This is my first time judging for IFComp, so I’m excited to write up my thoughts on the games so far. Thank you volunteers for organizing this event and authors for making the games!
While I’m aiming to play all games (randomized order), this thread will be about the games where I have something interesting and hopefully constructive to say. I expect my reviews to be long writing exercises on my end, haha…
The Gift of What You Notice More by Xavid and Zan
I’m always fascinated by puzzle Twine games with inventories because there’s the obvious question, “Why not parser?”, that lingers in the background. Many answer that question differently – and with this game, there’s several reasons but one particular reason stands out the most: it evokes transient, elliptical connections that remind the player is never fully in control, which is perfect for a story like this.
Your player character is packing up things in the middle of the night. Scattered around the apartment are photos of the past, of what felt like better days now long gone. But as the player mindlessly clicks hyperlinks to figure out where to go next, they’ll stumble upon three poets in a cafe who cryptically ask them to consider (and interact with) some old history between the player character and someone whose name is obscured. There, the game finally opens up and reveals its true self, a meditative journey on the meaning of memories and what to do with them in the face of necessary change.
As I played through the game, I’m reminded of Amanda Walker’s After the Accident and especially Steve Evans’s Photograph: A Portrait of Reflection as both games explore flashbacks as interactive spaces and are relatively puzzleless. However, The Gift of What You Notice More takes a more dream-like puzzle game approach: it has light adventure game puzzles that border on the surreal. These memories are to be puzzled out, grasped, shaken to their fuller meaning by the player character. They are, in other words, allegories that only make sense to this character.
I think this is the main reason why this game has to be hypertext. In parser games, you have a direct connection to the player character because you’re typing their actions. Clicking on links feels more detached. The player character in Twine games always feels more autonomous than their parser counterparts. Some decisions we as players make in the game feel life-changing, but we won’t see their results. Their consequences are secrets only known to the player character.
As a result, the title was more of a spiritual journey for the player character than the player, despite it being written in second-person. It feels like I’ve just played through someone’s dream-diary except it’s lightly dressed up as an adventure game. This is likely why I couldn’t connect with the player character, but at the same time, it felt good to help them achieve their goals. The game itself is therapeutic for the character and their resolution to change things resonates with me.
That said, I don’t think the puzzle design is perfect.
My issues boil down to two things:
You have to keep going back and forth between the poets and the photos in order to advance the game state, which can be quite cumbersome.
I came into the game assuming all the puzzles in each memory are internally solvable, but some puzzles require items that are only acquirable in a future game state. It’s frustrating to advance a puzzle so far only to be confused why I haven’t found the next step. In the end, I ended up following the walkthrough, which is a shame because I was enjoying the strange puzzles.
But overall, I like The Gift of What You Notice More because it’s simply an uplifting game that inspires and soothes. While I’ve seen the subject matter played out before in different contexts, its use of hyperlinks and allegorical constructions of memory evokes the relatable tensions of uncertainty, powerlessness, and the necessity to change. I came out of the game feeling like I had just helped someone untangle their feelings, and that’s not an experience I get to have in games every day.
Xanthippe’s Last Night with Socrates by Victor Gijsbers
We know little about Socrates. We know even less about Xanthippe, the second wife of Socrates. And yet, here is a story that imagines their last romantic night together before the esteemed philosopher took the hemlock.
As historical fiction, it teeters on the edge of implausibility. As an homage to the philosophy of Socrates, it is deeply Platonic and not very Socratic. But as a fantasy that disrupts our popular notions of the past, it does the job quite well.
On the Dedication page, Gijsbers writes that we’ll never know who Xanthippe is or what she’s like. However, it is possible to “complicate our idea of her; reimagine her; give her a voice that is necessarily our own voice.” Putting on the mask of Xanthippe (and Socrates by extension) in the theater of interactive fiction brings them back to life and lets us “dwell in possibility”. They speak with our voices, of course, but “the dead do not resent us.” Instead, they will recognize this dialog between Xanthippe and Socrates as necessary “for our sake”.
Keeping in the spirit of relevance, the game revels in our current vernacular of love-making: Xanthippe calls Socrates her “big man” and may choose to stroke his cheek. She wants to fulfill her marital duties and the player can make her pounce on poor Socrates. It is no wonder then that Gijsbers’s version of Socrates often shudders at her actions. Grumpy at first glance, he is actually vulnerable to Xanthippe’s sensuality. He becomes apologetic after a fit of rage and even uncertain of his own beliefs when he talks to her – a far cry from the popular image of the individualistic Socrates from Plato’s Apology. But it’s also later revealed that both characters lead adulterous lives because they can’t help it. Socrates even gets a feminist lecture from Xanthippe about the sex workers he’s involved with because they might not be consenting figures. As a result, their relationship has the baggage of most contemporary amours, but they choose to stay together in Socrates’s final hours. Their love transcends time and space itself. I imagine their affection is strong enough to melt even the most stoic of hearts.
This is only possible because we have a rigid conception of the Ancient Greek world. We read in Plato’s Phaedo that Socrates drinks the hemlock because he believes in his own philosophy and is first and foremost an Athenian citizen. A simple shift in this narrative changes everything. Socrates is not the ubermensch of Platonic philosophy in this story; he is someone who loves Xanthippe in his own way and he owes his life and death to her. Everything in Phaedo, from the Forms to the immortality of the soul, is attributed to his love for Xanthippe. She is his muse and, echoing Stephen Granade’s romantic masterpiece of age and death, he “will not let her go”. This work reframes everything we know about Socrates and his philosophy into a love ode for Xanthippe.
It’s ahistorical and improbable, but the fantasy in Xanthippe’s Last Night with Socrates is so strong that I want to believe in it. Those amorous embraces between those two characters we’ll never know feel so real to me because I know it’s fiction. The dialectical tensions between anachronisms and the quasi-historical details only speak to a higher understanding on why the love of wisdom feels so empty.
Perhaps, Socrates never loved Sophia. Xanthippe is a “horny cow” who sees Socrates as a “beast” that knows how to make her feel good. She’s a far more beautiful figure than wisdom herself.
Thanks! I love this review. 
I’m genuinely glad that someone with more insight into the characters and the Greek world was able review your game so soon after mine (my review). I wouldn’t have known whether the scenario was plausible or not, historically, but in either case I came away finding it fun to imagine that something like that could have happened.
DICK MCBUTTS GETS KICKED IN THE NUTS by Hubert Janus
DICK MCBUTTS GETS KICKED IN THE NUTS is about a guy named Dick McButts who gets kicked in the nuts. That’s the entire story in a nutshell. However, questions remain: How did Dick McButts get kicked in the nuts? Who did this? Where? Why?
These pertinent questions deserve to be answered by the most curious players of interactive fiction. While I recognize that people may feel uncomfortable about this game, this is actually a witty work that plays with the expectations and mediums of interactive fiction. It rewards curiosity and good faith with tons and tons of silly humor. In fact, it’s most interesting when we realize it’s having a deep conversation with us about how it’s using the craft of interactive fiction to achieve its one goal.
But it sure doesn’t mind giving players a bad first impression. Unlucky players with less patience may stumble upon a colorful bonanza riddled with typos and punctuation. They will be forced to read the epic highs and lows of the nut-kicking saga between Dick McButts, Adolf Hitler, and, of course, Darth Vader. Their session ends all of a sudden, with a red hyperlink that goes to nowhere.
If those players keep at it, or – as in my case – get lucky the first time, they’ll get a more normal-looking page. If we pop up the Twine editor and look up the game’s code, we can marvel at the Freudian symbiology and also uncover a script that can randomly put any player into two different game states: the aforementioned battle royale with Darth Vader and the calmer and more fleshed out DICK MCBUTTS GETS KICKED IN THE NUTS scenario.
The Dick McButts in the latter scenario is calmer and more intelligent. Unfortunately, he’s also aware of the game’s title and hates it. He wants to avoid this terrible fate. There are many scenes where the player must choose between two ridiculous options: one option is the correct one and the other choice results with Dick McButts getting kicked in the nuts. McButts may lament all he wants, but he’ll soon be chased by cyborgs with impressive hydraulic legs ready to deliver the final blow. At one point, a time-traveling Hitler materializes into existence and McButts simply has to deal with it. And somehow, the absurdity keeps on escalating from there: Chapter 2 begins, Fanny McTits doesn’t want her nips to be flipped, and the ending defies explanations. This whole scenario is a cinematic romp full of crude humor – and I loved it!
But I understand why people might be put off by this game: it’s just a one-note joke, nothing more and nothing less. The game is so proud of this that it refuses to consider alternative ideas. That approach will ruffle many people’s feathers and it’s almost certain it’ll win the Golden Banana of Discord.
At the same time, I also find its commitment to this one single joke inspiring and ballsy. This title was a creative shitpost with a surprising amount of depth thrown at an unsuspecting public. Everyone may choose to laugh at it or with it. Those who laugh with it will find deep within the game a genuine appreciation for what makes interactive fiction fun and engaging: the choices, the little snippets of text revealed, the comedic timing… all in service of a nutty joke. The real comedy comes not from the copious amounts of immature humor; it comes from the fact that someone has dedicated their passion to the craft of interactive fiction to make a bombastic work about jokes about genitalia. The fact the author is willing to hide that makes the work even funnier to me.
DICK MCBUTTS GETS KICKED IN THE NUTS is delightfully juvenile because it encourages curiosity into its one-note joke. I am left with questions like “Why?” and “How?” because it’s so strange and weird. It leaves an impact on me, not so different from getting kicked in the nuts. But instead of cowering in pain, I am crying with laughter at how much effort the author had to put into this game. I won’t be able to get up for a while and that’s okay.
Sometimes, you gotta let the pain do its thing. It’s part of the joke.
This is a wonderful and detailed review of the game.
I very much felt similarly RE the humour, the (colourful and inventive) repetition of the joke at the heart of this game had an escalating feel for me. It reminded me of those moments when a stand up might take a “low brow” joke and by expanding outwards in unforeseen ways bring the punchline back over and over to greater and greater comic effect. A great example is the comedian Stuart Lee’s “Shillbottle” routine.
I also fell deep into the type of curiosity mentioned in your review.
This game is an antidote for those obsessed with personal histories and their ultimate meaning.
We first learn that this game was originally created in 1993 by a thirteen-year-old Eddie Hughes. It was rediscovered by a forty-year-old Ed Hughes in 2020, and the version we have includes his thoughtful commentary. Hughes has also helpfully provided us with maps of the game in the form of his old math notebook. And as we’ll learn later, the game is a recreation of the old lake house and the time he and his good friend Richard spent at the lake.
As the player progresses through the game, the author seems to gain and lose interest in a work he was once obsessed with but now barely remembers. Hughes laughs and apologizes for his younger self’s antics – a fully realized house with descriptive rooms like More Halls is very funny – but the player will almost immediately encounter oddities. They can’t go to his sister’s room – in the maps provided, it’s blotted out. Why are we collecting memory shards? The more we traverse, the more personal this game becomes.
It’s very tempting to compare it to B.J. Best’s other old-IF-in-IF work, And Then You Come to a House Not Unlike the Previous One. Not only are they reminiscences of the past via interactive fiction but they relate to the relevance of the past and interactive fiction in our present. That work is, however, a coming-of-age relationship between two adolescents. We are playing the game with someone who is reflecting on his youth.
Instead, the game is more like Drew Cook’s Repeat the Ending as both include fictional commentary and also look to the past for meaning. In Cook’s game, we find an affirmation of interactive fiction as a mode of artistic expression. We leave that game emotional and hopeful for Cook’s growth.
In Hughes’s game, we find nothing.
What remains of LAKE ADVENTURE is an adventure game full of bad memories not worth revisiting. Hughes doesn’t want to remember how heartbroken he was over his sister’s death from leukemia nor does he want to think about Richard’s death after drifting apart for so long. But the past has caught up with him and won’t let go.
The finale gives me dread, especially since it felt like I was roped into relive his trauma. I wonder what went through the minds of young and old Eddie. Why did they put me through this torment? I guess they just didn’t know what they were getting into – and that’s the really terrifying thing about rediscovering memories: we don’t know what’s going to come out of it.
This game is my nightmare. It goes against my beliefs about the importance of memories and traumas in autobiographical works, but I cannot simply look away from it. I know I have to stare at its truth because it is after all naive to believe that uncovering and reliving memories is unconditionally good for you. It can harm you. It can compound your trauma. It makes you remember what you’ve rightfully forgotten. You become an empty shell, begging “ancient history” to fill you with something, but all you’ve really done is widen the hole in your heart.
LAKE ADVENTURE is a tragedy for Ed Hughes and people like me who seek comfort in introspection. We can only relive the past for so long before it hurts us in our most vulnerable. Only through forgetting some memories can we find real meaning in our personal histories.
Great review - I like how you tease out differences with other works in this emerging micro-genre! I tested this game but sounds like there were some changes since then, so especially looking forward to checking out the final form.
BTW, compounding the horror, I’m pretty sure Ed is 40, not 30 (we’re almost the exact same age, which wasn’t a pleasant revelation lol).
Numbers are hard.
Gestures Towards Divinity by Charm Cochran
The works of Francis Bacon evoke different reactions for good reason. He inspires controversy and awe. But as the game’s blurb points out, “This game is not about him.”
We are first introduced to him through plaques explaining his overall life story and his triptychs. As we view his works, the middle panel beckons us to LOOK CLOSER. We accidentally enter these paintings and emerge into his strange, surrealistic visions. There, depending on which triptych we’ve gone through, we can talk to a Fury, George Dyer, and Dyer’s corpse.
The entire game revolves around exhausting conversation trees between these characters in the artworks and the people in the gallery. By asking around, we’ll learn about what Bacon has thought about life, art, God, the soul, love, and some more. While it may remind players of Emily Short’s influential Galatea, this game is mechanically far simpler: you’ll be switching back and forth between different characters to unlock new topics to talk about.
While the gameplay was tedious, I couldn’t satisfy my curiosity. I wanted to know more about Francis Bacon’s art and how people understood them. Why are people so drawn and repelled toward his works? Is there some deeper meaning or could it simply be nothing at all? What was his relationship with Dyer? Why did he paint the Fury like that? Is the painting of the corpse just shock art or is there more to it?
As we ask these questions to different people, we begin to get a portrait of an artist from different perspectives. One fan sees him as a surrealist artist capable of subversion and bold new ideas. A detractor, on the other hand, finds his work too grotesque and even opportunistic. But those who are close to him – the models of his work – see him as someone who craves masochistic pleasure and forced his partners to replace for his long-lost desire. He desires violence upon himself. For those who remain unconvinced and decide to investigate the question of Bacon’s intentions even further, you’ll have the opportunity to “talk” to his self-portrait at the end of the game. He doesn’t respond to anything you ask him because he seems too interested in himself as an artist. But you can tell him who he is, and he screams, implying you taught him something he didn’t realize he had all along. At any point in the game, we can leave the gallery and get on with our lives.
Whether you dug through every topic or not, the game suspends its judgment on Bacon’s art. We are left with our own voices to find out how we feel about his work. In my case, I wasn’t aware he was a real figure until I started writing this review and I found his work beautiful. But his actions are inexcusable to me: he was an incorrigible, abusive artist who profited from people’s misery for the sake of art. At the same time, he’s been dead for so long that I don’t have an ethical problem with his work being seen all over the world. Other people could disagree with me and that’s fine.
This game is not about Francis Bacon the artist. It’s about how the people inside and outside his works are affected by them.
When we ask people and the subject matter questions about Bacon’s art and philosophy, we’re actually teasing out something else entirely: our lives. Bacon is simply an author-function; his biographical details don’t really matter. His works are the real focal point. What’s more important is what we take away from it, and that journey is always meaningful.
As for me, his works and this game embody the sadder parts of queer desire. What we desire is often taboo because we cannot decouple love and dehumanization from our thinking. Losing it hurts even more because we can’t talk about what we’ve lost. Shame and fear drive us into abstraction, into talking about nothing else because words and gestures no longer reflect our state of mind.
Is it so wrong for us to seek it?
Gestures Towards Divinity, like other works of art, cannot answer that question. All we can do is enter the game and explore it. Perhaps, we could chance upon some important truth that even their creators don’t know – or we don’t. Satisfying or lacking, they are all we have.
Whatever the case, our personal answers we find are always gesturing toward something. Our curiosity is what makes art divine to us.
Thank you for this kind review!
You’re not the first to find some of the gameplay tedious–believe it or not, the amount of suggested topics was significantly cut down during testing! I expect to cut it down a little more in a post-comp release. I’m also planning on updating the walkthrough to list every topic you can ask each character about, suggested or not, for the sake of the curious.
I also want to thank you for engaging with the game’s themes in such a thoughtful way–you’re maybe the first to recognize (out loud at least) several of the more obscure ones.
This is wonderful to hear. Concision might be of great benefit to this game — or at least, I think some topics and answers can be combined with each other. I find it strange that topics like soul are even a thing when we’ve broached the subject elsewhere.
I would also like to suggest that the mechanic with the barista be toned down. I didn’t mention it in the review, but I had to quickly restart the game because I had nothing to buy to placate her. I already bought the water bottle for an achievement. I couldn’t talk to her and since I wanted to see all of the game’s content, I had to restart. Indeed, I wonder if the quasi-softlocks in the game are necessary.
And I suppose it’d be nice if people are able to encounter the final scene without completionism. My partner was interested in the game after learning it’s about an artist they studied in multiple classes and they seem to like that you’ve brought up the more taboo parts of his life, but they were bogged down by the topics and parts of the gameplay. I know I had to tell them you can talk to the characters, a fact I only realized by reading the achievement list. They might return to the game at least.
I think this is a game people would love and appreciate if there was a bit more quality of life.
Thank you for making this lovely title! It definitely made me rethink how art affects us in interesting ways. I look forward to sharing the post-comp release.
There actually is a way without buying anything (and I’ve updated the walkthrough to indicate it)—You can apologize to her and she’ll re-engage, albeit a bit more reticent.
One King to Loot Them All by Onno Brouwer
High-octane action doesn’t lend itself well to adventure game engines designed for exploration and puzzles. Indeed, it’s almost impossible to imagine parser games without some exploration and puzzling.
But this game presents an alternative and perhaps more exciting approach to interactivity. Originally made for the Single Choice Jam, its spartan design allows no room for superfluous commands for players to get stuck on. You are a barbarian who’s taken over the kingdom, not some lowly adventurer. You have no need for the standard Inform 7 verbs: you don’t open chests, you loot them. You smite any instances of downtime, regard the rich textual descriptions, and march toward the antagonist for one final showdown. And if you simply want to indulge in the spectacle, you can switch on and off the story mode at any point in the game.
You are the One King to Loot Them All.
Your interest in this game begins and ends in how interested you are in the spectacle of sword-and-sorcery stories. The game abandons any pretense of more conventional interactive fiction sensibilities; it instead revels in the genre as a pastiche. Love it or hate it, all the cliches are there. It will not attempt to subvert the genre or go beyond. The game simply asks for your commitment to roleplaying as this barbarian king.
This straightforward approach to storytelling may be too old-fashioned for many people, but adapting it to a parser work makes the story refreshing to me. Like Plundered Hearts, the game seems uninterested in IF works before it – the implementer was unaware of Treasures of a Slaver’s Kingdom weeks after they started developing the game and the only influence it had was on the help system – but it’s definitely infatuated with the sword-and-sorcery genre and is more than happy to learn from it. The stories of Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Barbarian and C.L. Moore’s Jirel of Joiry are all about escalating tension. They’re always in danger, but once they’ve killed their enemies, more will appear – and there will be more bloodshed. Only when they’ve slain everyone will they finally put down their swords and axes. I can’t imagine how much effort it would take to adapt these conventions to the Inform 7 engine, but it’s definitely worth the effort. Scenes feel seamless as you encounter one obstacle after another. Your actions are always purposeful and move the story forward. And the descriptions feel authentic to anyone who’s read their fair share of sword-and-sorcery works. Playing it brought back fond memories of immersing myself in the world of pulp fiction.
But it’s more than that: when I type in the words and read the player character swooping the corpses away, I feel like I’m actually interacting with the story. I’m brought into the power fantasy not just as a macho hunk, but as someone who can meaningfully change the state of the game world. To borrow from Jimmy Maher’s appraisal of Plundered Hearts, it’s close to the “Infocom ideal of interactive fiction” because there’s a “narrative urgency” that pushes players and events to move forward. It’s interactive and fiction the way I thought of those terms: there’s a lot of action going on and we, the players, have to interact with it.
One King to Loot Them All is therefore not just an orthodox version of sword-and-sorcery fiction. It may open up new avenues for interactive fiction as a medium, perhaps taking a cue from a recent review of Plundered Hearts that brought up the notion of “story-forward games” from another review. We can seize these opportunities if we dare to break this paradigm and try something different. They don’t have to be a minority. The promise of interactive fiction is still great, and I look forward to seeing more works with action-heavy plots like this terrific game.
I’d question that. Obligatory disclaimer: I haven’t played One King myself yet, so I could be off base here. But your review leaves me with the strong impression that this is a game which takes inspiration from Treasures of a Slaver’s Kingdom, which also features a pillaging barbarian with a custom verb set (also including regard and seize).
@Kastel, thank you for your review of my game. The Single Choice Jam inspired me to try to tell a story in the way the game presents it, and make the player participate in it. I hoped the momentum of the story would be strong enough to pull the player in and maybe forget they are being pulled along, and just enjoy the story.
@JoeyAcrimonious, I became aware of Treasures of a Slaver’s Kingdom a few weeks after I started writing my story and building a game engine to run it. I wanted to create a game for the Single Choice Jam and wanted to use a limited verb set (instead of the 70+ verbs Inform7 has by default), to avoid the “verb hunting” which might ensue if I would stick to the default, slowing down the game progress for the player and losing momentum. I discussed it here:
In fact the very existence of this game almost caused me to abandon the entire project. If I had known of it beforehand, I might have picked a different theme instead of the swords and sorcery theme I used here. Instead I chose to take it in as a coincidence and borrowed its help menu style for my own help menu. That is the only influence it had on my game.
The only Conan-related game I was aware of which also has a more or less linear storyline is The Tower of the Elephant - Details (ifdb.org), based on another Conan short story by Robert E. Howard.
I was aware of the context that Breuwer was writing in because he talked about it on Discord, but I probably should’ve mentioned this in retrospect. People will probably ask the same thing once I cross-post this review onto IFDB. Thanks for pointing it out.
My Pseudo-Dementia Exhibition by Naomi Norbez
(cw: abuse from parents and institutions, mental health, suicide)
Bez realized he’s having difficulty remembering things.
This made him feel like he wasn’t in control of his life. After an unspecified traumatic incident (“my mother did something terrible to me (which I am not ready to discuss fully yet)”), he tried to end his life. He was sent the ER, later psych ward, and finally through several residential treatment facilities for a total of 14 months. During his time there, he learned that he was suffering from pseudodementia, a range of psychiatric conditions that results in symptoms similar to dementia but is thankfully reversible on treatment.
But 14 months is a long time. This game – or shall I say, museum exhibition – charts his time in these facilities as he struggles to recover from pseudodementia and the abuses of mental health institutions.
In lieu of memoir conventions where we simply read scenes like a novel, Bez has selected notebooks, a few photographs, rants scribbled on notebooks, young adult literature, and so on for all of us to see. They are mundane items, but they mean a lot to him. Each object has a powerful history that is detailed on the plaques. Unlike most museum exhibitions, the plaques offer a deluge of text and sometimes hyperlinks to a .txt file explaining the significance of the item to Bez. After we’re done contemplating, we move onto the next room and read more text.
As we navigate through this curated history of objects, we learn that Bez was unable to return home after his time in residential care because his abusive father refused to allow him to return. He was reluctantly moved between different residential facilities and each exhibit room represents the length of time he spent in each one. Every step brings him closer to the “real world”, but the facilities differ in quality. The first residential facility allowed Bez to connect with a neurologist who believed he had pseudodementia and even tried to accommodate his gender identity. The second consistently misgendered him. There are also different levels of care that he must undergo, resulting in limbo and long waits.
In return, stickers declaring his pronouns become more prominent on his notebooks and folders. More and more objects clarify and deepen his own understanding of who he is, but the end of the exhibition reminds us that there’s still a long way to go: “Recovery is not a destination you can reach; it’s a mountain you can choose to climb.”
After writing my thoughts on the guestbook, I thought I had little to say about this game. It was a sweet and poignant time capsule. But I kept returning to it because this autobiography has emotional weight. The objects have so much potency that they feel as important as the historical artifacts I’ve seen in museums; Bez’s folders are just as compelling as a cannon recovered from the Battle of Waterloo. And like other exhibitions, this game has taught me about the inner workings of mental health institutions in the US and how patients are treated especially in regards to gender-affirming care. I really appreciate how honest Bez’s depictions are.
And parts of the game resonate with me because my life changed after I contracted COVID-19. While I never suffered memory loss, I was (and still am) constantly tired and could only maintain a “normal” life by following certain routines. I 100% share Bez’s thoughts on recovery.
My Pseudo-Dementia Exhibition is a gorgeously personal exhibit that is worth visiting at least once. Although it deals with some painful subjects, it hugs you and reminds you to keep living beyond your doubts. And as you learn to recover, every object you interact with along the way is special and important – you should take note of it.
There is also Conan Kill Everything, though it is questionable if it really qualifies as Conan-related, as the author admits to never having read a Conan story and not knowing much about him.
EDIT: It is kind of interesting as a one-room, limited-verb game, though.