It's set during the Great Storm of 1987. You're a group of 30-somethings, all old university friends, all getting back together for a reunion in a country house in Norfolk. Then the power goes out. You're isolated, in the dark, no way to contact anyone else. And then the TV turns itself on. And there's Teletext on the screen. And then things start to get weird...The main sign that it was working, though, was that, even though I was sitting in my deskchair at home, the same one I'm sitting in now to write this blog post and do some emails... I was holding myself differently than I usually do. I was clutching my hands together. I was rubbing my face. I had my shoulders tense, up by my ears[2]. The emotion, the character, the situation, these things were held in the body.
And an article by the creator/operator:
The rest of the decisions I make during the show are judgements on the basis of what’s happened so far, what options I have available (between the more-pages-than-can-reasonably-be-played-through, my programmed automations and what I can change manually on the fly), the tone of play so far, any themes that have emerged, and my best judgement given that the game does have a strict time duration, spanning 11pm to midnight....Sometimes how it comes out in a game will depend on early cues from players – for instance (and it almost feels dangerous to admit this!) what counts as a ‘right’ answer to some of the quiz questions can vary for different groups.
...who also posted an interesting list of influences. And these:
Having some fun trying to make live video capture look like a pixelated animation ATM...
— Chloe Mashiter (@chloemashiter.bsky.social) November 10, 2026 at 9:44 AM
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I don't know why I find just the blinking creepier but I do
— Chloe Mashiter (@chloemashiter.bsky.social) November 10, 2026 at 9:45 AM
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