Monthly Archives: April 2014

Preach it: Diablo

Dear friends, I’m here to spread the gospel of Diablo.

Only I’m not, really, but I will say that I haven’t played a whole lot of games other than Diablo lately.

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For some reason, the soul sliver CRACKS ME THE HELL UP. You click on it and it threatens your death. In a very deep trying to sound like Benedict Cumberbatch as Smaug voice. DEATH. DEATH. NEPHALEM. DEATH.

My crusader continues to take none of your shit, NPCs. Tyrael informs us that we’ll have to re-enter heaven to find the Angel of Death (thanks for that astounding logic, Sherlock). Emerges is shocked:

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No one likes sewer levels, Blizzard, you cheeky assholes.

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Meanwhile, my erstwhile demon hunter companion is really great at pulling multiple elite groups, usually including illusionists. This, therefore, is my constant fate in this game. You can block till your shield arm falls off but eventually someone’s gonna get a hit on you or you’re going to be walled into three arcane lasers or…

The following conversation usually occurs, in some variation:

Me: PAYBACK. What did you DO.

Payback: It wasn’t me, it was YOU, you … BOZO.

M: LOOK AT CHAT.

Chat: Payback has engaged Dread the Cursed.

P: It’s lying. The game, it lies.

And finally in Diablo land, these poor petrified souls looking for escape prior to death really got to me, BLIZZARD. You’re a sick, sick studio.

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I’m still feeling a bit scattered because all my mind and energy is focused on the fact that I am mere days away from vacation. here’s what the weather looks like next week where I’ll be:

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For comparisons sake, the weather on Cape Cod next week:

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I’m no longer in a MOOD, but if I was, I’m pretty sure I could just roast it out of me under the sun.  The real danger is, HOW WILL I EVER COME BACK.

 

I’m not bringing my computer with me next week, but I am bringing my iPad. So probably, aside from vaguely breathless rapturous posts about California, I probably will only be posting about Limbo and missing Baxter. And then I’ll come back refreshed and ready to write tons and tons more.

I’d be inclined

Hello friends,

Last week was a bit of a wash, which is what I expected when I decided not to make to-do lists. I mean, I was fairly productive in a low key way, but I didn’t really meet or beat expectations. I feel like I’m grading myself on a evaluation. “Does not meet or exceed expectations.”

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Yesterday exceeded expectations. I turned 32 yesterday, and in general I don’t love birthdays because I hate being the center of attention but that just wasn’t the kind of day it was yesterday. It was a lovely day. My brother took me to the Red Sox game, where we got to hang out in the Green Monster SRO and watch many, many interesting drunk people. And also a Red Sox game that was exciting. If you’re going to watch a losing game, having it be an EXCITING losing game makes a difference.

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The aftermath was a bit, um, exciting. I came out of my birthday with more stories than any day I can remember, which is great. In front of us at the game were three friends who I could make up a million stories about because they were so perfectly bros. They also had about ten cans of beer each over the course of the game, but that was nothing compared to the guys next to us. One of them was such a mess at the end that he would pass out mid sip of beer and drool all over himself. They were saying that last year was pretty much the same for them! That’s great. There was the hyperventilating woman that my brother had to rescue in the human crush of folks heading to Kenmore post game (this picture is from shortly before the crowd turned into a crush and I almost panicked, myself). Eventually she was escorted out by a cop who hopefully took good care of her, because she was threatening to scream and that would have taken the situation from awful to dangerous.

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We walked some of the marathon route after looking for an alternate way out of the crush, only to find there IS no alternate way (there is no crossing the route anymore, no way no how). It was inspiring to see the runners and to see their supporters. Also, hilarious to see all the students hanging out their windows, enjoying the spectacle of the day. When we finally trudged back to Kenmore, the crowd had made it out and we were lucky enough to get on a train almost immediately. I say lucky, but really we should have walked, because the train went about 2 feet at a time before stopping for 2 minutes. Copley and Arlington stations were closed, so once you were on the train you were on it till Boylston (I foolishly was hoping things would get better after we made it past Hynes). We got off in Boylston and walked to Park rather than endure the drunken assholes who were on their way to the Fours in Quincy.

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As we walked there, my brother had to track down a medic to aid a runner who had fallen ill on a bench near the Park St. station. The medic asked him, “Well, is he a runner or just a random homeless person?” Um, jerk.

The red line was great, though. And the bus back to Siena, and the drive back to Terry and Lara’s, and the dinner and cake that awaited me there (and the Casey, who basically makes every event lovely and hilarious — he was whispering to his parents about a surprise for me, but a three year old’s idea of whispering is hilariously loud. I love him). And if I feel a bit like the walking dead today, I think it’s a small price to pay for a lovely day.

And anyway, four work days left till I go on vacation.

Mish mash

ME

“Hey, I like it when you’re in a snarky mood,” said my coworker. I had just made a comment (AFTER the customer had left, of course) about how after traveling the endless distance of 20 miles, we’d be sure to have a fainting couch and water ready for her. “I’m always this snarky internally,” I said. “It’s just sometimes my filters are missing.”

My filters are definitely hanging out to dry today. I am in a full on mood. I need to teach, and I need to do some training and I need to stop fretting. That little worry portion of my brain is working overtime again. Endless what ifs and concerns about how other people see me and all sorts of nonsense that does nothing but make me frustrated with myself. I feel defensive, despite no one attacking me. I think it’s because I made the last post, which is fairly personal, and because of that I feel a little exposed. And, being private, it makes me feel delicate, so I feel like I need to bring all my shields up. This introspection stuff is exhausting.

READING:

I am nearly done with Lord of the Rings. The Hobbits have returned to find the Shire in the grips of some unscrupulous people and are about to set to fixing things. I enjoy their total indifference to the threats of the remaining Hobbits & men. These four have been through hell and back, and the threats of their provincial countrymen just aren’t all that impressive anymore. I LIKE that there’s so much to the end of this book, so much celebration and setting to rights. It’s peaceful.

PLAYING:

Last night I played, and this is gonna be a shocker, some Diablo III.

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Everything about this scene cracked me the hell up. That angel appears to be carrying a rocket launcher. Payback, Mumbles and I are standing back to back as if terrified (this was during the scripted intro to the fight). This monster of a boss would fire his rpgs of angelic power into the rafters, bringing fire down on our heads. What an absolute, positive jerk. His little fire laser Lurker Below move was also a jerk move. And Payback’s armor turning red halfway through the fight was pretty great, too. Mumbles would res him anyway, so he just kept dying over and over again. Luckily, jerk face doesn’t do a lot of direct damage so we finished, it just took ten hours.

The issue with D3 is that if I’m not careful, 5 hours will pass and I’ll just be coming up for air. It’s very immersive. “Just one more boss,” I’ll think. “Just one more fight.” Luckily for me, Payback also needs to be off before 10 p.m., so between us we manage to log out at a reasonable hour. We got Jordan to play and Diablo destroyed his computer. So, that was fun.

There are a lot of things I notice in the game. Like, when you’re fighting the body piles spewing zombies around an angel of death channeling some sort of vortex (I had sound off, I have no idea what was actually going on) there were these terrifying stretchy faces coming out of the whirlwind. In the graveyard, there were zombies praying at the memorials, and you can destroy peoples mausoleum style graves. It all felt awful. I enjoyed my crusader’s stark disbelief of the rebels in the city — like, your city is LITERALLY under siege by zombies and an ANGEL OF DEATH and you think this is a good time to rebel against your king? Crusaders are very black and white. There are things that must be done, and that’s what she’s gonna do, death or no, and she hasn’t the time to worry about ramifications or to ponder morality in the moment.

 

Just a few more days — a little over a week — and I’ll be on my way to California. I don’t plan on bringing my computer, just my iPad and phone and a book. It’ll be glorious.

In which Ikea prompts deep thought

It’s the last morning for a bit that I can wake up with the door wide open and actual fresh spring air floating in. Tomorrow we’ll wake up to snow, apparently. t’s mid-April. (My incredulity is out of sync with the fact that I have lived in New England for essentially all my life and know perfectly well that snow in April is not unheard of). Meanwhile, the weather today is my actual favorite — windy, foggy, rainy, dramatic. It’s the kind of grey that makes lit spaces seem friendly and comforting.

After taking a critical look at my piss poor attitude at the end of last week, I decided to be a little bit more forgiving of myself this week.

Here’s the thing. I walked through Ikea yesterday, not because I needed anything but because I wanted to, I wanted to be out and moving. Most people walk out of Ikea bogged down with flat pack boxes, memories of squabbles and getting lost in the enormous building, and exhausted. I walked out feeling like I’d been through an emotional wringer.

And I realized that underneath all of these poor moods is a serious discontent — and a lot of guilt. I burned some bridges when things were bad last summer because I literally didn’t have the energy to not do so. Throwing the match was easier than walking forward. I couldn’t ask my friends for support, because I’m not great at asking for help, and would rather deal with things on my own (relatives call me distant. It’s more, I’m private. Despite all this word vomit here). So instead, I just cut out everyone who wasn’t family. There’s no excuse for it, really. I’ve never really been the best at keeping in touch anyway, so it’s not a one time, forgivable thing. The guilt kind of eats me alive, though. This summer I often didn’t have energy for anything after work, after worrying, after nightmares. The energy required to make an explanation was so unattainable it might as well have been the energy required to get to Mars.

Meanwhile, I’m walking through Ikea yesterday and remembering doing the same thing in DC and it was… Well, spring is when I miss DC, and my life there. And it has been such a tough few years, first with my grandmother and then with all the constant crisis of last year or two that bled through into this year. And I still have sand in my shoes, and still want out. What’s holding me back? Well, I’ve got a good job that has taught me a lot, and I have a dog. He’s not technically mine, but in every way that counts, he’s my dog. We go for walks every day. He turns into my shadow when I get home. He’s waiting outside for me as I drive up to the house, and when I lean down to greet him I have to be quick to avoid adoring kisses.

A lot of my relative paralysis is related to unreasonable guilt, I guess. But I’m slowly moving towards that tipping point. It’s been on the horizon for a while, but it’s growing. And every day I look at Craigslist and every day I sigh as I see the huge, oversize prices being demanded for apartments or even houseshares. It’s spring. I’ve got sand in my shoes and a desire to be, well, outta Cape Cod tonight.

I didn’t walk out of Ikea empty handed because it is much like going to Target. I bought a duvet cover, which I legitimately needed because sometimes Baxter hops on the bed and washing an entire duvet is a pain in the butt. And, because Ikea sheets are cheap and decent, I bought summer sheets (the flannel ain’t gonna cut it once it warms up). And, ok, a little vase. And a plant. And a pot. But I did not succumb to the office chair, desk, or bookcase. Or bedframe. Or pillows. Or new lights. Or candles. Or posters. So all in all, I was proud of my self control.

Anyway. Tonight I have to do taxes. I’ve put them off because of the confusion and preponderance of forms that I have to deal with this year. I could file for an extension because we did get one of the necessary forms only last week, but really I’d just like it off my back. I’d also like to take Baxter for a walk. It looks like the heavy rain won’t start till after dark, so if we’re lucky we can be in the woods before there’s more than a light shower. It is supposed to be very, very windy but after the tough winter I do think that all the weak trees have been weeded out already. It’s survival of the fittest in my woods.

I’m trying to be a bit gentler with myself, as I said, this week, in the sense that I want to leave more time unscheduled to do what I’d like to do (while still keeping up the habits I’m forming). So, essentials, and then freedom. We’ll see how it goes. Even as I type this the lure of a to do list is calling to me. I LIKE to do lists. But they trip me up in the end.

And finally, in my word blast here. I was talking to my coworkers this weekend about how I miss listening to albums. I was on a nostalgia kick with Disintegration by the Cure and I listened to the whole album on repeat for a few days. An album is crafted in an order, you know? And sometimes you have to listen to a song over and over before you realize how much you love it. So as I drove all over the state yesterday I listened to High Violet and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot over and over again. The latter probably didn’t help with the DC missing, since I remember listening to that walking from the metro to my job on Connecticut Ave by Dupont. And High Violet is just the soundtrack to so many of my more thoughtful moments. Sorrow gets me every freaking time, the feeling of staying afloat when things are trying to drag you down (“Sorrow’s my body on the waves…”). I’m not really sorrowful now, but I was not that long ago, and that dragging weight is exactly what it felt like. “Sorrow waited, sorrow won.” So my goal for the week is to give full albums a shot, when I want new music. Let them sink in so someday I’ll look back at April 2014 and remember the music that went with it.

Today’s the anniversary of the Boston bombing. It was a shocking day, and heartbreaking. I was so grateful that everyone I knew was safe and sound, and that as bad as it was, it was not worse. Boston is the city that I love, and for a few breathless days it felt like it was an alien place. The bombing wasn’t my tragedy, but I loved that my city won. I love reading about the survivors talking today about how they felt supported and loved, even as they learned to live life without limbs, or without loved ones. It’s a perspective moment of how lucky we are, in general, here in the US. That’s why it was so shocking, watching the smoke billow and seeing the awful aftermath pictures. That’s not supposed to happen here, and we’re lucky that normally, it doesn’t.

I’ve written enough for the day. I’ll be back to game posts shortly, I’m sure. I just had to feel it out, a little.

Number 40: The random bits.

I’ve been feeling unreasonable for a few days, so I took ‘em off. Obviously it started mid week last week and continued through to, well, tonight. It’s my favorite favorite type of weather (grey, windy, foggy) and I’ve got the doors open and the lights on and it feels quite cozy. The unreasonableness fades.

I did play Diablo III this weekend, and not much else. Well, that’s not true: I played Costume Quest on the iPad till my eyes burned, because Double Fine. And it was great, funny and sweet and a good entry in the Double Fine chamber of my heart. Or mind palace. I think I need a Sherlock style mind palace with two wings — one for books, one for games. And an attic for all the surface trivia that lives in my brain.

Anyway, point being, Costume Quest was great. And now I have the choice of a few games — Monument (broke the really pointless now no new games rule for that one because everyone is talking about it) and finishing Limbo and playing The Wolf Among Us. TellTale games are pretty great, but I am halfway through Limbo and also I’d like to play a game that’s “current” or even, dare I say, “fresh” so Monument is a strong contender (it’s fresh on iOS, anyway).

So, instead of a well thought out entry, here’s some screenshots of games from the weekend. And, er, real life too. Why not.

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I’m not sure how to beat Siege Breaker on Torment II. We couldn’t kill him fast because he reflects damage, and we couldn’t kill him slow because he enraged. Mildly frustrating. I was giving raiding style pep talks. Payback probably wanted to punch me.

IMG_0585Repugian soldiers have some existential doubts about their job, their roles in the game, and life in general. I’d sympathize if they stopped being jerks to me.

 

IMG_0590Delicious, delicious meat cones. Low fat, no carb!

 

And real life:

 

IMG_0784My favorite creepy woods grow creepier. They actually aren’t creepy woods at all, these are the same ones I’ve waxed on about previously, but lately they’ve been setting off all my horror movie sensors. In addition to this random structure appearing a few days ago, there was also the pile of seagull feathers (sans bone, body, or blood) spread out across the leaves. Seagulls are tough! It’s rare to see that many feathers without a squashed-by-car seagull nearby. All felt a bit spooky.

IMG_0787It’s alright, though. The other woods are lovely and enchanting and if they’re magical it’s like, friendly elven magic. (Sorry. I’m neck deep in the LotR. Gandalf is currently leading the fake out assault on Mordor to buy Frodo time).

 

Which is all to say, alright, things are ok.

 

Also, I couldn’t resist the Monty Python nod in the title. That particular episode is my absolute favorite because it features the best sketch of them all, in my humble opinion: the penguin on the television. I probably could have just titled this Burma, or possibly Intercourse the Penguin, but whatever.

Night off with an iPad full of games.

I had the strangest fever dreams last night. Normally my fever dreams are alarming, horrifying and haunting. And other -ing adjectives. Last night, I dreamed of buds bursting into bloom, of bugs carrying flowers on their backs, of a green world. It was all still strange but very peaceful and reassuring. I am the grips of the start of allergy season and my head feels stuffed and full of pressure, so I think my brain was just focused on the cause of it all.

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Lately, I’ve been scheduling the hell out of every waking moment. I tell myself it’s to make sure I keep the new habits I’ve picked up, and partly that’s true. Partly it’s that whole guilt thing, for sure. But partly, I think, it’s because I am scared that if I’m not busy all the time the reality of my small life might sink in a bit.

Most hated level in Limbo yet.

Most hated level in Limbo yet.

Games, games, games

Games, games, games

More games, games, games.

More games, games, games.

 

 

Going to bed so very early tonight, and by so very early I mean within an hour of now. I’ve plied myself with benadryl and The Two Towers (why, honestly, WHY did I not read these before? I should never take advice from my pre-teen self) and a folder full of iOS games to soothe me to sleep.

Am (still) Playing: Diablo III

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Blizzard. Have you been drinking lately? Go sleep it off.

Thursdays are not my favorite days. It’s the midpoint of my work week, and my patience is always ebbing, ebbing, ebbing. I had a one on one this morning with the sweetest customer and yet by the end I just wanted to tear my damn hair out. I look at my to do list and sigh. I think about a walk tonight in the warm air and all I can think of is all the other people who will be there and trying to keep Baxter close by instead of running around. Like, my brain just throws up reason after reason for not doing stuff, most of which are total bullshit.

Luckily (I guess) for me, I went to Catholic school all my life and thus have an endless supply of guilt to leverage against myself. Sure, I may want to go home and read Lord of the Rings on the deck while ignoring all items on my to-do list. But then what about Baxter and his sad little face? He’d be so disappointed if he didn’t get his after work walk. And I may not want to do all the personal admin stuff that I have to do, but I will be unhappier down the line if I don’t. It’s surprisingly effective.

The Catholic guilt didn’t stop me from playing Diablo III last night instead of what I actually had planned. Payback texted me early in the day and said that he was into it, and I should play too. LITTLE DID HE KNOW. “Let’s play Torment,” he said. “Torment IV,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he said.

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I was trying to change my skills. Then I looked up and there was a parade of mobs coming, with more behind these ones. THANKS PAYBACK.

This was pretty much the entire night. I didn’t even bother to take screenshots because I was too busy frantically mashing stuns and blinds to survive. No doubt there are better play styles and I probably could be more survivable if I were better at kiting and aiming my sacred shield, but there was NO TIME. Every second there would be another elite group or mob that wanted to eat me. Arcane Jailer. Teleport reflector with minions. Electrified Mortar. I don’t even know if those were the combinations, it’s all just a blur. I’d be trying to switch out skills and I’d see my health bar dropping as Pay kited eighty more by me.

(When he accepted my BNet friends request, he said: “We’re friends now. Worst day of my life.” What a jerk.)

Am Playing: Broken Age, Shay’s Story

Marek, he of the wolf costume who is not actually a wolf, could use some help with his imagination. Because, you see, I am pretty sure Danger Sector 5 is not a real name, nor Prima Doom. So I want to know exactly what Marek thinks he is pulling here. I am torn between thinking he’s an agent of “Mom” or more likely “Dad”, but then there’s the whole he’s having me disable our own shields thing. By putting headphones on a fusion orb? What is this game.

Anyway, that’s enough Shay for now, I’m heading back to see what’s going on in Vella’s world above the clouds.

Although to be honest I am going to be playing the hell out of D3 for a little while yet. So, perhaps LATER we’ll see some more of Vella’s story!

Am Playing: More Diablo III

You say that, Blizzard.

You say that, Blizzard.

But then they never ever SHUT UP.

But then they never ever SHUT UP.

 

I didn’t have the best weekend in the history of my weekends. I took a rough tumble in the woods (sneaky tree roots, made to trip me up on a hill), and then sat on the deck in the warm April sun to cheer myself up and immediately got a raging sunburn, and then the rest of Sunday was just a mess that I’d rather forget. Except for the few hours I spent at the beach reading LoTR (too cold to be out ON the beach, but I’m a big advocate of car sitting at West Dennis Beach, it’s such a pleasure, with the windows cracked so you can hear the sea and…I’m off track here).

 

So last night, I logged into D3 for some stress relief.

Excellent.

Excellent.

 

It’s a really great game for stress relief. There’s lots and lots of button mashing, and when you’re a melee class there’s something really satisfying about watching the mobs wilt in front of you. The crusader is a tank, so you can take quite a beating (less running frantically) and their abilities look BADASS. I decided I was being a bit of a wimp playing on normal and bumped up to hard to see what would happen (nothing, as it turns out, perhaps I need another bump) (I AM still only in Act II tho).

I like the Crusader. A lot.

I like the Crusader. A lot.

This time around, because I’m taking my time, I’m noticing a lot of things that Blizzard does so very right. As I explored the King’s castle, I was horrified/impressed at the level of detail that the various torture devices had — from the guillotine like ax blades crashing from the walls to the iron maidens and the weird circular … whatever those were. Roasting pits? Quartering machines? Anyway, it’s a thoroughly creepy place. And if you listen to King Leonides’ slow departure from reality via his journals, you see exactly how nuts the man became under the influence of his advisor, Lazarus (who in turn seems to be serving Asmodeus and preparing Belial). And when you first enter that awful dungeon, you are greeted by the ghost of Leonides’ wife, whom he beheaded in a fit of paranoia (you can watch it happen in a ghostly memory). She is, of course, holding her own head up by the roots of her hair to see you better. There’s a Terry Pratchett king in one of the witches of Lancre books who does the same thing, actually.

Don't...even know.

Don’t…even know.

There are blood stains where large, unknown somethings are dragged through doorways.

a PILE OF BLOODY BODIES jesus Blizz.

a PILE OF BLOODY BODIES jesus Blizz.

There’s the crazy cultists, who stand in loose groups and bang their staves on the ground, leaving a dull, hollow booming echoing through the halls. Mobs can break through doors, and you see the door kind of bowing under their hands. The boss fights! The end of Act I is the butcher, who (as Magda taunts you) is standing on the other side of a gate, banging on it with one hand and leaning on it with the other. He yells at you as you kill him that Zombie flesh is nice but HUMAN flesh is even nicer, before trying to grab you with grappling hooks.

I did talk to the Templar. I was disturbed.

I did talk to the Templar. I was disturbed.

Diablo makes you feel epic. This is a game designed to make you feel head and shoulders above all the people you interact with. You are the hero. You are working with the fallen angel Tyriel and you are literally going to save the world from the forces of evil.. WoW tried to do the same thing, but by it’s very mmo nature you are never the central hero, no matter how quests try to make you be so. I know Blizzard wants you to imagine you are one of 25 heroes — like, every mage is one of the (x) mages that helped save the world from (insert bigbaddie here). It’s a great theory, and it helps you suspend your disbelief while questing or possibly within raids, but all the same when you are hanging around in the middle of Stormwind among 100 other mages you just don’t quite have that same feeling.

 

So anyway. Excellent stress relief. Excellent reminder of why Blizzard is really good at making games (legitimate criticism of D3 aside. There’s a lot of that, too. But Blizzard is VERY good at making games, all the same).

 

Tomorrow, more broken age: shay!

Am Playing: Wildstar

WoW has been the king of the MMO world for a long time (even as the MMO world starts to lose some ground to MOBAs and consoles and whatever else you can think) and so every time a new MMO comes out people start asking if it’ll be the WoW killer. So far, the answer has been no, even for the ones with the biggest hype (Star Wars, Guild Wars 2, Aion).

Goats
Wildstar hasn’t been getting that kind of hype, at least that I’ve heard, but I’ve been hearing some good things from people I trust. So I grabbed one of the keys available for this weekend’s stress testing and gave it a shot. For about an hour. So, we aren’t talking in depth play here. I didn’t get a chance to check out PvP or PvE which are both the real makers or breakers of an MMO (a mmo?) But here’s what I was charmed by.

Animals

  • Humor. You know, within a few minutes of starting the game I was told off by a man with one eye and also witnessed an argument between a soldier and a farmer about the advisability of keeping a load of goats on a spaceship. The goats were EVERYWHERE, man. Later, a Queen in a greenhouse had me save some vegetables and replant them. Off I went to do the quest, only to find that when she said save ‘em, she meant because they were sentient. What. I loved them instantly and would have happily saved them for hours.

Deadeye

  • Active combat — I’ve gotten used to auto attack and soaking damage in WoW — you just had to hope you killed what was attacking you before you ran out of health. And mobs being what they were, they pretty much were easy to kill. Wildstar (like GW:2, both NCSoft games) expects you to pay a little bit more attention. You aim your abilities, and the strength of them depends on how well you aim. It’s more forgiving than a shooter — you get a little display of your attack on the ground with a darker color showing how strong it’ll be. If you keep your enemies in the dark blue, you’ll do more damage. You can also dodge, helpful for when your attacker does a strong attack.

Screen Shot 2014-04-04 at 7.13.02 PM

  • Graphics. This isn’t a next gen looking game. MMOs can’t be, since they have to run on many systems. And the thing is, I LIKE cartooney graphics. I liked them in WoW and I like them now. If things aren’t going to look super slick and nextgen (like in, say, Last of Us or Infamous: Second Son) I don’t see the point in making them semi lifelike. I hated that in Dragon Age, it hurt my immersion — and to be honest, despite the beauty of it, I felt the same way about Skyrim. Anyway, I was playing in Parallels and I hadn’t updated the settings for playing games, so my screenshots look a bit shit. Still!
Screen Shot 2014-04-04 at 7.17.07 PM

Fairly sure this is a giant space potato. GlaDOS?

  • Setting: It felt like a mix between Star Wars and Spaceballs and maybe Red Dwarf. Space games that don’t involve piloting and fighting with a spaceship? Yes, PLEASE.

I can’t wait to play more.

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