Delicious FruitYaBoiMarcAntony's Profile
Send a PMJoined on: Apr 26, 2020
Bio:
I used to be here four years ago but I left. I was Guitarsage2k/Parallax5.
These fangames mean a lot to me (attempt at order)
1. I Wanna Kill the Kermit 3
2. I Wanna Walk Out in the Morning Dew
3. I Wanna Be the Volatile Presence: Stagnant Edition
4. Crimson Needle 3
5. I Wanna Kill the Kermit 2
6. I Wanna Figure
7. Phonotransmitter
8. VoVoVo
9. I Wanna Reach the Moon
10. untitled needle game
11. I Wanna Burnmind
12. Domu
13. I Want To Meet Miki
14. I Wanna Go Across the Rainbow
15. Alphazetica
16. I Wanna Stop the Simulation
17. I Wanna Hydrate
18. I Wanna Be the Ocean Princess
19. I Wanna Vibe with the Gods
20. I Wanna Be the Vandal
21. I Wanna Pray to the Platform God
22. I Want
23. I Wanna Pointillism
24. I Wanna Be Far From Home
25. I Wanna Be the RO
I've submitted:
275 Ratings!
236 Reviews!
5 Screenshots!
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275 Games
236 Reviews
YaBoiMarcAntony
For: You give me butterflies, and I take them away
For: You give me butterflies, and I take them away
(Fair warning, there will be spoilers ahead, but I don't think much of anything I will talk about can be discussed without mentioning aspects of the game, so I'd rather not put spoiler tags all over the place. Therefore, just play the game. It's well worth your time and won't take much of said time.)
I find it a bit difficult to put my thoughts into words regarding this game precisely because of that which makes it so excellent - the personal nature, the meanings behind the game, its very essence makes it a tricky game to tackle in the way of description. I don't want to offend the creator, nor do I want to misconstrue their purposes behind the game. The only way I can tackle this is by sticking to the age-old adage: the player's interpretation is king, insofar as they're concerned. My interpretation is no more correct or incorrect than any other, and the meanings which the creator put into their game are evident and genuine, but I'll only worry about the aspects which resonated with me personally.
First and foremost, the easiest discussion to broach is gameplay: The game is quite short, understandably, and it's all gimmick-based. It opens with a shiny, happy stroll that quickly goes awry in an Eversion-like transition. Once that happens, there are three screens of gameplay and they're all excellent, my favorite being the final platform gimmick. I won't discuss them at length, but they're all executed excellently and never outstay their welcome - in fact, some are too quickly gone for their own good. This is all in relation to how it feels to play these screens, mind you. There's really not much to say in this respect given that it plays second fiddle to the true core of the game.
I cannot speak in concrete terms what this game means because that ruins the essence of it. I can only speak to my personal interpretations. I don't suffer from severe depression, nor any other mental issues that I know of, but I am rather acquainted with sadness and the various emotions Give Me Butterflies deals with, as is our wont as humans. We cannot escape these terrible emotions, merely learn to live with them, and that is what this game feels like to me: the journey towards coming to grip with these emotions.
The first screen doesn't feel terribly depressing or melancholy, but there is a special sort of pain to it. The basis is that you're given seven blocks that spin and some will produce a spike from its top every now and then. It's random which one has a spike, but the top of the screen informs you before the spikes show themselves. The rub here is that you're given an ice-based, momentum driven movement system, meaning it's nigh impossible to keep yourself in one place and changing blocks is a task in and of itself. It was the hardest screen for me, and I did get a little irritated with it. I found myself hoping I'd get lucky and just always be on the safe platform, but it rarely worked out that way. Instead, I would notice my block is dangerous, scramble to find a new one, and then either choose wrong because I didn't notice the block of choice was dangerous, or I'd miss altogether and fall to my death. In that way, this screen was especially malicious, never feeling like it was trying to come to an agreement with you; instead, it wanted nothing to do with you and didn't care whether you lived or died. Nonetheless, I forged on, eventually tackling this screen and feeling good about it.
The next screen was the easiest, being an avoidance with a gimmick similar to that of the rocket carnival screen from Morning Dew (an obvious inspiration, so obvious I won't discuss further). You have an aura around you that you want to touch the oncoming fruit with, and touching said fruit will give you points that build up the more you touch without getting hit yourself. You can also change the size of your aura from large to small if you want to get an absurd amount of points, but it's of course harder. Here, the pain changes a little. Instead of coming to terms with the danger and pain around you, you're in a place where you have to get close to that, risk yourself just so you can get through. The riskier you play, the better your points, but there's always the danger of fumbling and seeing all of your progress going away. No matter, though, I found this to be the easiest screen in the game (and I hope that doesn't say anything about me).
The final screen is, naturally, the most striking. There are 36 razors that act as sideways platforms and you are expected to use them all at least once. There are fruit which come out from the side and using a razor makes some fruit shoot from the middle as well. As an added bonus, you have ghosts following you that solidify and will kill you should you be there when they're solid, though they soon go away after said solidification. Here, I think interpretation is easiest: pain as a way to get ahead. You're given no choice but to hurt yourself just to move forward, just so you can get ahead; yet, once you beat the screen, you'll find it was all for naught.
The game ends with a simple poem and then closes itself abruptly. I won't describe the poem as I don't think it necessary, but it's clear what meaning it serves.
So, what do each of these screens come together to actually mean? I said it was a journey towards coming to terms with sadness and pain, but that's not really true. Those are aspects, yes, but it's not a journey with a pleasant end. In a sense, it depicts the meaninglessness of striving towards even just getting up in the morning. What's the point in doing anything to make yourself feel okay or to get through the day when it all ends up the same? The butterflies die all the same, no matter how much you cry and try to save them, so why waste your energy doing so?
I am at a point in my life where I just don't care to better myself. I don't have the energy to become a better person or to do all the things I want so as to improve my life. There are so many ways I can be happy, but I just don't care to go about putting those ways into play. I simply don't care enough about myself to do it. I live only for other people, but I can almost never really believe those other people well and truly care about me because if I don't care for myself, why would they? I've never hurt myself, and I've never seriously thought about suicide, but they're common topics in my head at times. In that respect, this game resonates with me deeply.
Yet, I move on nonetheless. Maybe I won't feel better tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or even in the next ten years, but I move on nonetheless because I don't really believe there's any other way for me to go. I feel there's no point, but I do it anyways because others see the point, and I trust them more than I do myself. And you know what? I want to do it. Something being pointless doesn't stop me from wanting it, that's the most human thing you can do. We fill our lives with pointless nonsense merely because we don't personally see it as pointless or not worth our time. Sometimes, we even do recognize it has no worth, but we go for it anyways. Now, though, I fear I'm getting away from the point.
Thus, Give Me Butterflies seems to me like it's asking you this question: why do you persist? What makes you go forward? When you knew there was no happy ending to your suffering, why suffer to begin with? I have my answer, and I'm sure the creator has their answer as well, but that's not important to the game. The question is the thing, and what a perfect way to ask.
[4] Likes
I find it a bit difficult to put my thoughts into words regarding this game precisely because of that which makes it so excellent - the personal nature, the meanings behind the game, its very essence makes it a tricky game to tackle in the way of description. I don't want to offend the creator, nor do I want to misconstrue their purposes behind the game. The only way I can tackle this is by sticking to the age-old adage: the player's interpretation is king, insofar as they're concerned. My interpretation is no more correct or incorrect than any other, and the meanings which the creator put into their game are evident and genuine, but I'll only worry about the aspects which resonated with me personally.
First and foremost, the easiest discussion to broach is gameplay: The game is quite short, understandably, and it's all gimmick-based. It opens with a shiny, happy stroll that quickly goes awry in an Eversion-like transition. Once that happens, there are three screens of gameplay and they're all excellent, my favorite being the final platform gimmick. I won't discuss them at length, but they're all executed excellently and never outstay their welcome - in fact, some are too quickly gone for their own good. This is all in relation to how it feels to play these screens, mind you. There's really not much to say in this respect given that it plays second fiddle to the true core of the game.
I cannot speak in concrete terms what this game means because that ruins the essence of it. I can only speak to my personal interpretations. I don't suffer from severe depression, nor any other mental issues that I know of, but I am rather acquainted with sadness and the various emotions Give Me Butterflies deals with, as is our wont as humans. We cannot escape these terrible emotions, merely learn to live with them, and that is what this game feels like to me: the journey towards coming to grip with these emotions.
The first screen doesn't feel terribly depressing or melancholy, but there is a special sort of pain to it. The basis is that you're given seven blocks that spin and some will produce a spike from its top every now and then. It's random which one has a spike, but the top of the screen informs you before the spikes show themselves. The rub here is that you're given an ice-based, momentum driven movement system, meaning it's nigh impossible to keep yourself in one place and changing blocks is a task in and of itself. It was the hardest screen for me, and I did get a little irritated with it. I found myself hoping I'd get lucky and just always be on the safe platform, but it rarely worked out that way. Instead, I would notice my block is dangerous, scramble to find a new one, and then either choose wrong because I didn't notice the block of choice was dangerous, or I'd miss altogether and fall to my death. In that way, this screen was especially malicious, never feeling like it was trying to come to an agreement with you; instead, it wanted nothing to do with you and didn't care whether you lived or died. Nonetheless, I forged on, eventually tackling this screen and feeling good about it.
The next screen was the easiest, being an avoidance with a gimmick similar to that of the rocket carnival screen from Morning Dew (an obvious inspiration, so obvious I won't discuss further). You have an aura around you that you want to touch the oncoming fruit with, and touching said fruit will give you points that build up the more you touch without getting hit yourself. You can also change the size of your aura from large to small if you want to get an absurd amount of points, but it's of course harder. Here, the pain changes a little. Instead of coming to terms with the danger and pain around you, you're in a place where you have to get close to that, risk yourself just so you can get through. The riskier you play, the better your points, but there's always the danger of fumbling and seeing all of your progress going away. No matter, though, I found this to be the easiest screen in the game (and I hope that doesn't say anything about me).
The final screen is, naturally, the most striking. There are 36 razors that act as sideways platforms and you are expected to use them all at least once. There are fruit which come out from the side and using a razor makes some fruit shoot from the middle as well. As an added bonus, you have ghosts following you that solidify and will kill you should you be there when they're solid, though they soon go away after said solidification. Here, I think interpretation is easiest: pain as a way to get ahead. You're given no choice but to hurt yourself just to move forward, just so you can get ahead; yet, once you beat the screen, you'll find it was all for naught.
The game ends with a simple poem and then closes itself abruptly. I won't describe the poem as I don't think it necessary, but it's clear what meaning it serves.
So, what do each of these screens come together to actually mean? I said it was a journey towards coming to terms with sadness and pain, but that's not really true. Those are aspects, yes, but it's not a journey with a pleasant end. In a sense, it depicts the meaninglessness of striving towards even just getting up in the morning. What's the point in doing anything to make yourself feel okay or to get through the day when it all ends up the same? The butterflies die all the same, no matter how much you cry and try to save them, so why waste your energy doing so?
I am at a point in my life where I just don't care to better myself. I don't have the energy to become a better person or to do all the things I want so as to improve my life. There are so many ways I can be happy, but I just don't care to go about putting those ways into play. I simply don't care enough about myself to do it. I live only for other people, but I can almost never really believe those other people well and truly care about me because if I don't care for myself, why would they? I've never hurt myself, and I've never seriously thought about suicide, but they're common topics in my head at times. In that respect, this game resonates with me deeply.
Yet, I move on nonetheless. Maybe I won't feel better tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or even in the next ten years, but I move on nonetheless because I don't really believe there's any other way for me to go. I feel there's no point, but I do it anyways because others see the point, and I trust them more than I do myself. And you know what? I want to do it. Something being pointless doesn't stop me from wanting it, that's the most human thing you can do. We fill our lives with pointless nonsense merely because we don't personally see it as pointless or not worth our time. Sometimes, we even do recognize it has no worth, but we go for it anyways. Now, though, I fear I'm getting away from the point.
Thus, Give Me Butterflies seems to me like it's asking you this question: why do you persist? What makes you go forward? When you knew there was no happy ending to your suffering, why suffer to begin with? I have my answer, and I'm sure the creator has their answer as well, but that's not important to the game. The question is the thing, and what a perfect way to ask.
Rating: 9.0 90
Difficulty: 55 55
Oct 16, 2020
YaBoiMarcAntony
For: I wanna Fall into Depression and never be Happy Again
For: I wanna Fall into Depression and never be Happy Again
This really is quite a good game, so good that it seems like it had the opportunity to be something truly excellent. It honestly still is excellent, so what am I saying? Opportunity wasted? Who cares! This is still a great game whether or not it could have been better.
The game is broken up into three stages: the warm-up stage, and then two warps. The right warp is, as it says in-game, the hardest of the bunch, but only in the last two saves. Otherwise, everything is pretty well balanced and consistently challenging. There's no hugely innovative or unique screens, but it's all such fun and well-made that I can't help but love it anyways. The visuals are superb, the music choices splendiferous, and the gameplay is, as you can gather, supremely good.
It's a short game and not one that will change the face of fangaming forever, but it's still a damn good game that is well worth your time. Give this a go, damn you!
[0] Likes
The game is broken up into three stages: the warm-up stage, and then two warps. The right warp is, as it says in-game, the hardest of the bunch, but only in the last two saves. Otherwise, everything is pretty well balanced and consistently challenging. There's no hugely innovative or unique screens, but it's all such fun and well-made that I can't help but love it anyways. The visuals are superb, the music choices splendiferous, and the gameplay is, as you can gather, supremely good.
It's a short game and not one that will change the face of fangaming forever, but it's still a damn good game that is well worth your time. Give this a go, damn you!
Rating: 8.0 80
Difficulty: 67 67
Oct 16, 2020
YaBoiMarcAntony
For: I wanna Walk Out In The Morning Dew
For: I wanna Walk Out In The Morning Dew
(Note: This will be a highly sentimental review, a lot of which won't concretely tell you why you should play this game, but instead why this game means the world to me. This is also a fantastically long review, and for that I have no apologies. Read if you like, ignore if you want)
My mother passed away at the beginning of this year. I was lost and had no idea what to do, no direction, nothing. I wanted more than anything to run away from this life, to be anywhere but here, anyone but myself, to go back in time to a place where I felt better, where I had my mother and was okay. In that way, I suppose I did anything I could to re-kindle the good old days in my heart and mind. I hadn't touched fangames for four years for various reasons, but I spent a lot of my younger years being apart of this community. I made a lot of great memories and had a lot of fun, but one day I just dropped it and didn't return for a long time. That is, until some time in February or March. I don't know what compelled me, but I found myself looking around delfruit, seeing if this community was still alive. Eventually, I found the discord channel and learned that the fangaming community was more than just alive, it was thriving. Doing better than perhaps it ever has. I asked about to figure out what I missed, and I learned about a couple games, none coming up more than... Crimson Needle 3.
Yeah, it's not that poetic. This wasn't the first game I played to welcome myself back into fangames. The first game I played was actually I Wanna be the Vandal, and that was the first game I cleared as well. Incredible game, for sure, one of the best ever made, but that's not what I'm here to discuss. I'm here to talk about Morning Dew. I didn't know anything about it, that it was hyped or who was making it or that it was even going to exist. I just saw it here one day and downloaded it, not knowing what was in store for me. I didn't play for long, though. I got stuck on the screen with moving jump refreshers and moving water and then gave it up. A little bit of time passes and I start watching streams of it, I start hearing discussion about the game, and this one phrase comes up often: "artistic vision." A great deal has been said about that, so I won't defend at length its implementation here, but I'll say that this is what made me want to come back to Morning Dew, all this hub-bub surrounding it. So, I started it up again, and thus began my long, long journey towards today.
It was a slow and difficult peregrination, one that I often felt was too much for me. I would hit stages and think "how will I ever clear this," and then leave the game alone for a few weeks. I would always come back to it, though. Whether it was the minesweeper stage, the ice physics stage, the rocket stage, or fence-jumping, something always made me want to come back no matter how long I hadn't played Morning Dew for. And no matter what, I would always overcome whatever obstacle held me back. It would take forever, I would become hopeless and think that this was it for me, but I would always get through to the next stage. I found myself beating screens that I would never have been able to tackle just months before, clearing whole stages that would have taken me hours and hours in just one hour.
Throughout all my time playing Morning Dew, there was a common thought in my head. Morning Dew feels like a real, living world, a foreign place that has no care for you, wanting not to do you harm nor help you explore its many different lands. There is no malice or kindness here, merely a distinct disregard for you. Despite that, Morning Dew is a vibrant and lively game, one that is totally unique. It has its inspirations, sure, but they feel fresh and special here. There is, genuinely, nothing like Morning Dew, nothing at all that reaches the same heights, nothing that matches its originality. I loved exploring this alien world more than anything I've ever done in games. I didn't mind that there was no welcoming aspect, that Morning Dew would just as soon see me never touch it than play through it dozens of times. I didn't mind because that made it feel honest, not like a game but instead a step into the mind of a creator.
To step into the mind of another human is something that only art allows. That form of pure escapism that allows you to live within the thoughts and emotion of another is totally unique to art. When I listen to my favorite song, I step into another world and everything that hurts simply ceases to exist. Fangames, though a lot of fun, rarely capture my attention in such a way. They do allow me to blow off steam, but almost never do they take my mind off what ails me. In fact, most games in general don't do this, not for long. It is a truly special occasion that I am fully enraptured by a game for hours on end, that I can go an entire day without once remembering why it is I want to escape. Morning Dew did this for me.
I don't believe you should run away from your problems forever, but that people create these little escapes means the world to me. This game wasn't just created for me, no. I imagine the only one he made the game for was himself; yet, this utterly personal game managed to hit me in a way that no other game has. Somehow, MorningDew feels like a deeply private conversation between some other person and I about nothing at all. I'm sure you've had one of those talks, one that manages to be both personal and yet totally general, lasting for hours and going on into the night. Perhaps you're discussing your life and all that's happened, but it doesn't feel like you're complaining or trying to blow off steam, but that it's just a mere discussion of your and their life. These discussions exist outside of life, outside of time and all that ages you, but you can still see into it and remember what hurts without being affected.
It is a bit contradictory to describe the game as such, I'll admit. How can a world feel foreign and as if it doesn't care for you, but then feel like the sort of conversation that you only have a couple times in your life? Truth is, I don't really know. I don't know how to rationalize these two beliefs, but I stand by both of them. I feel as if they are both the truth whether or not they go against each other.
In short, I love this game. I think it is perfect in every way. The soundtrack, the visuals, the gameplay, the very way in which it is laid out, there is not a thing wrong with Morning Dew. If you think you want to play it, go for it, and if you don't want to, feel free to completely ignore this game. I don't think everyone should play it because it's not for everyone and that's okay. This journey was special to me and I don't think anyone else will experience it in just the way I did and I don't care about that because it was MY journey. I am glad I was able to get some escape from my life with Morning Dew. It didn't make my problems go away, nor did it give me new insight into them, but it allowed me a break from them, and that's all I asked for.
[20] Likes
My mother passed away at the beginning of this year. I was lost and had no idea what to do, no direction, nothing. I wanted more than anything to run away from this life, to be anywhere but here, anyone but myself, to go back in time to a place where I felt better, where I had my mother and was okay. In that way, I suppose I did anything I could to re-kindle the good old days in my heart and mind. I hadn't touched fangames for four years for various reasons, but I spent a lot of my younger years being apart of this community. I made a lot of great memories and had a lot of fun, but one day I just dropped it and didn't return for a long time. That is, until some time in February or March. I don't know what compelled me, but I found myself looking around delfruit, seeing if this community was still alive. Eventually, I found the discord channel and learned that the fangaming community was more than just alive, it was thriving. Doing better than perhaps it ever has. I asked about to figure out what I missed, and I learned about a couple games, none coming up more than... Crimson Needle 3.
Yeah, it's not that poetic. This wasn't the first game I played to welcome myself back into fangames. The first game I played was actually I Wanna be the Vandal, and that was the first game I cleared as well. Incredible game, for sure, one of the best ever made, but that's not what I'm here to discuss. I'm here to talk about Morning Dew. I didn't know anything about it, that it was hyped or who was making it or that it was even going to exist. I just saw it here one day and downloaded it, not knowing what was in store for me. I didn't play for long, though. I got stuck on the screen with moving jump refreshers and moving water and then gave it up. A little bit of time passes and I start watching streams of it, I start hearing discussion about the game, and this one phrase comes up often: "artistic vision." A great deal has been said about that, so I won't defend at length its implementation here, but I'll say that this is what made me want to come back to Morning Dew, all this hub-bub surrounding it. So, I started it up again, and thus began my long, long journey towards today.
It was a slow and difficult peregrination, one that I often felt was too much for me. I would hit stages and think "how will I ever clear this," and then leave the game alone for a few weeks. I would always come back to it, though. Whether it was the minesweeper stage, the ice physics stage, the rocket stage, or fence-jumping, something always made me want to come back no matter how long I hadn't played Morning Dew for. And no matter what, I would always overcome whatever obstacle held me back. It would take forever, I would become hopeless and think that this was it for me, but I would always get through to the next stage. I found myself beating screens that I would never have been able to tackle just months before, clearing whole stages that would have taken me hours and hours in just one hour.
Throughout all my time playing Morning Dew, there was a common thought in my head. Morning Dew feels like a real, living world, a foreign place that has no care for you, wanting not to do you harm nor help you explore its many different lands. There is no malice or kindness here, merely a distinct disregard for you. Despite that, Morning Dew is a vibrant and lively game, one that is totally unique. It has its inspirations, sure, but they feel fresh and special here. There is, genuinely, nothing like Morning Dew, nothing at all that reaches the same heights, nothing that matches its originality. I loved exploring this alien world more than anything I've ever done in games. I didn't mind that there was no welcoming aspect, that Morning Dew would just as soon see me never touch it than play through it dozens of times. I didn't mind because that made it feel honest, not like a game but instead a step into the mind of a creator.
To step into the mind of another human is something that only art allows. That form of pure escapism that allows you to live within the thoughts and emotion of another is totally unique to art. When I listen to my favorite song, I step into another world and everything that hurts simply ceases to exist. Fangames, though a lot of fun, rarely capture my attention in such a way. They do allow me to blow off steam, but almost never do they take my mind off what ails me. In fact, most games in general don't do this, not for long. It is a truly special occasion that I am fully enraptured by a game for hours on end, that I can go an entire day without once remembering why it is I want to escape. Morning Dew did this for me.
I don't believe you should run away from your problems forever, but that people create these little escapes means the world to me. This game wasn't just created for me, no. I imagine the only one he made the game for was himself; yet, this utterly personal game managed to hit me in a way that no other game has. Somehow, MorningDew feels like a deeply private conversation between some other person and I about nothing at all. I'm sure you've had one of those talks, one that manages to be both personal and yet totally general, lasting for hours and going on into the night. Perhaps you're discussing your life and all that's happened, but it doesn't feel like you're complaining or trying to blow off steam, but that it's just a mere discussion of your and their life. These discussions exist outside of life, outside of time and all that ages you, but you can still see into it and remember what hurts without being affected.
It is a bit contradictory to describe the game as such, I'll admit. How can a world feel foreign and as if it doesn't care for you, but then feel like the sort of conversation that you only have a couple times in your life? Truth is, I don't really know. I don't know how to rationalize these two beliefs, but I stand by both of them. I feel as if they are both the truth whether or not they go against each other.
In short, I love this game. I think it is perfect in every way. The soundtrack, the visuals, the gameplay, the very way in which it is laid out, there is not a thing wrong with Morning Dew. If you think you want to play it, go for it, and if you don't want to, feel free to completely ignore this game. I don't think everyone should play it because it's not for everyone and that's okay. This journey was special to me and I don't think anyone else will experience it in just the way I did and I don't care about that because it was MY journey. I am glad I was able to get some escape from my life with Morning Dew. It didn't make my problems go away, nor did it give me new insight into them, but it allowed me a break from them, and that's all I asked for.
Rating: 10.0 100
Difficulty: 88 88
Oct 14, 2020
YaBoiMarcAntony
For: Phonotransmitter
For: Phonotransmitter
Phonotransmitter is, in a word, gorgeous. In several words, it is a gorgeous needle game utilizing a few well-known gimmicks in the best ways they've ever seen, and I don't think ever a more perfect needle game have I played.
Everything comes together in making this a perfect game. The visuals are jaw-dropping, they're so beautiful that I could have played the worst game ever and I would still have played it just to see the visuals. This goes hand-in-hand with the impeccable music choices, the first stage I think being my favorite in that respect. The ethereality of this first stage combined with the airy nature of the song sets the stage well, giving you an idea of what you're in store for. Each screen is messy in nature, but it's messy in the best way possible. I never thought stacked spikes could look this good, but Chatran has an eye for this sort of thing, as they nearly always have.
The platforming is, naturally, divinely designed. There's not a single hang-up to be found anywhere. The sheer amount of dedication to creating the most satisfying maneuvers is virtually unheard of. You can tell just how much care and effort was put into making this game feel good to play. Not once did I find myself getting irritated with a jump or dis-satisfied with a save. It's just the opposite, in fact. There were times I just had to sit and marvel at the genius on display in every single screen. Every death was not a set-back, but instead an opportunity to spend more much-appreciated time with a given save or screen; yet, in just the same way, they felt like a dis-service to the gameplay, as if I was ruining the like-butter nature of the game. It doesn't feel like a trial to do well in this game (though it certainly is), it feels natural, as if it's what you should be doing.
I find that I have little else to say. I'd like to be overly effusive because I'd have to spend several more paragraphs parroting the same positive words over and over again, exhausting my thesaurus several times over, just to be able to express how much I love this game. I'd like to, but that just wouldn't be a good review, now would it?
In short, this game is well worth your time if you're good enough for it.
[2] Likes
Everything comes together in making this a perfect game. The visuals are jaw-dropping, they're so beautiful that I could have played the worst game ever and I would still have played it just to see the visuals. This goes hand-in-hand with the impeccable music choices, the first stage I think being my favorite in that respect. The ethereality of this first stage combined with the airy nature of the song sets the stage well, giving you an idea of what you're in store for. Each screen is messy in nature, but it's messy in the best way possible. I never thought stacked spikes could look this good, but Chatran has an eye for this sort of thing, as they nearly always have.
The platforming is, naturally, divinely designed. There's not a single hang-up to be found anywhere. The sheer amount of dedication to creating the most satisfying maneuvers is virtually unheard of. You can tell just how much care and effort was put into making this game feel good to play. Not once did I find myself getting irritated with a jump or dis-satisfied with a save. It's just the opposite, in fact. There were times I just had to sit and marvel at the genius on display in every single screen. Every death was not a set-back, but instead an opportunity to spend more much-appreciated time with a given save or screen; yet, in just the same way, they felt like a dis-service to the gameplay, as if I was ruining the like-butter nature of the game. It doesn't feel like a trial to do well in this game (though it certainly is), it feels natural, as if it's what you should be doing.
I find that I have little else to say. I'd like to be overly effusive because I'd have to spend several more paragraphs parroting the same positive words over and over again, exhausting my thesaurus several times over, just to be able to express how much I love this game. I'd like to, but that just wouldn't be a good review, now would it?
In short, this game is well worth your time if you're good enough for it.
Rating: 9.5 95
Difficulty: 78 78
Oct 10, 2020
YaBoiMarcAntony
For: I wanna find the Sheep
For: I wanna find the Sheep
A very short and easy game that remains cute to the end, but also fairly boring if you're anywhere decent at fangames. The bosses are fun, though, but not overly exciting.
Tagged as: Needle
[0] Likes
Rating: 5.0 50
Difficulty: 35 35
Oct 10, 2020
9 Games
| Game | Difficulty | Average Rating | # of Ratings |
|---|---|---|---|
| A Sky Blue Denouement | 89.8 | 8.2 | 5 |
| April is the Cruelest Month | 85.0 | 8.8 | 16 |
| I Wanna Flying Disc | 91.5 | 9.3 | 4 |
| Frankie Teardrop | 2.2 | 6.0 | 10 |
| I Don't Wanna Dwell | 69.2 | 7.3 | 14 |
| Nebulous Thoughts | 80.3 | 9.1 | 30 |
| Strewn Detritus | 69.0 | 7.3 | 14 |
| The Sunken Cathedral | 70.0 | 8.2 | 25 |
| I Wanna be the Ziggomatic Drukqs | 70.5 | 7.3 | 9 |
48 Favorite Games
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