Turns out the way to get me to play a roguelite deckbuilder is to make it a life sim where the runs are 5-8 hours long and the cards are tied to the narrative.
In I Was a Teenage Exocolonist, you play as the eponymous teenage exocolonist (who knew?), born on a colony ship bound for the planet "Vertumna". The ship lands when you are age 10 and the game continues until age 20. Each year has various bespoke narrative events and about a dozen "turns" where you can grow your stats and manage your relationships.
Notable narrative events award you a new card, the deck contextualized as your memories. Cards have suits (yellow for social, blue for mental, red for physical), a number value, and possibly an extra effect like "+1 during mental challenges". For skill checks, you draw a hand from your deck and try to beat the goal number with the card slots available. You get extra bonuses from pairs, straights, flushes, et cetera. If you puzzle out the highest possible value with your cards, you get a minor cash reward. If you can't hit the goal, you can take a stress penalty to push through anyway.
It's a solid gameplay loop that carried me through a couple runs before I eventually turned on Debug Mode to skip every card battle and tweak stats to my liking (humans are just human, yeah?). There's also an option to ignore the cards entirely and turn the challenges into straight stat checks, if you're into that.
Of course, I wouldn't have cared about the cards and deckbuilding if not for the narrative context in which they exist. But the writing is... uh. Well. It doesn't really jive with my personal tastes, but I think it would for a lot of people. Another review (positively) describes the game as "queer socialist propaganda", and I can't really disagree with that assessment. I appreciate the game's politics, but not its aesthetic.
The colony is some kind of anti-capitalist, communal child-care, anti-cultural, vegetarian collective. You can change your name, appearance, and pronouns at any time along a spectrum of female-presenting to male-presenting. There are multiple romanceable characters across the LGBTQ+ spectrum and the game lets you date any of them, though that doesn't mean the relationship will always work out. It's better than I expected from a game that puts "you can date a dog-boy" on its Steam page, at least.
This is also a time loop story, which helps contextualize multiple playthroughs and allows you to pick options on later runs that help optimize your new life (a unique narrative strength of video games as a medium that has been insidiously co-opted by the isekai genre). For example, instead of spending several months figuring out a solution to an impending famine, you can guide characters directly to a solution you figured out last time, saving lives and giving you more time to spend patrolling the walls or repairing robots. Figure out someone's likes and dislikes, and those will stay in their character window in the next run.
But with one foot firmly embedded in the Twee Zone, Exocolonist could headline a Wholesome Direct (derogatory). Your menu doesn't have an Achievements section, it has a "Cheevos" section. Vertumna is cast entirely in pastel blues, pinks, and yellows; populated by aliens like "floatcows" and "unisaurs". Every character has a cutesy hippy name that's shortened from a longer word, so you're hanging out with Marz (Marzipan), Kom (Kombucha), Tonin (Melatonin), Seeq (Obsequious), et cetera. The fictional space sport is literally called "sportsball". Un-fucking-bearable.
The game advertises a large number of endings, but it's more of an Obsidian-style modular ending slides thing. Depending on what jobs you picked most often and the status of your relationships, you get some paragraphs about how they all turned out. I played enough to get three different job-related endings and most of the bespoke endings that require more specific sequences of events, and my Steam runtime is listed at about 35 hours. Though, as noted, this was with me using Debug Mode to speed up later runs considerably.
Despite my issues, I'd say enjoyed my time with Exocolonist. While I'd love to see its broad structure applied to an aesthetic I find more personally appealing, its (relative) simplicity compared to the big RPGs I usually play starts the creative gears turning in my head. Whether it's actually realistic or not, games like this and Citizen Sleeper make me wonder if this is something I could do one day, as late a start as it might be.
A thought for another day, perhaps.
In I Was a Teenage Exocolonist, you play as the eponymous teenage exocolonist (who knew?), born on a colony ship bound for the planet "Vertumna". The ship lands when you are age 10 and the game continues until age 20. Each year has various bespoke narrative events and about a dozen "turns" where you can grow your stats and manage your relationships.
Notable narrative events award you a new card, the deck contextualized as your memories. Cards have suits (yellow for social, blue for mental, red for physical), a number value, and possibly an extra effect like "+1 during mental challenges". For skill checks, you draw a hand from your deck and try to beat the goal number with the card slots available. You get extra bonuses from pairs, straights, flushes, et cetera. If you puzzle out the highest possible value with your cards, you get a minor cash reward. If you can't hit the goal, you can take a stress penalty to push through anyway.
It's a solid gameplay loop that carried me through a couple runs before I eventually turned on Debug Mode to skip every card battle and tweak stats to my liking (humans are just human, yeah?). There's also an option to ignore the cards entirely and turn the challenges into straight stat checks, if you're into that.
Of course, I wouldn't have cared about the cards and deckbuilding if not for the narrative context in which they exist. But the writing is... uh. Well. It doesn't really jive with my personal tastes, but I think it would for a lot of people. Another review (positively) describes the game as "queer socialist propaganda", and I can't really disagree with that assessment. I appreciate the game's politics, but not its aesthetic.
The colony is some kind of anti-capitalist, communal child-care, anti-cultural, vegetarian collective. You can change your name, appearance, and pronouns at any time along a spectrum of female-presenting to male-presenting. There are multiple romanceable characters across the LGBTQ+ spectrum and the game lets you date any of them, though that doesn't mean the relationship will always work out. It's better than I expected from a game that puts "you can date a dog-boy" on its Steam page, at least.
This is also a time loop story, which helps contextualize multiple playthroughs and allows you to pick options on later runs that help optimize your new life (a unique narrative strength of video games as a medium that has been insidiously co-opted by the isekai genre). For example, instead of spending several months figuring out a solution to an impending famine, you can guide characters directly to a solution you figured out last time, saving lives and giving you more time to spend patrolling the walls or repairing robots. Figure out someone's likes and dislikes, and those will stay in their character window in the next run.
But with one foot firmly embedded in the Twee Zone, Exocolonist could headline a Wholesome Direct (derogatory). Your menu doesn't have an Achievements section, it has a "Cheevos" section. Vertumna is cast entirely in pastel blues, pinks, and yellows; populated by aliens like "floatcows" and "unisaurs". Every character has a cutesy hippy name that's shortened from a longer word, so you're hanging out with Marz (Marzipan), Kom (Kombucha), Tonin (Melatonin), Seeq (Obsequious), et cetera. The fictional space sport is literally called "sportsball". Un-fucking-bearable.
The game advertises a large number of endings, but it's more of an Obsidian-style modular ending slides thing. Depending on what jobs you picked most often and the status of your relationships, you get some paragraphs about how they all turned out. I played enough to get three different job-related endings and most of the bespoke endings that require more specific sequences of events, and my Steam runtime is listed at about 35 hours. Though, as noted, this was with me using Debug Mode to speed up later runs considerably.
Despite my issues, I'd say enjoyed my time with Exocolonist. While I'd love to see its broad structure applied to an aesthetic I find more personally appealing, its (relative) simplicity compared to the big RPGs I usually play starts the creative gears turning in my head. Whether it's actually realistic or not, games like this and Citizen Sleeper make me wonder if this is something I could do one day, as late a start as it might be.
A thought for another day, perhaps.