A two-player animatronic diorama game contained entirely inside of a briefcase. Players control a pair of robots who, rather than fighting, dance with and talk to each other, in an exploration of awkwardness, intimacy, and queer relationships.
You have no idea how long it’s been since you last set foot outside your cramped little apartment. You don’t really talk to anyone. You can’t focus on work. You barely have any appetite to speak of, literally and figuratively. Even casually reading Twitter makes you anxious.
Somehow, you thought moving to a new city would help you meet people you actually like. That you’d find fun activities to do and better opportunities all around. You used to be pretty good at faking your way around being a social butterfly. People actually seemed to like you, and the stuff you made and performed. But now? You can’t even remember being that person.
Maybe you should go outside. Maybe it will help.
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you used to be someone – design goals
In this sequel to 2013’s breakout musical hit, Dominique Pamplemousse in “It’s All Over Once The Fat Lady Sings!”, our favourite genderqueer private detective discovers that, through the power of multiple endings from the previous game, they have been cloned! Join the two Dominiques as they traverse surreal locations and interrogate increasingly bizarre characters in order to answer a very important question: which one of them is canon?
There is also plenty of singing. And feelings. And, of course, singing about feelings.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, and that finding such a wife tends to involve a whole lot of dancing. Now, in this ballroom dancing simulator, you too can waltz your way into the heart of Mr. Darcy, the fabulously smouldering (and equally acerbic) leading man of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice! Just make sure you don’t fall flat on your face in the process.
Many of us have voices in our heads that constantly remind us of our perceived failures and inadequacies. Sometimes, those voices appear to us in the form of a once-important, now-estranged person from our past. This is a game about having one of those conversations with that voice in your head, in real time, and the many ways it can go.
Puberty is weird and awkward, especially when you happen to be a tentacled space alien!
In this incredibly queer mashup of Judy Blume, Babysitters Club, and pulpy sci-fi, join three childhood friends — Charlie, Jace, and Valentine — as they write to each other in their online journals about going to new schools, fitting in, crushing on cuties, dealing with adults who just don’t understand, and of course, all those bizarre new changes taking place in their bodies.
A handy guide to receiving social justice-related criticism on the internet. An interactive non-fiction piece aimed at creating healthier online communities.
Note: the game asks for player responses, but doesn’t record said responses in any way. The in-story reason for this is that you are talking to a fictionalised future version of me, so to present-day me, the conversation hasn’t actually taken place yet. The more practical reason is, I didn’t want to deal with abuse and spam. So, consider this exercise to be something akin to writing a letter but never sending it.
Hey, kids! Do you ever feel like if you don’t speak up — and speak up often — you’ll literally disappear? Do you ever feel like if you do speak up, everything you have to say is trivial and pointless and no one cares? If so, you’ll love Interruption Junction, a short one-button conversation game about being lonely in a group of people! If not… well, I envy you.
But anyhow: click repeatedly or mash the spacebar to interrupt.