Kate's Reviews (New: Vampire: The Masquerade — Out for Blood)

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Royal Affairs

By Harris Powell-Smith

:star::star::star::star::star::star::star:☆☆☆ (7/10)

I can’t help but feel a tad disappointed after finishing Royal Affairs, Harris Powell-Smith’s fourth work published and third in the Crème de la Crème ("CdlC”) universe. I honestly couldn’t say why. It’s technically sound as CdlC with a lot of branching, and the cast of ROs are plentiful and more fleshed-out. There’s also an addition of your royal family, consisting of your mother, the Queen, your older princess, the Heir, and your younger brother. The new political addition to the school slice-of-life is light enough to be enjoyable instead of preachy. But I didn’t love Royal Affairs as much as I thought I would. I think it was because (a) Powell-Smith had to develop two plots in conjunction, which weakened the school setting, and (b) there wasn’t enough time to get attached to the cast. I also has some problems with my chosen RO (Javi) and their romance.

Pros:
:white_check_mark: Cast. Powell-Smith has included another large ensemble cast, and from the limited amount of time I had with them, I really enjoyed them. Asher is your bodyguard and is the classic golden retriever, childhood best friend. Beaumont respects you but will not kiss your ass. Dominique is a bit harder to pin down, but they’re a warm, mystical type. Trevelyan is the fiery revolutionary. Hyacinthe is a shy yet talented dancer (who reminds me of Olivia from Fire Emblem: Awakening, actually). Javi is your arranged political marriage and remind me of a yowling cat. I honestly wished to romance everyone; romance is clearly Powell-Smith’s strongest point. They’re all charismatic in their own ways.

:white_check_mark: Family. I adored the addition of the Royal Family. I had a good relationship with my mother, and she struck a good balance between a shrewd politician and loving mother. Your older sister is sweet, if not a bit skittish, and your younger is just a delight. He worships the ground you walk on and is a brave boy. Having a family fleshes out the main character besides them being a blank slate. It’s nice to come back from school drama or political tension and have people who clearly care about you, not just your reputation or usefulness.

:white_check_mark: Setting/worldbuilding. One of my critiques about CdlC is that we didn’t get much worldbuilding. I knew we lived in an vaguely English aristocracy with little religion but that was about it. I didn’t find it necessary to explore more lore, but it would have been nice to. Well, Powell-Smith has created a lovely Setting Guide and taken the reader to three different nations: Zaledo, Jezhan, and Teran. Each nation has its own culture with different ruling styles. And each nation also has their eyes on your fragile Westerlin. I especially enjoyed learning more about things like differing religious attitudes and normalized polyamorous relationships. It made the setting feel lived-in rather than just a backdrop for school drama.

Mixed:
:yellow_square: Much easier difficulty than CdlC. It’s funny, you’re balancing many more stat bars in Royal Affairs, yet the game feels much easier. I didn’t have to do anything (or, at least it seemed like that), but I had high popularity with the students, my friends, and the public. I chose to study twice in my free time and breezed to an A. This effect is also prominent in the narrative, as well. Since you’re royalty, everyone is kissing your ass. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun—I like a power fantasy as much as the next guy—but I think it made Royal Affairs have less stakes than CdlC. Where CdlC thrived on social friction, trade-offs, and the anxiety of choosing what to prioritize, Royal Affairs often smooths those edges away. The result is a story that’s pleasant and empowering but lighter on stakes. Being royalty is thematically appropriate, sure—but it also means fewer moments of uncertainty, fewer hard choices, and less of that “oh no, did I mess up?” energy that made CdlC so engaging to me. Still, I know some wished CdlC was less difficult, and the easier difficulty can be fun.

Cons:
:red_square: Not enough time with cast. This might be a strange con—how can I love the cast if I haven’t spend enough time with them? Well, their introductions are so strong that I could clearly see the arcs, chemistry, and potential relationships taking shape. There were many scenes where you could spend time with them. Except . . . when presented with a free time interlude, you only could pick one person to spend time with. In theory, that makes sense. Time is limited. Choices should have consequences. In practice, it bottlenecks character development and romance. To initiate a romance, you need repeated one-on-one time, which effectively means committing early and hard. I chose Javi, and that choice quietly locked me out of exploring anyone else. Dominique’s triad route does exist, but there’s no real signposting that it’s an option, so I missed it entirely because I didn’t want to miss out on Javi’s scenes. I wish there were two options per choice instead and more focus on the characters. At the end of the game, half of the cast just … vanished for me. I didn’t feel as connected to Dominique and Beaumont as I did with Freddie or Max in CdlC.

:red_square: Is almost too similar to CdlC. The calendar at Archambault Academy is pretty much the same as Gallatin, with engagement season at the end. This was fun, I loved it! However, there’s also a two rival professors subplot. This was also done in CdlC and better, as you could set up the teachers. Lastly, the ending plot twist is incredibly obvious, with even characters in-game commenting on how it already happened. The Fabien kidnapping Trevelyan subplot was incredibly unnecessary.

:red_square: Stat checks too opaque. I encountered this problem in Fool!, as well. Your Powers of Persuasion (Eloquence/Authoritative/Appealing/Cunning/Entertaining) stat checks are usually pretty clear. But I wasn’t a fan of the Action Skills (Planner/Improviser, Forceful/Subtle, Calm/Passionate, Ruthless/Soft-Hearted) tests, as well. To me, the Action Skills should be more flavor text. But I was playing as a Subtle and Calm princess and choosing excited reactions, like clapping loudly, got me some strange looks. It made the results feel inconsistent and constrained.

:red_square: Javi romance. Initially, I was hyped for a slow burn push-and-pull, enemies-to-lovers romance with Javi. However, I was disappointed when the romance scenes were surprisingly chaste. I could kiss them on the cheek or hug them, but that was shockingly it. Even when getting married, we exchanged “I love you’s” once, and I still could not kiss them. After finishing the game, I learned via the forums that Powell-Smith intended Javi as “asexual and does not do kissing or sex with the MC.” To my knowledge, Javi has one or two lines about something that’s potentially quite the deal breaker for some people. Being aseuxal has such a broad meaning, as well; there should have been a big conversation about their preferences. When reading, I felt like the romance was incomplete and oddly evasive. I felt cheated out of a fairy tale, political romance, actually, ngl. To me, a real romance has to include some physical or emotional intimacy. Big gestures, little touches, desire, a connection. But for Javi, there was no kisses, no passion, no emotional heat—nothing that makes a romance feel like a romance. I would point readers looking for a traditional romance to look at the other cast, instead.

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Choice of Robots

By Kevin Gold

:star::star::star::star::star::star::star::star::star::star: (10/10)

Well, shit. I seem to be saying this a lot, but Choice of Robots (“CoR”) really is That Girl™️. It seems to be the only “mainstream” Interactive Fiction game so far, with an Overwhelmingly Positive 1,894 reviews. I can see why. In IF, there’s a broad spectrum of stories. On one end are the novels, where there aren’t a lot of inner mechanics, and the appeal is the writing. On the other spectrum are games. Or, I suppose, a gamebook? Where the writing and plot is more secondary to the underlying mechanics and player freedom. While respecting both, Choice of Robots is clearly on the latter end of the spectrum. It’s all about branching, choice reactivity, and mechanics. That’s not to say it doesn’t have good writing—Kevin Gold’s prose is simple yet beautiful—but there are glossed over plot points and little character development. I usually champion story above all else, yet Choice of Robots made me concede a rare point—the medium itself can be the message. Because CoR is a game obsessed with reactivity: choices echo forward, paths fracture and recombine, and the consequences of your decisions are structural rather than cosmetic. Long after the details blur, what lingers is the shape of the world I made—and the uncomfortable clarity that no one else made it for me.

Pros:
:white_check_mark: Branching and reactivity. CoR is obsessed with reactivity in a way few IFs ever manage. This isn’t a game where choices slightly tweak flavor text or relationships. Chapter 6 has four different climaxes, depending on your story! Paths fracture, rejoin, and diverge again based on early, sometimes seemingly innocuous choices—what dream you picked first, who is funding you, did you give your robot a gun for an arm. I cannot stress enough how everything matters.

:white_check_mark: Complex moral quandaries. CoR doesn’t do anything new. (I’m thinking of Detroit: Become Human already playing with human/AI ethics). But what it does is give you is a cute, fun story that quickly accelerates into an emotionally intense and genuine series of dilemmas. I wanted to be a brilliant yet charitable inventor. No violence, I vowed, and no military operations. And yet, when I found myself having to choose between my morals and the need to keep funding my robot, I caved. I’m sorry, I did! While I secretly made my robots more graceful and empathetic, the U.S. Army used my robots only as a support or defence unit. This was fine, I told myself. Every soldier needs a good medic. And my robots are smart, too. I grew extremely wealthy. So my morals weren’t actually compromised, right? Except, even small actions—like choosing how your robot handles a minor dispute—can snowball into questions about slavery, war, and the ethics of consciousness. “Doing no harm” is a luxury you can’t always afford.

:white_check_mark: Mechanics and stat systems. Unlike most IF, Gold strips personality down to the bone. There’s no slider for “sarcastic” or “kind,” no physical descriptions to pin your character to. You’re reduced to a name, a gender, an age, a year—and four blunt measures of success: Humanity, Fame, Wealth, and Romance. It’s almost unsettling how little the game thinks it needs to know about you. And yet, it works. Humanity tends to fall as Fame and Wealth rise, not because the game is cynical, but because it understands tradeoffs. Becoming visible, powerful, and comfortable often means becoming compromised. You’re not “evil," right? You’re just busy, distracted, or insulated.

:right_arrow: The robot, ironically, is where the real complexity lives. With only four stats—Autonomy, Military, Empathy, and Grace—it feels simpler than a human at first, until you realize how tightly wound those traits are. Empathy makes the robot gentler, more perceptive, but it actively weakens its Military effectiveness. Push it toward strength and obedience, and you sand down its softness. Every improvement is also a subtraction. And everything feels super personal, like I’m raising my own child! When the robot responds coldly, or fails to understand why humans are suffering, it’s hard not to recognize your own fingerprints on it. What did you optimize? What did you decide wasn’t worth protecting?

:white_check_mark: Prose. Honestly, Gold’s language is competent, but not “literary” or beautiful. It’s quite matter-of-fact, almost history-like as it narrates events in your life. But it’s rather charming in its simplicity.

:white_check_mark: Unique ROs. I was impressed with the ROs. They are not tropes or even conventional attractive. Each one has their own flaw. My chosen RO, E, was staunchly anti-military and expressed disapproval that I sold my bots to the military. So much so, in fact, that I got broken up with! The fact that a side character had this much agency delighted me. Josh, another RO, is uh. Not a romantic guy and not exactly a traditional, steady romance. You can get with your stalker, so that’s fun as hell! Another RO I found is Juliet who works for the military—which opens up a whole can of worms! These aren’t “dateable cardboard cutouts” at all. Push against their morals too much, and they’ll be angry enough to dump you. But somehow balancing your relationship and ambition is satisfying, with just enough tension and consequence that it never feels predictable.

Cons:
:red_square: Glossed over milestones. This is the biggest con. Because the game spans such a large period of your life, there’s always going to be moments skipped over. For example, my biggest issues were when I got imprisoned, got pardoned by the President, got married to my RO, and had a child. These events followed Gold’s vignette style—but suffered as a consequence. While that approach works beautifully for passing years and gradual shifts, it undersells events that should feel life-altering. And none of these moments are badly written, mind you, they’re just over too quickly. I got maybe two pages of exposition and companion reactions, when the significance of the moment demanded way, way more.

:red_square: Similarly, your ROs don’t … seem to change much. While their reactions to your choices can be sharp and immediate, their personalities and core beliefs remain largely static. Even after years of story progression or major plot events, they often respond in the same way they did at the start. E will always be liberal. Josh will always be a capitalist. You and the robot change so much, while the side cast pales in comparison.

:red_square: Quite a bit of pop culture references. The age is dating CoR a bit. There were quite a lot of references to past and current (at the time) events. I didn’t mind the books or literature, but I was never a big song or movie person. A lot of the references came off as cheesy to me.

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It was funny reading that you felt this way about Royal Affairs because my experience actually went in the opposite direction. RA is the absolute best CdlC installment in my eyes, across the board, as well as the only one of those games that makes my list of favorites from CoG in general. And I don’t even disagree (at least not wholly) with most of your points, either! Goes to show how odd emotional resonance is.

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Honestly, I’m still baffled as to why RA didn’t hit for me! I’m playing Honor Bound, and it’s so much better, but at the same time, still quite similar!

I honestly prefer reviewing “bad” games over games I feel meh about. At least I can say something more concrete than “the vibes were off.” I played An Imp and an Imposter a couple days ago, and I literally had nothing to say except “meh.” Poor authors! How difficult it must be to write for such a fickle audience!

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I think this is good advice for authors, too. If you write a solid, all-round story, then people will play it when they want something solid and all-round, which is never. If you have incredible sensory immersion, or incredible persistent decision tracking, or incredible plot and pacing, or incredible fast-burn romances, people will resonate with that, and it won’t matter if you have cardboard stock characters, or it’s extremely linear, or the plot goes nowhere.

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Interestingly, Josh actually changes significantly over the course of the War if he’s in business with you.

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While robot ethics stories definitely predate Choice of Robots, I feel compelled to point out here that CoR predates Detroit: Become Human by four years.

That aside, I think that CoR’s approach to things is the only way you’re gonna get real reactivity in a game without that game having to be a million words long. I feel like a ‘modern style’ Choice of Robots would take an extra 700,000 words to tell the exact same story with more descriptions and more dialogue, and I honestly don’t think the game would be the better for it. I think there’s something to be said for this format of “make a choice, see what happens, make another choice, see what happens next” where it’s short and punchy and doesn’t get bogged down in pages of descriptions.

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I go back and forth with this tbh. In a perfect world, I would prefer the extra content. I think some of the plot points/narrative is weaker due to the lack of it. Buuuut it’s unrealistic to expect Gold—or any author—to go so hard with real reactivity, write thousands of words more, and spend years on one work. You win some, you lose some :woman_shrugging:

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Fun fact, Choice of Robots is why I even learned CoG existed when it got viral on tumblr. However, I never got past the demo, but bought Tin Star instead and fell deeply into the swamp. In retrospect I am vibing a lot more with the more book aspect of interactive fiction, rather than the game aspect (though ideally they enhance each other).

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I kiiiinda have to confess, I was instinctively scrolling past “Choice of…” titles when picking demos to read, because this naming convention sounds kinda franchisey? Conveyor-beltish? Anyway, not bookish enough, but this thread is great for recommendations, so I tried, got hooked by professor’s rant about Inspector Gadget’s Chief, bought by burger choice. :robot:
…will have to go back and check on them skipped choices-of now, won’t I.

Tin Star didn’t hook me in though. :confused: Frontier setting does nothing for me, but I can overlook settings if I like everything else but, well, it started with a lore dump followed by some fat paragraphs of environment descriptions, wordy choice to pick a horse breed when I know bupkis about horses, wordy choice to pick a gun type, bupkis about them too, and by time I reached two dudes bickering about cattle or something I decided I don’t care about them – or anything else in the game.

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It’s kind of the same here except I couldn’t get past Tin Star demo (at first, played though the whole game latter) which I first saw on Tv Tropes and ended up going though Sabers and Guns of Infinity after looking though a bit of a Somethingawful let’s play thread. Latter for Fallen Hero I stumbled upon a non commentary let’s play on YouTube with what I vaguely remember as a relaxing and somewhat sad synth playlist (which sadly got the video taken down eventually) which got me interested to try out Rebirth then afterwards immediately digging though what was the alpha at the time for Retribution

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IMO, the big thing about Choice of Robots is that it feels very much like a game designed around being replayed multiple times so that you can make new choices and see where they’d have taken you. I think you lose a lot of that if you fluff the game out too much. Replaying the game just takes too much time if each playthrough is roughly the length of a novel.

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Did you get to ride the bear in your playthrough?

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I wish I did! I didn’t even know that was a choice!

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Samurai of Hyuga Book 2

By Devon Connell

:star::star::star::star::star::star::star:☆☆☆ (7/10)

The best way I would describe Samurai of Hyuga Book 2 is a fun, hot mess. It is by no means a bad book. Not at all! It’s the literal definition of a gleeful, chaotic romp through the woods that doesn’t put on any airs. For better or for worse, this is the author’s little playground—and you’re just in for the ride. That sounds a bit negative, but it’s true. Devon Connell’s prose is wonderfully descriptive, and the plot is just beginning to heat up. However, Book 2 comes with a newfound linearity, which may be a dealbreaker to same players.

Pros:
:white_check_mark: Descriptions. The prose delights in acts of cultural translation. Mundane pleasures—desserts, wine, customs—are broken down slowly and almost pedagogically, as if the narrator is teaching both the protagonist and the reader how to partake in a foreign culture rather than merely observe it. Connell’s prose works so well because it mirrors the emotional state of the main character. While the ronin protagonist might know how a dessert smells or looks like, the protagonist’s lived experience is rice, salt, and survival. Of course they would linger on the sweetness of a dessert. There’s more historical worldbuilding too: casual observations like offhand comments, comparisons, or misunderstandings.

:white_check_mark: Shogi minigame. I kid you not, a large part of the book is about shogi, the Japanese version of chess. However, you and your ronin have the same reaction when encountering this activity: confusion, maybe slight horror. The game is familiar to them, but they can’t read the symbols; likewise, most players won’t know shogi at all. You are forced to use context clues and hints to figure out what piece is what and where it goes. On my part, I had an absolute blast with the light logic puzzles. I didn’t even know the engine could have images! You are also required to remember characters and names, as you’re tested a couple times. It’s quite clever and refreshing!

Cons:
:red_square: Linear. Usually I don’t mind linearity, as linearity in itself isn’t a bad thing, but it’s hard to ignore how railroaded you are in Book 2. The main hook of the game shifts from Book 1’s action to a dramatic slife-of-life. You truly have to “buy in” with the writer’s mindset. For example, a large subplot (or even plot) is a potential romance with Momoko. It’s a sort of push-and-pull, forbidden love. The problem comes in when your (not optional) best friend Hatch falls madly in love with her. You even have to go to a love hotel with her. I found this dramatic in a goofy way, but if you don’t want to romance Momoko, you’re going to feel railroaded. Additionally, you are not allowed to solve this problem: you are not allowed to talk honestly to Hatch, even though he asks for your advice many times, and the final confrontation between you two is a hella dramatic “HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME?” ending. It certainly felt artificially engineered.

:right_arrow: More linearity! Another factor that caused me to raise my eyebrow was the obvious traps in the plot. Light spoilers, but there’s a shifty figure who’s offering help for free. Additionally, you’re forced to get see a charismatic yet clearly suspicious man. Both are clearly traps. Your ronin can express their misgivings but they’re either ignored or laughed off. And, of course, both characters backstab you! Who could have guessed? Certainly not me!

:right_arrow: Jun/ko is a divisive figure, for sure. They’re a straight up yandere and your ex. Objectively, they stab you, threaten a child at swordpoint, brand you, gladly kill people, call you affectionate names, and assume you “belong to them.” They’re an interesting character narratively, for sure. But no matter your choice, they will always be in love with you. Your ronin will always think about this, usually with some lust or attraction.

:red_square: Anime-ish writing. Book 1 already had into familiar anime conventions; Book 2 leans into it harder. There’s a lot more exaggerated emotions. Characters cry, scream, blush, or faint at the drop of a hat. There’s also some love confessions out of nowhere, slapstick humor, and dramatic “woe is me” monologues. It’s over-the-top, but that’s very much part of the charm. Usually.

:red_square: There’s not a lot that actually happens? Plot wise, I mean. It’s a slow build up, focussing on the characters and the relationships you have with them, as well as setting the groundwork for the start of the next book. It’s internally focussed, which I like, but technically, you’re still in the same place as Book 1. I think I’m a bit soured because the book ends on another cliffhanger.

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Oh boy, just you wait. I feel like Jun/ko is one of those rare characters who gets extreme love, and hatred from readers. I don’t think I’ve seen many people who just feel… neutral about them. It’s usually one of the two extremes in my experience.

That said, it’s been awhile since I read the books. But, I really enjoyed Junko as a character. I can’t remember if it’s the second or third book that pushed me onto the whole… I wanna see where it goes if you consistently choose them and want to help them.

I’m going to put this into spoilers since it’s off my memory and I can’t remember which book it is.

I remember you get ask about something near the end of the Book. I forget what the options are, but you can ask about Jun/ko. The truth you get for doing this kinda… it fully pushed me into the “Oh fuck, I need to try and fix this and help them.”

It put a lot into perspective for me about why they are the way they are, or at least a big part of it. And I kind of understood it a bit more? It’s really hard for me to try and explain. I’m not good at putting my thoughts into words lmao.

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I’m definitely intrigued by them so far. I’m a bit skeptical due to how forced they are, but I don’t think I’ve read a yandere type in IF before. I’m glad to hear you liked them though! If they’re too crazy, I honestly might just get bored LOL. Where’s the character development, what are they hiding? What’s their deal? I’m suspicious, but I’m trying to come in with an open mind.

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Book four is the real meat when it comes to that!

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Coincidentally, book 4 is where I said to myself “You have no more power over me, sunk cost fallacy!” and tossed it away.

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