Billing itself as a modern gothic tale, Frank and Drake is certainly that – but it's also a kind, winding tale of personal connections. Clocking in at a little over four and a half hours (at least, my first playthrough took around that long, spaced over a few days), developer Appnormals Team has managed to deliver a heartful rumination on the flaws that keep us from meeting others halfway, and the small moments of kindness to ourselves and those around us that brighten our lives.

I've lived in a city for nearly all my adult life. I know the backway graffiti, the quiet streets, and flickering lights in wide alleys. It's a vibe the game captures well, reminding me of nights when I stood by an alley close to home, looking at the neon-lit lights of a bar and hearing the raucous music inside as if it were a paean. I know how deep our connections go here, even if they feel as if they're surface level. People look out for each other. Neighbors take in mail, check on those they know live alone, keep an eye on the familiar paces we always see someone taking and worry when, one day, they're no longer there.

Frank and Drake illustrates this cohesive awareness of others in loving detail.

Between hours

The story revolves around two characters: the eponymous Frank and Drake. Frank functions in the daylight and has issues with memory, Drake is (literally) allergic to the sun and can only go out at night. They communicate, once Drake moves in, entirely through sticky notes left on the fridge. Through these, the relationship grows, moving from curious to caring as Frank and Drake begin to take on the burden of each other's troubles. This eventually unites them as they work towards the same goal. Something is afoot in Oriole City, and they both mean to find out what.

I know the backway graffiti, the quiet streets, and flickering lights in wide alleys. It's a vibe the game captures well, reminding me of nights when I stood by an alley close to home, looking at the neon-lit lights of a bar and hearing the raucous music inside as if it were a paean.

We follow this branching mystery by taking turns playing through each of their points of view, with Drake at night and Frank during the day. It's through their "ships passing in the night" style of cohabitation that we learn what ails each of them, physically and mentally, and get slowly closer to finding out why.

The art style of the game utilizes rotoscoping, which traces animation over real movements, and these feel enlivened by the animations, given greater personality by the simple color and lighting. The movement is heavy, even, in something as simple as the contemplative lifting of a hand to draw a sticky note from the fridge after a restless sleep. These moments of movement are indicated by pressing the arrow keys in certain scenes, and they feel nearly meditative in their slowness. Take a moment, the game seems to say, relax with this.

The music moves between nascent lo-fi to soft jazz, echoing the lulling feeling of the game itself. Its decidedly reflective and moody, but that fits the nature of the game's mystery taking some darker turns. I played Frank and Drake mostly at night, which felt appropriate for me, glancing out occasionally over my own city skyline. It's a game with a comforting melody, a mystery to solve that's edgy but never brutal.

There's a lot to infer from Frank and Drake as well. It doesn't really hold your hand at all. I sometimes sleepwalk a bit through games, pressing buttons to progress without really putting thought into it, but this game requires more focus. Not by being loud and explosive and direct, but in the silent ways it asks you to put the pieces together. You move through its numerous puzzles without a real roadmap, but they're simple enough that a little bit of thoughtfulness can go a long way into solving what might otherwise be a frustrating thing when rushed. There was a small puzzle I had to do as Drake to make constellations, and I later realized these shapes corresponded with a pamphlet that I had on hand as a reference. I didn't know it then, but these tiny moments of realization tie directly into the narrative, even if they aren't always obvious.

At first, I thought this was a detriment (there were a few parts where I was left scratching at my head, wondering what to do next) but I also realized this was, in a way, user error: I was asking the game to tell me everything, when I should have been paying attention to what it was trying to say.

Longing for more

Frank spends his time chasing his own ghosts. There is a despondency to this – as if he's aware he may never catch them. Drake, meanwhile, moves with reluctance through his troubles, haunted by actual ghosts but lamenting the fact that they're even there. These are characters who have been through a lot, but still manage to exude kindness and a readiness to help, even if it's just to escape their own turmoil. I leveled up their relationship fairly quickly, moving them to intimates by the 3rd day out of a 6-day period, mostly because it felt the natural inclination of the game.

You're able to choose your direction, picking from two options on most days, sometimes more, and these actions affect the story's ending. I only got to one ending, but I was intrigued enough that I'll go back for more. I'm sure there's a load more to explore, but even so, I enjoyed the sparser aspects of the game's narrative. Some of the told stories or insinuated elements remain more elusive, but the art of it all – and the way it conveys these feelings through art – make those unknowns feel purposeful and vibrant, in that we might be able to put our own conclusions together.

I was asking the game to tell me everything, when I should have been paying attention to what it was trying to say.

The development team did a wonderful job with Frank and Drake's story, from the lovingly crafted soundtrack to the intimacy of its art style. Each playthrough offers a different set of options, the branching networks told daily by a small slip of paper. And there is a lot of little communicators in the game, between post-its, memories, hauntings, and journals, this gives us a deeper consideration of these characters, even given the brevity of the gameplay. Frank and Drake provides us glimpses into other lives, reads like a love letter to urbanity, and reminds us that good people are all around us.