Just some quick couple sentences on the entries I’ve played so far, in semi-random order.
Burger Meme Personality Test
A satire of those awful corporate personality tests that they force applicants to endure even for the most menial jobs. Pick bootlicking or rebellious options, and watch the in-universe “AI-powered” analysis wash over you. It’s mostly variations on the same joke, but it’s a good joke.
The Litchfield Mystery
Distinguishes itself from other manor murder mysteries through a simulated real-time evidence analysis process (I think turn-based?). This was an interesting way to keep the game moving without overwhelming with found details. The clues were solid with a couple of quirky details that added character. Q: Is there is a way to actually, physically remove the murder weapon from where it is?
A small point is that I occasionally felt unmoored from the historical countryside setting by modern-sounding dialogue (“That’s all for now, buddy.”) I hope this author continues making these–I’ll be checking out the other entries.
The Breakup Game
Essentially an interactive life advice article helping you work through a breakup. I tried to engage with the premise sincerely, though I’m happily married and my last breakup was coming up on a decade ago. This meant that I didn’t relate to some of the prose. It’s a sweet little confidence booster, though, and I think someone who had gone through a recent breakup would enjoy it.
The Semantagician’s Assistant
Escape an unexpectedly hands-on job interview for a magician who can transform reality through altering the letters in a word. Most of your options are out in the open upfront, and I spent a long time trying to get something in the room to work. It goes pretty snappily once you figure out the first step. I think it was the correct decision to limit the scope for a comp game, though I would have liked to play longer (there are inevitable comparisons to the scope of Counterfeit Monkey, which Semantagician references a few times).
The Witch Girls
This was a great little cake slice of horror. Two middle schooler wannabe witches attempt to summon boyfriends for themselves, with a variety of unsettling outcomes depending on how well you raided cabinets for off-brand ingredients. “Young girl’s burgeoning sexuality” is well-trodden ground in the genre, and can sometimes veer into trite territory, but Witch Girls never falls into that trap. It feels incredibly grounded in a time and stage of life, and the multiple endings lend a creepy ambiguity to the proceedings. “We don’t do love magic” always got a dark chuckle, and made the two endings where it was absent all the more unnerving.