Thirst for Blood, by Zeno Pillan
This review was originally conceived as opening with an extended attempt to theorize a distinction between the zany and the whimsical. But I scrapped it when I realized a) I wasn’t really coming up with a compelling point of differentiation besides “stuff is zany when it’s random and I don’t really like it, but it’s whimsical when it’s random and I do,” and b) all the intro was doing was building up to saying that I found Thirst for Blood charming, which feels eminently bottom-lineable.
So yeah, this short parser game about being a mosquito in search of sweet, sweet blood also manages to hit a sweet spot. This is a fun conceit but also a potentially limiting one: obviously a mosquito should have a very different set of capacities and way of seeing the world, but they also can’t interact with the world in very many ways beyond flying and biting. Thirst for Blood wisely deals with this by keeping its running time tight and its playing field small (you’re looking to suck blood from a single human in a small hotel room), so that the novelty of being able to fly everywhere and being tiny doesn’t have time to wear off. The writing also does a good job of highlighting unique aspects of the mosquito’s perceptions, like its ability to taste carbon dioxide, while hewing to parser-game conventions to avoid needless disorientation – it winds up an effective balance, even if the idea of a mosquito navigating via compass directions makes me giggle. And while the central problem of getting food to grow your eggs is simple to resolve, there are also a few small surprises that unlock an alternate ending if you poke around a bit, offering enough beyond the critical path to reward exploration without getting bogged down in tedium.
I won’t spoil what those easter eggs point to, but to return to my opening theme, it’s something so bafflingly out of left field that I gave a happy laugh when I figured out the twist. So yeah: Thirst for Blood is thick with whimsy, making this small game punch well above its weight. Like, it turns out that the mosquito can read, but this absurdity is presented so matter-of-factly I couldn’t help but find it charming. And the writing is enthusiastic and gleeful about presenting its gags – some small idiosyncrasies of style make me wonder whether the author might not be a native speaker of English, but either way, the occasional typo is a small price to pay for some memorable turns of phrase and a real commitment to its jokes that makes sure they land:
> x door
The door is closed, there is no gap to pass to the other side and a key in the keyhole prevents you from passing there.> x key
D minor.
Sure, there are some players who’d say that’s the kind of thing that tips a game over into the dreaded pit of zaniness, but by my lights Thirst for Blood stays on the golden path of whimsy, a lovely light little thing that knows it’s enough to create just a few moments of joy. Not bad for a tiny bloodsucker!