Renga in Blue   Interactive fiction and the All the Adventures project

Also known as the Concours de Fictions Interactives Francophones 2015; voting is now open.

The three entries are here.

Since these things often pass by the English-speaking interactive fiction world without a trace, I decided to try translating the opening of each. I took liberties with grammar and accuracy is not guaranteed.

—

WARNING: This game contains scenes of blood.

It’s late.

The day was long and exhausting.

You’re content to be finally alone in your room to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

All is quiet about you: this promises to be a tranquil evening.

Or maybe not?

L’Envol (The Flight)
Une participation de Anonyme au concours francophone de la fiction interactive, édition 2014. (Anonymous participant)

In a soft bed
You are lying in bed under a quilt. Everything is quiet. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts strange shadows while gently illuminating the room’s furniture and objects.

Your room’s window (facing your bed) is open.

You can also see a guitar, a bedside table, a wardrobe (which is closed), a chair, and a desk.

—

It is winter and night is beginning. Street lights that line the street reflect the windows. A few cars rumble past noisily on the pavement.
 
Couples walk by, dressed in thick overcoats and hats. A chestnut vendor reads a newspaper by the light of a fire.
 
The imposing Teatro delle Muse appears at the corner of a street, grabbing your thoughts. You enter through a small door set into a much larger one made of raw wood. The door closes behind you.

Comédie (Comedy)
Une fiction interactive par Edgar Havre

Entrance
The theater entrance is narrow with high ceilings. There are imposing crude wooden doors with a small opening for the staff.

To the north there are grand encircling windows of gold which suggest an enormous hall. Carpets are lined with purple velvet cords, and two corridors lead visitors to the top of some stairs.

You can see a man of powerful stature.

—

The curtains close. Just before they shut, she takes a fleeting look in his eyes and tries to smile at him.
It is in vain. Her lips do not move. Not just there; despite his efforts, his face also remains frozen.
The curtains are closed now. The wires that hold her up fall, followed by the wooden cross.

“At the next performance, I will,” she promises (as always).

Sourire de bois (Wooden Smile)
Un conte interactif par un soldat de plomb unijambiste (An interactive story by a one-legged tin soldier)

On stage
The show has just ended. She knows from experience she still has some time until the next performance.
She has time meanwhile to rest, and to collect decorative things that are damaged and might otherwise be discarded. Over time she has made a collection of memorabilia.