394 Reviews liked by Cold_Comfort


If there's anything out there, it's not going to be something we understand. We already have enough trouble at home defining ourselves, constantly pushed and pulled by gravitational forces we can't free ourselves from. A society crafted around making sure our culture is rigidly defined so that we can understand ourselves for what is human. But what is humanity, really? We keep pushing the ceiling of what that can be, and we project what is "alien" on things that are certainly human-like, because we have nothing else to draw from.

These are esoteric and difficult questions to answer, and even harder to do so when we're still stuck here shifting through our job yearning to free ourselves. Heaven Will Be Mine is queer, in every sense of the word. Queer in that it breaks me from my shell, liberating me and driving me to tears as it helps me understand my own way of expression and why I refuse to be circumvented by this "gravity." Queer in that it breaks between the line of reality to understand what seems strange, and help us transcend the grounded narratives we spin to keep us center. It's deeply personal too, with characters that each deal with their own traumas and flimsily work to try to understand each other in relationships that draw between romantic, heartfelt, and deeply serious.

For hours after I finished the route of Saturn I was in tears, and the route itself took me more time than it should've because I had to take a break to sit there in silence. I had to wrestle with phantoms of if I truly felt liberated, or if I really have grown out of the cage and pull of culture that people craft for me so that I may live. Am I really living my life here?

The discordant thoughts cross around for a while, and Pluto brings me back to center.
Saturn: "And you'd like that, right? Cutting loose with no gravity to tie you down?"
Pluto: "I think about that every day. It's so tempting.
You've got to be ginger with the universe, you know, Saturn.
Now that you're this strong, you've got to be careful. So much can go wrong."
Saturn: "I'll make sure to be very careful with the universe you love."

In another excerpt, Mercury asks "That's just it. Are we too attached? I want to be something new, and share it with everyone. Am I too heavy for this apple?"

The reading is dense, and it might not have to be. But it enraptures me and brings me close. I feel lost and I'm being given the proper guide to truly learn, even if I have to take every paragraph at a time, slowly. I'm shivering by the ending as I feel like I'm reaching a true understanding of why I'm queer, why I identify in the way I do. Why I WANT to live in the way I CHOOSE.

Saturn: "I don't owe them anything but, there's one more thing I can't stand.
Not being seen for what I am.
So, choose to come with us, or choose to stay.
But I won't be happy without them knowing what they're missing out on.
Look up in the sky, and see all the weird stuff we get to do with each other!"

And then I ascend, too.

This is what coming out to your father about being nonbinary feels like

This review contains spoilers

This is going to be a bit of a rant, maybe more than FC deserves. It's difficult for me to do otherwise though, considering the cultural recognition Trails in the Sky now has in its diehard Falcom community. Really it's just unavoidable now, as any conversation I could have about Trails in the Sky will inadvertently be tied back to the reverent fanbase. I don't think that's what the general public who play this game will experience, but when you're about as online as I am, it won't come as a surprise that a lot of what I COULD'VE talked about when it came to this game was quickly dismissed.

I don't hold that against the people who love this series, but it was very interesting to me when I came out the end of this game quite positive after the first runthrough. Specifically that any and all talk I could make about the specifics of this game were weirdly shouted down as "this game is just setup for the entire series and it should not be judged without that retrospection in mind." So you know what, I kept my mouth shut. It's not a terrible enough point to consider, even though I thought then as I do now that it's certainly a weak excuse. So I kept going, I went ahead and immersed myself in a fat load of Trails discourse and ended up surrounded by it, being spoiled on several things before I even thought to finally pick up SC. I may not be an expert on Trails in the Sky at this point, but I do feel a lot more informed about the series and FC's place in it as a whole. And it is sorely not the conclusion I think those people really hoped I would come to.

FC is not just a setup of Trails in the Sky's series narrative that leads to interesting payoff, it is a setup of Trails in the Sky's criminal flaws and trends. It's literally a walking simulacra of what the series stands for in its biggest moments, from its biggest positives to its awful issues. I'll start on what I still reminisce fondly, which is FC's sense of character. After a pretty dogshit poorly paced intro, there's more moments than I can effectively count where the cast of FC ends up bouncing in my head with their sense of heart and strong humanization. Dialogue is very reflective and strongly well written for each of their characters, and it all contributes to comfy vibes that define the midgame, which I'd say is where FC certainly peaks. Worldbuilding is no slouch to get you into the setting either, with a pretty grounded dialogue and well setup stakes for adventure that feel refreshing. The story keeps that idea in mind, which makes the endgame feel rather deserved even when the stakes are still pretty fate of the nation-heavy.

The story, however, is also when the cracks really start to show. FC is really quick to show its hand that a lot of the characters it puts at you are effectively tools, motivations that are nice setting dressing but completely thrown out when it's suitable. To make it clearer what I'm talking about, FC establishes a villain who is fighting for a past idea of his nation in absence of someone he respected. They then literally, and I cannot stress this enough, throw this out that his motivations and his choices were brainwashed by some other guy we don't fucking know at all from the get go. Even if I were to pretend that didn't happen, FC really does not explore this theme much if at all, or this backstory to an even genuinely sympathetic level.

This is the clinching issue with Trails stories, the setup politics that points at interesting themes are wallpaper, torn asunder right in front of you at every turn you could get. The villain I quote here is really not the first time that the inner themes of a nation you visit are hamstrung for a big bad that is neither emblematic of the themes to be a good metaphor or interesting in their own right. There's even more stuff I can get ranting about, but talking about the ramifications of moral motivations and how quickly they are side-stepped was already a poor errand for me to rag on when this game pushes that incest is fine, actually.

The combat is about as disappointing, but has more to do with the base mechanics that Trails seems to care about rather than its potential. Early-midgame is a bit interesting initially, where the grid-like structure and the meter management of arts ends up forcing you to take encounters by the skin of the teeth while you're trying to figure out your strategy. Immediately after this, it falls apart as you begin to realize that Trails could not give less of a shit about the action economy it makes, never going beyond "lose a turn" or "gain a turn" in terms of time. Positioning, while sometimes tested with genuinely solid superbosses, also ends up turning into dominant strategies of doing the same thing ad nauseum. I highlight the endgame for this especially, where p much all enemy fights are weakly put a massive fucking AOE to encapsulate as much as you can, and then repeat. Were it not for the customization and good user experience for figuring out the combat systems on your own with solid feedback, I would say this combat is average.

And I'd like to say that my issues here are FC-only still, I really would. I really would like to believe the narrative that keeps getting wrapped in front of me that this is at worst just a middling setup that then gets into the real kino shit that is the series and fixes all of this crap. But no, it's not. Trails does get better at its strengths from here as it goes on. The character writing continues to be good, and gets great and even excellent often. The vibes do get stronger, especially in terms of the soundtrack that gets outright legendary. But the poor foundation in story, general thematic writing, and combat is what you see here on full display. It's so vastly the embodiment of Trails that it's stunning how much talk about the series now feels like gaslighting to me.

Trails in the Sky FC is not a good game, and though I still lean positively on it, I would not recommend it to most. Worth a try at least, if you can get past the awful pacing in the first arc or two and end up enjoying yourself a ton then you absolutely will love the rest of the series. Is it worth trudging through if you don't enjoy it superbly to get to the rest of the series? I'm still not really sure about that.

I don't generally like being vulnerable, publicly. Even my most personal write-ups tend to be at least a little bit structured to guide around pain points that I'd rather not disclose, boiling down thoughts to more readable ideas that I don't need to haunt me. I don't really have that luxury today.

My uncle died yesterday, and we were close enough to where today I woke up staring up at the ceiling regretful, toiling around in my own head with a fog of thoughts that even now still permeates. I went through the rest of the day so far trying desperately to act as if nothing happened, driving with FFXIV music blaring out the car speakers, taking care of responsibilities with the best smile I could feign. Then I got home, and loaded up this game again, drawn to it searching for comfort. After an hour I started rewatching cutscenes, reading things about the game again trying to reexperience the same feelings that brought me solace. The game's chock full of them after all, with a dying man sitting at the bench with you giving last thoughts on a world and life he knows has dealt him the worst hand, to a scummy kid who is envious of his brother and still is even after his death not realizing how much he's trying to fill that hole in his heart that's been left. An old couple welcomes me in with smiles on their faces as they continue to grieve, just my presence being enough to remind them of what once was, but still they look forward hopeful.

I'm crying again as I attach myself to these stand-ins for loss, those depressing but not lonesome stories that help me grieve on my own time. This aura permeates through the entire narrative, as characters not so much different from my feelings of today pull off the same images of trying to act like everything's ok, and even the most naive cocky individual of the party has to come to terms with a hospitalized lover who he now wishes more than ever that he could've spent just one more minute with. I wish I had more time too, the last memory of my uncle is going to be me moving around stuff in his house while he can barely move about his home, and then after helping when he offers me and another sibling to stay and watch a movie with him, I say that I have to go home as it's getting too dark to drive. I still don't know whether my leaving was out of apathy, or cowardice, and I don't know which is worse.

And this game rejects apathy, it pushes to understand these feelings I struggle with today, an ENTIRE cult founded to bring the fall of all is juxtaposed with a desire from those who have suffered the most to keep living. A disgusting choice is thrusted towards the player and what's best isn't to remain ignorant but it is to defy this fucking downfall. It's hopeful, in the end, not wallowing in sorrow, even when the ending is still painful.

Not to say that this is a perfect simulacrum of these discordant thoughts, the combat ensues listlessness even in this version that tries to right wrongs of the flawed original. You walk multiple floors fighting enemies on passable at best strategies thinking about how it'd be nice if we were back several minutes ago to feel feelings at a scene again. There's even what would become late Atlus's problematic bullshit with hots-for-teachers and terrible handlings of lgbt, and that only spreads more poison over time for me. It just makes me angry, bile held and punches I wish I could throw at something other than air.

But the game still very much speaks to me, just putting out these thoughts after every couple minutes of tears and thinking of what this MEANS to me, what it represents, what it is, is helpful. I don't know if I can entirely recommend, or hope that the same will stand true for most individuals, not that it matters I guess. Please spend time with your loved ones if you can, I'm surely about to drive once more to be with family and mourn together while I still struggle not to fall myself.

Disco Elysium is a reminder. A painful one at that.

No, not a reminder of what we knew. It always comes in bouts, that stumbling around attempting to find meaning in the world that is painted in garish colors of conflict and ideologies that tear us apart, that harsh critique of what we are capable of as people. The ways our lives are completely connected in ways that drive us to the brink of despair, building towards a pale that rips at the edges of the world before the whole book cracks at the seams and turns the paper to shreds. No, that's nothing new.

That's something any cynical mindset could create really, even if they had the prose as excellent as this game did, or the character writing this painstakingly real. That's doable. What it really reminds me of, is our emotions, yknow that feeling thing. That helps us really understand each other at our core, is how we as people can live. Living with the loss, the many many many casualties not just personal but also in our own heads. Or as Disco Elysium really well puts it by the end after a long long conversation, "dealing with all this shit." At the end of the day, we're capable of understanding each other, and you don't need to drink yourself to the point of amnesia just so you can find the steps to get there.

That definitely sounds more verbose than a game which painfully relies too much on the odds of sentences landing with a roll of the dice may deserve, but this work was fucking profound to me. Compared to my earlier impressions, of which I really did look like the bumbling cop nihilistically walking away thinking all of it was worthless, I find myself hoping that everyone I know gets around to playing this.

Portable has a lesbian Mitsuru, so it's clearly the superior persona version.

Persona 5 Royal improves on Persona 5 in every way, unfortunately this way is so disconnected storywise that it almost acts as an entirely seperate experience to the main game, being thematically an almost condemnation of the main game's storyline due to how disjointed the two narratives are. However, it is a superior storyline in almost every way, discarding many of the awful villains employed before in favour of one that had some pathos and connection to the themes of the Persona series as a whole of the exploration of the self, rather than the exploration of society the original Persona 5 opted for.

Gameplay takes a simultaneous leap in interesting ideas and a large stumble in difficulty due to said ideas, the new systems at play all make an easy experience absolutely trivial, an example being Persona traits add a lot more customisation to personalising a Persona's playstyle and ability usage but it becomes apparent this system isn't balanced at all, like giving Alice the ability to make instant death spells cost no SP, resulting in Alice killing every encounter that doesn't have an immunity to death instantly and cancelling out most late game random encounters. Ultimately, Persona 5 Royal shines in what it doesn't share with it's predecessor, and what it does share looks even worse in comparison.

even if you get past the insidious and varied transmisogyny, the fact that the main character is a sexual predator and one of his close friends is The Pervert(tm), the infantilization of one of its female leads and the cardboard cutout tsundere archetype of the other one, the racism of having the only black men in the game be aggressive and violent thugs who do immoral things, the fact that this is a very loosely concealed harem game with a fast and loose interpretation of science and physics, the fact that the main character is braindead and cannot engage in basic rationalization to predict one of the most obvious plot twists in any video game ever...

even if you can get past all of that, this game is just fucking bad and sucks big shit lol

This is currently my favorite game of all time, so making this review was an inevitability, but I found it hard to word myself for the longest time. This entire review will most definitely contain elements of spoilers.

I would I guess, like to preface that it isn't perfect. Much of the known Genocide Route and Pacifist Route is a rough draft in terms of narrative design, pacing is kind of thrown to the road in both of them in terms of how events are revealed, specifically the tapes in the True Lab come to mind, or how it unceremoniously saves all of the genuine good storytelling in Genocide to the latter bits.

It's also quite limiting on a gameplay front, to an extent. I think the bullet hell combat is genuinely good, and by nature of how it's designed, better than most other rpgs. Dancing between bullet patterns as they combine on top of other enemies is a core part of any decent bullet hell philosophy, and seamlessly tying that to its rpg core and narrative is something to be praised and serves far more an execution test than most rpg's knowledge test design where ultimately optimal strategy is a once and done affair for most encounters. It is still limiting however, since only about 1/3 of the encounters actually make use of patterns building atop of each other, and the game saves its strongest bullet hell tests to the Genocide run, and the hard mode is literally an intentional joke.

That being said, and god that last paragraph wasn't even too negative, I'd say UNDERTALE is absolutely brilliant. It's the finest execution of the ensuing theme of "determination" I've ever seen in a work of art, surpassing general examples like Gurren Lagann by supplying its theme at an individual character level and wrapping it around an excellent metanarrative to boot (that you don't even have to be aware of to enjoy).

UNDERTALE works off clear character ideas, humanizing its characters around the world it sets up in extremely well written ways. Alphys is my leading example, which is weird that it's people's least favorite. She's built up as a stingy incredibly annoying type, a character who is increasingly irritating to deal with. She stops you at every point, wanting attention, to be something like the shows and remnants of otaku cultures she was able to consume. She ultimately gets betrayed by her own work, and ends up pushing back her own war crimes she's committed. She's not a justified person in what she's done, but she is sympathetic to understand. Her actions are communicated exceptionally for people to understand what kind of person she is, and the arc she gets is fitting and she learns what it really means to be determined and what she actually needs to do to be loved.

This reflects on every character not just her, and on top of this, is how flawed each of these characters are as people really works back to how honest they truly feel, and they’re all fleshed out personality wise to a point where tobyfox can publish them talking about whatever topic and I could hear their fonts come off the page and imagine them emoting in real time. They're very humanized people.

I'd also like to talk about how UNDERTALE ties its metanarrative elements well. The game in short, is a living breathing game world that operates on world mechanics riffed from a general audience understanding of how rpgs work, using a morality system that is defined on a character to character level rather than strict moral good/bad. You're allowed to kill in self defense, you're encouraged to be pacifist but the game doesn't vilify you for kills, it asks you to reflect on them. The monsters' world is as much a world to them as your own world is to you. And the only basis to understand them is to take them as living people where act of murder or self defense is a last resort. Especially when you yourself have the power to save and reload, so death is never truly an end for you, so death until you SPARE them is a legitimate option that only costs you time.

Even if you don't care for the meta elements, even if the characters aren't someone you jive with, even if the gameplay isn't particularly your own thing, it still has its own comedic writing to back on, and one of the best vidya soundtracks I've had the pleasure to listen to. It's also an excellently paced journey, gameplay and narrative-wise. But I would still be surprised personally, if there wasn't a single character or emotional moment that resonated with you.

I think UNDERTALE stands above all other games I've played in my lifetime so far, and it certainly has had a huge impact on my life going forward that I can't give it any less than my 10/10.

Albeit I played this game before multiplayer and horizontal orientation was a thing, but I still hate it.

How come Diddy Kong is a high tier even though his ability seriously hampers him? Why is Dr. Baby Golden Bowser Jr. a thing? How come I have to get gold pass for literally anything?

This is truly a great game, well designed, with a great story and gameplay. It's one of a kind.

Really charming game, but in the end, hampered by how limited it is in scope.

Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he's created here on earth?