Ratings and Reviews by verityvirtue

You, the PC, are mired in grief for the loss of Celine. Everything in the house, the initial setting, reminds the PC of Celine, down to the most trivial detail.

The setting, here, is both used to elicit the PC's memories and to create a sense of claustrophobia. Despite the social nature of funerals, the PC's grief is so intensely private, that to share it with others would be an invasion, almost. The tone is bleak - actions are sometimes rebuffed with terse messages: "You've been better"; "You can't remember anything important now".

Unusual turns of phrase - the curve like that of a human spine; the baboonish chatter - make everyday settings seem strange, something highlighted with the reality-bending lyre, one of the most obvious elements borrowed from the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

The game allows for exploration and is generally forgiving, except for the endgame, in which the player's sequence of actions is crucial.

This is a short, cosy Twine set on the back of a wagon, in which the PC and their partner discuss their future. It's been a while since the apocalypse happened, but you're alive, and the town up ahead is a new opportunity...

The setting borrows elements from Westerns, though it is not unique to them: travellers on the road, never knowing what lies ahead, being separated from human company for prolonged periods at a time.

There is something comforting about discussing what seems so trivial, so individual despite the world crumbling all around you. There is something comforting in planning for the future at the end of the world, and even more so in the NPC, Sam, who responds to even the most cynical of conversational options with good grace. Emphasising that is a gentle soundtrack, partly guitar, partly sounds of nature.

Design-wise, this game features the thoughtful use of colour schemes - with different colours for each speaker - and cycling links to present conversational options.

A peaceful, intimate diversion, not unlike laika's Heretic Pride.

This is a technically strong, very attractive game in which you deliver messages and courier goods, all to maintain the delicate balance of power between Sonnenblume, Einzapfen and Angel Temple.

The puzzles in To Spring Open, if you call it that, are so steeped in the mythos of this world that they didn't feel forced or contrived. They're minimal, and the game establishes a routine for the player early on.

The effects used in this Twine 1 game are also not to be sniffed at, and in fact added to the story. I particularly enjoyed the effects in the train, but the choice of colour schemes to denote different locations was well done as well.

The language in this game is distinctive - "Unsettled bones recall the shock of your notification." is one of the first sentences you will encounter - and the game's breadth gives it enough space to shine. The mythos recalls Egyptian mythology (you have natron and jackal symbology) and lots more things besides - instead of messenger pigeons, you have paper planes. There's depth to the setting, and indeed choosing different costumes gains you access to different places. As another reviewer has said, the world in To Spring Open could well populate a much larger game, and is one of the most enjoyable parts of this game. Recommended.

[Contains occasional profanity. Time to completion: 5-10 minutes]

This Twine poem is about human suffering and the inevitability of death, at least according to the blurb. I have difficulty understanding all but the most concrete poetry even at the best of times, and I did not understand this piece. It slams out metaphors and images and rhythms in what is sometimes wordy verse. It grabs references and images from cultures from antiquity to modernity. It's quite the wild ride.

If you like lines like "ancient archaeopteryx of crews and heathens/mollusks, plagues/black bastard symphonies, thousand talons/
lice and the lance of doomed reverberations," then you might like this.

[Time to completion: 20-30 minutes]

The PC is grieving for the loss of their husband, a professor, and they now have to clear his office. This is a short, one-room parser game in which the things you uncover reveal something new in the room.

The tone is weary and cynical: much of the trappings associated with academia elicit remarks on its futility, and the lack of lasting meaning - fitting, considering that the PC is rifling through the trappings of a life in academia.

Implementation is a bit spotty. It's not immediately obvious what triggers the appearance of new items, and some changes are triggered after a seemingly arbitrary number of turns, so it was hard for me to figure out how to finish the game. Some seemingly obvious nouns/actions were unimplemented (Spoiler - click to show)such as >OPEN CARDBOARD giving me "That's not something you can open.".

Boxes is a short meditation on futility and disillusionment, but is unfortunately marred by its less-than-comprehensive implementation.