Major spoilers for pretty much every part of the game. If you haven't played yet don't read, if you want a recommendation. Inland Empire and Shivers are the two most unique skills in the game, focus on them, and cherish them.

“I am La Revacholiere. I am the city. I am a fragment of the world spirit, the genius of Loci of Revachol. My heart is the wind corridor. The bottom of my air is red. I have a hundred thousand luminous arms. Come morning, I carry industrial dust and let it settle on tree leaves. I shake the dust from those leaves and onto your coat. I’ve seen you, I’ve seen you with her and I’ve seen you without her. I’ve seen you on the crescent of the hill. The modulations of my voice are noted down with thermometers and barometers. You feel me in your nostrils, on the little hairs on the back of your neck. I also reside in your lungs and vestigial organs. Everywhere there is space. I am afraid of death, it is terrifying. I need you to protect me from death. I cannot perish. Look at me. I cannot end. In 22 years, the first shot will be fired. Not a shot from a gun, an atomic device that will level all of me. All of me. You are an officer of the citizens militia. You move through my streets freely in motor carriages and on foot. You have access to the hidden places. You also circulate among those who are hidden. I need you. You can keep me on this earth. Be vigilant. I love you.”
-Revachol

Disco Elysium is the most emotional experience I have had with a video game, something about its composition. Its ideas are profound and I find them deeply relatable. Harry is a character saved through his own annihilations, almost born again from it. Someone with foundational systems that aren’t just good, they are spectacular. Only to be subsumed by an external shadow, a destroyed heart that sent him on a death spiral.

I see myself in parts of this, as Harry saw himself in the corpse. Not that I have succumbed to the death spiral, but I have seen it and its presence can make moving forward feel like walking a tight rope. This game was too relatable for me in that regard, I cried twice on my first playthrough and once on my second.

There is something deeply romantic, and deeply troubling with the way that some of Harrys internal systems act as defense mechanisms shielding him from remembering. The way Inland Empire warns you of the mistakes of your more immediate past, and volition protects you from her. Its scary the way that this game dances with that death, not a direct death of the body or the mind. But escaping annihilation again to spiral. The death scene of finding the the letter in your clipboard, the warnings you get, the way that sweet words turn to poison turn to death. Its harrowing, it hurts to relate to it.

I rerolled my first playthrough very early, after discovering the first Inland Empire check with the body. I wanted to play around that mechanic. After the reroll I went from the default Int start to Psyche and Int, with a focus on Inland Empire, Volition, and Conceptualization. On my second playthrough I played Psyche/Strength, focusing on Shivers, Inland Empire, and Half-Lite.

I think the most unique way to experience this game is with Inland Empire and Shivers, its almost spiritual, you have an unbelievable attunement to the world around you. It made things stick for me, it made them mean more than they already did.

There are four scenes in this game that I want to talk about, in descending order of importance starting from least and ending with most.

The Novelty Dice Maker

The Shootout

The Interrogation with Klaaje when Volition cues you in that your Internal Processes are broken

The Dream and the Insilidian Phasmid

The Novelty Dicemaker was completely unexpected for me. She is a character that runs completely counter-active to the more extreme political motivations in this game. With how I saw this game talked about, especially in regards to its affinity for communism, I am astonishingly surprised that she is not talked about more. The Novelty Dicemaker and the discussions of the failed businesses of the district elucidate a couple of things. People are uncomfortable confronting their own failures and reacting or building on them, they often times don’t the have skill or investment to succeed, and if they do they don’t have the proper lens to make their skills useful to others. She is a sobering deconstruction of the failures around her, she cuts to the heart of it, she understands these principles and found her niche to be successful. This dialogue is some of the most interesting in the game, and so antithetical to the “drunk communist” identity that gets ascribed to this game. One of my favorite sections of my playthrough.

The Shootout has very little actual choices. There are characters that always die, some that you can save, and some that you can intentionally kill. The first time you play this scene, with no knowledge of it. The tension is immense, seeing things go wrong is panic inducing and seeing the difficult of the dice rolls ahead of you arises a genuine fear. On my playthrough I succeeded the check to dodge the shot with a barely capable 17%, Kim taking action, the “God Please” as he lands a perfect shot on Ruud. I felt that relief travel through my spine. The coming authority check to save Kim, even with high authority, filled me with panic. I for a second thought I was going to lose the only character that saw the best in my actions despite my sordid past and absurd antics. At the end of the shootout on my first playthrough, Titus and Elizabeth died, and I felt like a failure. I felt like I barely scraped by with my life, tooth and nail, doing everything in my power to just barely stay alive, and I failed them. The innocents of Revachol.

The structure of the shootout is unconventional to the structure of the rest of the game, its restriction of choice is deliberate. I think the game could only end this way, I think that there needed to be genuine stakes. I think there needs to be an accountable failure for Harry, something that pushes him forward, a guilt that surpasses the regret.

Another thing that adds to the tension and emotional weight of the shootout is the internal dialogue. Unlike the rest of the game, your internal self is in complete harmony. Working in fractions of seconds, catching itself where others fall. You are a well oiled machine of exceptional internal processes, and the dialogue here is masterful as it describes the split second decision making, interrogating, and planning that Harry is going through in the moment.

My favorite moment in the game however is the opposite of that. Around the halfway point of the game, you are sent into an almost telephone-like dual interrogation with the Hardie Boys and Klaasje.

Volition: I have bad news for you

Volition: You know these guys?

Logic: Who, me?

Drama: Yes, you. He’s talking about you, you boring stiff.

Volition: You too.

Drama: Me? What did I do? I’m merely a master thespian…

Volition: These guys are compromised. She’s got them singing along to her tune. The little bleeps and bloops you trust for info — you can’t trust them anymore.

Through this dialogue you find that its not just Logic and Drama, but pretty much every system outside of Encyclopedia is compromised. This was a pivotal change in the game for me, it made me understand more fundamentally the struggle that Harry was going through. It clicked for me, it made things much more relatable. The system’s aren’t just good, they are exceptional, but they are a dice check away from keeping you in the death spiral. Your safeguards are as only aware of the shadow as your own Volition, how Klaasje played you is how you ended up where you were before your annihilations. The shadow that subsumed you.

The gameplay metaphor that is working here is just fantastic as well, one of the most thought provoking and enjoyable sections of the game. Watching your own Volition pipe up when it sees your other senses being mislead. Waking Drama up to the real show, and seeing how quickly and effortlessly it cuts through the shadow once its aware of it. How Drama rallies your other processes, how one breakthrough topples the whole tower.

And then, how you go too far. Your Volition is skeptical of Logic, making a deduction that it admits is not bad, because it absolves Klaasje. Your systems swap blindness for fury, angry that they can have been used that way and hyper vigilant that they won’t be used that way again. Your Volition is right that Klaasje is lying about Ruby, but it knows that she's not guilty of the crime. It wants you to arrest her for getting the upper hand over you, not for her guilt. Properly piecing this thought web together after everything was one of the most difficult choices I had in this game.

The Dream and the Insilidian Phasmid

This section of the game spiraled me. The lead-up, had me feeling like a failure. The shoot-out made me feel like I did something wrong, it was the only event in the game so far that hurt Kim. Made Kim hesitant to even keep on pursuing the case.

The walk back to the fishing village is a slow one, the injury prevents you from running. There is a tension between you and Kim, the weight of the game hangs heavy on you.

You arrive at the bunker. At this point in my playthrough, I was marathoning through the end of the game. It was 4am, and I had been playing an enormous amount of time. I felt like I didn’t do everything I could in the shoot-out and I was tired of clicking things. For the first time in the game I ignored most of the clickables, and only selected the things that were highlightable.

I clicked on the bed, and after the initial line from Kim I was sure this was going to be the end of the game. I thought I was going to die, and I deserved it. I was half right.

Real Darkness has love for a face.

I wasn’t ready for the dream in this game. I wasn’t ready to meet the shadow, and I wasn’t ready for it cut as deep as it did. This section of the game mirrored my own real life experiences too well. I was just broken up with, at the end of a 6 year long relationship, without really knowing why or having any closure. Having to have rebuild every single piece of my life, without having something to blame, and wistfully praying I could just forget. For a moment just forget everything so I could move past things, so I could forgive.

The dialogue with Delores Dei hurt me. It made me more aware of the death spiral than I ever have been since the break-up. I didn’t just think this conversation would be the end of the game, that it would kill Harry. I wanted it to, it made me want to die so I didn’t have to remember. And before you wake, your Volition tries to stand its ground for you one last time. Like it did for you with Klaasje, and it doesn't just collapse, it gives up. It gives up on you.

The only thing that really kept me afloat at the end of this game was the conversation with the Phasmid. Its the antithesis to that experience that tugged at me so deeply and sadly.

I exist too.

To have that voice, that sympathy, that empathy, that curiosity, of a kind creature without any awareness or concept to any of the problems I could be experiencing. It contextualized things in a way I have never been able to. The Insillidian Plasmid is true annihilation, “Weightless. So light it only feels like something to be me. In truth — perhaps I’m nothing? I certainly do not have a soul. And if I did, it would never ache.” It is the existence of ultimate innocence.

In the way that it described my every waking moment as hellish, full of struggle and turmoil. Its sympathy towards my existence, it almost begs you to be defensive. Its not all bad, it rises a feeling from within you that there is a greater experience there despite the struggle, and in communicating that to the phasmid. I shed my last tear with the game, of it being in awe of me, of my ability to keep going, and letting me know that despite everything, no matter where you are, it and the insects will be rooting for you. Looking out for you.

This game is so immeasurably fucked up, for putting you through these lowest of lows and giving you this level of closure from a stickbug. I didn’t think I would feel this way at all from video games ever, let alone the method of delivery I got.

I left this game changed, I rose from my stupor in Revachol in one of the most immediately depressing episodes I have had in a while but more willing than I've ever been to fight through it. I don’t know if its all for the better, but it had a profound indescribable impact on me.

“This is real darkness. It's not death, or war, or child molestation. Real darkness has love for a face. The first death is in the heart.”

Goodbye, Revachol.

Paradise Killer is such an interesting game, gripping me originally as kind of a vaporwave noir detective style experience that I found slowly transform into a compelling moral quandary. Lady Love Dies is a character that becomes nearly omniscient at the end of the experience, her collecting and piecing together of the facts are exact and inevitable. The game very quickly becomes less a question of “who done it” and more “who deserves justice.” Which I think genuinely is a much more compelling game experience, especially considering that the actual incarnation of Truth and Justice is a very malleable thing, there is no right answer to the trial of Paradise Killer compared to Danganronpa for instance.

There are I think four categories of characters in Paradise Killer.

Genuinely Didn’t Do Anything
Aided and Abetted
Directly Criminal
Masterminds

The only characters really completely innocent are Crimson Acid and (not)surprisingly Henry Division, and I think that the set up for Crimson Acid in particular is really well put together.

The aided and abetted camp are occupied by Sam and Lydia Daybreak, and Doom Jazz. A cast of characters that wind up being the nicest, more upfront, and least corrupt of the cast. I think the heart of the game is found in these characters and whether or not you the player (or you Lady Love Dies) think they deserve justice for their actions.

The Directly Criminal characters are Akiko 14, Yuri Night, and Dainonigate. Outside of Dianonigate, I think these are the least interesting of the bunch because they are essentially tools. For what I am going to get into earlier these characters are almost always “guilty”, they are selfishly motivated, unsympathetic, and unessential in the grand scheme of the world of paradise killer. That doesn’t make them bad characters, I think their role is incredibly important.

And that leaves us with the two Masterminds, Architect Carmelina Silence and Witness to the End, and these characters are of similar importance to the heart of the game. I think that they wind up being the question because ultimately Paradise Killer isn’t a question of “who” it is a question of what is justice, or what is guilty.

At the end of this game a player is going to have two uncomfortable questions that they need to answer. Was what the Daybreaks and Doom Jazz did really worthy of execution (is that justice)? Or some variation of “Even though Carmelina did this, is she too important to kill” or “Is the Witness right.” Which leads the player to an incredibly interesting scenario, because unlike other similar style detective games more information doesn’t lead the player to the correct answer, but instead control of the narrative, it allows you to define what justice is and what guilt is.

Which leads to some really interesting kinds of trials you can have. There are two that I think most players will choose, a variation of killing Yuri Night, Akiko 14, Carmelina, and Witness as they are the most directly guilty, and the daybreaks/doom jazz don’t deserve punishment. Or the heart wrenching decision to kill the daybreaks and doom jazz as well, pretty much executing the entire cast besides Crimson Acid and Henry. I personally picked the first outcome on my first play through but on ruminating on the events of the game there are four distinct other outcomes of this trial that lay outside the bounds of the traditional sense of justice and guilt. Do you protect Carmelina but cull those will ruin the next paradise? Do you believe the Witness was correct and time spent wasted on making the perfect island instead of reviving the gods is blasphemous, and kill Carmelina and her abetters? Do you protect the current syndicate and execute Henry? Or do you believe this Syndicate is equally unworthy/too problematic for perfect 25?

I think the game gives you enough breadcrumbs for each and every choice to be one worthy of consideration, and I think it positions the game uniquely in the VN space. I think it also makes LD a really interesting and complex character.

The only thing stopping me from giving this a five star is that I think it kind of paces itself too quickly during the trial. We don’t get enough closure with the cast, I wish there was a way to talk to characters before the die and/or some real closure with the characters you let live. I think there was a lot of missed opportunity to end such an incredibly well structured and well put together game.

“When love dies, all that remains are the facts”

Sea of Stars is a fantastic and creative JRPG that places its bets safely close to its direct inspirations. Leaving those roots briefly to deliver on incredible and heartwarming storybeats and transformative gameplay moments.

Sea of Stars has exceptional art direction, sound design, and writing. Despite how beautiful this game looks, sounds, and plays the real star of the show here is the writing. The core story here is great, I adore the dynamic of Garl, Zale, and Valare. It's one of the best approaches to a silent-protagonist rpg dynamic I've seen. Garl being there with his warm and caring disposition to be the face of the party, while Zale and Valare remain quiet, driven and slightly awkward "hero" types sets up some beautiful writing moments. So much so that I think this is one of the only games where the "true" ending is a massive step down from the normal ending.

For the first two thirds of the game, Garl is the face for Zale and Valare. He is the first person to introduce himself and his friends in every social encounter, he is warm and kind and constantly sees the best in people, but also isn't someone who is naive or taken advantage of. He's worked hard to get to where he is, he cares, and he makes up for his lack of combat prowess by being a not-often-seen charismatic logistics wizard for the group. Its a very cool and engaging role in an rpg I haven't been exposed to before.

Garl's active role in conversation is one of the great writing set-ups of this game. Because Garl's death isn't used as a vengeance or revenge fuel for angry protagonists, they grieve and they move forward. V&Z don't lose their purpose or drive, they don't change like Cloud does when Aerith dies, or any traditional JRPG tragic death moment. Instead the absence of Garl is felt in every single social interaction the party takes after. V&Z lost the warmth, they lost the kind and open charismatic face to the whole group. The dialogue takes a turn in the last act of the game because of it, when you have Seraii leading the dialogue instead. The gloom comes from a direct absence, not from a change in personality or story or tone. Its a really beautiful way to depict grief and feeling the absence of a fundamental relationship of the main trio.

Garl was my favorite part of the game, he is such an exceptionally well written character and him owning his death on his own terms is really elegant. The true ending isn't.

That surmounts to one of my few gripes with the game. The true ending, the overplaying of the hand on being a messenger prequel towards the last act of the game, and B'st. B'st doesn't feel like the same caliber of writing the rest of the game had. Wasn't a fan of his design either. I would have gravely preferred someone like Malkomud joining the party instead.

Anyway, this game is more than worth anyones time. Beautiful, well written, and an exceptional fun and tight experience even when for going for full completion. The Queen that Was, Chromatic Apparition, and Elysan'darëlle were really fun fights that had such great spectacle and art direction.