Feedback and Interpretations on this Wonderful Game

[linkfire12]

I had an absolutely wonderful and moving experience playing through the entirety of Slay the Princess, I am incredibly glad I took the plunge and tried something outside of my comfort zone.

I wanted to find a way to express some of the disparate thoughts and introspection the game has encouraged in me. Incentivising this unnecessarily long cascading barrage of text.

General Overview

I generally dislike playing typical horror games, since I don't enjoy intentionally making myself feel anxious, or a sense of dread. I haven't delved into a lot of psychological horror either, as I generally have a distaste for nihilism and don't want to go out of my way to experience stories with such themes.
Despite this, I often find myself fascinated by horror games I wouldn't enjoy playing such as Darkwood, and enjoy a lot of the novel concepts and world-building you can discover in such stories.

What made me curious and interested in buying Slay the Princess was seeing the screenshots and comments discussing the elaborate dialogue system and reactivity, I thoroughly enjoy CRPG's, so this was a key selling point.

The game defied my expectations and is one of the most superbly moving stories I've experienced in recent memory. Every person who contributed to the game should be incredibly proud. The artwork, writing, sound design, voice acting, dialogue tree and music all contributed to a delightfully cohesive and immersive piece of media.

I loved the dive into philosophical concepts on the nature of change, relationships and existence. It felt well expressed on a laymen level, whilst also allowing intelligent introspection on the part of the player. I would often pause the game on certain lines of dialogue and think about how the subtext would link to both aspects of the games narrative and characters, and the larger philosophy the game was reflecting on.

Something understated I appreciated was how incredibly earnest the game is, and how it avoids the common trappings of meta-textual irony and fourth wall breaking "anti" visual novels that is incredibly common as of late.
The story deals with heavy and difficult topics regarding both its characters and philosophy, and both greatly benefit from the dedication towards a contained narrative sincere in its artifice. It relishes in its storytelling medium rather than acting ashamed of it.

The Dialogue Tree

The branching dialogue system is genuinely remarkable.
Throughout the story I often felt like there was at least one option that felt similar to how I would want a character to react, or how I would think through, or question, a situation. The game often feels like it respects your intelligence, and allows you reasonable trains of thought and ways to probe at the characters.
Opening your world up to realistic scrutiny like this ends up solidifying the world-building and makes the story feel more authentic and well-realised.

During particularly dire situations, there was often a choice that felt very similar to how I would want to act, such as trying to diffuse, defend myself rationally, or make peace.
Even when characters directly oppose you and refuse to back down, being able to challenge their motivations under the spotlight helps reveal the nuances of the character building, and let me feel acknowledged as a player, rather than helplessly propelled through the narrative.

The huge array of small dialogue adjustments and reactivity that make subtle grammatical or logical differences depending on the order you ask questions is astounding.
You can ask questions in multiple different ways to show different emotions, and characters will acknowledge if you are following up on something you previously mentioned, or a minor action you took. A surreal amount of understated effort to truly make it feel like your choices have an impact, that you are a character in the world, even if it doesn't influence the overall narrative in broad strokes.
It makes me realise that a lot of choice based games that struggle with linearity would benefit from minor adjustments that acknowledge players reactions, even if it doesn't alter the overall course of the story.

I'm not a huge fan of games that splits up the content into massive disconnected routes, as rather than making it feel like your choices matter, it often just feels like you are receiving an incomplete and disjointed story (Witcher 2 is a good example). The overarching narrative and game-play loop does a really effective job incentivising you to make choices a lot of players would otherwise be uncomfortable or hesitant to try.

I'm a pretty big softy myself, and went through the typical Damsel route, but the in-text assurance that alternative choices and chapters wouldn't have a negative impact, helped encourage me to fully explore the game; discovering how all the chapters highlight different aspects of the narrative, philosophical themes and characters.

The fact that even the paths you don't take are still true, makes replaying the game feel like you are completing the narrative experience, rather than segmenting it.

General Interpretations and Spoiler Discussion

Deification

A lot of emphasis is placed on "Princess" herself, and what she embodies philosophically, thematically and as a character.
One of my absolutely favourite parts of the game were the conversations with "The Shifting Mound", or Her, complemented by some of the most beautiful music in the entire game. Every single dialogue choice was emotionally moving, and the thoughts She provides on every single version of The Princess in the game was immensely insightful.

It didn't at all feel like a "boss battle", rather a relaxed and sincere conversation between two trusting partners; but the "dialogue fight" at the end of the game pondered really engaging philosophical concepts on the nature of transformation and the necessity of contrast to create beauty in all its forms.

Something that is given a lot less discussion is the nature of what the protagonist, You, "The Long Quiet", represents as a deity.

I feel that rather than merely being a representation of stagnancy or stillness; The Long Quiet is the god of perception, sentience, observation and the capacity to create understanding.

A major philosophical concept that is touched on numerous times in the game, is that in order for a being to create an understanding of the self, or ego, they require a conscious being outside of themselves through which they can be perceived and acknowledged.
This encompasses a large part of Her attachment to You, as You are the only thing She knows that is truly outside of Her being, and through You they find self-worth and acknowledgement as an individual, a true sense that they are alive.

Each of Your inner voices embodies a different lens through which to contextualise the world and create meaning. The attempt to create understanding and find a sense of truth and logic that allows the self to act upon, impact and change the universe, is itself an act of perception that enables the worlds recognition as something that exists.

So rather than merely being a counter-force, The Long Quiet embodies the ability to create order and structure that provides meaning to existence. The act of observation itself structures the universe from something hollow, and without anything to act upon it, into the beautiful web of creation and transformation that it is.

Without anything able to consciously acknowledge the universe, it, and The Shifting Mound, cannot exist, they are everything and nothing. The Long Quiet creates sentience and the power to act, to have agency, to choose, to be.

The seemingly random miracle that is the human body, an amalgamation of disparate building blocks, working in a magical synergy of organ, nerves and neurons that perfectly cooperate and regulate to create life and the ability to understand, is a clear demonstration.
We barely have begun to comprehend the sheer complexity and depth built into the body through the synchronous movement of cells that allow meaning and existence.
It is the ordering of chaos, a harmony through opposition that allows something beyond its constituent elements.

She is an unending canvas that embodies the essence of creation, and You are the brush strokes that allows it to exist, to be truly alive.
In order for structure and order to be created, it needs contrast, an opposing force, something to act against that allows for the act of formation.

Conflict is woven into the very fabric of existence, which is why The Long Quiet and The Shifting Mound truly need each-other.

"The Narrator", Him, considers himself to be a man of science, of reason. He is of the firm belief that there is, must be, and always will be, a definite reality and nature of existence. That everything, with enough effort, can be understood, examined and controlled, that definite truth and objectivity exist.

What he is oblivious, or in denial, towards is that the Shifting Mounds essence as life that is limitless and infinitely contradictory is what allows one to strive for understanding. An existence that is finite and controlled robs the capacity of sentient beings to discover, learn, memorise and theorise.

The Narrator envisions a universe without Her as "burden-less", one of "endless forgetfulness followed by endless rediscovery". Nothing new can be discovered, since all that is is all that will be. Nothing can be remembered, since there is nothing to be cherished or learnt. Objectivity, or truth, wont matter, since nothing will exist outside of comprehension.

The argument is not that truth has no meaning, but that the act of self-discovery and the creation of ones perception of truth, is what allows it to exist and have beauty. There is no singular logic, but a being's capacity to create their own, is in itself, wondrous.

The Narrator during the Wraith chapter proclaims that the very nature of an infinite universe wouldn't necessarily rob choice of its meaning, but he himself argues that the limitless nature of growth and decay, the absence of finality, destroys it.
He wishes for an endless universe, but desires to erase the very concept of infinity in order to do so.

The Narrator's Gambit

It becomes increasingly obvious upon replaying the game how densely interwoven the characters belief systems and motivations are towards the many routes and chapters.

Almost every single moment of conflict in the game is built upon belief and perception rather than solid existence, which ties the physical occurrences directly into the emotional gamut The Princess and protagonist are experiencing, and provides various insights into the contradictory, sorrowful and marvellous nature of love and relationships.

The reason You cannot kill The Princess without the dagger is because the intent to kill is woven into it, and reason You are overpowered or in danger is solely because You believe yourself to be.

It helps explain exactly why The Narrator designed the echoes and construct the way he did, and also showcases the sheer horrific level of abuse and suffering he puts The Long Quiet and The Princess through in order to achieve his goals.

Almost every single act of physical violence is because The Narrator requires You to believe you are a finite being. Your capacity to perceive directly acts upon each broken shard of The Shifting Mound, as they depend on your acknowledgement of them to exist. Everything lends towards the goal of maintaining the illusion that She is a small controlled being, and to trick you into truly believing that She is dead.

You must hate Her, You must resent Her, Your feelings of empathy and longing must be turned into sorrow and regret because You must consciously wish for Her to die with every fibre of your being. Every broken piece of You and Her are being tortured across dozens of constructs in order to break down and destroy the very fabric of Her being.

The reason you die is not because of Her, but because You were told you must. Any moment you are feeling too strong an emotion, that You are changing and growing too far beyond the realms of the small world he has created for You, He reinforces your limitations and convinces You that you are in pain, that you are dying, and that She is responsible for it.

The chapter The Wild is the perfect demonstration of this dynamic. It is heartbreaking, wonderful storytelling.

[linkfire12]

The Chapters and Minor Feedback/Criticism

From my time playing the game, my absolute favourite chapters were The Wild, The Beast, The Adversary, The Thorn and The Spectre.

These chapters, to me, felt like they that they have the most fleshed out themes, avenues for player freedom, and effective branching dialogue.

Every chapter touches on a different aspect of relationships and the tumultuous nature of love. And when combined with the Shifting Mounds conversations on each vessel mid-game and during the ending, they feel like they are exploring a really nuanced expression of emotion and the necessity of change and contrast.


The Adversary feels like one of the most reactive and choice driven chapters in the game, and I love the themes it touches on.

A lot of The Princesses have shared themes in their desire for understanding, companionship, freedom, and self-conceptualisation. A lot of them will act upon it in a toxic and self destructive way due to fear of the unknown and self-loathing.

The Adversary has found a form of self expression through another person that makes her feel alive, to thrive and relish sensations new to her short existence. It allows her to grow, struggle and improve via working with another, even if in a narrow way, which is a completely foreign concept to her.

It is genuinely touching how she tries to treat the protagonist as an equal, and is willing to have a long heartfelt conversation in order to try and show her point of view and what she wants out of her partner. It is an exploration of passion and consent, but one she relies on due to fear of the unknown.

She is scared that without the protagonist sharing her passions, she will lose this feeling and fall back into terrible isolation and loneliness.
She doesn't want to risk exploring her inner desires of self-discovery and learn about herself, or to risk leaving the cabin seeking freedom, fearing the unknown changes this may bring.

If the protagonist is either unable or unwilling to reciprocate in her passions in the same way (portrayed through a different form of violence or intent), she is terrified and furious, and unable to truly accept the individuality and consent of a being outside of herself.

My main issue with the chapter is that whilst the Fierce ending is sincerely moving, not giving her consent isn't given the same gravitas. The pacifism route leads to the incredibly under-cooked Fury chapter, and the "I didn't hear no Bell" path feels like a letdown compared to bringing the knife, despite being a full commitment to sharing her passions.

The correlation with pacifism and contrarianism feels misplaced, and doesn't really accommodate attempts to be empathetic and heal The Princess and protagonists relationship.


The Nightmare touches on some poignant ideas, but feels like it lacks player freedom.

She comes across as a Princess living a half-life, a shattered form of discovery from only seeking her worst impulses due to resentment and regret. She has a flicker of understanding of her nature to transform that around her, but only in its darkest forms, demonstrated through the half existence imposed on the environment around her.

She acts upon her perceived paranoia, and violently attempts to suppress the will of those around her; but the unwillingness to accept consciousness outside her own being, deprives her from feeling a true sense of self and meaning.

The Nightmare revealing her heart to you, her innermost fears and anxieties, does an incredible job showcasing an aspect of The Princess, or Shifting Mound, Herself, that colours Her existence.
She feels that Her very nature hurts existence, that She creates suffering and the worst of emotion, torturing people simply by existing.
The Nightmare, as a mere aspect, convinces herself that her nature is definite, and that by suppressing her suffering, embracing the pain she causes and subjugating the spirit of others, she wont have to contemplate what she is.

My major issue is that the proceeding chapter after the "Moment of Clarity" itself, doesn't fit the themes discussed in either the sequence itself, or the ending dialogue (the impermanence of fear epilogue is particularly well done, but I'm still trying to grasp it). The chapter is a long linear sequence with a lot of build up from the inner voices that goes nowhere, since the player is imposed to have had their will and sense of self shattered, with no choices provided whatsoever.

Rather than allowing the protagonist to accept her pain and fears, and share the burdens of her heart and allow healing, it all just feels sort of uneventful and stagnant, wallowing in the abuse already inflicted, and then ending anticlimactically.


The path that leads to The Wild is a bit difficult to discern. Whilst handling the same fears and turmoil most of the other versions of the Princess does, The Beast seems to primarily differ based on their coping mechanism.

She is alone, the only person outside of herself appears to wish her harm, the only thing that has kept her alive was her instincts to defend herself.
Rather than suffering her innermost desire to learn who she is, what and why she exists, she attempts to revert to a primal mind.
The only thing that matters are your senses and actions as a creature. You don't need to ruminate over your suffering; you rely on your own strength to control your environment and destroy that which is other, that could potentially hurt you. But she placed herself in stagnation, whilst you adapt and grow, leading to her trapping herself in The Den.

Even then, she can't hide her wish for freedom, and the desperate untraceable yearning she feels in the presence of her other, her partner.
The epilogue draws parallels between consumption and relationships, the need for sustenance, the fight to grow and feel alive. That the form and substance provided by relationships requires the capacity to act upon the world.
She reasons that consuming and asserting control over the protagonist, relying on her animal instinct, will complete her, and fill the sorrowful ache and desire for warmth inside her heart.

The Witch, although more focused on the nature of trust; desperate hope turning towards inner strength in the face of betrayal, still carries a similar ethos. The denial of yourself as a being capable of change. The belief that your nature, connected to the earth that created you, is an immutable fact of life, and that wishing for better is a fools errand.

The further chapters you reach, the less volatile and influenced by your perception the princess appears to be, being more heavily influenced by her inner thoughts as an individual.
The Witch and The Beast both end a similar way, attempting to assert control over the flesh fails to complete them and ease their pain.
Perhaps this desperation pushes them to look further inward, to try and dig further into their primal nature, into the essence of what created them, discovering the ebb and tide.

This deep reflection leads to a beautiful revelation that opens new horizons and allows her the capacity to make amends.
She still fears the pain, the stagnant existence and torture the Narrator forced on her, so then the choice is placed on You.
Severing yourself from The Wild and forcing her to relive her agony is one of the decisions I am still not comfortable making in this game.


The Tower, in my opinion, is actually the weakest chapter in the game, and the worst version of the Princess.
I'm not a fan of the memey attractiveness foisted unto her, because her personality portrays a completely self-destructive being consumed by ego and hatred; attempting to assert control over the consciousness of others in a completely selfish drive.

There is a huge dissonance in the correlation between the act of being a dominant partner in a relationship, and the incredibly abusive person she deludes herself into being.
Her perception is an exploration of the fear the protagonist has of a higher power that would rob meaning from existence. The truth being that the power of life, existence and The Shifting Mound isn't one that asserts authority and superiority, it is a companion to those that live in the universe, that guides the ability to hope and feel alive.

The idea that submission or meekness makes you lesser, that the value of your soul is diminished, or that you aren't still an equal in relationships, is a theme that isn't effectively explored and combated.

Through robbing the will of that outside herself, and the ability for her to be perceived, she destroys her ability to comprehend the self, and thus her capacity for true self-awareness and fulfilment.

Not taking the dagger makes the chapter extremely linear, and there is no avenue for the protagonist to resist oppression as a pacifist. It notably lacks dialogue options compared to most of the other content in the game.

The epilogue dialogue touts that you overcame your fears through the capacity to hope for change, but The Tower makes no attempt to seek transformation, or to find the healing of her ego through her partner. The possibility to make each-other better people is discussed, but never enacted upon.


This is also worsened by how under-cooked and thematically inconsistent The Fury chapter is, although that has been well discussed.
From my interpretation based on what I read, The Princesses realisation is that they have been forcing a self destructive suppression of their spirit, and creating desecration through denying the consent and agency of her partner, which robs herself of meaning.

She desperately turns her thoughts inward in an attempt to assert mastery over the flesh, and snuff out the feeling of agony and rage that has overcome her. She has unwound in self-destructive impulses in an attempt to deny feelings of empathy and discovery.

The chapter might work better if, despite "unwinding" the protagonists body, turning over the flesh, it does not cause Your spirit to waver.
Forcing The Fury to truly reflect on what it means to be, and the realisation that she can't force control upon beings outside herself, would allow it to work in parallel with the Adversary route, which is about denying consent.


The Razor appears to handle similar concepts in a much more effective manner. The Princess discovers the sensation of sadism, and despite nominally acknowledging the protagonist, lacks the capacity to understand her forceful deny of the other.

She asserts control over the flesh, and the physical sensations of life. When the protagonist is able to overcome their unjust treatment, to disconnect from the pain and violence and follow the continuous flow of existence, they eventually discover the capacity of change.

Through either weaving their perception into a weapon, and creating a dance out of their newfound control of existence, or disassociating themself from the now, from the physical, and letting their spirit feel the stream of simply being, they humble the Razor, and rob her narrow comprehension of meaning. Both demonstrate that there is more to life and existence, more to strive for, and start the process of healing.


A fair few chapters in the game, such as The Witch, The Tower and The Nightmare, feel a lot more restrictive if you don't take the blade. The ending explains that bringing the knife instils meaning into it; the expectation that it must be used inside the construct, but often throughout the game that isn't the case.

The game could benefit from more choices that head towards a path of healing. Not being able to reach The Thorn unless you enter the basement with violent intent is strange, since as a pacifist you aren't given the choice to relinquish your power and put your trust in her, merely to tepidly attempt to escape together.

The Nightmare, Adversary, and Tower would all benefit from choices that allow stubborn empathy, the ability to stand up for yourself, but still try to care, learn from another, and work towards something better.


The Grey, in both its variations, is a chapter I've had trouble drawing proper meaning from. They seem to broach mourning, of love cut short and love unspoken, but the actions of The Princess and the ending monologue are heavily disconnected.
The discussion is focused on what it means for something to be an ending, a passion of a moment in time that requires momentum beyond it to be fulfilling.

It was a bit difficult discerning what the philosophy guiding the Drowned and Burned Princesses were. Perhaps The Drowned was overcoming her fear to share herself with another, and gaining the courage to express her sorrow at the shared distrust and scepticism?

The Burned Grey realised that their bodies were a prison, and wished to share her love through a passion of sensation, but what does that express about normal relationships?

A lot of chapters have a inner-textual rationalisation, a symbolism on love and relationships, and a subtext of philosophy, but The Grey didn't feel grounded enough for me to understand the communicated themes.

The chapters also had a lot of build up with inner voice monologues, (which I find to be a weaker aspect of the game compared to my favourite part, speaking to The Princess), and then leads up to a very linear ending.


The Wraith feels a lot more effectively expressed as a cascading escalation of the shared sense betrayal, spite, and hatred overtaking the affection and yearning for companionship. She can't rely on anyone, so must find strength within herself to seek her freedom.


Since I have trouble with the immoral choices, I rationalised slaying The Damsel, as an attempt to free her from her inner prison. She appeared to lack self-actualisation and agency, like she wasn't able to live a full life; perhaps imprisoned in her own mind. The ephemeral nature of death the protagonists face perhaps meant you could help restore her sense of being by freeing her from the loop.

Whilst replaying the full Damsel path it more so comes across that she is placing her trust in you to take the burden of responsibility beyond her desire to leave. Further probing, perhaps due to an insecurity that you aren't enough for another, reinforces the deconstruction of her image due to your power of perception.


If it's within the scope of The Pristine Cut, I would like to see some adjustments to The Tower, The Adversary, The Nightmare and The Witch when it comes to player choice.

[linkfire12]

The Endings

Just as you were once nothing is incredibly heartbreaking and moving, and one of the most difficult parts of the game for me to go through. You see the genuine heart of who She is, and how brightly her love burns even when She is barely a slim essence of Herself. The writing is a wonderfully effective display of terror and sadness.

The shared musical motif between the ending, The Wild, The Moment of Clarity and The Shifting Mound carried the emotions of the story, they are my absolute favourite musical tracks in the game.

The fact that She is spends Her last moment before total oblivion, desperately trying to comfort you and make you feel loved, for as long as She is able, was painfully touching.

A new and unending dawn was difficult to stomach. Killing Her, felt like the only true display of violence in the game. No matter which version of The Princess speaks, Her attempt to understand Your choice, Her fear of death, and Her sadness of love lost made me cry.



You’re on a path in the woods, made me tear up when I experienced it with The Stranger, Her final conversations are some of the most insightful and emotive in the entire game.
There was an incredible sense of truth when She describes that, even during the darkest moments of pain and torture brought upon one another, there was an indescribable undercurrent of warmth and love in each-others presence. An effective allusion towards the fact that each path demonstrates a different aspect of what it means to love another.

The Narrator describes her honeyed words as innate manipulation, believing that Her inherent nature to change and grow, to be unknowable, makes Her something to be hated and opposed.

But even during Her darkest moments, The Princess will almost always speak with you, and try to make you understand, whether She is a Beast or Wraith. It is almost impossible for Her to lie, to not bear Her heart, and even when you will Her to, she is terrible at it.


There are no endings is a beautiful and inspiring conclusion, a beautiful culmination of the journey the game takes you on.

But even despite the adversity you overcame together, the wounds you healed, the hope you have given spark to, there is something missing.

She states that She does not care for mortals, that You and Her are beyond them; that the totality of what matters and brings fulfilment is solely within you both.
She considers Herself an all encompassing being, one that contains the totality of truth and meaning, all that is and all that ever shall be, is already known within Her multitudes.

But that is the greatest tragedy, for She is no longer a hollow vessel of natural forces. She and You are not as you once were, before The Narrator gave you new form. You are now beings, conscious of your own existence, and of that outside yourself; you yearn for discovery, for completion, for fulfilment, you each have spirit, a heart.

You and Her contain shards of each-other's essence. She bestowed upon You the essence of life and existence, the flow and capacity of transformation, to attune yourself with the rhythm of creation.

For all the gifts She brings onto the world, she considers herself a stagnant being. When She encompasses everyone at every moment, none of those points in time have beauty, it is everything and nothing. She cannot feel the joy and life she brings into the universe, that which mortals live, search and struggle through.
She believes she cannot see outside of Herself, to ever experience uncertainty.

The nightmare is still within Her.
There is still despair at the thought of the suffering Her existence creates, the agony and hollow thoughts, the fear.
The thought that every fibre of her being, every action and movement, causes untold pain she cannot stop.

The reason She so desperately clings to You, it because without that connection, She fears there would be nothing.
The sense of self-consciousness, the discovery that you are alive and that you matter; it would be impossible.
She would be as she was before, an empty vessel that carries the concept, impacting those that exist within Her. Never experiencing existence, but with the torturous burden of being alive, of having to think empty thoughts for eternity alone.

However, You bestowed upon Her perception, the capacity to see outside of Herself and create understanding, to form an inner truth and admire beauty, the ability feel and love and learn, to probe at existence and struggle against it, to overcome and experience, to be.


So when you reach the ending "And? What happens next?", it is not the two of you hiding within yourself, freezing yourself within the construct out of fear of what your existence will do to creation.
It is You opening your heart to Her, allowing Her to finally experience the gift She bestowed upon creation. To see and conflict against the wonders of the universe, to combat against the chaos of existence and create meaning, to truly feel everything, including love.

She is finally facing something that is truly unknown to her, and thus, she has reason.

So perhaps then, this choice allows a new act for creation, a new path.
Something other than erasing memory and wiping the board clean.
Something other than completely destroying what was, to make way for what is "new". Something other than retreading the same steps for all of eternity.
Something else.

Memory can persist of those before. Creation can weave an even bigger tapestry. One where each previous tale adds grounding, weight, a new ingredient, to what becomes the next transformation.
An existence not trapped in reshaping the old, but forever discovering the new, where the spirit and stream of consciousness of those who live in it wont face oblivion, but merely a different journey with those they love.

Leaving the cabin with The Stranger is by far my favourite ending. It feels like the truest representation of who She is. The writing for Her conversations adds depth that colours your entire experience within the story. It truly feels like She is a complete being of Her own agency, one that oozes compassion; and that every aspect of Her, without hesitation, truly loves You. It is a wonderful expression of affection.

The other versions of this ending almost suffer in comparison, with how little you get to discuss. But with Her, it feels like a real conversation, two people bearing their hearts to one another.
The music heightens the emotion.
The ending genuinely made me cry.

The greatest irony of all, is that in The Narrators fear to protect those he loved most; to trap existence in a fatal agony of stillness.
He inadvertently created something entirely new.
He created two beings who truly loved each-other, and whose lifeblood was woven into the very concept of the universe and everyone who lives in it.

Love now permeates the essence of life itself, throughout all of existence, and creates the possibility for something better.

[Dallar]

Not sure I agree with your views on what each vessel suppose to represent, but a lovely read all the same. Especially the hopeful take on the 'Leave together' ending, that was really sweet.

[linkfire12]

Originally posted by Dallar:

Not sure I agree with your views on what each vessel suppose to represent, but a lovely read all the same. Especially the hopeful take on the 'Leave together' ending, that was really sweet.

Thank you for the kind words!

I'm mostly trying to draw a connection between what The Shifting Mound states about each vessel, what they can possibly transform from and into via other chapters, and trying to figure out their rationalisation for their actions.

A big part of it is obviously how The Long Quiet perceives The Princess, and the inner voices were designed to portray that in order to make the narrative clear to players, but The Princess herself still appears to have a rich inner voice.
Even in her base form, she has an intuitive knowledge and understanding of what it could mean to blindly trust another.

If you or anyone else has different interpretations or theories on what the vessels represent conceptually, I would absolutely love to hear it, or any other thoughts.

[Vincent von Helsing]

A major philosophical concept that is touched on numerous times in the game, is that in order for a being to create an understanding of the self, or ego, they require a conscious being outside of themselves through which they can be perceived and acknowledged.
This encompasses a large part of Her attachment to You, as You are the only thing She knows that is truly outside of Her being, and through You they find self-worth and acknowledgement as an individual, a true sense that they are alive.

I like where the game takes this by giving you another voice in your head that accurately matches up to the Princess that changed in Chapter 2 of each run.

The Smitten matches The Damsel
The Stubborn matches The Adversary
The Cheated matches The Razor
The Skeptic matches The Prisoner
The Hunted matches The Beast
The Paranoid matches The Nightmare
The Contrarian matches The Stranger, but not perfectly... I still have debates about him.
The Broken matches The Tower
The Cold matches The Spectre, or just about any time you are able to kill the Princess in cold blood without thinking. (The Grey)
The Opportunist matches The Witch
and of course...

The Hero matches The Princess
The Long Quiet also matches The Shifting Mound

I like the dynamic that each Voice has with each Princess. Some are asymmetrical connections like The Tower being dominant while The Broken is submissive, or like The Paranoid being deathly afraid of The Nightmare, but they were made for each other nonetheless.

[Vincent von Helsing]

If it's within the scope of The Pristine Cut, I would like to see some adjustments to The Tower, The Adversary, The Nightmare and The Witch when it comes to player choice.

I think The Adversary, The Witch, and The Nightmare give the player plenty of options in terms of dialogue and different ways to approach the scenario, but what really needs to be fixed as far as player choice goes is:

The Tower
The Apologue
The Fury
maybe The Moment of Clarity
and perhaps The Damsel

All the rest of the routes seem to follow a certain theme, so if it feels like there's little room for options, it's likely because The Princess feels like you don't deserve any options, or the route was designed to make the player feel constricted... or Cheated, like what The Razor does to you. Both versions of The Grey drive their point home that the Player deprived The Princess of options or agency so she will do the same thing to you.

The Tower kinda works because her whole point was that she is the dominant one taking control over you, but I still agree that this route should be expanded upon a little. The Stranger sorta works because the whole point is that reality is fragmented and then just melts together, so having multiple options there would probably split your brain into pieces. The Damsel's whole gimmick is that she is entirely reliant upon her hero to save her and see any freedom, but soon turns all her agency towards the romantic ties between you two and "deconstructs" when you ask her about what she wants.

At least let us stab The Apologue and The Fury, like come on... Those two routes are the actual worst in terms of options. At least The Fury reacts to each different dialogue option before killing us, but I'd like another ending where I don't have to see my intestines splattered across the screen. It's been forever since I've seen The Moment of Clarity arc, and I think that was my first ever Chapter 3, so I was kinda shaken to see that there's barely any options on Chapter 3 so I just assumed that it had to be that way...

... until I saw The Thorn, which actually gives you many options for a Chapter 3 scenario, and I like that. There's a reason why everyone else loves The Thorn, aside from the kissing part, which is still nice too. I think it would be cool (and funny) to see a flirting option for every route.

But yeah, hope The Pristine Cut gives us much-needed options in the otherwise linear scenarios.

[linkfire12]

Originally posted by Vincent von Helsing:

If it's within the scope of The Pristine Cut, I would like to see some adjustments to The Tower, The Adversary, The Nightmare and The Witch when it comes to player choice.

I think The Adversary, The Witch, and The Nightmare give the player plenty of options in terms of dialogue and different ways to approach the scenario, but what really needs to be fixed as far as player choice goes is:

The Tower
The Apologue
The Fury
maybe The Moment of Clarity
and perhaps The Damsel

To clarify what I mean, I agree that The Witch, Nightmare and Adversary are overall very good chapters that provide a lot of options when it comes to dialogue and approach (and how even the order you select explore options modifies the conversations). I just felt specific choices/routes in those paths were a bit unfulfilling.

With the Adversary, the routes that lead to The Fury, pacifism and fisticuffs, feel incongruous with the touted themes.
Being a pacifist gives you the contrarian voice, but The Adversary is primarily about consent and the reciprocation of passion in different ways. Rather than providing an avenue for maturity and healing. Allowing The Princess to understand she cannot force her desires onto another being; The Fury is restricted to the Princess merely being trapped in her rage and despair, and then ends prematurely.

Fisticuffs is a reciprocation of her passions and desire for sensation, but for some reason the dagger is mandatory in order to do that?

The Witch is similar; the chapter is overall excellent, but the fact that the only path towards healing is locked behind bringing the dagger is counter-intuitive.
The dagger is a metaphor of the construct that instils the protagonists intentions into what occurs.
It makes sense that options are provided for players who may have just picked up the dagger to try and free the Princess or protect both of them; but that should also mean that not taking the dagger puts weight into reality. You don't get the opportunity to relinquish the threat of violence to The Princess, if you head down with pacifist intent?

With The Nightmare, I specifically meant The Moment of Clarity, which seems to relish in the suffering inflicted, rather than the broader ideas mentioned in the epilogue.

The Tower expresses its subtext well, I just dislike how soft it is on The Princess, as it comes across as her giving into her worst impulses.
Despite touting herself as a being of divinity, she is giving into stagnation, seeing herself as a rigid construct, denying herself to capacity to change in bitter irony.

She clings to idea she needs you (a witness), but deludes herself into thinking forcing control over your ego will allow her to mould you to never leave her. She robs herself of self-fulfilment and self-discovery through another, and thus robs herself of her alleged power.

It's just the fact that, if you don't bring the dagger, the route is completely linear that robs the storytelling.

I completely agree with you on The Grey, I just struggled to understand what they were trying to convey symbolically.

Thank you for the response!

[Lab Rat]

Here is my take.

This game is about relationship(s). Slay the Princess is a metaphor for ending the relationship. Basically, the end of a romantic relationship in terms of psychology is equivalent to the death of a person. Hence slay the princess is an equivalent to ending the relationship - slay equals end/termination, leaving cabin equals equals finality of the decision(s), cabin is the relationship itself. All the versions of Princess and choices are relationship dynamics and transactional dynamics within it. Chapters are consequences of choices and depictions of escalation/downward spiral (or resolution/reconciliation). End of the world is what happens when your partner/S.O. leaves you, so in a way, as i understand, it was also about a decision/compulsion to end the relationship (for reasons which are not conveyed to you) - (perhaps terror of being in one, and/or loss of possibilities/infinite potential - The Endless Dawn)

A major philosophical concept that is touched on numerous times in the game, is that in order for a being to create an understanding of the self, or ego, they require a conscious being outside of themselves through which they can be perceived and acknowledged.
This encompasses a large part of Her attachment to You, as You are the only thing She knows that is truly outside of Her being, and through You they find self-worth and acknowledgement as an individual, a true sense that they are alive.

Pretty much that.

Male psychological construct - The Long Quiet, all the voices.
Female psychological construct - The Shifting Mound, all variations of the Princess.
Voices match variations (reactions to player's - male's - actions): The Tower and voice of the Broken - narcissism & submission, etc.

I may be wrong, so there is that. Frankly, no game kept me up at night thinking about it as much as this one.

[Vincent von Helsing]

Originally posted by Lab Rat:

Here is my take.

This game is about relationship(s). Slay the Princess is a metaphor for ending the relationship. Basically, the end of a romantic relationship in terms of psychology is equivalent to the death of a person. Hence slay the princess is an equivalent to ending the relationship - slay equals end/termination, leaving cabin equals equals finality of the decision(s), cabin is the relationship itself. All the versions of Princess and choices are relationship dynamics and transactional dynamics within it. Chapters are consequences of choices and depictions of escalation/downward spiral (or resolution/reconciliation). End of the world is what happens when your partner/S.O. leaves you, so in a way, as i understand, it was also about a decision/compulsion to end the relationship (for reasons which are not conveyed to you) - (perhaps terror of being in one, and/or loss of possibilities/infinite potential - The Endless Dawn)

You word this like the relationships themselves are negative overall, but sometimes there's a good patch, or at least something good to take from it. (Also keep in mind some of the negative connotations are directly stemmed from the actions you took).

The Damsel and The Thorn, as well as The Spectre are some good examples. The Thorn is what it means to reconcile with someone you wronged and ultimately FIX the relationship you had, more or less. The Spectre is basically the reverse of The Thorn but still positive. The Spectre is willing to forgive you for what you did, as long as you help her and stop the hostility. Bonus points go to The Adversary for wishing for an equal and understanding relationship (through fighting, but even if you don't fight her, she hesitates to fight you until you are ready, but she loves it when you share her interests). A lot of people knock on The Damsel for being shallow, but she really just wants you happy. The Smitten thinks she's just being sweet and I like that too. No violence, no complicated trust issues, just some good ol' fashioned love.