Rewriting Life’s Trajectory

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Disney and Pixar movies defined my childhood. It started with VCR tapes I would watch on loop – most notably, The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin. Now, as a grown adult, it has manifested in a love for the Disney Lorcana trading card game, day one screenings for the latest animated film, and a much abused Disney+ subscription.

Yet despite their primary audiences being for children, I still find many of their films enjoyable and rich with meaning. The most recent offering, Toy Story 5, and its focus on Jessie as the protagonist almost had me bubbling up with tears right there in the theatre. Especially when Jessie found the time capsule her first owner, Emily, left behind for her daughter and realised that though she was donated, the time she had spent with Emily still had a significant impact on the girl she once knew.

And it is this I’ve also been slowly coming to terms with in recent years as I grapple with my own sense of existential dread and the unlikeliness I will ever leave behind a living legacy. Despite the voice in my head saying the people I know would have lived lives uncharged, or even superior, if I had never been born, I like to think I’ve been a positive force for many. Whether it’s through the stories I write and share, or even this humble blog where I put thoughts down on digital paper.

A friend of mine, certainly, has mentioned that had it not been for my commitment to the craft, she might not have a fairly successful web comic making its rounds on webtoons and tapas (shoutout to Rinbeti and her Matchbreakers Club). Then there’s the work friend who decided to hop back on the dating train after I regaled her with stories of my adventures (she’s now in a relationship).

Then there are the ones I’ve lost touch with over the years. The ones, as they say, ‘who got away.’ In the quiet moments, I find myself wondering if they still think of me or if I was merely an ephemereal ghost; another face in a crowd of thousands that fade from memory.

I like to think every interaction I’ve had has ever so slightly adjusted my life’s trajectory. While they might never have been sliding door moments or canon events that will eventuate into another parallel universe, the experiences I’ve gone through have shaped me into the person I am today – warts and all. The same can be said of my presence in their lives. Be it a relationship advisor, a big sister type, the quiet girl on the bus reading yet another hefty fantasy book who introduces you to a world beyond imagining, or the invisible classmate on the periphery of every memory.

All these moments, big or small, leave an imprint on others. Even if, at the end of the day, you may not remember the interaction at all.

From a personal standpoint, I have been surprised by colleagues who describe our first interaction as warm. Then there are the stories I’ve been told of a friend’s sister who occasionally reads my blogs and the solace they’ve found – though admittedly I don’t see myself as much of an influencer or role model. And if they were to ever put me on a pedestal to idolise, goodness knows I’d be running in the opposite direction.

That isn’t to say I don’t have regrets. I do. Being the anxious overthinker, I replay a lot of the conversations I’ve had over the years. Many a time, I have wished for the chance to start over – to be more selective in the word choices I made or the tone I said everything in. But while many will brush over it, or consider it water under the bridge, I can’t help but worry of the times my words and actions actually inflict hurt or pain to others when it was not my intention to do so.

Just one bad day could see someone’s life trajectory careen off a cliff. I have certainly had days when I have felt neglected and abandoned by those I hold dear, masking the sadness I feel with either aloofness or a jovial smile. My inner thoughts obscured even as I try to decipher those around me from the miniscule movements in their eyes or facial muscles (and I like to think I’m quite good at it too though, of course, I won’t be able to read a person’s mind exactly).

It’s like the song: For Good sung at the end of Wicked. People come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn. And we are led to those who’ll help us most to grow, if we let them and we help in return.

And when it comes to Jessie and Emily from Toy Story, we see Emily become who she is because she had Jessie by her side (even naming her daughter after the doll she played). Admittedly, I don’t think I’ll be naming my hypothetical child after a toy I played with, there have been characters in many a story that have inspired me.

From Hermione Granger (I so desperately wanted her to be real and be her friend in real life) to Kaladin and Arenza Lenskaya (from more recent novels I’ve enjoyed). But I would be remiss in failing to mention the video game characters that also helped define who I am now. From the characters in Kingdom Hearts to the Sly Racoon series and so many more.

Every new person I meet, whether they are real or fictional, is a gift. One who can present to me a whole new world of possibilities and stories of the life they have led to now. Some might call it being nosy. I like to think I just have a healthy dose of curiosity. After all, I only have one life to live and there are billions of humans around me who are experiencing something different and unique that I’ll never be able to witness or be a part of.

But knowing I might have played an integral part of their lives? Priceless.

Here’s hoping there are more I can lend a helping hand to as we collectively navigate our way through this strange thing called ‘life.’ Now back to the daily grind of writing eldritch horror stories for the entertainment of my imaginary audience!

And occasionally frightening the people around me with prescient statements of truth!

Apocalypse High

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Following the rather intense family drama that was Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, I was keen for a palate cleanser of a game before I embarked on another high-octane rollicking adventure. Enter Goodbye Volcano High – a coming-of-age story featuring anthropomorphic dinosaurs that have to contend with school and love during the end times as an asteroid comes hurtling towards the Earth. A cosy game, indeed!

You play as Fang, a non-binary pteradactyl who dreams of playing at CalderaFest with her eclectic rock band. After a summer where they were left alone, they must navigate the terse and fraught friendships they have with their fellow bandmates while also dealing with a world-ending event. And honestly, given how 2026 has gone, I couldn’t help but relate. We may not have an asteroid that will wipe out entire civilisations headed towards us THIS year but with all the ‘unprecedented’ things happening around the globe, it can certainly feel overwhelming. I certainly feel like I’ve become desensitised to each new catastrophe. And I don’t even live in the United States of America.

From a narrative perspective, Goodbye Volcano High keeps it simple as it borrows elements from other life-simulator games that have come before. Think Life is Strange, Dispatch or Lost Records: Bloom and Rage except without the supernatural powers and a stronger focus on high scoolers living their dream of becoming a successful rock band. The first few chapters of the game, after all, are focused on the Battle of the Band competition that will be happening at Lava Java. And while they ultimately succeed, it is not without a few stumbles along the way.

Throughout the six hours of gameplay, I watched as Fang interacted with family and friends. From the struggles they faced due to to new rift between them and best friend, Trish, who has newly returned from bug camp with a new beau, Rosa (or so it’s implied). To being contacted anonymously by a secret admirer following fears the world will end and finding new inspiration for their music.

This all ties neatly into the gameplay which has the player choose between the various responses Fang may have when interacting with friends and family. Are they snide and snappy? Positively brimming with excitement? Or are they subdued and resigned – fearful that they will never have their dream come true?

While the game did incorporate an affinity element for the various other characters, it never proved to be as intuitive as I would have liked. Nor did the ‘photos’ aspect of the game make sense to me in terms of the requirements for unlocking them all. At least I managed to get all the flashbacks – colourful comic-style vignettes that gave some background to the relationships between various characters.

That said, Goodbye Volcano High could have spent a little longer with each of the characters and their unique dynamic with Fang. Many of Fang’s immediate circle felt like caricatures. There was Reed, the third member of Worm Drama, who was obsessed with Legends and Lore (L&L for short and a derivative of Dungeons and Dragons. That said, I did love the shoutout to everyon’e favourite liveplay tabletop role-playing group: Critical Role. And who can forget ‘toothy maw?’ Though, in this rendition, it’s ‘gaping maw.’) and being relatively zen with regards to the end of the world.

Then there’s Naser, Fang’s brother and school body president to the high school they attend. While he is somewhat uptight at the start of the game, he is primarily there to frustrate Fang with the innumerable puns he likes to come up with and be a strait-laced foil to the rebellious main character.

Naomi, too, starts off Goodbye Volcano High as know-it-all perfectionist and best friend to Naser. And while she isn’t exactly an antagonist, she and Fang don’t have much in common until it’s revealed she is Fang’s secret admirer.

And how could I forget Sage and Stella? Colourful pastel members of the Dinogang, they along with Rosa, mostly sit on the periphery of Fang’s story. While Sage and Rosa are keen adventuring party members for the L&L game, they mostly sit on the sidelines and serve as backup support for much of the narrative.

Like many indie games with a high school aesthetic, Goodbye Volcano High has a strong focus on music. As Fang is the lead guitarist and vocalist for Worm Drama, the game features a minigame where Fang and the rest of the band play their songs out in front of an audience using directional and button inputs in lieu of actual instrument playing. While it took some time to understand the controls, by the time the Battle of the Bands was underway, I was able to hit each note right on beat to get a perfect score.

Beyond choosing dialogue options and the music minigame, there isn’t much to say about the gameplay for Goodbye Volcano High. Even with its incorporation of an off-brand version of Dungeons and Dragons, most of the dice rolls were scripted in some way or form. That said, the fact there were two trophies tied to what you rolled did not sit well with me considering there were few opportunities for this to occur (AND the roll itself was still randomised).

Was Goodbye Volcano High a poignant game capable of reaching the heights of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33? No. But it was certainly a fine distraction with its own slew of themes that I was able to relate to:

  • feeling distant from close friends as they find new interests and make new friends;
  • dealing with the daily Horrors and existential dread that is life in our current timeline;
  • being more interested in things my ‘friends’ barely bat an eye at; and
  • absentee parents.

So, all in all, Goodbye Volcano High was a nice short life simulator of a game with talking anthropomorphic dinosaurs with decent indie rock music that could have been expanded upon, and decent art that wasn’t too jarring to look at (even though I do think it could have been better).

Now, onto shenanigans on the high seas with Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii!

When One Falls, We Continue

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

From the very first trailer I saw, I knew there was something special about Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. While I could not have imagined it would rise to the heights of Game of the Year 2025, there were a few favourable elements to the game that drew my eye. The grim atmosphere, the Belle Epoque setting and the mystery surrounding the world itself. After all, who was this mysterious Paintress who seemed to rule over the world? It should come as no surprise, dear reader, that I went to buy the title day one – though I did struggle to find it in stores and had to explicitly ask the people at the counter if it was still available. Unfortunately, given all the other games I still had in my backlog, Expedition 33 was forced to sit on my shelf for an entire year before I could find the chance to play it.

Though many have classified Expedition 33 as a Japanese role-playing game (JRPG) because of the ‘turn-based’ combat, I would have to strongly disagree. There is one major reason for this: all the basic tropes are missing.

It does not start off with a bright-eyed protagonist chasing chickens in their small village. Disaster does not strike when our protagonist returns home after finishing their chores. The party is not an eclectic band of misfits with a talking animal or two (though given Monoco was named after the Dessendre family’s pet dog…maybe they can get away with it?). And in the end, the final boss they fight against is not God.

Rather, Expedition 33 sees us in the shoes of Gustave. He is up on a roof overlooking the city of Lumiere as they prepare for the annual gommage. The worst thing that could have happened to the world occurred 67 years ago in an event known only as the Fracture. Since then, the giant Paintress who sits at the base of a towering Monolith rises up and change the number on the countdown. Anyone who is older vanishes into a swirl of flower petals. Desperate, the people of Lumiere seek ways to put an end to this ghastly ritual in the hope that future generations will not have to suffer as they have.

In just these first few moments, Expedition 33 manages to pull you in. The plight of the people of Lumiere is laid bare for all to see. Before too long, the expedition sets out towards the Monolith. Almost immediately as they land, things go wrong. A mysterious man decimates most of the expedition. Believing himself to be the only survivor and overwhelmed by the enormity of the destruction around him, Gustave wavers. It is not until Lune finds him that his belief in the mission is renewed. From there, the two journey across the Continent and manage to find two other survivors – Maelle and Sciel.

Along the way, the game introduces the player to its ‘active’ turn-based combat. For, rather than sit idly by and allow one’s stats to determine if an enemy attack will hit or miss, players have the ability to parry, dodge or jump enemy attacks. To my initial dismay, there is no clear indication that flashes over the enemy. Parry, dodges and even jumps need to be timed to the animation of the foes you face to ensure it’s done perfectly. And, if you’re able to parry all the other attacks, the expedition is able to launch a powerful counter. Even attacks made by the expedition is littered with quick-time events to ensure they land or deal more damage. Admittedly, this meant that I could not set up a video on the side to watch as I grinded my way to victory (as is usually the case with turn-based games).

The combat, combined with the distinct style of the nevrons – the enemies you fight – made me wonder if Sandfall Interactive had also looked to the Soulsborne games for inspiration. Many of the nevrons, certainly, would have perfectly fit the dark fantasy aesthetic. Then there were the cryptic dialogues from both ‘faded’ characters and a number of white-coloured nevrons that you can assist, which served to add to the mystery of the world.

I also very much enjoyed the music. Were many pieces rifts from others with leit motifs carried throughout? Why, yes. Yes, they were. But it was still hauntingly beautiful in all the right ways. That said, my favourite piece came from the mime battles. There is something about hearing a jaunty accordian tune that I loved. To be fair, if the soundtracks for Octopath Traveler or Xenoblade Chronicles had also been in contention for Best Score, I would have called foul if Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 had won.

While I did very much enjoy the game, there were a few puzzling elements to game design that had me scratching my head. The lack of a minimap, no sense of how much further the end goal might be in a dungeon, no journal for the main quests and select few sidequests, and the inverse mapping for the pause menu with the party stats menu. None of these minor quibbles ruined the game for me but I found the absence of these quality-of-life tweaks absolutely baffling.

Gameplay aside, I have to admit the story (and the characters) were what sold me on the game. Though Expedition 33 starts off as a lofty ‘destroy the evil Paintress and save Lumiere’ story, the journey across a fantastical Paris is actually an insightful deep dive into grief and the dangers that come with using escapism as a coping method.

I am, dear reader, no stranger to grief. I lost my own father at the age of twelve. In this year alone, I have lost two of my grandparents in quick succession. Death and I have walked hand-in-hand for a good long while – whether it be in the stories I read or the movies I watch. So, when it came down to the final choice, I had to side with Verso. Maelle’s desire to stay was too self-destructive for my tastes. Worse, she had not learned from her time in the Canvas. Bringing back the people she had lost when the Paintress was ousted is not healthy. No matter how much I, the player, also cared for Sciel and Lune (for goodness sake, Lune is my favourite character out of them all and NOT because of her bare feet. In fact, for my entire playthrough, I kept Lune in outfits where her feet were covered because seeing them as she ran across the Continent – or floated – just gave me such a big ick).

That is not to say, however, that Maelle did not have good reason. To me, she is probably one of the most tragic characters in Clair Obscur. Wracked with survivor’s guilt, filled with self-loathing for her imperfect body (was it me or was it so odd her family never got her a glass eye to replace the one she lost?) and still mourning the loss of her brother, I can see why she would choose to remain in the Canvas. After all, it was the only place she found a sense belonging and experienced unconditional love from those she might consider parental figures (though, that said, it is clear Renoir does love her dearly and wants only the best for her – look no further than the Axon he painted for her in The Reacher). But the problem with staying IN the Canvas is that it’s a want. It’s not what she needs.

And what Maelle (otherwise known as Alicia) needs (along with the rest of the Dessendre family) is a therapist. And it is here I find a quote from Buffy the Vampire Slayer the most poignant: ‘The hardest thing in this world is live in it.’ Maelle refuses to live in the real world where she sees herself as broken. Even when her father tries to reassure her that she has a future and limitless potential. Instead of heeding the tenets of the expedition: ‘Tomorrow comes’ and ‘when one falls, we continue,’ Maelle continues to strive for what she cannot have.

Loss is hard.

I know when my father passed, and I saw his body lying in that small hospital bed, I wanted to believe he would wake up. Even when it was the day of his funeral and he was placed in his casket, I couldn’t help think he would open his eyes and smile at me one last time. But I also knew, following several discussions with my mother and grandmother prior to his death, that even when people we love are gone, the world continues to turn – and us with it.

The circumstances often seem cruel and unfair. My father was still young, after all. He could have lived another quarter century or more if he fortune had smiled on him.

In fact, the only thing we can do is keep going on. To take one step after another. And commit to doing ‘The Next Right Thing.’ The pain never quite heals but we learn to handle it. Something I fear Maelle never truly accepts or learns.

The same cannot be said for Painted Verso. He has lived a full life but remains in this fake world, immortal. Worse, he knows he is but a copy of the real Verso. That knowledge torments him and though his initial goal is to save his Maman from drowning in her grief, he also knows it comes with a price.

While I’m sure many would argue that Maelle and Verso are two sides of the same coin, I feel like there’s still an underlying difference in their motivations. Verso looks first to his family and how to best keep them safe whereas Maelle is more inherently selfish in her wishes. I felt this was represented best with Verso’s final encounter with the Faded Boy – the trapped remnant of the real Verso’s soul and permits him to stop if he so wishes.

Admittedly, it did bug me a little that what started as a grand adventure to stop the Paintress turned into a family squabble. The world was so rich with possibility and I loved getting to know Lune, Sciel and Gustave.In fact, by making all of them so sympathetic, the final choice in the end is made all the more difficult. But from a narrative point of view, it takes away the grand stakes and replaces it with the private drama of a broken family.

That said, I appreciated all the bonding moments though I am of the opinion Sandfall should not have kept the romantic dalliances Verso has with Lune and Sciel in the game. After all, he had so much more chemistry with Monoco! The whole ‘little spoon’ line? Perfection.

And, I don’t know, if there had been a few more steamy scenes between Lune and Sciel, I might have come round to Maelle’s side.

Yes, dear reader, I am one of the few who ship Lune and Sciel together. They just work so well! Especially when they reminisced over the past and bonded over the death of Gustave at the start of Act 2!

I like to think with Verso’s ending, Maelle/ Alicia is able to move on. Or, at the very least, to make a new start and take the time to properly heal. While I do not know what that might look like, I have every hope she will take the memories of Expedition 33 to paint a brighter future for herself. It’s the least she deserves and it’s the very thing real Verso would have wanted for his little sister (even if Maman and Clea – to a degree – disagrees with. By the way, can we talk about how abrasive Clea was in most of her interactions with her little sister?).

There is much to love in Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. In fact, I can see why it managed to reach almost universal acclaim. That said, there are a few areas where it falls short – namely in a few choices pertaining to quality-of-life options for players and the terrible platforming (don’t even get me started on the final stage of the Gestral volleyball minigame) – but it is overall a game that is greater than the sum of its parts. From its complex and layered narrative to its tight gameplay mechanics that manage to weave it all together in a neat little package. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 might not be a TRUE turn-based role-playing game in the veins of the old JRPGs of old, but it proves to be its own unique blend of genres.

On a side note, as a self-purported creative…I wonder how my characters feel when I abandon or scrap a story. Are they sentient? Should I be concerned about all the power I wield over their measly lives?

The things one must ponder…

The Hidden Core Revealed

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

I like to think I am a fairly well-adjusted individual. Despite losing two grandparents in successive months this year and my sole surviving grandmother a little addled and on antidepressants, I find myself thankful for the things I do have rather than what I don’t. After all, it takes a person of fortitutde to remain upbeat and cheery in the face of ‘The Horrors’ permeating ou world (though, I am by no means an upbeat or cheery person, it appears to have become a facade I wear and has become widely accepted at work).

Mostly, I attribute my affable and positive nature to the fact I’ve already adopted healthy habits. Even before watching endless YouTube videos or Tiktok dribble encouraging the same.

It is no secret I am an Asian woman in her mid-thirties. But what most people don’t know about me is that I do not endlessly doomscroll through the night (as I don’t have a lot of social media apps and my phone is usually in another room), I go on daily walks and actively sit with my thoughts (no podcasts or music to distract me from the natural world), and I read plenty of books when I am afforded the time to do so on my commutes to the office.

Creativity, it must be said, is my bread and butter. And while others may see it as me ‘being productive,’ I view it as a means of doing something I love as I go about a rather dreary life. I mean, why not escape the monotony of real life by writing eldritch horror novellas?

The world may be on fire but as long as it does not impact the corner of the internet I’ve eked out for myself, maybe I won’t feel so powerless? Why worry about the rise of far-right nationalism when I can simply enjoy Toy Story 5 and spend all my money on Disney Lorcana cards? It’s certainly a far better use of my time. After all, worrying about things outside of my control does not solve them either.

That said, I HAD intended to make this next post of mine be about Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. Technically, I could have wrapped up the story but as a completionist, I refuse to let the credits roll until I’ve done every conceivable thing within my power. This includes doing all the side content (and even reducing the difficulty to story because I cannot fathom bashing my head against a wall to try and nail the pixel perfect timing to parry every enemy I encounter on expert) and making sure I mop up all the collectibles.

Whether or not this is ‘growth’ is something I am still debating. But at the very least, it has been better for my mental health. Being able to freely talk about my experiences has also proved wondrous – though sympathetic ears in my immediate vicinity (i.e. my family) have been hard to find. Still, now that I understand how their perspectives are shaped, I no longer rise to the low-hanging fruit they try to bait me with. Anger is now an emotion I let go more often than not.

Yet for all the steps I take forward, there are still numerous backsteps. Like when I spiralled horrendously when a manager pointed out that I used the word ‘that’ for every third or fourth word. The blow struck had me wondering if I was even worthy of being in my current position at work or if I should quit then and there to find something better suited for my worthless hide. It took a day or two of careful self-talk to convince myself I was overreacting and this was a learning opportunity to be better.

Then there are the moments when I feel terribly lonely despite being surrounded by teammates or friends. While I do feel my mood changes most during the luteal phase (curse those gosh darn womanly hormones), it has enabled me to write some poetry as a means of articulating how I feel. While I’ve not shared much of it with anyone, it’s been good to express my emotions through other means rather than incoherent screaming over a slight inconvenience.

Being more conscious of these mood changes has also helped me be more in tune with what I want. Though I’m certain that the more I age, and as I enter perimenopause, all the good work I’ve done on behalf of my mental health will come completely apart.

Yet despite these gains, the loneliness persists. Some of it might be the physical distance between my friends. Other times it’s the gaping maw of disconnected experiences that conversation cannot fill.

I chalk it up to the fact I’ve always prided myself on being a good listener. For my entire childhood, I allowed myself to be a dumping ground. Hearing people vent about their problems helped shed light on who they were and what they considered important. It was an invaluable insight into those around me. But as time has passed, I’ve noticed that I know so much more about the tidbits of their lives but they seem to know nothing of mine. There’s no curiosity on their end. Or, when they try to express it, there’s always something a little hamfisted in their questions. It feels almost like an interrogation rather than a true understanding.

‘Why do you think that?’ I don’t know. I just do?

‘And how did it make you feel?’ Weren’t you listening? I already told you.

‘Oh wow. You’ve actually put a lot more thought into this situation than I would have believed.’ Well, you never asked. And you can’t read minds…so…

Maybe some of the problem comes from me. Despite the fact I’m happy to share certain anecdotes, the hidden parts of me don’t always get to be expressed. Among the group of friends I interact with the most, I find myself constrained to their perceptions. I can’t animatedly divulge about the video games I enjoy, the shows I’ve watched or even the music I listen to.

None of them are all that keen for board games except for a select few. Half of them will only ever attend a musical or two in their lifetime. And almost none of them read fantasy or any of the other titles I have on my extensive shelves.

When I do express enjoyment in something I like, it becomes the only thing they know me by.

Harry Potter. Kingdom Hearts. Detective Conan. Ace Attorney.

But I’m more than just these fandoms and franchises. There is so much more that I enjoy and do. Yet I have no one to share them with. No one to accept it and reciprocate my excitement.

Is it any wonder I keep searching for new friends outside the ones I already have? In a desperate quest for a deep connection?

So, yes. I may think I’m well-adjusted, and to most I appear that way, but there are hidden depths that have yet to be plunged. And I suppose that is true of almost everyone in the world. We all show the people around us facets of our lives but never quite the entire whole.

It often makes me wonder if people actually see me for me or simply the carefully constructed version of who I am. But that’s a philosophical discussion for another time.

Now, here. I gift onto you, dear reader, some terrible poetry I wrote at the end last last year/ early this year:

The empty chair spins around,

footsteps resound.

Half remembered conversations

tucked into the back.

Lost, forgotten, gathering dust

placed atop a stack.

A phrase, a word

A thousand memories stirred.

Time is a construct

in the warm laugh of a shared joke.

Of secrets spilled, a mask unveiled

before the descending and silencing cloak

The ghost of me

wanders through, wishing to be

a person in its entirety;

not a caricature of object impermanent

Filled solid by conversation –

My actions and desires, full acknowledgement

But fickle is the world’s nature

oft ignored, nothing major.

The deeds once done

pushed to the side, replaced.

No one sees the hurt they cause

never noticing how everything is interlaced.

The cracks widen

Throat tightens.

A sigh, a gasp

The empty dregs of a bottle

Nothing can compete with

the deep loneliness when it’s at full throttle.

Friends on the Other Side

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

As a child, mythology and folklore were two subjects that captured my imagination. Even fictional ones (was it only me diving through Wowhead trying to read about the intracies of troll culture on Azeroth? No. Just me? Cool). Even as a grown woman, I cannot help but be fascinated at seeing how urban legends grow and inform beliefs. Be they cultural or even societal. While Greek myths and European folktales have domianted the current zeitgeist, when I saw the trailer for Compulsion Games new title back in 2024, my attention was immediately arrested. A game about the Deep South with an emphasis on cryptids taken from southern Gothic stories? Count me in!

Now, it should be said, I never did play We Happy Few. Nor did I play their other game: Contrast. But that does not mean they weren’t on my radar. Especially when it comes to the themes and concepts they look to explore.

In the end, though, there was something about South of Midnight that drew me in. In South of Midnight, you play as Hazel. A track star in her small town of Prospero, players are first introduced to her as she is prepping for a hurricane. It is not long before her mother, Lacey, returns to their home overlooking the river. After a fight, Hazel heads out to check in on their neighbours. When she heads back home, however, their house is washed away as the floodwaters rise.

So begins Hazel’s journey to find and reunite with her mother. Along the way, she learns the tales she was told as a child were not fanciful make-believe stories meant to scare her but are actually true. More importantly, she discovers she has magical abilities to see the strands of the Grand Tapestry and put to rights the trauma scarring it.

While the narrative beats of South of Midnight follow a rather simple arc, with the occasional setbacks to ratchet up the tension, I found it was the side stories and the lore of the worlds that truly piqued my interest. In fact, I would say the overall story never truly capitalised on Hazel’s grandmother’s pain or possibly villanous potential. Instead, we have Kooshma who, while hinted at as a more terrifying foe when Hazel manages to collect the various different negative emotions and past hurts of the main creatures in the area, fails to truly encapsulate the big bad evil guy energy I was hoping for. Yes, he feeds on dreams and painful memories but so what?

What’s more, even AFTER you defeat Kooshma, South of Midnight realises the daggling thread of Bunny Flood still needs to be addressed and Hazel returns to the manor. Only, of course, for Bunny to take the offer provided by Roux as she is unable to move past the loss of her sweet baby Cherie.

On a side note, it is VERY telling that the precious daughter Bunny holds nearest and dearest to her heart is named ‘Cherie.’ Definitely not playing favourites when you call your daughter, ‘My Dear/ Darling/ Sweetheart’ and call your son ‘Trey’ in comparison.

The main story aside, I very much enjoyed all the various crpyids Compulsion Games put in. From a giant alligator, Two-Toed Tom, to the Rougarou and Huggin’ Molly. But what I especially liked were the personal touches they made to the lore, and even their own creations like the Benjy Tree or Altamaha-ha. The stories, told primarily by the Catfish – also a creature from Cajun folklore – were all very heartfelt and played into the culture of the Deep South.

What I also liked, too, was the music and how they played into each creature’s backstory. The effort Compulsion Games put into the worldbuilding was immaculate and pulled me along to game’s end.

And though I’m not from the Deep South (which I think is highly debatable considering I live in Australia – which is located in the southern hemisphere), all these small and tiny additions to the world were greatly appreciated in making Prospero come alive. After all, back in 2016, I did visit Louisiana and very much enjoyed my time in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Learning more about the unique cultures only makes me more curious about its people and the stories they share.

In fact, I am very disappointed Australia does not have as many famous cryptids as I would like. There is, of course, the bunyip and yowie, but they’ve become so commercialised as chocolate chocolate toys, much of the power that comes from being mysterious creatures stalking the outback of Australia has been lost.

Gameplay-wise, South of Midnight is very by the numbers though it is one of the few more recent titles that does not have a block or parry button. Hazel Flood, instead, can only dodge the attacks of her enemies (and occasionally jump over them). Her moveset is also fairly simple and involves a few magic spells to help control the various haints she ends up fighting in designated arenas.

Though I initially found it clunky – mostly due to how long it took for spells to cool down – I soon found my footing when it came to dashing across the battlefield and giving most enemies a three-hit combo before darting away again. That said, the long cooldowns meant there was little in the ways of experimenting when it came to fighting the various enemies. By the time I was able to string together spells together more often, the game was almost over.

The only times I truly struggled were during the gimicky natures of boss battles and the fact Hazel has limited healing options. Worse, despite attacks being telegraphed ahead of time, getting out of the way was still difficult due to the size of the battle area. This was especially irritating in my fight against Two-Toed Tom as the alligator was able to take up large swathes of the measly islands Hazel was fighting him on though the others were much more manageable – albeit, I wasn’t able to finish those fights unscathed for the sake of the platinum trophy.

South of Midnight released in 2025 for Xbox and on Steam. To my utter delight, it was released on PlayStation 5 in March this year. Admittedly, I did consider potentially purchasing it for PC but my patience was ultimately rewarded. And in the Weaver’s Edition I got, there was significant digital content including a comic featuring Hazel going toe-to-toe with a boo hag. But what I enjoyed the most was the documentary that shed some light on how Compulsion Games made such a heartwarming video game – from the research they conducted to the challenges in composing faithful songs akin to what one might hear should they go gallivanting around the Deep South.

That said, Donna Washington, an author they tapped for assistance, was shown reading Andrea Stewart’s Boneshard series in the video. Having finished reading those books last year, I could not help but delight in the fact others in the world will occasionally read the same books I do (and enjoy them).

Now if only more love can be shown to the Rook and the Rose trilogy by M. A. Carrick (thankfully, youtuber Elliot Brooks has it on the shelf behind her when she’s discussing tropes, new releases, and whatever else her audience demands.

Video games are complicated conglomeration of various different parts. While some can be built by one person, others require huge teams to come together. South of Midnight is no different. While I had a few gripes with elements of the gameplay and the main narrative, I very much fell in love with the characters and the mystical world Hazel found herself in. There are so many mysteries in the world and, through sharing the stories of what we know, we make it all the richer. In many ways, Compulsion Games were able to create their own Grand Tapestry by shedding light on a part of the world most only ever associate with beignets, gumbo and jazz.

Oh, and how could I forget about Crouton?! A patchwork plushie who helps Hazel out? 10/10. No notes.

Steeped in History

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

As the wheels of the QantasLink A220 kissed the tarmac of Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport, I could not help but feel that the week I spent in Tasmania was but a fleeting dream. Albeit, one marred by the fact we were in a holding pattern for upwards of thirty minutes due to unfavourable conditions. Yet even though it was primarily a transit day and my step count did not quite crack the ten thousand standard, there was still much for my family to see and do.

Our day started early as we packed and checked out from the hotel we were staying at. Though it was a little touch and go, with so many personalities to manage – especially my elderly Popo – we were on the road just before 10 AM. And though there was no one manning the reception desk, we were still able to return the key in the drop-off box.

Given that our flight back to Sydney was late in the afternoon, we were able to take our time on the drive to Launceston. Though there had been concerns the day before about spotfires due to the intense heat, by the time we set out, they were all being sufficiently managed. I saw neither flame nor flicker along our route. Nor were we diverted from the main highway.

Though there had been chance aplenty to have visited the townof Richmond earlier on the trip, my stepfather had been adamant we would only visit upon our return. A somewhat irksome request given the free time we had the day before. Nonetheless, there was no point in being needlessly contrary. I was to get my wish, regardless.

A historic Georgian town in the Coal River region, Richmond sits to the north east of Hobart. It is home to a scenic bridge and Australia’s oldest existing colonial gaol (pronounced like jail. It should be noted this is also slowly becoming the default spelling even here in Australia for the sake of simplicity).

More importantly, Richmond was alos home to Old Hobart Town. A specialist museum containing a historical model of what Hobart used to look like in centuries past while also featuring several fun figurines. These included a woman beating a snake, a boy falling from a tree, a hunter skinning a kangaroo and the ever elusive Tasmanian Tiger. But what I enjoyed most about the historical model was how easily it mapped onto the modern Hobart I had explored the day before as it was constructed from actual plans that were available.

From lashings and public hangings to merchants going about their day, each of the little people on display had their own story to tell. I definitely felt like I had stepped back through history and seeing the Hobart from yesteryear relative to the modern city I had come to know over the last few days.

Just down the street from Old Hobart Town was nestled Richmond Gaol. By the mid 1820s, Richmond was the third largest population centre in Tasmania and it soon became necessary for a local goal to be established to deal with those who committed offences while employed on public works or on surrounding rural properties.

When it opened its doors, W J Speed, an ex schoolmaster, became Richmond’s first gaoler. For approximately thirty years, it remained in service, with a steady stream of convicts entering its doors for a variety of offences. And while it was no Port Arthur, Richmond Gaol had it own vibrant history.

In 1853, transportation of convicts ceased and the gaol became a watch-house. In 1861, it came under control of the local municipal police. Use of the gaol continued to decline and it finally closed its doors in 1928. In 1971, it was registered as an historic site and has been privately leased since 1987.

On my self-guided tour of the gaol, I had a look at the many different cells and the individual stories of the inmates found within. I also enjoyed looking at artefacts from the time like the draught board and learning what the daily rations for each prisoner was.

Upon seeing my fill, I headed back out to rejoin the rest of my family, who had decided to forgo the trip into the gaol proper and had taken up residence at a local cafe. Once I’d caught up with them, we headed over to the Richmond Bridge – the oldest stone span bridge in the whole of Australia.

While all of these locations were all in close proximity, my family did shift our hire car further up the street to minimise how far we would need to push my Popo down the road in her wheelchair. Contributing, to my great dismay, to the lower number of steps taken throughout the day.

After we had seen our fill of Richmond, we headed straight for Launceston. Though I would have preferred for us to stop by Grindelwald (yes, there is a town in Tasmania called Grindelwald. I was surprised too), it was a little out of the way for the family. As such, we did not get to enjoy the Swiss-style village and its charming shopping arcade.

Instead, we waited for an inordinately long time at the airport in Launceston before we were finally allowed to check-in and go through security. By then, I’d made a decent dent through all the CaitVi fanfiction I was reading, as well as Hamnet, which I had on my ebook.

Though Tasmania is naught but an hour and a half from Sydney via plane, the six day family trip felt like a much needed adventure. After my mother and stepfather decided to reside in China for the last two years, it was good to venture out together with all four members of our household. While we did not quite escape the usual arguments and frustrations that comes from being all too familiar, it was still a nice change of pace.

And for someone (me) who hasn’t been to Tasmania, it was good to see the various locales of our southernmost state. Admittedly, it is still quintessentially Australian but there’s something about the cities that make them strikingly different to the likes of Sydney, Melbourne or even Brisbane. Everything, at least to me, feels more condensed. Nature sits right next to the bustling hubbub of the central business district.

Could it do with some more impressive shopping centres?

Perhaps.

But maybe the very fact Hobart and Launceston lack an impressively large Westfields is actually one of their many charms. And its their small local businesses that has won over the hearts and minds of those who live there and the tourists who come to visit.

That or it’s the seafood.

One Battle After Another

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

At the height of the backlash against supposed ‘woke’ video games, Dragon Age: Veilguard was supposedly one of the biggest casualties. This was true to an extent – it never quite reached the huge sales goal many thought it might and also scored low among critics – it still sold 1.5 million copies in the first two months after launch. Yet while I can agree the fourth entry in the Dragon Age franchise has many problems – from the repetitive writing at the start and during Bellara’s personal questline to the art direction not quite fitting the grimdark fantasy setting set by its predecessors (though, admittedly, there were a few areas they still managed to be quite unsettling like D’Meta’s Crossing) – there is still a kernel of greatness within. And who could deny neve or Emmrich their due?

Dragon Age: Veilguard released in October 2024, an entire decade (almost) after the third entry in the series, Dragon Age: Inquisition. In the intervening years, Veilguard went through multiple revisions, including a brief transition to a multiplayer live-service title, before pivoting back to single player. And many point to this turbulent development cycle for why Veilguard released to a rather lukewarm reception. The fact it even released is considered a miracle in and of itself.

You are Rook – a player insert Varric Thethras (fan favourite character who first appeared in Dragon Age 2) takes on as he hunts down his former friend, Solas, in northern Thedas. In my case, I was a qunari warrior from the Lords of Fortune. Why, I hear you ask? Well, it was mostly because I wanted to try out a different race and class from my usual default choices (hello elf/human rogue). As soon as you finish customising your avatar, you are thrust into a dangerous encounter with Solas as he attempts a ritual to bring down the Veil.

Things, understandably, go wrong. And while you are able to interrupt Solas’s ritual, two of the ancient elven gods escape (Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain). Meanwhile Solas, himself, is trapped inside a prison in the Fade. Varric, too, is severely wounded during the encounter and is bedbound.

So, begins your quest to save the world of Thedas and put a stop the ambitions of two megalomaniacal gods. Who said western role-playing games couldn’t throw in their own deicide plots in? That said, every time I heard Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, all I could envision in my head were Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Narratively, Veilguard plays the storybeats in a fairly straightforward manner. Rook knows from the start what the stakes are and goes about recruiting allies to their cause. Meanwhile, they respond to any whispers of the gods’ involvement in a desperate bid to a put a stop to them. Is it a little trope-heavy? I suppose. But I very much liked how it expanded on the lore from previous games (and as someone who hasn’t engaged in the comics or the novels, the revelations the gods were originally spirits who used lyrium to create physical forms was an interesting tidbit of world-building). I also liked how we, the players, got to interact with the other nations of Thedas though I missed having to deal with courtly intrigue or political powerplays.

Most times, it felt like Rook was easily able to find allies to fight against the gods. The only faction that resisted were the Wardens, but even then, it was mostly their blowhard of a First Warden (one I took great pleasure in taking a peg down or two).

I suppose my main gripe is the fact that the fight against the gods is not just one big war but simply a series of battles and interactions that leave our heroes scrambling. But I suppose that’s how one tells a great story, right? To make sure anything that can go wrong, does go wrong. Otherwise, where is the suspense? The heroes can only be heroes when they put their all in. Or, in the case of Veilguard, simply do, ‘Whatever it takes.’

The main narrative aside, I felt like most of my enjoyment came from the side stories and personal storylines. These helped provide additional context (while also gaining favour and later empowering your forces) to the wider world. My favourite side quests involved Emmrich and getting a better understanding of the Mourn Watch (necromancers who tended to the dead). Theirs was a contrasting perspective I had not seen in the Dragon Age games and it was refreshing to see a different side to spirits and the Fade in general. I also enjoyed my time exploring Arlathan Forest, having coffee with Lucanis in fictional Venice (Treviso) and exploring a small part of the Tevinter capital (Minrathous).

When it came to companion questlines, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with each and every single one of the stories. The one that stayed with the most, surprisingly, came from Taash. Although many people online were quite dismissive of the character because of ‘woke’ politics pushing the ‘LGBTQIA agenda down their throats,’ I felt more keenly that Taash’s story was more of migration and being able to live comfortably in two different worlds. As a second generation migrant, I knew that growing up, I often wished I was white instead of being of Chinese ancestry. It is only as I’ve grown older that I’ve come to appreciate my Chinese roots and the history that make up who I am and inform the views of my family. And this was the reason why I encouraged Taash to embrace their Qunari heritage rather than throw it away in favour of Rivaini culture (though why Taash couldn’t find a middleground between the two felt a little disingenious considering their non-binary arc).

Other storylines I enjoyed included Harding trying to understand her new stone powers, Emmrich’s fear of death (one I also share) and his lifelong desire to become a lich, and Neve’s attempts to protect her beloved Dock Town through any means necessary. Special shout out to Davrin and the ending of his questline that allowed me to pick a new home for the griffons.

By game’s end, I had ensured the survival of all my team (barring one because they HAD to die. Davrin and Assan, you will be missed. But I also couldn’t let the budding romance between Harding and Taash die). And while I would have preferred tricking Solas with the fake dagger, I chose, instead, to talk him down. And with the help of the Inquistor (which happened to somewhat follow my choices because I was an elf who had wanted to initially romance Solas before settling for Blackwall of all people), the Dread Wolf accepted his charge of tying the Veil to his life force with the love of his life.

When it comes to gameplay, I had a few initial gripes. The most jarring was how far left the player character was. Though this is supposedly present in other ‘cinematic’ games, never had I felt so disorientated as I did than in Veilguard. I also struggled, at first, with what I felt were relatively janky controls. While some of it may have come from the fact I was playing a role I was not used to (warrior as opposed to a rogue), I do feel like the control scheme could have been finetuned a little more.

That said, by the time I adjusted to my role as Rook, the leader who led in the front by utterly decimating by foes with a good overwhelming stomp and letting my shield richochet among long-range foes, I was enjoying myself quite a lot. That said, I do feel like Veilguard was a little limiting in the amount of abilities one could pin. Worse, it felt like there were few options to experiment with what abilities and skills allies could have.

By game’s end, it simply made more sense to me to always keep a rogue and a mage in the party. Why? Well, to pull off as many detonations as possible and deal massive damage to both bosses and ordinary foes. Not to mention deal other debilitating status conditions on them to my advantage.

Dragon Age: Veilguard is a game that tries something a little new to revitalise a series that had been languishing for years. While it did not pull it off, and the changes may have left quite a few fans scratching their heads, it still proved a solid entry. With some spit and shine, I’m sure BioWare can still prove their mettle by adding to the extensive lore they have already established. After all, there are whole seas beyond the continent of Thedas. But, like many, I do feel the new art direction was a misstep – much in the same way the overly saturated colours of the newer games stripped Diablo a little of its identity. If, hopefully, they tweak a little of the writing (and no, I don’t need Bellara to tell me in multiple conversations how Cyrian is her brother but we might still have to put him down for reasons), show off a little more blood so we can enjoy the carnage, and lean more into body horror, then I’d be keen to continue my path through this dark fantasy world and learn all its secrets. For, it should be said, there are still many left to be uncovered.

What happened to the other Evanuris? Will the blight ever be calmed and restored to the Titans? And what exactly do the Executors have planned for Thedas?

There are still so many rich story seeds in Dragon Age that I DO hope Veilguard is not the end. Yet, as with all things, it may simply be the fact that this ship has sailed and there won’t be a chance of going back (until maybe another ten or twenty years down the track where the original will be remade).

On a side note, I was definitely picking up on possible autistic vibes for Taash too. Even if they weren’t, they’re certainly autistic-coded. Not that it’s a bad thing. I mean, who doesn’t want to obsess over dragons? I certainly do.

Wait.

Oh no!

Throat of Hobart

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

As the sun crested the horizon, filtering through the slants of the blinds, I awoke to another day in the capital city of Tasmania. Without a list of locations to visit, our family decided for a lazier slower-paced adventure on our second last day. Our first stop? Mount Wellington.

According to Wikipedia and sources on the internet, Mount Wellington sits at an elevation of 1,271 metres. Occasionally, it will be covered by snow, even in summer, though when we ascended, this was not so. Albeit, it was still a good ten degrees lower than Hobart itself. More importantly, the windchill factor meant the outside temperature felt like it was plummeting fast. And I, in my infinite wisdom, had not brought along a jacket or windbreaker.

Originally named ‘Table Mountain’ it was renamed in 1832 in honour of the Duke of Wellington. Charles Darwin, father of evolution, also embarked on a climb in February 1836, and had remarked on the flora and fauna he found.

The road up to the summit was long and winding. Along the way, we stopped midway to look out over the sprawling harbour city before continuing back up. It was not until we reached the summit that I realised how underdressed I was. Still, I braved the winds, clambering up on rocks to snap as many of the natural scenery around me. While other tourists had chosen to balance on rather precarious rocks, I chose the more prudent and solid patches of ground. After all, it makes little sense to me to exchange my life for a passingly ‘decent’ photograph.

Beyond a strange tripod like structure that most everyone was flocking to, the one structure that caught my eye was the BAI Transmission tower. Made from concrete, it towers at about 130 metres. The construction of this tower was part of a movement towards statewide broadcasting.

With the wind chipping away at any resources of heat left in my body, I finally took shelter in the Pinnacle Observation Shelter. Though the day was slated to hit a high of 31 degrees Celsius, the mountain was far colder. Understandable given its height and the fact the summit of the mountain has a tundra climate. Before too long, I was joined by my family as we looked out over Hobart and took several shots of the city from our higher elevation.

Once we had explored every inch of the summit (bar the walking and fire trails), we headed back down. My hope, at the time, had been to visit the MONA. Even though it would not be open, I thought there might be an opportunity to see the outside facade so I could take a photo of the outside. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. We were stopped by a security guard redirecting any who ignored the ‘Closed’ sign atop the carpark entrance.

Lunch was at a small cafe near the MONA called 52 South. Reliant on the reviews on Google, I’d only skimmed the menu. It was not until we were wheeling Popo in on the wheelchair that I understood that while it was a cafe, it was also a Sri Lankan restaurant. This, however, did not serve as a deterrent (something most East Asians like my Popo might not have appreciated) and we ate our fill.

As the morning stretched into the afternoon, my stepfather and Popo were keen to return to the hotel. I, however, still wanted to explore the city proper. Thankfully, my stepfather was amenable to dropping my mother and I off. Hopping out, my mother and I hurried indoors to the closest shopping centre in the heart of Hobart.

The first was Centrepoint. A shopping mall with speciality retailers, it had a Dymocks that I quickly found myself browsing through. More importantly, it had public toilets my mother and I took advantage of. I was also curious about the Tassie Makers Market store but found nothing of interest on its shelves that would suit my souvenir needs. In fact, given Hobart is just another city in Australia, most of the souvenirs simply did not pass muster as being unique enough to warrant purchasing for my various friends.

Albeit, perhaps I ought to have taken a longer look at the gift shop in Port Arthur. Surely there might have been something I could have brought home to say I had been to the former penal colony.

From Centrepoint, my mother and I meandered towards the shopping arcade opposite: Cat & Fiddle. As we toured the shops, we slowly made our way to Elizabeth Street Mall. Once I’d sufficiently judged their rather lacklustre collection (though I did buy a Funko Pop of Senshi from Dungeon Meshi and agonised over whether or not to buy a few more packs of DIsney Lorcana (at time of writing this post in May, Wilds Unknown has just released and I managed to snag ALL the legendaries in just TWO booster boxes AND be blessed with Jack Jack. While it was not the Enchanted I wanted, nor the Iconic, the odds of pulling cards was significantly better than any previous set. Here’s hoping I get lucky again with Attack of the Vine).

Before heading back, my mother and I also took a detour to Area 52, a game store not too far from the shopping mall. Though my mum was less than impressed, I had wanted to see what merchandise they had on sale and was impressed by their wide selection of fantasy and science fiction novels to the board games on display. While I chose not to purchase MORE Disney Lorcana, I knew that if I were to ever revisit Hobart again, I knew exactly where I ought to head.

With the afternoon swiftly fading, my mother and I decided it was best to head back to our hotel. Instead of trying our luck with the public transport, we walked back (getting in valuable steps). Thankfully, much of the earlier heat had abated and it was a ismple trek down Sandy Bay Road to reach the hotel we had booked for our stay.

Thus ended our sojourn into the city. While I would have preferred a visit to the MONA or another museum close by, I still managed to satisfy my itch to explore the city.

Tomorrow, we would be heading back to Sydney. But first, we would need to drive all the way back to Launceston…

Veil Between (Epilogue)

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

My dear reader, it is with a heavy heart that I bring, for your viewing pleasure, the end of Veil Between. No longer will I have unedited parts of my short story kept in reserve when I have no idea what to offer to this small corner of the internet. Instead, you’ll have to suffer through the odd gaming post and the occasional attempt at philosophical whimsy.

Or is it?

The good news, dear reader, is that I have finished another eldritch horror short story! Set in the Australian outback, it follows a private investigator as she tries to track down two missing backpackers. Along the way, she uncovers the secrets of the fictional town of Woollanoogatta. But that’s not all! Sharing the spotlight are snippets of a girl called Shiraz and her interactions with a mysterious box she finds in a local pawn shop.

Best of all, though, is the fact I’ve started work on yet another short story. It is tentatively titled Hive. The story revolves around a history professor and a break-in where an artefact of unknown origin is stolen. While I have an idea of how the story ends, the middle bits still need a bit of teasing out before I have a full picture.

Presumably, though, it’s set in the UK.

In terms of my personal life, 2026 has not been a very good year. At time of writing this post (May), both of my paternal grandparents have passed. First, my grandmother and then shortly thereafter, my grandfather. As yet, I am uncertain if I’ll be expected to return to China for a reading of the will. Admittedly, it’s something I’ve been dreading as I simply don’t have enough annual leave (what with a five week trip to the United Kingdom and Singapore also underway).

But these are concerns outside the realm of my control. I will simply have to cross that bridge once I get there.

Meanwhile, the next gaming blog post should be about Dragon’s Age Veilguard. Finally I can get into all the 2025 video games that have been languishing in my backlog! The one I’ll be tackling first? South of Midnight and then Clair Obscur: Expedition 33.

And yes, Expedition 33 is skipping ahead of Assassin’s Creed: Shadows and Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii. Why, you may ask? Because I want to play it before I turn 34 and get gommaged out of existence.

With that all out of the way, please enjoy the final part of Veil Between!

The ballroom looked almost unchanged when I opened my eyes. Or so I thought. But as I looked closer, I could see the shattered windows and the broken tables. Strangely enough, the chandelier remained untouched. How it had escaped the carnage, I could not say.

Of the eldritch monster, there was no sign. I could not tell if it had been killed or if it had been banished back to where it had come from. Nor could I see the others.

All I knew was that I had returned. And Mike was not with me.

Panic spiked through my veins. I called out to him but received no response. I whirled on my heels and headed towards the grand doors, pushing them open.

A groan close by drew my attention. Stepping over the debris and into the adjacent room, I found Copernicus. He was lying on his back, wounded. A nasty slash to the ribs. I knelt down next to him, unsure if I ought to add pressure to it or if it would only make it worse. “What happened?” I asked.

“Ah, Mr Brookstone. I wondered when you would return to us.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Copernicus. You’re hurt.”

“Astute as always,” came the pithy rejoinder before he hissed with pain. Copernicus motioned to his side. “This comes courtesy of Madam Xanthe. I knew her for a snake but I hadn’t quite anticipated just how ferocious she would be cornered. Nor had I expected an ally.”

“Who?”

Copernicus shook his head, his breathing tight. “I’ve already made a call to the authorities. You need to stop her before they get here. Lest she unleash something truly horrifying into our world.”

“Where?”

With some effort, he raised a hand and pointed towards the drawing room. The place where we had sat conducting the very first séance. And where all our misfortunes had begun.

Reluctantly, I rose to my feet. It was difficult, leaving Copernicus behind, but there was only so much aid I could render him beyond tearing off a sleeve, placing it atop his injuries and telling him to hold it in place to stem the bleeding. He had listened as graciously as he could before shooing me off.

My steps were heavy as I approached. I had no weapons. No tricks.

The sight that greeted me could have been lifted from a badly written movie. Hovering protectively over Adeline was Patrice. In both hands, she gripped knitting needles. Maria stood opposite her, one arm hanging limply at her side, her rapier wielded in her non-dominant hand. Not too far from them lay Rachel, her unseeing eyes gazing up towards the ceiling of the garishly decorated room, which was now little more than a ruin.

Deep gashes scored the carpet, biting into the wood panelling beneath. The centre table had been knocked aside and the drapes lay quiet on the ground. Faint Latin words adorned the doorway. Brackish black, they looked to have been burned into the frame.

Maria’s eyes darted to me and widened in surprise. It was enough.

Taking advantage of the opportunity afforded her, Patrice lunged forward, leading with her right hand. Maria stumbled backwards, barely parrying the strike and too slow to stop the second. The needle sunk in deep as Maria let out a surprised gasp.

She looked from Patrice to me before her eyes flickered to something behind me. Fear flashed over her face. She opened her mouth, whether to scream, to warn or to curse, I could not say. Before anyone could react, an invisible force lifted her up from the floor and snapped her neck.

Maria’s dead body crumbled to the ground. Like her strings had been cut.

Just as I was trying to understand what was happening, something tackled me from behind. I whirled round at the last moment, back thumping against the ground, as familiar fingers curled around my neck.

I gasped for air, tapping at his hands and arm to plead with him to let go, but Mike only tightened his grip. Intent, it seemed, on crushing my windpipe.

My thoughts whirled. A part of me was glad he was back. Another was terrified this would be the end. But a third was only concerned with what Mike had borne witness to, trapped in another world. What had caused him to hate me so that he saw as naught but an enemy?

These thoughts and more flitted through my head as each attempt to free myself grew more desperate. But the pressure only increased.

As my vision began to darken at the edges, Mike suddenly slumped forward with a groan. He had been knocked unconscious from a blow to the head.

I took a moment to recentre myself, dragging in lungful after lungful of air. Once some semblance of strength had returned to my limbs, I pushed Mike gently to the side.  

“You all right there, Jordie dear?” asked Patrice as she lowered the broken vase and dusted off her hands.

“Shaken,” I managed to say, massaging my throat. “Mike. Is he…?”

Patrice nudged him with the toe of her foot. “Still alive. Probably has a wicked concussion, though.” She nodded towards Mike’s unconscious body as if she had settled a debate of some kind. “Goes to show why omegas should never try to usurp the alpha.”

“You do, realise, Patrice, that AO3 is a site for fictional stories. Right? Targeted for people who enjoy particular shows or book series? And that some of the things written on there are just not talked about in polite society?” At her nonchalant shrug, I let out a deep sigh, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose “For the love of God…we’ve talked about this, Patrice. Countless times. Were you not listening?”

“Might have,” she sheepishly admitted. “It was all so dreary. You really need to dress up the way you teach, Jordie. Make it fun. Less boardroom presentation and more of a party slideshow. If you know what I mean.” She offered me a hand to help me to my feet and I accepted it graciously, allowing her to pull me up.

As the adrenaline from the last few moments faded, I glanced behind over towards Adeline. The Faversham heir was still breathing, albeit shallowly. Blood soaked her shirt and she looked to have an innumerable number of cuts on her arms and face. All of it told a frightening tale that I didn’t want to acknowledge. Was Adeline also a traitor. If so, why had Patrice tried to defend her?

The question must have shown on my face for as soon as Patrice joined me, she shook her head. “Adeline, sweet girl, is an innocent. It was Rachel. She and Maria, they’re part of the same fanatical sect of worshippers. As was Magdalene.”

I glanced over at Rachel. Never in my wildest dreams would I have assumed the strait-laced personal assistant capable of betrayal. And yet, here was the proof before my very eyes. “But why? What did they gain from all this senseless death?”

“Money. And, in my opinion, a powerful artefact.”

“The pendant?” I asked, turning to face Patrice.

The Scotswoman nodded. “It’s the only explanation. Though what they need it for, I don’t quite know. Copernicus had his theories, of course, though he hadn’t seen the point of sharing them. He’d been looking into their cult for years. Lucky thing, that. Spotted the mark of the stars the two of them bore within seconds.”

“Why didn’t he tell me any of this?”

“Wasn’t your fight, was it?” said Patrice. “You had other concerns.” She nodded towards Mike, who was now stirring on the ground.

When Mike opened his eyes, he looked lost and confused. The rage from earlier had been snuffed out. Replaced, instead, with fear at my approach.

Days after, I would remember the way he flinched as I reached out to touch him. The sight of it had broke my heart.

I knew then something in Mike had radically changed. He was no longer the man I knew.

But to have tossed him to the side like yesterday’s trash was anathema to me.

Mike was hurt. Traumatised. It was only right for me to be there for him at every step of his recovery. To serve as his protector as he readjusted. No matter what the cost, or the burden placed upon me.

After all, the world was a terrifying place. Filled with unempathetic monsters who didn’t care for the lives of others. And God knew it was made worse by the enemies lurking behind a flimsy magical barrier that were intent on taking over the Earth for their own nefarious reasons.

Yet, even with the odds stacked against us, I knew Mike and I would get through this like we always did.

This time, we even had a few staunch friends on our side.

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

If you had the power to go back and rectify a wrong, would you do it? What if it was to save the life of someone you care deeply about? Going through life, there have been moments where I’ve wondered what it might be like if I could just hit reset or reload a previous save and redo my choice based on the knowledge I now had. It’s tempting to go for the ‘perfect’ run that is life instead of being weighed down by the mistakes of the past. Yet, it is these moments that define us and make us who we are. If I changed pivotal aspects of how my life has played out, would I even be the same person as I am now?

This is a question Life is Strange: Reunion attempts to tackle with rather middling results. While Deck Nine try to let Max Caulfield have her cake and eat it too, the fact she barely faces any significant consequences for her meddling with the space-time continuum left much to be desired. Especially when Moses, one of her best friends at Caledon University, tries to emphasise to our would-be hero that even with her ability to rewind time, she is only one person and much like everyone else in the world she can only make the best decision she can based on the limited information she has in a given situation.

Whether or not Reunion should have been the follow-up to Double Exposure is a debate for another time. As for whether there will ever be any further follow-ups to the franchise, one can hope but it would need to be a fresh new idea that does not retread familiar ground. Not to mention the whole Diamond storyline that never saw resolution.

Then, of course, there’s the whole Safi elephant in the room. And for her, I only have a few choice words:

Safi, girl, I know you want to form a polycule with Chloe and Max, but please. Being too clingy is not a good look.

With that out of the way, let’s dive in!

Life is Strange: Reunion begins with Max returning to Caledon after a successful run of her gallery show of her photography series in New York. As she rests near an overlook, she receives a cryptic call from Moses. Terrified of what it might mean, she hops back into her car. Once she reaches the campus, however, Max finds the entire university aflame. She heads first to a locked auditorium where students are trapped before heading to the observatory. Up on the roof, she spies Moses and a green-haired girl in his arms. They fall and Max is blown back by an explosion. Regaining consciousness mintues later, she uses the polaroid photo she took three days ago and jumps back into the past to prevent the fire from happening in the first place.

So, begins the premise of Life is Strange: Reunion where Max has to figure out how the fire in Caledon started and attempt to stop it. But this latest entry in the Life is Strange franchise is not solely Max’s story. It also belongs to Chloe.

Following the ending of Life is Strange: Double Exposure, Max has merged two disparate timelines together in order to keep Safi alive. In so doing, she also inadvertently brought back Chloe (or Arcadia Bay if you decided on the Bae ending). In fact, the first few scenes of the game feature Chloe Price in the green room of a dive bar suffering an existential breakdown just before the band she manages, Drugstore Makeup, goes out on stage. Wanting to figure out why she is having these quasi-dreams/ nightmares, Chloe decides to pay Max a visit.

Narratively, Life is Strange: Reunion keepts it simple by focusing its overarching story on stopping a future fire at Caledon University. For most of the early chapters, Max investigates potential leads, including an abandoned building belong to the campus occult club, the Abraxas society. Yet deespite the fact she is a member of the faculty, Max is relatively ignorant of the festering anger in Lakeport and the rather aggressive overtures by the new Presiden of Caledon, Owen Teller.

As I played through these portions of the game, I could not help but wonder why it would take an actual disaster for Max to actually become cognisant of all the internal politics happening on campus. But hey, what do I know? I’m not an indie artist. And I’m certainly no teacher with a portfolio of amazing photographs that my agent is trying to set up a gallery for.

While on her one-woman crusade (with a little help from science professor Moses), Max finds herself skulking around the Abraxas house in the middle of a Friday night. While there, she stumbles upon Loretta Rice, a journalist major who is intent on uncovering whatever conspiracies might be found on campus (though I found her ways somewhat questionable in Double Exposure, here Loretta isn’t trying to ruin Max’s life). Thankfully, with Max’s presence, they manage to escape and stop an early demolition attempt. As Loretta goes to confront the people who tried to kill her (accidentally), Max is greeted by the sudden appearance of her best friend from childhood, Chloe Price.

And, if I’m being honest, the moment hit so much harder given the choice I made at the end of Life is Strange. After all, by choosing Arcadia Bay over her, Max had to deal with the guilt of her death for nigh on a decade.

After the two catch-up, with Chloe first crashing on Max’s bed for the night, they decide to investigate the fire together. Meanwhile, Max promises to help understand the reason behind Chloe’s visions of an alternate dimension where the lighthouse from Arcadia Bay coexists with the Outlook near Caledon.

As the game progresses, Chloe and Max uncover hidden secrets about Abraxas and its ties to former President of Caledon, Yasmin Fayyad. This information, in turns, helps them identify the various culprits behind the fire that engulfs the campus on Sunday night.

Yet despite their efforts, the observatory is still set alight by a single cigarette that drops from Safi’s hand as she and Chloe disappear into a different plane of existence during an altercation in Moses’s office. Max, racing back to the campus, is able to save the rest of the students with the help of the nameless custodian and a newly introduced security guard.

Though I feel the return to Max Caulfield as the protagonist in the more recent Life is Strange games a misstep by Deck Nine, I do wish to commend them for their efforts in trying to appease an impossible fanbase. And while the developers do manage to conjure up plausible reasons for both the return of Safi and Chloe, I could not help but feel most of the other characters felt like side dressing. From Amanda to Owen Teller and even Lucas.

That said, I did give Max her due and allowed her to kindle a romance with Chloe. In my own headcanon, she was still figuring things out at Blackwell Academy and was struggling to deal with a lot of trauma. It also helped, I think, with the fact Chloe is much more palatable as an adult than a troubled teen still struggling with the death of her father. Especially when you have Safi bringing in the crazy (and Chloe isn’t getting up to dumb things that keep getting her killed).

But I also feel Deck Nine played to their strengths by keeping the game pushing forward without feeling the need to stop every two hours or so to provide a stats screen of one’s choices. Yes. You read that right. Reunion does away with the usual chapters. Instead, it presents the problem Max is tackling right from the start and doesn’t leave us guessing with cryptic cliffhangers that leave the player guessing as to the true nature of the fire.

Yet by keeping the story so tightly focused, I do feel like Deck Nine passed on the opportunity for a little mischief and fun side activities Chloe and Max could partake in. True, Max does get to duel it out in a silent auction with Vinh AND listen to questionable poetry at an open mic night at the Snapping Turtle, yet the game did not capture my imagination as well as the LARP event Alex Chen enjoyed in Haven Springs.

From a gameplay perspective, Reunion sticks to its roots. Max is, once again, able to rewind time. This allows her to play out different scenarios to her advantage. Whether it’s with a heckler at the Snapping Turtle or with Board Member Yasmin Fayyid. Admittedly, there was some tension when Max and Loretta were stuck in the basement of the Abraxas house and desperately trying to escape before the four charges that were set in its foundations exploded.

With Chloe returning as a playable character, she is able to access her ‘super’ power of Backtalk. To my chagrin, though, these events were few and far between. Much of Chloe’s playthrough simply involved interacting with a key item and then moving on to the next conversation with an important character.

Other than that, much of Reunion simply required Max and Chloe to suss out any and all suspicious items within their vicinity. This could then be added to the evidence whiteboard in the latter part of the game. The only other interesting gameplay aspect of the game included the various collectibles for both Max and Chloe. With a handy guide on hand, finding these took little effort, though I suppose the commentary for each added a little more personality to each character.

Technically, Life is Strange: Reunion had a few hiccups during my playthrough. The major one that irritated me the most? The texture pop-ins. Despite releasing in 2026, Reunion felt like a game from ten years ago with the way it handled loading for the various environments that made up Caledon University.

I also disliked how few places there were to explore. Reunion kept you gated on the main pathway with little in the way of exploration. While there were a few new places the game takes you, these areas were small and kept you locked in place.

Life is Strange: Reunion is not a perfect game. Though I feel like the developers could have done much more with Life is Strange IP, what they brought to life still has its merits. While the themes remain a little thin and it feels like Max never truly learned the lesson she should have back in the original Life is Strange, it was a nice diversion to return to familiar characters and see how much their life has changed over the years. Should Life is Strange continue in another shape or form, I would like to see what original ideas Deck Nine can bring. It’s clear they have a passion for storytelling even when it falters at times.

On a side note, I really loved the autumnal aesthetic.