While many of them do get close to breaking the fourth wall, each of them is written in a way that you can almost certainly muck through a lot of the multiple-choice conversations based on their attitude alone. Many of Song of Farca‘s characters are better written than their standard archetypes too.
Occasionally their dog, which has wheels for rear legs, moves around the room, passing their twitching feet and yapping at the door. The protagonist is humanised by their continued presence on the top of the screen, how we can see them sitting with their legs tucked up as they make phone calls. With the increasing amount of cyberpunk- or hacking-themed titles out there, Song of Farca feels incredibly familiar, but it also feels more characterful than some of its peers. There are more than a few reasons why an expensive piece of tech could have been stolen away, and - light spoilers - it takes you down a path that has you scratching away at a local crime network and the disgruntled individuals that it comprises of. That’s the subject of the sample case, which can currently be played in the Song of Farca Prologue. The crimes are familiar, the difference is that the Mancunian on the phone is calling about an eTerrier, Sir Derpalot, who has been dog-napped.
The year isn’t specified, but it can’t be too far in the future, familiar vans and cars fill the streets that weave between the European-style residential blocks of Song of Farca‘s fictitious, titular city. In Song of Farca you take on the role of a hacker private eye, toeing the moral line between legality and crime in a future not wholly unimaginable. At the moment humanity is at an industrial peak for better or worse, technology is racing forward faster than it can be regulated, and humanity is still, in many ways, dealing with issues from generations ago.
0 kommentar(er)
