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Mood swings

me af explaining that the beginning of RDR2 is slow and dragging and quiet on purpose because it’s dropping you into the traumatised numbness of the gang, not even the calm after the storm because the storm is still raging and no one has slept and everyone is starved and hurt and Davey Callander, a man you’ve never met and never will, has died and it’s just another drop of blood to the bucket that’s overflowed already, and it’s so cold and there’s no food and they’re counting on you, these people that you don’t know who call themselves your family, who you will soon know intimately, and it’s the same when you wash up on Guarma, when each step is it’s own separate battle, you’re on soil you’ve never touched before and there’s still water in your lungs and your father is dead and Lenny along with him, and it may as well be Blackwater all over again, and you stumble and fall and there’s nothing else to do but pick yourself back up and keep going even though it’s easier just to lie there. It is slow and frustrating and stagnant because that is what Arthur is feeling and fuck, immersive and empathetic storytelling is so powerful and RDR2 does it so incredibly a well and I won’t sit here and see it be written off as “boring gameplay” for those sections.