The guests are almost here, and the master is in one of his moods. You're his faithful servant, and there's much to do: a cook to fire, candles to light, and a special harness to locate, to say nothing of what you'll need to do once the party actually starts. It's enough to make anyone go... batty.
The Bat is, to date, one of the best things I've read this year, and it's no surprise given that this is a Chandler Groover production. I recently reread Toby's Nose to see if it still held up to my impression of it, and it did - but what Groover has achieved here has eclipsed it.
The limited nature of the parser and inventory didn't faze me - on the contrary, it only served to heighten the experience; even a talented valet has only two hands, of course, and attending to things is in their nature. The charm and personality in the writing is ever-present and never falters, each room and strange object and wacky goings-on described in just as much detail that it needs to be. I don't think I quite got all the clever references - there certainly are a lot of them - but they by no means overstay their welcome.
One mechanic in particular stands out, as has been mentioned in other reviews, and whether it was intended as genre commentary or not, it was bloody good fun to solve puzzles with.
Just outstanding work all round, really. Five experimental bats out of five.
The camel's back is broken, the end of the rope has been reached. "Get thee to a nunnery" is an idea that has reached its time, at least in the mind of the angry little clergyman who had it. Unfortunately for him, the subject of the idea is not going to go quietly...
No More is a compact experience that is packed full of personality and detail, and even though it plays out in a single room - the inside of a carriage - the description of it changes as the story unfolds and the situation becomes a bit more clear.
I appreciated the option of having a story mode, and although I would have liked more interactivity or variability in the ending, it plays out very well and is, on the whole, a satisfying little read. Four beams of moonlight out of five.
As a Word Mage, the English language is both the source of your magical power and your instrument. However, a really badly timed accident has not only robbed you of your ability to use verbs, but put you in a sticky situation involving a pissed-off dragon. Maybe you can find another word class to bend to your will? Although, it's not going to be easy...
Nonverbal Communication is a little gem of an experience with a fantastic mechanic at its heart. As other reviews mention, it seems like that this is intended to be a proof-of-concept for a larger piece of fiction - and if it isn't, it really should be.
I did find it very difficult to understand at first, and I think more could have been done to make the mechanic a little clearer in the beginning, but after a significant trial and error period, I was able to get to an ending, and from there work my way into solving the path to get the others. The overarching story between wizard and dragon was delivered well and it connected with me, but it could have been extended and fleshed out just a little bit more.
Well, I really want more of everything this is. Please! Four rampaging dragons out of five.
"If you are cold, tea will warm you; if you are too heated, it will cool you; if you are depressed, it will cheer you; if you are excited, it will calm you."
- British Prime Minister William E. Gladstone (allegedly)
Like the titular sentimental feeling the protagonist expresses towards the titular teacup, the words of praise in this review will be minor. However, Quest for the Teacup of Minor Sentimental Value did reveal to me a number of things that I had not been aware of (due to my long absence from the scene), including that you can run RPGMaker games in the browser now. Huh. I shall file that one away for later.
I did enjoy the work, and I thought a lot of the comedy was clever. Some slightly missed the mark, but overall the idea of (Spoiler - click to show)tracking down, confronting and eventually overcoming Actual, Literal Satan - to retrieve a teacup you don't even particularly care for that badly - is good, and worth the short playtime.
There are a handful of choices here and there and a few bad ends, with only a couple of them being particularly memorable, so it's not quite as interactive as I'd hoped for. There is combat, but as far as I can tell that's just for a bit of flavor in certain circumstances.
All in all, a moderately entertaining experience. Three Portals to Hell out of five.
You are a familiar - a homunculus, a little man in the bottle - except you're not gendered, not at all human, and definitely not in a bottle. You've just been created, and aware of your own existence. But you are alone, and your creator is nowhere to be seen. Luckily, you have a special ability - to synthesize yourself with every other familiar you come across to take THEIR special abilities. Your goal? Escape the facility you were born in and take vengeance on your indifferent master!
Familiar Problems is a great little game that positively vibrates (RESONATES, even) with personality, every detail of the world it is set in placed there with purpose and care. Once the mechanics of your powers are worked out, the way you use them to solve the various puzzles in the facility becomes clear, though it may take a little while. There is a helpful ASCII map at the top to aid with navigation but, uh, I kind of only noticed it about two-thirds of the way through, haha.
This ticked all of my boxes, and I will definitely check out the other Stelzer works in time. My only real complaint is the length, and I hope there's a sequel or two in the pipeline, because this mechanic has legs (spindly compass ones, of course). Five blobs of bluish-green fluid out of five.
Would you let someone else borrow your own body? Take it out for a spin, have a joyride with your physicality for a short period of time, see if the grass is really all that green on the other side.
Let's say that if you did, then... what if the joyrider decided to stick around longer than originally agreed upon? What if your body, your life, was much more enjoyable than whatever they had to go back to?
What if you were taken over?
do not let your left hand know not only explores this idea but savors it, twists it and weaves a narrative through it and around it that is emotional and confronting. It definitely got a reaction out of me, and it is incredibly well-written, not just in terms of the actual text but how it is positioned and arranged, something that is easy to miss at first glance but becomes very obvious by the end.
When time came for the single choice to be made, it was clear which option would lead to its corresponding outcome, and I was able to get the conclusion that satisfied me the most.
I only wish I was able to give more than four stars, but single-choice narratives like this don't really fulfil my criterion about interactivity. All others were satisfied, and I want to read more from this author.
Overall, a pleasant twenty minute reading experience. Four pairs of hearts out of five.
You are in an awful future, that much is plain. Words writhe and crawl along the screen at your touch, transforming from one language to another and back again as you try and divine their meaning. You are a conduit for something greater, something you do not understand, but which nevertheless has such a hold on you and the world you live in that reality, and your memories of it, are forever compromised.
This is Verses, and it is one hell of a trip.
I'm just going to come out and say it - I don't think I understood the story fully, or whether or not I am meant to understand it, which is why this is a four-star review and not a five. However, the impression I was able to get is that Verses is an incredibly atmospheric work that (ironically, as it turns out) needs time to digest.
The world it describes is full of decay, ruin and visceral imagery, and as a journeyman linguist I appreciate the little flourishes of translation present - at various points you're directed to translate something which appears in Romanian and then, as you click, it gradually transforms from that to a literal English translation and then a more thematically accurate (or more poetic) interpretation of that.
The religious symbolism laid throughout is thick and purposeful, and there are multiple ways this manifests in the environment and plot. It's a kind of writing that seems to live and breathe and die and rot just like the fleshy masses and biological protuberances it describes.
Overall, a thoroughly enjoyable yet unsettling experience, and I hope to read more from this particular author. Four sebaceous glands out of five.