In the last month, JayIsGames has posted two Flash games of a type that really appeals to me: they generate an initial sense of total befuddlement, stemming from disparate elements with no apparent relationship to one another, that gives way to a satisfying sense of wholeness and completion at the end.
The first is Chronon, from the creator of GROW! and Tontie and other Eyezmaze games. It's a novel concept: you're given five or six snapshots of a scene, over the course of a single day, and in each snapshot you need to arrange the available elements to achieve your goal and tell a story. For instance, you can open the window curtains at 06:15, then check in at 09:05 to see if the warm sunlight has had any effect. When you do something just right, you earn points. The story that emerges is charming. My only hint: almost every element has a use, and many have more than one.
The other is the third in a series I mentioned before, but you don't need to have played the first two to enjoy it: Escape to Obion 3: The Alchemist's Notebook. After the initial unscramble-the-map puzzle, you're faced with a jumble of notes in an untidy laboratory, to which you will say, "Huh?" Be prepared to take notes. (The other chapters are a lot of fun as well, but none gave me such a satisfying lightbulb moment.)
Both of these resolve into a tidy whole that looks inevitable in retrospect, and insoluble at first—like reverse entropy, an explosion run backwards through the projector. Enjoy!
The first is Chronon, from the creator of GROW! and Tontie and other Eyezmaze games. It's a novel concept: you're given five or six snapshots of a scene, over the course of a single day, and in each snapshot you need to arrange the available elements to achieve your goal and tell a story. For instance, you can open the window curtains at 06:15, then check in at 09:05 to see if the warm sunlight has had any effect. When you do something just right, you earn points. The story that emerges is charming. My only hint: almost every element has a use, and many have more than one.
The other is the third in a series I mentioned before, but you don't need to have played the first two to enjoy it: Escape to Obion 3: The Alchemist's Notebook. After the initial unscramble-the-map puzzle, you're faced with a jumble of notes in an untidy laboratory, to which you will say, "Huh?" Be prepared to take notes. (The other chapters are a lot of fun as well, but none gave me such a satisfying lightbulb moment.)
Both of these resolve into a tidy whole that looks inevitable in retrospect, and insoluble at first—like reverse entropy, an explosion run backwards through the projector. Enjoy!