally with some tangential author’s notes, to remind you that what you’re reading is just a made-up story by a writer of young adult thrillers, thank goodness.
The writing does feel like Goosebumps at times, but mostly it’s its own thing: wacky and cinematic and nostalgic and eventually quite disturbing as the horror element rises to the surface. The mix of comedy and horror is an oddly effective foundation for a heartfelt story of a child with a neglectful and cruel family who just needs to be loved, and if the humans around her can’t do that, an escaped kangaroo may be the next best thing. Of course, nothing in Goosebumps is simple, and as she learns more about her new friend (Spoiler - click to show)(through telepathy, nothing weird about that), she’s faced with a choice that’s explicitly laid out in the text: Birth family or found family?
This isn’t Give Yourself Goosebumps, so the game is completely linear (aside from a few text expansions), which means you don’t have a choice as the inevitable unfolds. But narratively and emotionally, the question does have a satisfying answer.
As dark as it gets (here is the horror part), the story ends on a hopeful note as the protagonist picks up the pieces, before the frame tale returns and we are left to wonder: Why did R.L. Stine write such an unusual story? Why (perhaps this is easier to answer) was it never published? And where did he learn all those curse words?
This is a cute little game where you get to be a dog and choose your own mini adventure every day. It’s a graphical mobile-oriented game, but you can also play it on browser.
This game is so wholesome. I ate a treat someone gave me. I made friends with a duck. I went home and played with my toys. It was restorative to inhabit a dog’s life for a little while.
First of all, it needs to be said that I played this game with only a basic understanding of what iCarly is. But even though I didn’t know Carly, it was nice to spend a little time with her.
This game is not exactly what I expected The iCarly RPG to be, even though I knew not to expect iCarly the RPG. And it’s not a groundbreaking game, but it delivers something I enjoyed very much: an absurd and fragmented story with a beating heart buried underneath. There’s some laughs, some light horror, some references I didn’t understand—a little bit of a lot of things. I enjoyed the jarring mix of comedy and tragedy, unexpected left turns, unusual design choices, and especially the fourth wall breaking. I am a sucker for fourth wall breaking.
The story was not entirely scrutable (probably even for fans of the show), but the incompleteness suited the mood. The interactivity was simple but involving and meaningful, particularly at the end. And the RPG elements were well placed and effective (Spoiler - click to show)(this is a joke because they are so underused, but also I mean it because an ingredient used sparingly can add a lot). And then you get to feel good at the end!!
I really enjoyed this short twist on (a twist on) a classic fairy tale (Spoiler - click to show) (I'm referring to Shrek). A bunch of the dialogue and narration lines made me laugh, and just the way the story unfolded was funny too. This game has a lot of heart, and because the choices are so straightforward, you truly get to choose what kind of fairytale ending you want. (Checking out the other endings was fun too.) Plus it has adorable illustrations!
Despite a lot of typos and some pronoun mixups, I'd recommend this game widely, especially because a playthrough only takes about ten minutes.