Ivy Balally Whore ❤️❤️

About Swords

So, I’m a game designer, Dr. Phil style, y’all—Southern drawl thick as molasses, askin’, “How’s that workin’ for ya?” Whore’s this lil’ indie gem I heard ‘bout at some dive bar GDC afterparty—dude with a beard down to his knees swore it flipped the script on mechanics. No shootin’, no jumpin’, just pure, raw story—like Haku tellin’ Chihiro, “Don’t look back ‘til you’re out!” I was hooked, y’all! Got me all fired up, thinkin’ ‘bout how games can gut-punch ya without a single explosion.

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So, I’m sprinting down the street, dodging cars on the main road. You know, the one that leads to the Luas stop? Yeah, that one. I’m like, “C’mon, c’mon!” I finally make it, and guess what? The tram’s packed. Like, sardines in a can packed. I squeeze in, and this dude next to me smells like he bathed in garlic. Ugh.

Death Notice of John Blyth (Balally, Dublin)