Those old Sierra adventure games were great because you could play them over and over, memorizing all the tricks and turns, until you could navigate the story perfectly. No awkward pauses, no action plateaus. Just a perfectly interactive story that ended well for everyone. Except the bad guys. In that game, I think the evil fairy was turned into a baby at the end. So she could have a second chance. Or so that everyone around her could.
You can help us. Only you have the strength, the intelligence, the stamina to save us. We have a local spider problem. Please take care of the spiders for us. Yes, we are stronger, but it is better if you take care of our local spider problem.
Everything will try to kill you, incessantly. Don’t be scared.
I’m not scared.
I don’t even know what scared means.
His flopping mage hat, his long blue coat, and that strange abysslike opacity to his skin. Everyone kept their distance and I think that’s why he wasn’t using his magic to help dig through the rubble or build.
He couldn’t say what had started it. The still openness between the walls and the floor and his body? The howls from the Antarctic wind outside? The knowledge that his heart was the only human one beating more than a hundred kilometers out?
We think video games are literature, and so why shouldn't there be literature about video games? That's the question we're hoping to answer here. Read more.
