Experimental

Interactive Storytelling is a tough nut to crack, so the rule there is keep your experiments to rapid prototypes. Some have spent years building monolithic engines, complete with editor and web-service, before providing playable demonstrations of a particular algorithm, and god bless them. Den Benmergui has done with his Storyteller experiment.

In games, "dying" has no external consequence. You simply place the pieces on the board again or hit the reset button, and you get another chance. As we've often been told by our parents, "winning or losing doesn't matter, as long as you have fun." So when does dying actually matter in games? Some might argue that death can matter the most in multiplayer games, where the death of a player leaves resources or possibilities for the players still fighting (e.g., in Civilization two players who ally to defeat a third might then have to fight each other).

But when does death within a game have consequences outside of the game?
Jesse Venbrux (who also made Karoshi and Frozzd), has come up with a way that a player's death will mean something outside of the game you play.

Insert pun on "progress" and "paradox".

State rhetoric question about loving numbers. Proclaim Progress Quest as the game for readers. Describe today's subject has perfect gameplay. Mention perfect controls. Mention zero loading times. Mention intuitive interface. Mention lack of bugs. Mention balanced classes. Mention ability to play on weaker computers. Mention addictive nature.

(It's highly advised to play the game before reading this article)

All right, let's be honest. The La La Land games do not make much sense. But that's what makes them so much fun.

This time, Biggt starts off being confronted with a heavily-pixelated large sprite that proclaims "ia m a poor fishhead in need of money. it's okay to steal from the rich cos they have lots to spare!" And thus, you travel through the rich people's home and take from a pile of gold, handful by handful, until the fish-head has enough to buy a necklace. Meanwhile, a song dedicated to the beautiful people of earth looms over Biggt’s deeds (with lyrics that go: “an ecology song that is for hearts that care, protect, conserve, love and share”). Upon returning to the rich, who are now dead, the game rhetorically asks "without money how were the nobles to survive?".

What's the best way to express one's angsty, teenage feelings these
days? Many would pick up a guitar and write a pop song. Others might
set about writing a self-indulgent autobiographical novel. This Singaporean lad bared his soul to the world by making a game, and that
very fact immediately raises him high in my estimation.

The game in question –- QRP -– is a charming way to spend five minutes. The designer intended it to express how he felt about girls when he was in school, and indeed I do feel that I achieved a fairly good understanding of how he felt about them by playing this game.

La La Land is a series of surrealist platformers by TheAnemic, and La La Land 5 is probably the clearest expression in a series that was probably never meant to be clear. You play Biggt, who now looks like the bat-boy dressing up as David Lynch; you run around with the left and right, up to jump, and down to throw bibles. You see, you're a Bible Salesman(tm) and you're out hustling your wares on pink fish that go to sleep when you toss them long-bound tomes like axes from Castlevania. Did I mention how fucking genuis this is?

Go play it now, then come back and reflect with me. (Spoilers after the break.)