Gnarly!

It's about the fact that, despite Dialtown ostensibly being a dating simulator, Gingi's relationships with each character aren't shoehorned into the simplified box of romance, but occupy the messy and complex and REAL space between where their lives intersect. The character dynamics have CHARACTER, and the overarching purpose of each route isn't to date them, but to make them happy. Your stories don't end with true love's kiss. It ends when Karen says she has to leave to pursue her dream, but you're one thing in this town that she'll miss. It ends when Oliver is able to have a heart to heart with Mr. Dickens, understanding that all the sacrifices he made were so Oliver could fulfill his potential as a person and as a creator, and taking that knowledge to build something new. It ends when Norm lowers his gun and stops chasing revenge, choosing to instead find the kindness which exists in this world and make his own joy, in spite of all the pain it's put him through. It ends, and then it begins again.

It's about the burning dumpster fire of humanity that every person is a part of, and how they each are valued as people in their own right. They all have their own personal histories and stories outside of Gingi; Oliver values Mr. Dickens above everyone else in his life, Jerry has a herd of sick dogs to tend to, Karen knows Bigfoot and has a vault full of his bananas she delivers to him every Sunday, I could go on! I have never played a dating sim where every character is so full of life and interest and value, to the point where the player character themselves, Gingi, has their own distinct personality which could not be substituted with any other person without having the entire story collapse.

It's about the flawed but beautiful nature of their existences, filled with struggle and division but throughout it all they reach out to each other. Gingi helps Karen quit her job and profit as an artist. Oliver doesn't hesitate to shelter Gingi and Norm when they return from exile. Gabby indulges the kids who come into her shop and encourages them to experiment and find themselves. Dialtown itself might be shit, run by a corrupt system that leeches the soul out of its inhabitants, but the people care. The people matter, and they always have.

It's about the inherent queerness which runs through the very fabric of the game, inextricably shaping the story and the world it takes place in. It's about ostracization from a world which cannot understand and thus fears you. It's about finding family in the downtrodden and unwanted, building something pure and good in the midst of all this chaos. It's about not fitting in a box and fighting against the forces which try to force you to.

It's about how this story was made and filled to the fucking brim with love, and it's received with a heartfelt, wild kind of joy from the people it's touched. In a world which aims to commodify every morsel of humanity that's left, Dialtown is the farthest thing from that. It's weird, creepy, absurd and incredibly cursed, but there's something to connect to. And that's all that matters.