Social Lycanthropy Disorder

I was always going to like this one. "Gay werewolf social anxiety simulator," besides describing most of my high school career, is a premise that caters so specifically to my tastes that the game would have to send angry bees to my house upon every death for me not to like it. Even then, I'd probably still give it two stars.

In Social Lycanthropy Disorder, you play as Mia, a werewolf who has accidentally agreed to attend a Halloween party on the night of a full moon. Being more afraid of the definite faux pas of cancelling last minute than the potential faux pas of turning into a dog in your friend's living room, it's now up to you to keep up social niceties, make small talk, and stay just long enough to not look suspicious, while avoiding touching anything silver or peeing on the carpet.

I'm still quite new to narrative rather than puzzle-based IF, so it's possible this isn't all that salient a comparison, but Social Lycanthropy reminds me most of Brian Patrick Hennessey's work, specifically Birdland. Both games have a core conceit of a protagonist going through a decidedly supernatural event without letting anyone around them know about it, and I think they share a similarly offbeat sense of humor and overall optimistic messaging about the human condition.

Unfortunately, in that comparison, Social Lycanthropy lags behind in two major ways. The first is in the depth of side characters; this is understandable, since Lycanthropy is substantially shorter than Birdland, and your interactions with the other party guests are meant to be somewhat awkwardly brief. The second is that Lycanthropy lacks any kind of central gameplay gimmick besides "mill around a party for a while." This is...fine, I guess, and okay, yes, there is a "discomfort meter," but it's such a minor part of the narrative that you're unlikely to notice it unless you specifically shoot for a bad ending.

I think there was real potential here to lean even further into the "werewolf instincts" aspect: as the night goes on, maybe you have to ensure you don't hover around the snack table too long, lest your inner beast decides to hork down the whole charcuterie table. Maybe you have to avoid the host's cat so you aren't tempted to chase it. The game is still perfectly fine without these things, I just think they would have added a nice little zhuzh to proceedings.

I've found I have some trouble giving an ultimate verdict on heavily story-based games, since, so long as they have a basically cromulent narrative structure and no game-breaking bugs, there's very little in them I feel equipped to declare universally "good" or "bad." For what it's worth, I enjoyed my time with Social Lycanthropy Disorder, and I think you might too.

Now, who wants a treat?