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Will Dad Quest explain the mystery of where all these dads keep coming from?
Dads: what are they? Where do they come from? Why are they here? And how have these pod people managed to replace a full half of Rock, Paper, Shotgun? Some say games can offer powerful insight into others' lives but, beyond Shower With Your Dad Simulator, almost all dad games star raging goons who stomp out the teeth of anyone who goes near their daughter…
Feature: How I learned to stop worrying and tolerate the job
I'm out of my mind. I ate a creepy eyeball and got a new perspective on life. A woozy, trippy, ever-so-slightly nightmarish first-person perspective, instead of a cutesy, plinky-plonky third-person one. My ongoing quest to rid the off-world streets of garbage was replaced by a desperate drive to find anywhere even slightly familiar, and from there orientate myself back to my shabby studio apartment and…
Diaries of a Spaceport Janitor [official site] made Alice swoon at the idea of cleaning up rubbish in a colourful and bustling spaceport. That’s probably because it looks like a brighter and happier Bernband. Well, good news for Alice and anyone else in love with the creator's gifs – it’s coming out next week. Come see what if looks like in motion.
What is Diaries of a Spaceport Janitor [official site]? Not entirely sure. Don't really care. Some kind of wander-o-read-a-clean 'em in a bustling spaceport? Dunno. The point is, Sundae Month's game looks delightful! We may not get to play it until spring, but for now I'm enjoying a whole load of lovely moving pictures.
Éric Chahi's Another World did many things right, but what I believe it really excelled at was conveying the feeling that you were somewhere drastically different. Somewhere otherworldly yet also sensible and at times familiar and this is the exact same sensation Sundae Month's Petrichor manages to re-create.
As the leaves start to fall, so too the balance of my humours slips. My blood sinks and, as I'm naturally dry of yellow bile, my body is swamped with phlegm and black bile. I'm drawn to ponds and rainy woodlands, phlegmatic and melancholic, sighing wistfully as I drift in cold water and tread carefully across wet litter. Oh, it's a lot more pleasant than…
