Part 1: Introducing RosangelaIntroducing Rosangela
Our first location is the rather uninspiring street in front of Rosa's apartment building.
What a morning. At least I'm home now.
Nothing to see here except for the teenager who seems to have made himself at home in the doorway.
I've never seen this kid before in my life.
We'll talk to him in a moment, but first, let's check our inventory. All we have at the moment is this letter that Rosa's carrying around with her for some reason.
Well, that looks like something we'll have to deal with later, but right now, who is this kid?
So who are you visiting today?
We've got three options here. We can express surprise, laugh it off or make an inquiry. I think surprise works.
Rosa is demonstrating her eloquence already.
Seriously, who are you here to see? I can't let you in unless you tell me.
Um... I live here?
No you don't. I know everybody in the building. I don't know you.
More choices. State the facts, question his presence, appeal for sympathy or grudgingly take your leave. This is one of those conversations where you can just select every option in sequence, so in no particular order, that's what we'll do.
Who the hell are you?
All right, Jim. Where's the regular doorman?
Jeez, where have YOU been? He's on strike.
Strike. All the building servicemen in the city are doing it. Union rules or something. I stepped in to help because I know everybody.
How come nobody told me?
Notices were posted all over the building. I put 'em up myself. If you lived here you'd have seen 'em.
Who pays attention to things like that?
Well, that's not my problem.
Listen, I really live here. Fourth floor. Number 4E.
4E. Hmm. Isn't that apartment empty?
No! *I* live there! And I want to GO there, thank you very much.
Oh. Hm. Maybe you're telling the truth.
He sees reason. Thank God.
Do you have any ID? A driver's licence or something?
Yes! I have a driver's licence. It's... ... upstairs. In my desk drawer. Crap.
Come on! This is New York. Who actually drives?
True, but I still can't let you in unless you prove you live here.
Please. I've had a REALLY tough morning. I need to get home.
Sorry lady, rules are rules.
I have my apartment key. Will that do?
Sorry, no. that could be any key.
Well let's go upstairs and see if it works.
And leave the door unattended? Can't do it sorry.
Really, I live here.
Nice try. I know everybody in this building, and I don't know ya. Sorry.
I've lived here for five years!
Then how come I've never seen you before?
I have no idea! Does it matter?
If you lived here, I'd know you. That's all there is to it.
Out of my way. I'm going in.
I wouldn't do that.
Why? Are you going to stop me?
Me? No. But I've got a cell phone in my pocket with 9-1-1 programmed in. All I have to do is hit "send" and the cops'll be here in five minutes.
Are you serious?
I don't believe this. OK, I have no ID and you don't know me. What can I do to prove I live here?
Hm. Well, can anyone in the building vouch for you?
I'm not sure. I mean, I don't really know anybody here.
How long have you lived here again?
Be quiet. Not all of us are social butterflies.
Okay. Whatever. Hey, what about Nishanthi Sharma? She could vouch for you.
Who is Niss... Nish...?
Nish-an-tee. Nishanthi Sharma. She lives in 4F. You know, right NEXT DOOR to 4E? You really don't get out much, do you?
Nothing. But I'm sure she could vouch for you.
Great. Call her up.
She's not here.
Of course she isn't. So I gotta wait here all day for her?
You might have to. Although she usually goes to Washington Square Park in the mornings. You could look for her there.
How long is this strike going to last?
Dunno. Could be a couple of hours, or a couple of days. Depends whether they reach a settlement or not. I don't know the details.
So let me get this straight. You want me to go all the way to the park... ... to look for a woman who MIGHT be there... ... and if she recognises me... ... then, and only then, I'll be granted the privelege of entering my own home?
That's pretty much it, yeah.
Seems like we could have got there with a lot less dialogue...
This is really stupid.
My thoughts exactly.
I'm not the one who forgot my ID.
I'll be back.
See you around.
Now why did I type out that whole long, repetitive and pointless conversation? Well, I wanted to make a point. This is why I hesitate to recommend the game. This isn't even the last long, tedious conversation we'll endure before the ghosts show up. The start of this game is so bad. But it does get better. I swear to you, once Joey Mallone shows up and the story actually begins, this is actually a good game.
Anyway, moving on. We have a location to check out. Well, two actually, but getting into the apartment is a little more pressing than speaking with a dead woman's doctor, so we'll visit the park and see if we can find Nishanthi Sharma.
Washington Square. It's been a while since I've been here. Still looks the same, I guess. Although the dog park is empty. I wonder why.
There's a sign on the gate. Maybe that will explain things.
"Please note! Dog walking park is closed until further notice." Hm.
I guess not. Oh well, let's find Nishanthi.
I need to get home.
The dog is wearing an extendable leash and will follow us around a bit, but seems harmless.
That's her! I recognise her from my building. Nishanthi... Sharma, was it? This is going to be awkward.
And here we encounter Rosa's greatest weakness: Social interactions with the living. Rosa makes several attempts to work up the nerve to interrupt Ms. Sharma but only succeeds in getting more and more panicky.
All right. Here I go. Umm... Um... Uh. No.
I cant do it. I can't just barge up to her.
I'll spare you the repetition. This is the worst puzzle in the game and took me ages to figure out. Well, I say figure out, I eventually got the solution by accident actually. Remember how the dog will follow you around? Well, if you walk behind the lamp-post, then around it, the dog will follow you and get tangled, then start barking.
At this point I've done enough typing for the moment, so let's have a video.
Home. Thank God. I've never been so happy to see a 500 square foot room in my life.
But no sooner has Rosa said this than the phone rings.
This is Dr. Quentin, from Bellvue Hospital?
I was your aunt's primary care physician. Did you receive my letter?
Yes, I received it. I haven't had time to come by, though...
That's all right. I'm sure you're busy. However, should you find the time today, my entire schedule is free.
I... sure. I'll keep that in mind.
Thank you. Good day.
After hanging up the phone, Rosa tells herself that Dr Quentin is going to keep bothering her unless she goes to see him, providing us with a brick-to-the-head style clue about what we should be doing next, but for now let's just take a little tour of Rosa's apartment.
The computer, "a bit old" but lets us access the internet. The clipboard contains nothing of interest. The blue door leads to a bedroom which we will not be visiting. The plant on the bookshelf is alive, the others are fakes. Next to it is a teddy bear.
That's Griff, the P.I. Bear. I've had him as long as I can remember. He's in horrible shape, but I don't have the heart to throw him away.
Below that is a notebook which we'll be making use of later, but for now we'll just leave it where it is. The kitchen contains nothing of note, but the green thing at the far left is actually some curtains covering a window. Finally, we have the photograph on the TV.
It's a photograph of Auntie Lauren and me. I look scared out of my mind. I don't remember when this picture was taken, but I look about four or five years old. Auntie Lauren. She took care of me after my parents died. For most of my life, Auntie was a vegetable, slowly rotting away in a hospital bed. I don't remember what she was like before that. This picture is all I have to go by.
And now after having gone to such lengths to get into the apartment, it's time to leave again. But that can wait for the next update. All that's left for this one is the promised commentary video.