Babyface

Another horror piece? Fuck yeah. Here we go.

First impression: I like that the “audio test” merges immediately into the story–or at least, it seemed to, but then things take a step back as the story actually begins.

N95. My, my. The game takes place in our current hellworld, I see. Our father grins until I click on him, and then he grimmaces [sic]. Which is it–did his smile sour? A bit confusing, but all right. Minor stuff. I like the use of real images (and fantastic use of This Person Does Not Exist).

On the whole, I like the story; I like its weirdness and writing of its descriptions. I firmly believe not all things need (or should) be answered, but like the rotting tatters of the titular entity’s cloth coverings, I felt like there were many dangling pieces here and there. It was a bit disjointed, is what I mean: a lot of pieces which I like individually, but they don’t seem to fit together, mostly.

Concretely, what I mean is

[Spoiler…

go play it first]

at the end, given the core tenet of Babyface’s obsession, I was fully expecting the protagonist to unmask him and reveal him to be a boy who is, by appearances, the same age as when his father last knew him, right when he began covering himself up. I even thought the friend’s story was a nice foreshadowing of this.

Instead, we find an abomination split across ages. His body has aged, and his face has de-aged somehow, and I think we’re to assume that this all has to do with his mother as well and also there’s some association with flies.

I think there’s something really good in here! But as it is now, I don’t think it comes together as well as I think it has the potential to.

The other big component of an IF work is of course the gameplay. This is not a game about decisions. There is no optional content here. It is purely an experience–an interactive form of a linear narrative. The text effects are, in my opinion, extremely well-done, with one exception: IFComp players hate timed text, and this well documented if you peep out a lot of reviews. I don’t think I hate it so much as others seem to, and it matters less here because this isn’t a game one is likely to replay, as it lacks branching story. (You could even argue that the only reason one would replay it would be just to experience it again, and I guess the timed text is part of the experience). Whether or not timed text belongs in there at all aside, I definitely think there are portions where the pauses are too long. The dream sequence stands out in particular as having been painfully long, at least for my standards of waiting for text to appear. I read really fast! Please don’t torture me like this.

Still, I think the biggest disappointment is the lack of player options; you move through the fixed story like an amusement park ride patron. I kind of hate to bring it up, but the image on the game over (especially the font of the text) reminded me immediately of last year’s Boogeyman, and I can’t help but feel the contrast does not work in this game’s favor. In Boogeyman, the interactivity is integral to the narrative and its impact–the whole idea to allow the player to be complicit in the disturbing events of the game. Here, you’re a passive viewer, and that just carries less weight.

My opinion of this one in the end is that it’s on the positive end of decent. It’s a shame, because the game is polished and the story has potential it doesn’t quite reach. Would definitely like to see more from this author in the future.

Quest for the Sword of Justice

All right, another comedy/parody fantasy, sure. I’ll just open this up and–

–oh, an RPGMaker game: now that I wasn’t expecting.

OK, so let’s take it for a spin. It’s a send-up of classic JRPGs from the moment it begins, and I was amused that, even though I figured from the start it would never be necessary, there’s a convincing menu, should you choose to view stats, spells, and equipment.

There were plenty of amusing moments. My favorite NPC was the clown, which is definitely a first. The game mostly lampoons the trope in these games in which a thing that’s laid out in the open is clearly for the taking for you, the player (often even in people’s homes). Not really new territory, but it was well done here.

And then you get to the end[?].

For trying to just walk away with the Sword of Justice, you get sent to trial, which I’m guessing ends with you in jail no matter how the trial goes. And from there the game just trolls you.

I figured immediately that this was just the rest of the game, and I thought, okay, that’s pretty funny. Nice wrap-up to the parody. And then, while I was examining bits of dialogue I’d missed in the jail cell, imaginary friends start appearing in the cell, seemingly on a timed basis. After three of them showed up I waited a bit longer, but with each even I found it less funny and more irritating. The intent seems to be to leave you hanging (at least, after two minutes, I wasn’t hanging around to see if there was more content) as the player, which…I dunno, others prob find it funnier than I do.

So, yep, there you have it. Not much else to say about this one, really.

Radicofani, Saint Simon’s Saw, swordsmyth, Tragic, Tangled Tales, Creatures

This is not a review.

I just wanted to state that–though I doubt I will actually reach my goal of playing every game I set out to–these are the games I must pass on for now. This isn’t a judgment of any of them (and, frankly, I would really like to play some of these, from the looks of them), but they’re .EXEs and WINE needs too many things to be updated for me to worry about it right now.

Maybe I’ll get it set up later, but with so insanely many games this year, I’ve gotta move on.

Mother Tongue

This game was sweet.

So, a personal fact that no one asked for: a huge regret as an adult is never learning Spanish as a kid. I just refused to communicate with relatives in Spanish, I didn’t want to learn it, etc. Things were complicated, to be fair, but anyway, I just never learned.

So this game, Mother Tongue, popped up in the top 3 games of my randomized list three times in a row. I kinda skimmed past it every time–I didn’t really want to play it, and when I thought about why, I realized it was reminding me of my own guilt. And when I realized that, I clicked Play.

The game is brief: it constitutes a single conversation between a mother and her child. The simulated text is great, and the dialogue was spot-on. I thought the premise was actually pretty perfect for a text-based game (and as a bonus, I learned a few Tagalog words!) The main “challenge” of the game as much as there is one lies in answering some Duolingo-esque grammar questions about Tagolog as the mother character teaches us. But the game does manage to approach issues of identity and culture, and additionally, by the end of the brief game, I felt like I had a good sense of the mother and her child, and their relationship. (To that first point, the “sometimes I don’t really feel Filipino” line hit home. Oof.)

My only points of constructive criticism are minor, in that I think this is an excellent game as-is, but that these considerations could be places for improvement. The first point I have is that the game ends abruptly. It is a simulated text conversation and that is realistic, but with nothing to inform me that the game had ended, or any change to the screen after the last message appears, it just felt abrupt. The second is that Tagalog differs from English in not just vocabulary, but also grammatical structure. The game sorta acknowledges that! But a native English speaker would probably find learning new vocab and syntax simultaneously pretty challenging and harder to retain. I’m not suggesting the author is trying to become the new language-learning app, so it really doesn’t matter–just something I can’t help but point out:)

A great little game. Makes me consider adding Spanish to my Duolingo…I guess it’s not too late.

Where the Wind Once Blew Free

This game purports itself to be Book 1 of a series called ANIMALIA (no relation to the previous IFComp game of two years ago called Animalia). I know some people in the past have noted that clearly titling an IFComp entry as part of a series is kinda presumptuous. I don’t really agree. I think people can always improve, and I hope authors do keep going no matter how their game fares, ideally taking into account their IFComp feedback and using it to improve.

So anyway, here we are with this debut game, and it definitely opens with the most positive first impression so far. I think this one definitely take’s this year’s slot for Stylish Game. It’s clear from the start that a lot of effort has been spent in making the game look and sound good.

The first interesting thing is that game has stats. Me? I love stats. Of interest here is the availability of “GOD MODE,” which gives you max everything and makes no branch, essentially, off-limits: the world is your oyster-human hybrid! I was actually pretty torn, but since IfComp limits judging to two hours and I wanted to explore as much as I could, I opted become GOD. In the back of my head, I was wondering about how stats work across the game, since the blurb seems to imply that you play as more than one character, and I did soon learn the answer–more on that later.

So, here we have a unique setting. Everyone (as far as I can tell) is a were-kin, an animal-human hybrid. (There’s brief mention of “Ancients,” which I think are implied to have been just normal humans, but I’m not sure). These animal-people live in the city of Mythicus, which sits uneasily in the shadow of a recent civil war. What’s particularly fascinating here is, despite the fabulist vibe in terms of lore, backstories, setting, etc, the animals appear to live in totally modern society. Our initial player character, Silver Bear, is driving a totally normal truck down a totally normal highway, and this trend continues throughout the game. It was surreal and off-putting and frankly, I’m here for it. I want to see a bear driving a goddamn pickup, and I never realized that til now.

Also, the game solves the classic awkward conundrum of having sentient people-animals coexisting with animal-animals with replacing the latter with “synth-” animals, though I’m not wholly sure what they are, in the end. I figured them to be machines, but they seem to feel pain and act like living things, and most importantly, are raised and slaughtered for meat.

So, this is a long one. I think it can easily extend past the hour-long estimate on the blurb. In terms of gameplay, most of the decisions you make are about closely examining the world around you, or deciding how a character should react or what they should think about. There are a few timed decisions–I know that’s a controversial mechanic in the IfComp-verse, but I liked it here. The countdown is clear, and in-game, it’s always used in a moment that made sense. For me, it actually added to the experience, putting me more in the character’s shoes, having to make a snap decision that could get someone killed. (And sometimes, did).

The UI, as mentioned, looks nice, though information appears in different places (I almost missed some of the extra attempts you can do, since they appear in blue text and I was pretty used to paying attention to the “main” orange-highlighted text by that point), and occasionally the sidebar disappears when you go into a sort of tangent in the story, resulting in the text being centered, which might be fine–I personally found it slightly distracting. These are minor issues though, and I thought the UI, the backgrounds, the menus, and the sounds and ambient music were all very fitting and well-chosen.

When it comes to the stats, these basically belong to the player overall, inherited from character to character. This is kind of odd, when you consider that this means the gruff old war vet and the young girl who lives on a farm with her aunt, for example, will share intellect, strength, etc. At times, though, the stats didn’t seem to even apply to the character, but rather to us as the player, performing as some kind of in-game invisible observer. For example, we can try to increase Pink Belly’s confidence, or probe his mind for information during a sequence in which he’s frozen in intimidation; I got a failure at this point that stated something like “Pink Belly is too scared to tell you more!”, which is interesting, because, again, it seems like I the player was using my skill to try to act on the in-game protagonists in an odd, surprisingly meta way. I don’t know that this was intended. However, I can certainly see why the creators chose to handle stats as a one-size-fits-all matter: it would be ridiculous to assign stats at the beginning of each chapter in which you control a new character.

The writing was okay. I thought that the main plot of the story–Pink Belly’s farm and the two foxes they’re hiding–was pretty engaging. I was also glad to see that the seemingly unrelated plot thread of Silver Bear comes full circle and meshes explosively with the story the game spends the most time tracing near the end. The protagonists were all interesting, from tired vet Silver Bear to Little Sidewinder, who escaped Fantasy-Mexico for undisclosed reasons with her aunt to Fantasy-Texas, where they found shelter with benevolent Pink Belly. The immediate antagonists of the story, Bobcat and his crew, are at times cartoonishly evil, but honestly, given what has come to pass in this last year alone, maybe that’s not terribly farfetched.

The world is, as I said, pretty interesting, though I also felt there’s a whole lot going on at once. There are spirits, and the wind on the prairie has been trapped. The bloodthirsty traitors who instigated the civil war are casually mentioned to have been literal vampires in a throw-away line. The animal-people are aware of their lineage (as former humans–well, not them, but their ancestors), and traces of human language remain. Since the entire cast are anthropomorphic animals, I feel the story could have been simplified by dropping the were-kin angle and just describing them as such–I think it gets much less confusing if you refer to the “bear” for example instead of “the hybrid”. Even though some of the cast are snakes, once the players read their physical descriptions, they’ll understand it. (And what are hybrid paws? Claw-tipped fingers? Freakishly dexterous bear claws? That phrase is used a lot, but it did nothing as a description for me).

I’m also [spoiler…

play it first]

not super sure why it was that Snapping Turtle really brought Silver Bear to that bluff. Was it to send him off? Had he preternaturally known that Kit Fox would be coming through, pursued by the evil Bobcat?–and if so, was it because he’d known that killing Bobcat would free the wind? Speaking of the wind, I was surprised by the ending I got in which the winds start blowing again after the demise of Bobcat and I guess whatever dark magic aura he maintained. Bobcat and the Javelinas are described by Pink Belly as “just three among many” of Longhorn’s enforcers. I figured Longhorn would be the final boss, and if anything the source of the evil.

This was a huge effort, though, and I think there’s much to praise. I was actually a bit saddened by Pink Belly’s death. That I felt for him impresses me more than anything. (It was also kinda nice to, as Kit Fox, just pick up a gun and start shooting).

I hope this is a series that the authors do in fact continue; I’d be interested in trying another one. As Bobcat would probably say, “Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?”

Doppeljobs

Ahh, the Doppelganger, my personal favorite monster. What underutilized unique potential it has! Little is as unsettling as being haunted by yourself.

In this game, though, our doppelganger is neither spirit nor omen, and it mostly means well. It seeks to integrate itself into the human culture that so fascinates it, and it has started a business, to that end.

Your job is become your clients for a bit, to do whatever unpleasant thing so they don’t have to go through it. I love this. Your first client is a man who’s sure he’s about to be fired, and he sends you in to be fired in his stead, for example. In the universe of this game, doppelgangers are a race of mythical shapeshifters who can take a person’s shape after eating some of their flesh (perhaps not eating, truly, as it seems that the form is released when the flesh is spit up). This is quite the unique take, I think, and I thought it was pretty cool.

The primary source of tension in the game was pretty fun. If you do people’s aforementioned tasks well, they pay you more. But our protagonist, excited and curious and new-ish to the world around them, is often distracted with opportunities to explore or learn, especially about the mythical sand-serpent beneath the city. You can pursue these at the cost of your performance as your client, in which you often want to be unobtrusive and blend in, which allows you to learn more about the in-game universe but will net you less money–as clients pay less the more you veer from their directions. This is a fantastic premise for a game, in my opinion.

I do have some reservations about the game’s implementation. One major thing that stands out–because it is central to gameplay–is that there was often a mismatch between how much money I should have and how much the game told me I had. At the end of the first job, I received 300. After my second job, I received 200, but the game informed me my total was 400 (I had not spent any of it! I chose to save it for my debt). After receiving 300 for my third job, I had a total of 700, so I guess that initial 100 I should’ve received was lost to the winds of the Sand City–a bit frustrating when a goal of the game is to reach 1,000 before the end.

Additionally, there is the fact that your character acquires some traits permanently from each previous human it has become. This is neat conceptually, and I think that what traits you modify is based on your actions during the job portions, in the vein of Birdland, for example. The implementation was subtle–and, IDK, a bit too obtuse. My character acquired patience, for example, but I hadn’t thought I’d acted particularly patient. Your traits sometimes limit future options, as, for example, near the end, I had acquired so much curiosity that I was forced to entertain a dangerous proposal. All of this shapes up into the one of several endings, which I presume are based on both how you spent your money (and if you paid off your debt), and other things like your final set of traits and how much you learned about the big ol’ sand snake.

The world-building is pretty interesting. I’m a sucker for a neat world. Snake races? Scattered tribes, chafing under a central government that seeks to funnel them into the common system? Sand plumbing (I still wish the game explained just why people are funneling sand into their homes and buildings in pipes…it’s got to be sand toilets, right? I hope not sand bidets). As mentioned already, I thought the doppelgangers themselves were cool, and the little glimpses of lore about their home in the Reverse Kingdom and, for example, that they can’t eat food.

In some places it did feel like if I pushed too hard, I could easily poke some holes in the world, though. If the doppelganger protagonist is a graduate from a whole School of Humanity, there is at least enough interest in humans and experience with humans to sustain that whole school. Yet, people often comment that they thought your kind existed only in myth. While it may simply be borne of the desire to move the plot along, there also exists a kinda weird paradox where other characters (clients, namely) don’t appear to think doppelgangers are real, but don’t express particular surprise at meeting one for real, and in fact had no doubts about you when they sought your services. Perhaps this is perfectly reflective of their culture, which, as in many real-world cultures, reserves a lot of room for superstition.

I also never really felt like I understood why my protagonist seemed so obsessed with the sand snake legend from the start.

My biggest qualm if anything was that the doppelganger has initially forgotten that it retains human traits after taking their form, which was a little hard to suspend disbelief for. I mean, you did that whole human school and started a business for doing exactly this, and then when directly asked if you would gain his personality and memories by a client you told him no, and then you’re like whoops oh yeah I permanently altered my personality–but really, this was more amusing than anything, and maybe a fluid creature like the doppelganger, who at one point describes itself as being like water, really would see such a thing as a trivial detail.

The writing was decent. There were enough grammatical anomalies that I wondered if perhaps the author is a second-language English speaker–mistakes that are commonly seen in speakers who come from languages with fluid SVO/SOV rules and no articles–and again, I’m not sure, but if this is case, I am massively impressed. If not, though, well…this game could have benefit from some major editing.

On the whole, a neat game that I really enjoyed.

The Turnip + The Pinecone

The IF community collectively has a long-ass memory. This is especially noticeable, I think, to someone who is a newcomer, and I consider myself a newcomer: I really only joined the scene four years ago in any active way, and the competition itself shares my age. But already, some trends seem to emerge after each year: I now have the perspective to begin noticing them. Classical sword-and-sworceries. Detective games. Eldritch horror. This is not a judgement I’m laying down on these games (Hell, I’ve contributed to the first two). It just seems that you can always count on at least one materializing in IFComp. And, too, like these genres, another type of game that sprouts each IFComp harvest: the Twine game that is questionably a game.

Boundaries are matters of contention. From my own perspective, if a piece is necessarily interactive, it’s a game. If the interaction is not integral, but augments the work in some way, it’s a story–usually a hypertext story. This is not an opinion informed by years of scholarship in interactive works, nor is it anything more than a shorthand, honestly (for example, does that mean Howling Dogs, a seminal work of interactive fiction is…not? I guess I would personally argue it is not a game, at least). If you’re wondering why the hell I’m waxing philosophical over here, it’s because works that are not games by my earlier definition do not tend to perform well in IFComp, perhaps because there seems to be an unspoken assumption that IFComp works are games.

I wouldn’t normally pair two games together for review, even if they share an author, but The Turnip and The Pinecone work so well for contrast and yet are so similar in ways that it just made sense to. The Turnip is, in my opinion, not a game, but a hypertext flash story, while The Pinecone is a game.

The key distinction is choice. There is no choice to be made in The Turnip. We continue on through the passages of our field worker’s life. We reach a sole ending–though I don’t believe that multiple endings are strictly necessary. It’s just a story, and it could work just as well in static print with very little difference. The Pinecone, by contrast, has us make a few decisions, and in the end we get one of apparently multiple endings.

In terms of the actual story, both are demure slice-of-like tales, briefly transplanting us into the shoes of someone going about a typical day in their daily life. In the Pinecone, the story largely frames an encounter with a rowdy goat, but there is little sense of tension; the stakes are low, and the goat is more a character of mild interest than a threat or plot vehicle. I found the world of The Turnip more interesting. Everyday we go to work in a field; our job is to dig holes, and our dog, who is perhaps unusually canny, or perhaps not, comes to work alongside us, and also digs holes. This is the kind of setting that I can already find a bit interesting, but just when I thought the story might be going somewhere–it ended. (A bit of a sidenote, but I was slightly surprised when the stories never overlapped in any way. I wondered if there’d be some cross-interaction, with two stories that appear so similar in format and IFComp blurb, but alas, they really were orthogonal).

I dunno. I think that to me, flash fiction is a very short story–but a complete one, with punch. You pack a lot in to carry that punch, and sentences work their asses off to carry the extra weight. Flash fiction isn’t a story that has simply been truncated. Bear in mind, however, that I’m a genre fiction author–perhaps my perspective is skewed here, and I would be interested to know what others think in this regard.

In conclusion, in terms of the merit of either work as a story, I feel neutral. As a game, The Pinecone’s very few choices are not super engaging or complex. Not poor, but not high on my list, I suppose, is how I see them both.

A longer version of either, though–that could be a neat read.

The Place

I’m not really sure what kind of a game I just played, to be honest.

It seems to be some sort of a reflective piece, in which my own desires are mapped onto this character (who I named Bell, for reasons that are unknown to also me, but I will refer to the protagonist as Bell for convenience from now on) via numerous prompts that ask questions about myself and receive inputted text. After all, it’s really about reflecting on my own decisions here (the blurb warns me rather bluntly that my choices “do not matter,” which–surely, that is not truly what the author meant to say?) and that is a general concept I can get behind–see my earlier discussions of Minor Arcana and DEVOTIONALIA.

But this whole game is about receiving text entry from me.

Primarily, I just don’t understand the purpose of this function, which, again, the entire game seems to have been conceived around. It’s not particularly robust–early on I typed “seventh” instead of the 7th it was clearly expecting, and it threw an error–but I knew it was probably not going to from the moment the game asked me a yes-or-no question and wanted “yes or no, but NO capitals.” It’s okay to not be comfortable with or want to expend the effort for complex parsing, but I think a better alternative would be forced-choice options. If you only want the user to be able to give “yes” or “no,” just give them only the options “yes” or “no”.

The writing style is simplistic and replete with some weird syntax, and I did not enjoy it. As I’ve said in other posts, I don’t relish leaving mostly negative reviews, and I mean this genuinely: I hope that if the author sees this, they are not discouraged, and continue to try IF.

It would be kinda cool if this game was secretly a means of collecting useless but neat information from people. I wonder what people’s favorite songs are?

Stand Up / Stay Silent

First, a tange of literally no value in this review: it was driving me nuts why I seemed so familiar with the title of this one only to discover it was clearly its own thing, and eventually I figured it out–I was thinking of the extremely similar name of the webcomic, Stand Still / Stay Silent. Aha, I thought. I should really go back and read more than the first two pages sometime. That’s, uh, really all there is to that tangent. Moving on.

I found the game much shorter than its thirty-minute estimate, unless replaying it is expected as part of the canonical experience, and I suspect it is. Generally, I really don’t know how I feel about this one. Primarily, the only two choices are to “Stand Up” or…yeah, you guessed it. And the impetus of the game is a cause I strongly support.

Mostly though, I’m chewing over the implementation of this game’s core idea in my head. Choose to help from the start, and [spoilers!

….go play it first.]

you join the greater cause, which is nice to see, and nothing bad happens to you or your comrades. And this feels like an oversimplification. Our protagonist and his significant other are clearly privileged, yes, and the game claims itself to be a fable, yes, so some degree of compression is expected, but still…it portrays a very hopeful ending wherein you are saved by the hand of the very woman you supported at the beginning. I’m down for a hopeful ending with the people taking shit into their own hands (and I could use that ending, tbh), but since the game itself is also, and truly, a call to arms…I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about that ending where nothing bad happens. People get their shit fucked. People make sacrifices. Fascist pigs in riot gear aren’t going to play by the rules. Reality is…messy. Should the game have acknowledged that? I don’t know. But its idealized ending is gleaming propaganda–and is that an issue? Again, I don’t know. Honest.

What I do take issue with to some degree is one of the other endings.

You can choose to stay silent at the beginning, and the woman in the bougie restaurant gets arrested. Then, if you join the cause after mulling it over (and the game criticizes your lack of empathy, and then implies the only reason you’d join the protest is because you’re worried about your SO, but okay)…you still get a bad ending! Which basically amounts to, “Oof, if only you’d joined up from the start, but now it’s too late!”

Is that really the message you wanna convey about this, of all things? “You missed your boat, now it’s definitely too late”? Realistically, even if you missed your first opportunity to make a difference–even if you missed your first fifteen–the moment you decide to help, to go out and protest, to put your money where it’s needed or use your privilege to shore up defenses for the most vulnerable, it makes a difference. It helps. It’s not too late to help, and help is still needed, actively, now. And for a game whose goal is to recruit, I think it sorely missed the mark here.

As a game, like I said, I dunno, but I will say the passages were solidly written.

At the end of the game, along with a clear message–Black Lives Matter–a comprehensive list of resources are provided to inform oneself and get involved. Regardless of the quality of this piece as a game, that list, and this game’s entry into the competition, are action. I respect that.

Nothing else to say here, really. Black Lives Matter.

Lore Distance Relationship

Heads-up: I couldn’t get this game to work in Firefox, but it loaded fine in Chrome.

All right, first thing’s first: despite being both an out queer and having played Neopets as a kid back in its heyday, I just don’t think I’m the target audience for this piece. I suspect it resounds more with a different generation (or intra-generation, or sub-generation, or something) of young queer people who explored their identity first online, and found a network of kindred spirits on websites like Neopets or Tumblr or whatever, which probably provided a much-needed sense of community and some support.

That said, I recognized some of the game’s references (ahh, the pain of dial-up loading times), and the writing of both the fake website and of the children was convincing and definitely informed by real experience with such sites.

The gameplay wasn’t quite what I expected from the description. I expected a simulated website, but it turns out that Ruffians is experienced in the form of static images and choice selection for the chat conversations. I found it pretty counter-intuitive that I wasn’t supposed to click the buttons in the website in the game’s opening (despite the narration instructing our character to do so), especially because I had to scroll down to see the large cursor image. Even then, probably because, as I said, I was expecting different, it took me a moment that I had to click on the cursor image to continue. Once I realized this, it was smooth sailing, but I can’t help but think of it as kind of a wasted opportunity, though designing a complete fake website would admittedly be way more effort and challenge.

The story was endearing, though–and this is where my disclaimer at the start, about this game not really being aimed at me, comes into play–there were some things that felt like odd choices to me, but are perhaps completely normal to those more immersed in this culture. I was immediately suspicious of Bee, instinctively, even though I knew from the game’s blurb she probably wasn’t a threat, when she asked my character’s age, but this suspicion subsided pretty immediately. I was also glad that Rachel represents our character’s older supervision of sorts, but I was also pretty surprised that she encourages our young protagonist to roleplay with a stranger, with no further questions asked. (Speaking of Rachel, though, I thought the voice acting was a pretty decent effort. I was surprised to play a voice-acted IFComp game.) And all that said, Rachel was definitely the MVP of the story.

On the whole, it was a cute slice-of-life kinda sim. It was nice to see a story about young queer characters (and, potential spoiler, but disabled as well) that acknowledges some of the difficulties they face but also lets good things happen to them. The plot could’ve had more tension, yeah, but I didn’t want it to. Let the kids be happy. (There’s the tired queer man in me.) It was also nice to see Bee’s dad was a responsible and kind adult, and that both the young protagonists were aware of things like establishing boundaries.

The writing was pretty perfect. The way the kids chatted as they grew up perfectly captured their linguistic skills and typing skills at every stage, I felt. Writing little kids effectively is hard, people usually actually underestimate their grasp of language and fail to really communicate in the ways kids do (I am confident in saying this as a psycholinguistic researcher who works with young children), and honestly, Norbez nailed it.

So, yeah, there you have it. I thought highly of this one.

And the “check your dying Neopets” link at the end made me grin. I’m sure after twenty years mine are dust…