SIGNALIS is a game that has truly changed how I perceive media and narrative aspects. I honestly think it's one of the best games of all time, a very sincere and deeply thought-provoking experience with a love for leaving things up for interpretation. It allows more room for theories, headcanons, and a whole array of original narratives the fans can come up with at any given time. I love it when stories do that, as it makes the process of creating fan content that much more worthwhile. It has a beautiful retro-futuristic atmosphere mixed with PS1-era low-poly graphics that add to that feeling of nostalgic timelessness. Its messages and themes are also especially relevant and important in this day and age, where every country in the world seems to be slipping down the ugly slope of authoritarianism. I think it's a must-have experience that'll destroy one's soul. (In a good way!)
TL;DR - If you have the chance, I highly recommend you play or watch a no commentary playthrough of SIGNALIS, I personally think it deserves every minute you spend on it.
Thinking about getting kicked out on Christmas by your shitty parents and taking refuge at the Munson trailer. Shyly knocking on the door, wholly unprepared for the beaming smile on Wayne’s face when he sees you, standing out there in the cold. He ushers you in like it’s no trouble at all, because it really isn’t. You’re like a second kid to him, at this point.
Eddie is sat on the couch in his tartan pajama bottoms and white tee with a cranberry sauce stain on the front. Beer in hand, he’s the very the picture of comfort, tummy sticking out like a cat that got into the pantry.
His eyes betray confusion when they meet yours, but he’s nonetheless excited to see you- he never could hide that twinkle.
You join him on the couch, Wayne on his designated chair, watching old Christmas specials together. You’re given as many leftovers as you can stomach, and you watch as Wayne gets progressively drunker and drunker. (It’s the one time a year he ever does)
It’s sweet to watch Eddie laugh with his uncle. At home, walls down, in the one place he feels the safest. He even smiles fondly as Wayne sets up his old record player, imploring you to dance with him. He puts on a swing beat, attempting to twirl you around the small living room.
“M’ not as young as I look, sugar, these old feet don’t remember the steps.” He laughs, and your nose crinkles along with his own as he stumbles over himself a little.
You glance over to see Eddie looking at you as if you’d hung the moon, just for a split second, before he catches himself. Unbeknownst to either of you, Wayne also notices. He noticed a lot about the way his nephew looked at you. How he spoke about you.
And that old sly fox had some tricks up his well worn sleeve.
He holds a hand in a respectful spot at the small of your back while he gestures the other towards his boy.
“Cmon kid, show ‘em how it’s done,“ He grins, interrupting Eddie’s grunt of protest halfway through and directing the next sentence to you, in a faux hushed tone.
“He doesn’t like to admit but he can jive with the best of them, his momma taught him.”
Your face is scandalous, mouth hung open and eyes full of mirth.
“Well this I have to see,” you goad, “on your feet, Munson.”
Wayne ushers you towards Eddie before taking a step back, and the clumsy momentum has you bumping into Eddie’s chest.
With a few awkward smiles and littered apologies, you both begin to dance to the music, slightly drunk and high on holiday cheer.
His hand in yours, his lithe body moving somewhat jaggedly in time with the music, the scent of his aftershave. The way he makes you laugh with every twirl and goofy side step. All of it, maddening. Driving you insane with an affection you didn’t have an outlet for.
You want to bite him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he finally understands. You love everything he is. Everything he does.
The moment you think it, Eddie looks into your eyes and doesn’t shy away. His goofy smile falls into something softer, more sincere.
Neither of you really register Wayne’s voice when he turns towards the front door and tells you how he’s going to visit Mary two trailers down- something about fixing a leaky pipe and the promise of a homemade pecan pie.
All you can hear is the vinyl skipping over to the next track, a soft and slow melody. The uptick in your heartbeat as Eddie takes the leap and draws your body to his. Your head comes home to rest on his broad chest, feeling his warmth against your cheek. The glow of the modest tree lights dancing across the walls along with your languid sways from side to side.
Neither of you speak. Too afraid. Too cautious. Unwilling to shatter the moment, and desperately wanting more.
But for now, it would be this.
Two idiots in love, sharing warmth on a cold winter’s night.
