Ori, Ochi, Onoe, Oh What the Hell, Omo?

B+.

I think if I were to bust a move and pull some contacts together, to make a game from RenPy, I could construct something rival to this.

However you really still have to give it props.

The effort that goes into it.

You can taste the blood and smell the stinky sweatiness from a day’s hard work.

No liberal use of the paragraph HTML tags can reflect just the amount of respect I have for the format where every sentence is its own mouse click.

The general idea behind a game like this is partly experimental, partly monumental, and all educational.

I think practice makes perfect, even when it comes to managing the production of a visual novel.

We all have to start from crawling, right?

And that’s a big reason why I blog.

That aside, the monumental aspect for me was that even with something like RenPy, someone made a game like Jerome Bettis carrying his pigskin treasure across the goal line.

It really is an example of concept materalized.

It’s turning ideas into words, words into instructions, instructions into actions, and actions bearing results.

It’s what makes everyone love it when a plan comes together.

For that alone, Ori, Ochi, Onoe is a game worth your time–at least go download and install and give it a quick spin.

But why the B+?

Perfection is the road to holiness, the mount of sanctification.

And for all my graces and mercies, that it is a fan game, a visual novel no less, it deserved all the brownie points it got.

Yet all that sweets merely countered out its campy construction.

Like how every sentence is its own mouse click.

Or the stereotypical blurry background art–I can do better.

Perhaps the music surpassed my expectations, I’m not sure.

Admittedly there were a few character-art scenes that also blew me away, but only because of the handicap.

It sure is no Fate Stay Night.

And it is still a visual novel.

A solid B score, means to me, that at least it was a visual novel.

And not some weaboo wetdream fanfiction materalized in a sneakily packaged trap.

Or maybe it was?

The hope, thankfully, survives even if a game may tank–in fact it burns ever brighter when someone fails.

It means that there is room for someone who is just slightly better, to come along, and to blow it apart with something even more beautiful.

Will that person be you?

Can you make a visual novel?

One that at least holds you in suspension of its weabooean fantasy?

One that is free to download, free to play?

One that at least, for the most part, is constructed with afterthought and aforethought?

I know how hard it can be, which is why OHOHOHOHO I am so not doing it.

But you should at least pay them a visit.