It is solid, dependable, and underused. Not underused for work – plenty of that gets done on it, but rather, the main purpose for which it was bought, which was gaming.  Like a toaster who toasts, therefore it is, my PC was constructed for the purposes of running the sort of games which have regular PCs slumping back onto fainting couches and fanning themselves while someone loosens their corsets. This little powerhouse was constructed to a top spec after I decided that my ageing and overrated Alienware laptop just couldn’t handle greedy games such as Sims 2 and Oblivion (and burned hotter than the centre of the sun). I was thrilled when it arrived over a year ago and I rigged it up, all shiny and virgin new.

...touched for the very first time...

For a short time, gaming was its life, doing what it was born for until slowly, that purpose faded and it became a repository for pictures, invoices, design work, pornography, and the general detritus which fills most PCs. Instead of doing what it did best, I used it as a work horse and rode it hard. As if to taunt it, while it plods round the mill, strapped into Xara or Photoshop, shelves of games line up above it, looking down, their unwrapped bodies flirting with the plodding creature. Old games, new games, games with boxes as thick as my wrist in alluring packaging. And I never freed it from the bonds of labour and gave it its head to run, to play as it was meant to, to embrace those willing, nubile discs and spin them to climactic heights. And I think in my paranoiac fog, that it swore revenge.

In its own way, the PC has begun to fight back. Sucking in more dust than is credible, it seems determined to kill itself to spite the work which rests in its memory banks. The groan of fans grows on a daily basis, while the unit wheezes, white dust lining every port and vent. I can only glare. It is doing it on purpose. It knows that it takes me forever to unplug everything, wrestle the side panel off without losing my fingers and then use the dregs from our last air canister to jet blast its insides. So I fold my arms. Go ahead, go on. Jump, take the pills, pull the trigger, choke yourself on dust, see if I care. But I do – my bloody book is on there along with a ton of unsaved invoices and product descriptions which will rend my soul in two and disrupt my work irreparably if they were lost. And it knows it. So I find myself on a Sunday morning, the day where I should be firing up a game (on the Xbox) and immersing myself in a far off place, blasting the blades of a dust-choked fan in between intermittent sneezing fits. It takes over twenty minutes to get the side panel back on, but at least I am rewarded with a purr as opposed to an octogenarian moan. The attention seeker got what it wanted and the Xbox is as yet, untouched.

What can a PC do though in the face of such abandonment? After all, once a prolific PC gamer, I jumped ship and took up with the Xbox, with whom the passion never seems to die. I can tell you now, as the dust bunnies hop on to burrows new what it can do. Be as bloody minded as possible. Make my jaunty intermittent return as difficult as it can.  Example: Thief – a much lauded stealth series and one which I have long planned to play. I installed it, read the manual, (natch) and told myself that I didn’t just hear a ‘yeah right, that’s what you think’ in the white noise from my battered speakers. Refused. The PC is too powerful, too fast and the game loops from the main screen back through the intro sequence in split seconds, meaning that no button press, or mouse click can save it and I have to CTL-ALT-DEL out. The disc was led on and then ultimately rejected. Hours later and my anger at a peak; my only attempt at a solution was to download DosBox, blink at it in a confused fog a few times and then turn my PC off in disgust. Point one to the metal box and comforting hugs from my sympathetic Xbox instead.

Sims 3 – The game that hates me as much as I hate it, but play it I will. Except that I won’t. After much wrestling with patches and versions (something the Xbox handles with the charm of an oiled concierge), I finally got stuck into playing. Everything was going smoothly and the PC seemed to get along fine with it. The false sense of security, as was no doubt intended, led me to neglect my saving duties and in a moment that my PC must have been looking forward to since I first shunned it, I got a blue screen. An actual fucking blue screen of death. I didn’t even think that you got those anymore. The mansion that I had spent hours meticulously constructing died before my eyes and my PC yawned and rebooted itself with a ‘What? Something amiss? You weren’t doing anything important were you?’ look on it’s gappy face. Game set and  match, smackdown, Pwned, spanked, sorted, subbed, bitch slapped, broken, defeated. I understand now.

We look at one another. I look at the shelves full of fantastic games, unexplored games, classic games, and old favourites. Why did I ever give them up? I can’t remember now. I narrowed my own gaming horizons because it was easier and when I did try to pry them back open, I paid for it. PC gaming is fraught with difficulty, patching, glitching, the interruption of Anti Virus software, and yet it has given me some of the best gaming memories and most loved games in my all time favourite list. It deserves more respect – after all, the Xbox isn’t without its own temper tantrums and issues.  So the dawn of the third age begins and this box of gently churning metal should no longer sit alone in the night. I have a lot of catching up to do and so far, the tentative ceasefire is holding.

Next week: how my Xbox red ringed itself, green screened, and then vomited circuit boards over the carpet in temper at my epic PC gaming marathon.

Ever since the Ready Up World record attempt back in April, I’ve sunk my time into the game, allowing it to snatch my evenings and consume my weekends while my gamerscore slowly gained a rosy glow under the drip feed of achievements.  To be honest, at first, the game was merely a taste to show support for those playing through 24 hours – after all, driving games had never interested me and cars ‘aren’t my thing’.  All talk of torque leaves me scratching my arse and wishing the Top Gear crew would skip to whatever caravan demolition derby or race that they have planned for this week.  But something strange actually happened here…Burnout Paradise sucked me in within moments and I soon realised that this ‘mere driving game’ was so much more than I had dismissively branded it.  It became indelibly stamped upon my gaming consciousness.

The free-roaming style of the gorgeous open city and surrounds absorbed me with its  events at every junction, enticing smashables, and different gameplay which, instead of having the driver loop tedious tracks, encouraged free choice, exploration, and served the city up as a playground to game or cruise in.  It rewarded the player for not only venturing off the beaten track and testing the hidden nooks and delights, but for being as anti-social as they felt like.

...and a predatory metallic black by night

Online play has typically been something that I have also avoided, muttering endlessly about ‘online achievements’ and ‘unnecessary multiplayer modes’, but again, this game forced me out of my shell of hermitude and into endless online freeburns where challenges were knocked down and the general chaos of the squealing metal free-for-all smashes were the order of the day…and night, and weekend, and holiday until it was all I played, talked about, and saw every time I closed my eyes.

Paradise City began to enslave my soul, haunting my dreams with angry boost bars, tumbling smash gates, and endless, winding tarmac.  Every night, I prowled the foggy streets like a killer with a steel chassis as my frock coat and four Criterion tyres as my tools of evisceration.  Innocent gates cowered beneath my beams and fell even swifter beneath my wheels, while I surveyed the rising body count with twisted euphoria.  Blue jump lights drew my obsessive attention, luring me into alleys and onto dimly lit boardwalks with the promise of orgasmic heights and I was never disappointed…they too succumbed to my urge to claim and collect, the lights laying haphazardly at the scene of the crime while the city swallowed my fleeing predator.

'scuse me love, have you seen a billboard around here?

One of those rare moments was forming where that elusive alchemy between game and achievements was discovered, as progress was rewarded without the game becoming a chore.  It was as well balanced as the tyres on my rebellious Dodge Charger…sorry…’Bootlegger’.  And that’s something else that began to warp and change…words began tumbling from my mouth like a sorcerer’s ribbons…I began bitching about ‘oversteer’, ‘cornering’, and ‘how tight’ something handles.  As the Burning Routes began too, to fall like dominos beneath my relentless determination, I sampled more and more vehicles and the complaints began to come thick and fast… one particularly shitty vehicle ‘handling like a morgue on wheels’ and another committing the crime of being ‘as responsive as a decomposed corpse.’  All this from a darkly dreaming gamer who for months couldn’t even work out how to get onto the damned I88.

Jack and Rosco, the last of the trio who helped me become 'Elite'

Fellow carnage creators and hunters often kept pace with me during those evenings, weekends, and marathon sessions, ripping up the streets, working on achievements and challenges, all the while taunting, laughing, crashing.  Every player seemed to have their favoured tool of choice…The Rook with his Carbon GT Concept leading the way to every challenge like Gandalf for the rest of our questing pack or Libitina’s lethal Peggles…a sadistic pink wrecking ball from hell that shunted many a fearful vehicle into the jaws of oblivion.  That was until Arkham Asylum’s eerie corridors lured them away and the streets of Paradise were lost…and with the lone game as complete as it could be with the reward of my Criterion Elite license, I felt the same way.

A recent visit re-confirmed the odd feeling.  With the smashes gone, the billboards wrecked, and the roads ruled, coupled with the natural migration of fellow gamers and the last proud achievement tucked away, Paradise City is slightly emptier now. Slightly sadder.  For a game that truly captured my time and enthusiasm enough for me to sink endless hours, week after week into it, in a genre that I had never looked twice at, it is quite an achievement that I feel mournful as much as elated…and for all 60 of those achievements, that bauble-less one is perhaps the most impressive.

After any intense and whirlwind experience, the sudden absence  of the swirling elements that precipitated and sustained it leaves an odd and slightly bemused feeling behind.  The Ready Up Glasgow meet is over, and as the empty Mikado packets and cider cans lay mournfully in the basement of Esc, writers, readers, and forumers return home, leaving the dust to settle and the console lights to dim.

Yet it isn’t so much the main event that leaves me feeling melancholy.  After having a house full of bouncing guests, nights of laughter, snacks, games, and chat followed by days of silliness and happy snapping, it has all gone quiet.  After declaring myself to be anti-social many moons ago, I am now forced to rethink, especially as I am now sitting here wondering what just happened.  Wondering why things feel off-kilter.

An old friend who has recently joined the forum along with one writer and two forumers came to stay, bumping our house head count to six.  A pound of bacon, 45 eggs, three loaves of bread, six potatoes, two baguettes, one cheesecake, four packs of Mikado, eight Red Bulls, three bottles of wine, one bottle of rum, two potato waffles, and two haggis later, we are surrounded by game cases, a bare fridge, and the general fallout from six gamers living, laughing, and enjoying themselves.

Slowly one by one, they peeled away.  First we lost Rook, who had to fly home to Belfast, leaving his cheesecake ice cream behind and then Mark B0SS began his long journey back to London, hopefully ending up sitting next to a hot girl on the coach.  Zoey was next, packing up her killer Dark Alice heels and heading for home, and then we were three.  Pete waved goodbye a day later and we closed the door and took stock.  Silence.  No fridge door closing, no giggling or teasing, no laughing, no gaming, no buttons clicking, no achievements popping.  The Xbox was off, the Pyramats were vacant, and the lounge… well, the lounge was a fucking mess, but it was an empty mess.  And it was sad.

Writing for a community site, a curmudgeon like me never actually expected to become part of a community, never expected to really socialise, but slowly it crept into my bones and like Mr Oogie Boogie’s victims, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.  I never expected, as the guest list grew, to feel so sad when everyone started to leave.  I expected to flump onto a sofa and feel relieved, but instead there is an oddly mournful residue.  Seeing an empty cheesecake box, a forgotten Buffy graphic novel or Poi, or the rolled up duvets, gives me pause.  Seeing the Batman: Arkham Asylum game that we were gifted at the last meal positively brings me to a halt.  And that is when it hits me.

Gamer I may be, but anti-social I am not.  No longer can I say that I prefer to lurk in the corner and hide from everyone and part of me hates this treachery.  At this meet, the corner didn’t get a look in as I was too busy talking and laughing.  Ready Up has given me some wonderful friends, some good memories, and an empty fridge, but it has also evolved me from a grumpy, antisocial gamer to something slightly more agreeable.  I still have a love affair with lurking in the shadows, but every now and again, I acknowledge that the light is actually pretty good, provided it isn’t divided into three red ring segments.

So amidst the debris of a gamer-vacated lounge and kitchen, I can just put the sadness aside and stack up the games, wrap up the control pads, and take that secreted pack of Mikado out of the cupboard and tuck in with a smile because I know (or at least hope), like all good evil cyborgs, that they’ll be back.

EyePet is a new virtual pet game for the Playstation 3, offering a true next-gen pet experience which the whole family can enjoy.  Developed by SCEE London Studio for a release this October, I was lucky enough to get some face time with producer and EyePet extraordinaire, Nicolas Doucet who explained the concept and took me through the many features.  While the mere mention of the phrases ‘casual’ or ‘pet game’ may have more seasoned gamers screaming for the hills and the comfort of their Lancer, there is more here than first meets the eye.

Utilising the Playstation Eye camera and an innovative new control device called a ‘Magic Pad’, your new pet comes to life before you, allowing you to feed, clean, play with, and customise him to your heart’s content.  Interaction is very much the name of the game and you are encouraged to fuss over and tease your pet, utilising either the range of toys provided or drawing new ones which come to life, spawning a variety of amusing reactions and mini games.

The pet itself is the most important part of the game and so the look and feel had to be just right.  While it appears kitten-esque in its movement, with an almost simian look to its face, it is purely a fantasy pet.  According to Nicolas, “Realistic and believable are two different things”, and while they wanted to avoid the creature looking too real (and therefore veered away from the traditional puppy or kitten template) the team took great pains to create a fantasy creature which was still ultimately believable.

At the start of the game you begin with an egg which serves as a tutorial of sorts to allow the player to acclimatise to the controls.  The moment in which your EyePet finally hatches was very much a labour of love for Nicolas and his team who wanted “… a real Bambi moment.”  The emotional scene is closely guarded and wasn’t on show at the event in order to preserve the surprise and the emotional connection that the team want the player to forge with their newborn pet.

As is often the case with such games, regular tasks such as care and feeding can become tedious, causing people to lose interest.  To avoid the ‘chore bore’ syndrome, tasks such as feeding have been turned into a mini game and benefit from a more open structure.  For example, your pet can be fed from a bowl or you can shower his treats over him, making him jump and play for them.

Nicolas was keen to reinforce the idea that “We are not making a sim, we are making a pet game.”  So the player will thankfully find no stat managing or dry chores here as the last thing that the developers wanted was the player getting bogged down.  With a game such as this, it has to be easy so that anyone, regardless of age can embrace the gameplay without getting tripped up with any complexities.

Realtime progress works in a similar way to that other time swallowing game, Animal Crossing… if you don’t switch your PS3 on for a few days or opt to neglect your pet, then there will be consequences.  No death, don’t panic – Sony have wisely avoided the risk of devastated youngsters writing tear soaked letters after they get back from their holiday at Nan’s to find a fly ridden pet corpse.  So instead, you will be met with a sulky, hungry, grubby pet whom you will need to coax back to happiness with many noms and some attention.

When it comes to your pet’s health, rather than dull stats and the usual meters and gauges, you simply hold up the Magic Pad and scan your pet, producing an X-ray which shows his health and needs.  It was a great touch and strengthens the appreciation of the effort that the developers have made to enliven usually tedious tasks and interfaces.

The game’s control is half the fun with EyePet and most of the time, simply involves the Playstation Eye camera and the ‘Magic Pad’.  This special pad (which somewhat resembles a beer mat) calibrates itself to your floor and is the key to your whole EyePet experience.  While menus can be accessed via the controller if you wish,  the idea is to manipulate the virtual menu using your hands to swipe through the options.  While in reality you are groping at thin air, on screen, your hands are deftly manipulating the menu system in a very space-age manner. 

For Nicolas though, the controls were more about considering their audience. “We had to think like someone who has never touched a game… we had to step back and completely rethink everything” – meaning simple but comprehensive controls were the order of the day.

Other games and toys include bowling where your pet amusingly becomes the ball which you have to line up and release, a game of snap, and a treadmill among other things.  I only got to play around with the trampoline and the bowling but they were entertaining enough, especially with the little squeaks and actions.

While the level of interaction with the Magic Pad and camera are impressive, the game goes a stage further – thanks to the mic, the pet also reacts to sound, so when he is dozing, he can be woken up by loud noises.  Sound can also be used to control him – clapping your hands for example can make him jump – something which has been neatly incorporated into the treadmill toy to get him to leap hurdles.

Where other games allow you to choose your breed of cat or dog, the benefit of a fantasy pet is that customisation comes very much barging to the fore, with EyePet laying on a raft of options.  The player can airbrush colours directly onto their pet and choose the fur length and the pleasant colour palette will satisfy even the most wild tastes.

The clothing options are legion – everything from cowboy costumes to space suits are present, giving players a fantastic chance to really go to town and make their pet individual.  Clothing and gear can be unlocked by playing the game and Nicolas intimated that more would be available at a later date via the Playstation store at prices which reflect the young target audience.

Customisation doesn’t stop at your pet though – several of the toys can be made your own.  Simply hold up a photo or image to the camera and scan it in and the picture will appear on the target.  I was told that it is possible to make a ball pond of balls with your own choice of image on… so for the depraved, you can have a ball pond full of orbs bearing the likeness of David Beckham, your backside (same difference perhaps), or a picture of your favourite game character or logo.  No doubt this feature will be used to great effect as people fill up ball ponds with pictures of their bare arse, boobs, or anything else they can whip out in front of the camera, but for big kids everywhere, I suspect that this will be half the fun.

One feature that caught my attention were the dreams.  Emotional moments in your pet’s life are recorded as 5 or 6 second clips and saved as memories, so that when he finally drifts off to sleep, he dreams these events and you get to see them being played back.  The record facility has other uses and you can opt to record a short video of your pet which can be uploaded and shared, meaning that those amusing, weird, or poignant moments can form a record of his life.

The versatile little creature can also be taught to sing by humming a tune into the mic, whereupon he will sing the melody back to you.  Unfortunately, due to the noise in the hall, I wasn’t able to see this demoed, but it is one of the features that I am very keen to play with and I can guarantee that my pet to be, Loki, will be warbling House of the Rising Sun before the discarded packaging has had time to settle beneath the coffee table on Christmas Day.

One of the most innovative features by far though, was the sketchbook.  By drawing a toy such as a plane or boat either whole or in its component parts and scanning it, the pet will take out his crayon and pad and copy your creation.  The pieces pop out, become 3d, and slot together to form something he can play with.

The design of the vehicle toys is entirely up to you, so if you don’t want propellers on your plane or only want three wheels on your car, it’s your call – the developers were keen to make it so that there is no ‘wrong way’ of creating anything – the player isn’t here to be punished.  Due to the creative nature of this element, like the scanning of pictures to customise items, uploaded user created clips will be moderated, presumably to prevent the plethora of flying cocks which will no doubt be created within hours of the game hitting the shelves.

The beauty of EyePet though, wasn’t necessarily its impressive and charming features, but rather the little things, the minutiae which made it a pleasure to both watch and play.  Details such as the pet’s hair moving when being blow dried, his spiky matted hair when he needs washing, and the way the screen ‘steams up’ when you finally get him under the shower.   I couldn’t fail to be intrigued and touched by the EyePet, nor could I fail to respect the attention to detail which has gone into bringing this next gen virtual pet to life while keeping it fun.

What at first glance may seem like a shallow but cute game actually has more depth than one would credit it with and Sony have gone great guns to make it absorbing and entertaining without ever being a chore.  With the option to download extra bits at a later date and perhaps even expand online, this game has potential to be a lasting slice of fun rather than an Autumn or Christmas time filler.  The ability to interact with a friend’s pet online would be a huge seller which will be missed but we will perhaps just have to wait; until then though, there is more than enough to get stuck into.

Younger players will fall in love and become absorbed almost instantly, older players will secretly have a go when the kids are in bed, and folk like me will buy it anyway and not give a damn about getting ‘funny looks’.  This game is a hit waiting to happen, so if you are a parent or long suffering partner, kiss goodbye to your TV for the foreseeable future because come 23rd October, your precious flat screen will be the sole domain of an EyePet.

Many thanks to producer Nicolas Doucet for spending so much time sharing my delight, enthusing, and answering questions and to Chris McCann, Sony tech expert, for getting us some on stage time.

Ready Up stealth mode abandoned...

We had kindly been granted full access to the event which aside from the main hall included a lively lecture schedule and a number of screenings.  Add to this the fact that the complimentary copy of FHM from our delegate packs featured a rather fetching picture of Eliza Dushku, and we knew that despite our initial setbacks, this was destined to be a good day after all.

After sidling past the vast inflatable Mini Ninja boss in the foyer who was giving us an odd look, we scuttled into the main hall to see if we could get some quality game time on anything.  We were immediately impressed by the Wii Sports Resort Beach Party which dominated the centre of the hall.  Dressed in true cabana style and complete with sand, palm trees, and a live calypso band, it was a hive of activity with every booth swamped by canoe paddling, bow wielding gamers.  Even the queue to enter the basketball hoop competition was spilling out onto the main floor (along with some of the sand).  Ice lollies were being handed out and enthusiastic reps were fielding questions and joining in with the visitors to demo the game.  £150 worth of Gamestation vouchers were up for grabs for the person who could sink the most hoops but the queue was too long and we decided rather magnanimously that we couldn’t snatch victory from a youngster and make them cry, so we kindly refrained from entering.  How nice of us.

Around the periphery of the hall, solid offerings from Eidos such as Mini Ninjas and Batman Arkham Asylum meant that getting some hands on time was always going to be tough unless we stunned the queuing gamers ninja style and stashed them behind the Batman display.  Deciding however, to be merciful and not wanting to answer to angry mothers who had brought their kids along for the end of the school holidays, we moved on to scout out the rest of the hall, vowing to be back.  After trying to resist the lure of deck chairs laid out enticingly under the palm trees in the Wii Sports Resort beach area, we spied some interesting new releases.

One of these was a new MMO by the name of APB.  APB is an upcoming city based action MMO developed by Realtime Worlds, with the game design led by David Jones (of original GTA and Crackdown fame).  It involves law enforcement and criminal gangs and looks set to be an explosive and entertaining game resembling the love child of GTA and Crackdown with Saints Row for an uncle… definitely one to watch out for!

Dan at the APB stand with some tasty scenery

Our attention kept being drawn to the centre of the hall and the Wii playing public.  My hate affair with the Wii actually began to waver slightly when I saw the archery game being demoed and I secretly vowed to sneak back on day two so that I could monopolise one of the booths without boring Dan who was being drawn inexorably to the main stage.  When I finally stopped coveting the comfiest deckchair from a five year old who had no idea of my brewing eviction plans, I turned round and saw what had caught Dan’s eye at the far end.

On the large screen atop the stage was a little creature in a leather pilot’s hat, bouncing happily on a trampoline which was being slid around by the hand of a gamer at the small table.  It was an EyePet.  Like all cynical gamers, the moment I saw it I assumed it was a gorgeous but fluffy gimmick, but as we approached the stage and craned over the enthusiastic group which had gathered, we swiftly realised how wrong we were.

EyePet is developed by SCEE London Studio to be released for the Playstation 3 this October and is a Christmas hit waiting to happen if Sony market it right.  Chris McCann, a tech expert from Sony very kindly got us some play time with the EyePet and some one to one chat time with producer Nicolas Doucet, whose passion for his game was contagious.  By the end, I came away impatient at the prospect of having to wait for the release, which for a reforming apathetic gamer, was nothing short of amazing.

Lorna with Nicolas Doucet enjoying the EyePet demo

EyePet is a pet game whose genre description belies and somewhat sells short its impressive nature.  At first we couldn’t even see how the gamers on stage were interacting with the gambolling creature – they were waving their hands, dangling lanyards over an empty table and tapping to tease and play with the on screen pet… and that was the point.  There was no actual controller as such.  A combination of the Eye Toy camera and the ‘Magic Pad’ allow you to generate a virtual pet which is displayed on the screen as being just inches in front of you.

All your EyePet are belong to Ready Up...

It responds to your touch, teasing, and even sounds, plays with toys, and most impressively, interacts with vehicles which you draw and scan in with the camera, which then spawn mini games of their own.  An example of this was the plane… parts of an aircraft were drawn and held in front of the Eye Toy camera which were then copied by the pet onto his own sketch pad.  The pieces popped out to become 3D parts and formed a plane for him to fly, popping balloons as he squeaked and circled upwards.

Each pet is fully customisable with haircuts, a palette of lush colours to airbrush him with, and a wealth of costumes and clothes.  Caring for him is obviously part of the game, but it is never a chore as there is no one way to do anything and the pet’s endearing responses made it genuinely a joy to watch.  So much thought and attention have gone into the simplest of actions and responses, that the game offers a real connection to this virtual pet and the use of the Eye Toy and microphone have allowed some amazing features to be realised.

Forget Pokemon, Tamagotchi, and Nintendogs – EyePet is the new bundle of fur on the block and unless Microsoft produce a real life Horstachio from their hat as a Christmas release, this game will be on more than just my Christmas list – in fact, the Ready Up Juniors will be prising it out of my hands come review time.  Dan and I were so impressed with the demo and our long talk with Nicolas, that when I was flying solo on day two, I immediately made a beeline back to the stage for more.  I gave up on the idea of squeezing all the details and elements of EyePet into this feature, so expect a detailed piece in the next few days as I try and outline just what lengths the developers have gone to in order to make a truly touching virtual pet game for the whole family.

The 'Magic Pad' is the smart key to your EyePet experience

After tearing ourselves away from the little creature who was being used as a bowling ball to knock over some skittles, we headed off for lunch.  Dan and myself, along with a Ready Up forumer from Esc who had hitched a ride, headed for a nearby sports bar for the only food we could track down – pizza.  Luckily, Dan had brought emergency supplies – namely a laptop, a fighting stick, Street Fighter game pad, and Street Fighter 3 and 4, so in true gamer style we spread out over two tables and the fight commenced until the food arrived.

With lunch concluded, we tucked our bellies into our belts and headed back to the venue in time to catch the end of a lecture by Kristian Segerstrale on ‘Lessons from Social Games’ and then made our way into the main hall.  We spotted a lull at the machines and took advantage of some quality time with two of Eidos’ eagerly awaited releases.  Dan took point and waded into the colourful world of Mini Ninjas which was previewed by fellow Ready Upper Mark and involves young Ninja, Hiro battling evil with the aid of his trusty sword and some magic.  Dan made some vague attempts at playing properly before deciding to abandon the intended game path and instead, pursued an innocent fox around the village, attempting to flatten it with a large mallet.  For shame.

Dan attempting to corner the fleeing fox...

My turn started off equally well intentioned before the lure of evil-doing became too much and I hypocritically chased a cluster of chickens with a sword.  When I realised there was no possible way to slaughter them, I managed to spirit myself into the body of one instead and actually laughed out loud, drawing some odd looks.  I flapped around, accidentally laid an egg when trying to attack another chicken who had ‘looked at me snidely’ and went to search for another creature to possess.  Eventually deciding to play properly, I turned back to Ninja form before disturbing a hive while shaking fruit from a tree and ended up with a swarm of bees chasing me.  More practise will certainly be needed if I’m to pick this one up for the Xbox 360, but it will be a more welcome break from the darker titles due out later in the year.

Lorna takes some time out with the Dark Knight

After some dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight in the sinister corridors of Arkham Asylum, the Joker sadly got the upper hand too many times for my liking and we decided to call it a day.  Batman Arkham Asylum has already had some ‘hands-on’ coverage by my fellow Ready Uppers Simes, Shaz,  and Mark, during its development but I will say that the environments were atmospheric and absorbing and I very much look forward to playing it once I have sensibly read the manual.  I still staunchly maintain this is why I couldn’t get out of the hospital section, because, being sans manual, I couldn’t work out how to kill anyone so there were a lot of dazed clowns staggering around instead.  We tore ourselves away from the hall, with me grudgingly refraining from attempting to make off with the Batman display, pod and all – if Dan had just provided a decoy, I could have done it.  I was rather hoping that there would have been a life sized Harley Quinn statue that I could have sneaked out with but sadly not.  And so endeth day one…

On day two, with my other half in tow as official bag holder, coat stand, and photographer, I immediately trekked across the sandy Wii Sports Resort Beach Party area to try my hand at archery before it got too busy.  Not a big Wii user, (in part, thanks to getting a vicious bowl-cut in Animal Crossing from which I never recovered), I was initially highly sceptical.  However, one of the resort exhibitors, Ryan was kind enough to introduce me to the game and the Wii Motion Plus which comes packaged with it and some of my reservations melted slightly, as to my surprise, I actually enjoyed it.  I have always found the Wii Mote a skittish nightmare which has had me screaming for the comfort of a proper controller and for any other game, my view remains the same… but for this, it works like a dream.  Forget tennis – Sir Cliff can keep it and the strawberries it skidded in on…Wii Sports Resort boasts 12 new and arguably more exciting sports to play with nary a hint of ‘Living Doll’.

At Ready Up we not only play games but we kick arse at archery

My archery skills were pitted against Ryan’s (who had of course been practising for two days) but for a novice, I put on a surprisingly good show.   I also learned that a private competition was running between the Beach Party staff as to who could get the highest score in archery over the course of the event.  With the luck of Ready Up perhaps rubbing off and my newly discovered archery skills offering some good competition, Ryan topped his score to a high of 113 points, leaving his colleagues despairing and me, although beaten, pleased for him.  I didn’t get a chance to paddle a canoe or shoot hoops but watching everyone else throwing themselves into it was entertaining.  Even my Wii Phobic other half was genuinely drawn in and for him to admit to wanting to give the game a go, it must have been good – so much so that I’ll admit to slipping it onto my Christmas list.  The sports are far more interesting and engaging than its predecessor and with the aid of the Wii Motion plus and the innovative use of the Wii Mote for paddling, drawing a bow, or swinging a sword, it was a far more appealing prospect than its older kin.

I was doing fine until wind shear became a factor...

After some more time mini ninja-ing, we spent a hefty chunk of time at the EyePet demo again which I had been enthusing about on the train all the way to Edinburgh that morning.  Nicolas Doucet recognised me from the previous day and came over to spend more time talking with us about the game and its features, giving me further fuel for an upcoming feature.  By the end, I had already planned a name for my intended pet and was bantering with my other half as to whose would look better… (Loki, my pet to be, will win paws down I can assure you.)

Sadly, before too long,  Edinburgh Interactive for Ready Up was over until next year but thanks to a good two days, I now have several games to add to my ‘want’ list and even more to keep an eye on.  After a foot wearing few days, I just wanted to get home and put my feet up on the beach, play some lazy rounds of archery, and dangle my lanyard and pass for my little Loki… but sadly, I’ll have to wait.  It wasn’t until I got in, that I also realised that Dan still had my delegate pack from the previous day in his laptop case, so I didn’t even have the Eliza Dushku interview to console myself with.  Damn it.

A trail of gaming corpses stretches back into the mists of my personal history – the sad plastic remains of games that might have been.  Some are classics, others cult favourites, mainstream mashes, and general detritus which at the time made my eyes shine as I devoured the boxart and blurbs, absorbed reviews, weighed up my feelings and gave in to my want.  They still remain – sad, dusty grave markers lined on my shelves like preserved mummies in some Bradbury-esque catacomb.

Every now and then I trail my idle fingers over them and feel the want to play them struggle inside.  I feel the potential enjoyment, imagine the playing in my head, and then I step back.  They won’t live tonight.  The tools for their reactivation lay within reach – console paddles to fire a charge through these waiting wonders to let them breathe at last.  But I sit back and merely content myself with how they look, captive on my shelves.  At last count there are over 67 PC games alone, some of which were started but never finished.  Retro games such as SNES, N64, and Game Cube are legion and DS and Game Boy games lurk in every drawer, shelf and cabinet like a serial apathy-gamer’s macabre collection of trophies.  The desire to play was never as strong as the desire to possess once apathy had washed over everything and any hint of depression, distraction, or pure laziness was enough to derail the best of intentions until the piles mounted and the body count click, click, clicked out of control.

Now the off putting thing is the sheer weight of gaming history now staring accusingly back at me – the lost hours and frittered weeks, months, and years can never be recaptured and there are just too many now.  Where would I start?… the fruitless exercise of even trying feeds into this poison.  I’ve even forgotten where some of the bodies lay now, while others are simply too old to be successfully reanimated – their OS window of life having long faded.  So with this ridiculous weight now built up, I have another reason to remain in my chair, fading under this more evolved strain of apathy.  So many of these games I know I would love.  Six 360 games alone are vying for first place in my must play/can’t wait to play list, but always I will busy myself with nothing – watching sand slip between my fingers while they too, slowly age like so many victims before.

Occasionally…just occasionally, a pin prick of light stirs the dust and I lift my weary head and take note.  No longer is mere apathy loosed upon my world…and what rough beast, it’s hour come round at last, slouches towards the dashboard to be reborn.  A game from a long time past, from more pro-active gaming times when Workbench and Directory Opus reigned, emerges.  I found myself switching on my Xbox with greater purpose and this phase, this trough among the shallow peaks of my gaming activity began to warp and change and splutter to a halt.  The game was over too soon, and when the socket clicked off and the screen darkened, I had to take stock.  Do I let the feeling slip away again, or do I let this sudden clarity hold sway against the poison?  Do I play on, do I continue?  Can I face the insurmountable task of catching up on the havoc that apathy has wreaked on my gaming life all these years?  Dare I?

So much to do and increasingly very little time.  But these worlds and their whispering grow stronger now, my new purpose catching their slumbering attention and they won’t be let slip into the night.  Shadow of the Colossus, Beyond Good and Evil, Pikmin 2, Age of Empires, GTA, Tomb Raider, Phoenix Wright, Tekken, Ocarina of Time, Resident Evil 4, Fahrenheit, you shall live and you’re just the start.  But first…this guiding light from the past which has driven back the fog needs to be honoured with just one more play.  And suddenly, the weight lifts.  Whether I make this my last remains to be seen.  It would be such a waste – I can salvage something from this wreckage of a gaming life…they can’t all be saved and played, but enough can to ensure that this second coming of my gaming focus is here to stay.

There are some games that we may adore but for some reason we feel compelled to hide them,  sealing them with crooked bits of wood into the attic like a mutant cousin lest they cast shame upon the family name.  Games that when someone asks you what you’re playing, you’d rather flash a cover of a game featuring a Sid Vicious type in hobnailed boots kicking a granny to death to show your hardcore status than admit to fashioning Pokeballs out of seeds or taking photos of fish.  And between… well, all of you and me, I actually enjoyed taking photos of fish.  Yes, Sea Life Safari is one of my ’shame games’.

Settled in my chair with a blanket around my legs, the floaty music lulls me into a trance state while I idly snap colourful fish from my little submersible, scan for golden sea-shells and simply drift.  Last time I played, it was so relaxing that I very nearly ended up mushed and drooling into my Pyramat – it is just that peaceful.  Had I been piloting a real submersible, I would have been spiralling into an abyss to join Ed Harris and some see-thru aliens.

Try and explain it to someone else however and it doesn’t translate well.  It’s a game in which you take pictures of fish?  Yes.  That’s it?  Yes. I can’t dress it up any more than that when it comes down to it – it is simply Pokemon Snap underwater with a helping of vallium… and I bloody loved it.  But then for someone who went to the shiny and exciting IMAX in Glasgow only to fall asleep and start dribbling during some underwater film, it is no surprise that this game pushes my relax button in an inexplicable way.

Posing 101

Games like this are like a balm for the wounds of war after your crop of hardcore mainstream games have ridden you hard and put you away wet.  And if you think about it, most folk have at least one.  For some, it may be Pokemon breeding in the various incarnations of the game, others may dabble in jigsaws on XBLA, and still more may be sleuthing with Nancy Drew or enjoying America’s Next Top Model on the DS.

So I’ve unbarred the attic and turned over a card in my shame game hand.  Snicker all you like, but I bet somewhere, somewhere dark, somewhere hidden, you have one too.  No?  Liars.

Many incarnations later, squatting firmly in the bunker of the artillery genre with strategy as it’s boot boy, Worms 2: Armageddon builds upon the strengths of it’s predecessor and ups the ante with a handful of Banana Bombs for good measure.  The aim of the game is simple – your quartet of plucky annelids have to obliterate the opposing team by any means afforded to them and believe me, the range of weapons should satisfy even the pickiest general.  Traditional staples such as the Bazooka and Cluster Bomb are all present and correct and fan favourites such as the Holy Hand Grenade and the Concrete Donkey make a welcome return after their bitter absence from the first XBLA game.  As ever, strategy plays a big part in a player’s choice of weaponry and the usual Girders and Blowtorches remain for the ‘Dark Side’ players.

The environment may look stunning, but isn’t always friendly – water means sudden death and wind shear will affect most shots (though more practised players will learn to use it to their advantage to pull off some nasty kills).  The cartoon style backdrops now also appear in vertical form, lending a new twist to some challenges and are as fully destructible as ever, with the added hazard of fire weapon fallout eating insidiously away at it, scorching Worms as it goes.  The lush palette and over the top themeing make the crisp landscapes a pleasure to blow apart and along with the expanded cacophony of ridiculous voices and crisp sounds, imbues the whole thing with a genuine sense of addictive fun.

35 single player levels will more than keep the player’s hands full and completing these earns gold which can be spent at the in-game shop on special weapons, silly hats, or even extra levels.  The single player campaign also includes puzzle levels which are both innovative and frustrating, requiring the player to solve problems or traverse the level with only limited weaponry or utilities, but which offer a welcome respite from the rigours of war.  Anyone venturing into the invertebrate strewn no-man’s-land of Live will find four new multiplayer modes, including Forts, with a flotilla of customisation options for those four player death scrums and of course, ranked two player matches which come with some gritty achievements.  Even the training levels have been given a lick of paint with some nifty extras such as Worm dummies to abuse (and if you’re devious, use for achievements).

It seems that the whole game is brimming with new features.  New additions to the voice sets and landscapes, unlike the first game and it’s iffy requirement for the player to pay for extras, are packed in here as standard.  In fact, choice seems to be very much the name of the game with the player given a wealth of cheeky customisation options ranging from bizarre hats, victory dances, and skins to add to the usual wacky voices and gravestones.  A ‘cheese head’ hat or a ‘Grandpa’ speech set may mean nothing to some but you’d have to have a heart of stone not to crack a grin at the zany buffet laid out here.

It isn’t all brandy and cigars before curfew though – multiplayer is still proving buggy for some, several achievements are glitched and the rather bizarre intrusion of avatars between turns is both pointless and irritating, seeming oddly out of place  and serving only to slow down play, even if it is by one more button press.  For the more cynical, this is essentially more of the same -  anyone that has played any of Worms’ past incarnations will know the drill and when you strip back the baubles and new modes, it is the same game.  Again.  But it’s a damn good one, which makes all the difference.

Whether you’re dedicated carnage creator or simply fresh meat, you’ll find something worthwhile here.  The thought that has gone into refreshing a game which (let’s be honest) has not really changed for over 15 years, is obvious and appreciated – especially as we are once more being asked to pay 800MSP.  So leave your cynicism at the door, don your Alien Antenna and prepare to take cover, because there is a pale sheep trundling over the horizon, the Worm that sits on him is Death, and Armageddon follows with him.

Set in the year 1939, Indiana Jones® and the Staff of Kings™ follows the rogue archaeologist on an all-new globe-trotting quest.  A gauntlet of breathtaking locations await the intrepid player, from San Francisco’s Chinatown to the lush jungles of Panama.  Indy must use his whip, fists, and wits to fight through ruthless opposition as he spars with his nemesis, Magnus Völler, in a race for a relic of biblical proportions – the Staff of Moses.

Move aside Ms. Croft and let the original expert show you how it's done

For the first time ever, you can wield your Wii Remote™ like Indy’s signature whip to get yourself out of sticky situations, and a cooperative gameplay mode allows you and a friend to brave the challenges together – after all, every hero needs a sidekick!

The WiiMote allows you to become immersed in the whip-cracking action

With more than 20 artefacts and rewarding unlockables to discover, no wannabe archaeologist will be disappointed, so don your Fedora and prepare for Indy’s latest and possibly greatest adventure.

Thanks to the generous souls at Lucas Arts, Ready Up has 5 copies of Indiana Jones and the Staff Of Kings for the Wii (also available on DS, Sony PSP, and Playstation 2) up for grabs!

Just answer this simple question to be in with a chance of winning:

What was the name of Indy’s dog?

a) Indiana
b) Hooch
c) Junior

Send your answer to this email address to be entered into the draw. Competition closes Friday 3rd July.

Good luck, Ready Uppers!  Losers will be thrown into the Well of Souls wearing a flimsy nightie.  (Not really, we jest.  It’s in for dry cleaning anyway).

Naughty corner is merely the beginning...

Guides have been a part of the industry for many years now, slipping from the tips pages of gaming magazines and onto the shelves but in an interesting turn, guides themselves are becoming collectable in their own right, often being presented as ‘Limited Edition’ or ‘Collectable’.  Matt-encapsulated, foil embossed, or spot varnished covers delight, seducing you past their price tag with their looks, while textured paper, in-theme styling, extensive backgrounds, maps and concept art are all must haves with an increasing number of guides offering more than just dry lists and blurry maps.

Sadly, not all that glitters is gold and while some of them look the part, often they disappoint or don’t go as far as they could do – regular guides in designer clothing if you like.  Mirror’s Edge, for example, led me on.  I sympathise that it isn’t the easiest game to write a guide about, especially when it comes to the tricksey time trials, but still, it was messy.  Sadly, due to the frenetic pace and style of the game, the advice it gives often just boils down to:  go left down there and jump over that thing in front of you… no, no, the other one – there that’s it, now head for the building with the blue stripe under the thing with the orange sign bit there… no, the other one… oops, you died.  Not ideal.  I managed to glean exactly ONE piece of useful shortcut advice from the poorly laid out mash, so aside from the (beautiful) concept art and the interesting behind the scenes pieces, it is little more than shelf candy.  A trophy guide if you like.

Practically pretty in every way... almost

Others, such as the Fable 2 Limited Edition Guide also suffer from beauty over brain syndrome at times and whilst it comes paired with a stunningly beautiful art book, the main guide (while indeed very useful) is slightly flawed.  At least one silver key is marked down in the wrong location (a true crime for a collectable item relating to an achievement) and the maps are occasionally tricky to follow.  Fallout 3’s meaty tome suffers from no real index and has a rather cluttered feel, but this arguably suits the style of the game as it is almost presented like someone slipped a mine into a guide’s pocket and caught the resulting explosion in a hardback notebook (earning Psychotic Prankster 10G on the way).  Perhaps I just need to come to terms with it and not expect so much from special or limited editions.  After all, if I can import a DVD or game that I can’t play on a PAL machine just because it is a limited edition, why shouldn’t guides be the same?

So is it worth getting a collectable guide when a normal one would suffice?  Collectability aside, surely a regular one would do the job and do it well?  Not always.  Some guides, while doing the job of being useful and nothing more, can still prove problematic, with tiny greyscale maps and advice which doesn’t bear out under playing.  It has come to the point where I have actually re-written guides by scoring out inaccurate (or in my opinion) flawed advice and writing my own.

With a red biro, you can change the world...

Other regular guides serve another purpose and while not collectable or overly useful, are still worth picking up.  The Sims (2 and 3) guides are more like reference books with lists; general gameplay hints which act as more of an extension of the inadequate manual.  Pokemon is the same, presenting a sort of catalogue of the game’s wares for you to browse and compare before you set off with a knapsack full of Pokeballs.

Aside from getting stuck, I mostly use guides for collectable items (such as the last teasing few in the Lego games) or for following quests that I know damn well I will never revisit and want to get everything picked up the first time… i.e the gargoyles and keys during Fable 2’s Wraithmarsh quests.  Practical use aside though, it’s always nice to have something a little more collectable to perhaps justify the clutter but now it has bred a certain expectation – thanks to the efforts of the few, I have an almost indignant expectation for the many to fall into line and make an effort with something more special.  I always get a tad disappointed when a game which would suit a fancy guide (and not all of them do) doesn’t bother.  RPGs, adventures, and games which either ooze character or make a song and dance about their stories would do well to make a decent stab at a special or limited edition guide.

Fable 2 showing how it should be done

The few that do step up are the guiding light for this unfurling niche and long may it continue… because when Elder Scrolls 5 (if ever) finally arrives, I want a leather bound, parchment stuffed tome so heavy that I could use it to beat planets to death before placing it in a glass display case beside Fable 3’s Normanomicon, Tomb Raider: Afterlife’s suede journal guide, and Bully: The College Years’ school dossier style book.  Hope is a fine thing.

According to a small nugget of news on C&VG this week, a listing for the ‘Special Edition’ Xbox 360 re-release has appeared on the German USK Rating Board, sparking feverish speculation about a bigger official reveal at the upcoming E3.  With some undoubtedly prepared to dismiss the news as wishful thinking, those of us who remember the Amiga classic with the sort of misty-eyed nostalgia usually reserved for Werthers Original sucking pensioners, are going to be screaming their joy from the rooftops.

LucasArts’ The Secret of Monkey Island was released in 1990 and fast became a classic, with its quirky humour, hopeless lead, and a cast of odds and bods all serving alongside the imaginative puzzles to paint the entire game with a particular vibrancy that has rarely been matched since.  Many aspects of the game, from its self-aware nods, to the famous insult sword-fighting have gone down in gaming history as much as Guybrush Threepwood himself and his quest to become a pirate.

With the current generation of touchy-feely control schemes such as the DS pointer and the WiiMote, one would have expected Guybrush and his nemesis to have reared their heads before now, especially in these days of the cynical fast buck and retro cash-in mania… but there has only been silence from Mêlée Island ™.  At least until this exquisite sliver of information slipped onto the internet.  Could the rumours be true?  Dare we doubt the Germans and their fearsome ratings board… after all, they are hardly likely to have pulled perhaps the cruellest belated April prank conceivable are they?

So what then… is it true?  Will we be swilling Grog in the Scumm Bar and taking on the evil LeChuck before the summer is out?  I truly, madly, deeply hope so.  It has been too long.  To be able to play this classic on Live on the big TV and as the icing on the cake, actually earn achievements for it would be nothing short of pure bliss.  For a new generation to experience and (hopefully) appreciate its charms would be a wonderful thing.  The creative genius of the characters, humour, and story are responsible for its longevity and I have no doubt that it will be as playable now as it was close to twenty years ago, which is no small feat once nostalgia is set aside.

So raise a glass of Grog at the news as LeChuck sets sail once more, the Swordmaster picks up her blade, and the secrets of Monkey Island open up before our hapless hero once again.

Ever since I first read about the game, it has bothered me.  Violette was a real woman.  She was captured, tortured, hideously abused, and then executed.  She was 23.  Why should I care about this being the subject of a game?  When I first read of Violette’s true story as part of the blurb in a games magazine, it moved me to tears which quickly became disgust, shock, and then anger.  Anger at her horrific suffering, at the evil that is done not just in the name of war, and then at whoever decided that this would be a good idea to spin into a game.

I shut the magazine, vowing never to play the game as a reflex decision, but like so much of the things that I fear or hate, it flitted between shadows in my head as I taunted my inner hate with more information about the game as it was slowly revealed.  Nothing, no game has ever got under my skin quite like this one has.  Nothing has ever presented me with the dilemma about drawing a line; about what I will and won’t play and why, but Velvet Assassin has.  I don’t want to play it, I don’t want to support a game that has ‘sexed up’ the historic Violette, I don’t want to play a game based on the true life of this tragic young woman.  In arguing with myself I can imagine the voices of others, arguing that I’m being unreasonable, or over sensitive, that it’s a game, and that what makes it different than other horrific games about war…after all, isn’t this just one of those?  I say to the voices, with growing decisiveness, “go to hell”.

War is horrific but the much fought battles in gaming land, as in reality, are fought by the many and games when depicting these battles either conjure a sea of faceless/nameless soldiers to die and have a fictional character as their centre, however real the situation in which they are placed.  Even when you have comrades in arms who die, perhaps in dramatically upsetting circumstances, they are still fictional, therefore, perhaps this is why they are more acceptable; more palatable.

War and it’s battles are a bigger picture, a large, bloody, violent conflict of many.  Velvet Assassin, by nature of being a stealth title is small, intimate, and personal, and it focuses on one very real person.  If we take the wider picture of war in a game setting again and this time apply the idea of Velvet Assassin, it is suddenly, for me at least, quite different and maybe then, even a general war game would become more unsettling…take a body of England’s – a real young soldier whose life you can paint a picture of through his poetry and letters home… he was real, he lived, and he died.  Imagine his pain, his injuries and suffering, the terror, the sickness, his friends dying around him.  Imagine the horrors of war that we have come to accept through the media so much so that we have become blasé, suddenly with a real-life centre – the colour is more vivid, the horror more so, and the unsettling nature of a game based on this life and death so much more real.

I think that is where Velvet Assassin gets me.  It isn’t a faceless or fictional assassin on some mock game-stage of war.  She lived, breathed, suffered, and ultimately died and try though I might (and I have, truly) I can’t find the idea of a game based on her short life anything but completely unsettling.  I have never felt this moved or disturbed by a game and it bothers me, and it truly gets under my skin.  For some people it will be a case of, ‘ffs, it’s just a game’.  Well ffs, this is my line.  I’ve never had one before and I’m trying to come to terms with it and figure it out.  I never wanted or expected one and I am still struggling to understand it, to overcome it, and rub it out.  Perhaps ultimately, though it is faint, shaky, and tentative, I should let it be, because it belongs there.

Perhaps we all have a line, just that few of us discover it?  Does that make me lucky or unlucky, stupid, silly, or smart? I believed myself untouchable when it came to games, I’d play whatever – after all, they are just games.  But with the haunting reminder that Violette’s life was very, disturbingly real – something that touches me on an emotional level, I realised in a shocking and sobering moment that I wasn’t beyond being affected and so my line melted into being, much to my horror.

Ultimately, perhaps the game itself presents me with a better shield to justify my avoidance of Velvet Assassin to those who may criticise my suddenly stopping where they would happily pass on by, and that is that the early reviews are very shaky, that there are bad checkpoints rather than manual saves – a true crime in a stealth title, and that it simply isn’t that great.  That’s a relief.  For a moment I thought that the game would be stunning and I would have to stand by my line on it’s own, still shocked at the existence of said line, and perhaps fight to justify it to a scornful majority.  Luckily, the game has saved me, but the line however, stays.  It’s real and it’s mine and it’s a sobering reminder that even an open, blasé, care-not gamer can be ‘got to’ in a very stealthy surprising moment.

Now Sony have stepped in at the last minute (presumably with a very fat wallet) and bagged Ghostbusters as a PS3 exclusive in Europe.  How and why this happened when it has long been acknowledged as multiplatform title is both mystifying and disappointing to say the least.  So that’s two down…what next?  After all, two of the three big titles which were to swallow my life in June are now gone, leaving but one.  Sims3.  Arguably this title, if it hasn’t been screwed up, could potentially swallow more time than the other two put together and multiplied by a googol, but I was hoping for some variety, some relief from the neighbourhood of Pleasantview.  Where better to look for variety than the dark bedlam of Arkham or the Staff Puft stained streets of NYC, but sadly, no longer.

I have never been one for outlandish conspiracy theories, but perhaps EA have performed some secret curse (possibly involving a rubber chicken, sans pulley) and are forcibly trying to make sure that I play Sims 3 and only Sims 3 until the next wave of games in the Autumn.  At this rate, it seems that that is exactly what will be happening.  Light heartedness aside though, this is a worrying trend and one which I sincerely hope won’t catch on for the rest of 2009’s promised titles, otherwise Hydrophobia will be washed away, Red Dead Redemption will vanish without shooting it’s load, and Heavy Rain will become a Wii title in which you have to play a series of WiiMote mini games to avoid a Nintendo-censored serial killer who smothers his victims with candy floss.

It does seem to be one of those years though…Alan Wake is camping out at June’s farthest reaches at the moment, but given it’s skittish flirting with an actual solid release date, this is to be taken with a handful of salt – now more so than ever and will likely slip back.  Other half’s gift-to-be of the Two Worlds sequel has already been dragged back to the third quarter after a previous slip, and my lustful eyeing up of Aliens: Colonial  Marines is bound to end in heartbreak before the year is out.  A sane mind won’t even consider the now likely defunct Duke Nukem Forever or the eagerly awaited Final Fantasy 13 this side of the year end.

June is going to be a bittersweet month – the games that do escape into the open to be enjoyed will have a sad tinge to them as I consider what I was supposed to be playing.  Looking into the mists of third and fourth quarter ’09 seems as much an exercise in hope as it is patience… so here’s hoping that by the time June comes and goes, it’s once proud line up, now perched forlornly at the end of the year along with everything else, doesn’t slip from the fingers of 2009 entirely.

Personally I love to read the manual.  I like to hold the controller in my hand and get a feel for the controls, read any back story, study important stats, and get a feel for the HUD before I dare to fire the game up.  I like to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, and why.  Not everyone does, however and this was never more clear to me than after returning home from a recent trip to Glasgow to watch the Ready Up World Record attempt.  Partner and myself both arrived back with a copy of Burnout Paradise and while I settled on the bed and cracked open the manual, I could hear the whoosh of partner’s Xbox 360 booting up in the next room before the strains of Paradise City immediately began to filter through.  I actually stopped reading and considered banging on the wall.  What was he doing?  He couldn’t have read it that quickly.  Nope, he didn’t bother!  But, but… stuttered my incredulous brain, how could he not?  Why wouldn’t you?

It boggles my mind, but he isn’t alone – my father is worse, even extending his, ‘nah, that’ll be alright’ approach away from gaming to everything from flat-pack furniture to shed construction.  Thankfully my sister at least shares my incredulity.  After (quite foolishly) convincing my father to try the satisfying but tough ancient Egypt management game, Pharaoh, she lovingly printed out the manual from the budget CD-Rom and gave it to him. It got nary a second look. Hours later, he declared the game stupid… the reason?  His townsfolk were being decimated by hippos because he hadn’t bothered to read the manual and had no clue what to do next or how to get lazy remaining workers to build those ancient wonders.  It served him right.  “Did you read the manual?”  No, was of course, the defensive answer.

Flash forward to Oblivion.  For a long period of time my other half groused about trudging to and fro between towns and places and the time swallowed in doing so.  It was only after clocking up a large number of gaming hours that he discovered the fast travel option.  Where had this gaming gold nugget of information been hidden?  Yes, the manual.  Which he hadn’t read.  Now, there are some games you could argue, you don’t need to bother, but with a game like Oblivion, taking a flick through may just be of import, especially when at that all important character creation stage, and certainly the same case can be made for a tricksey and often brutally unforgiving management game like Pharaoh.

I suppose I just don’t get why you wouldn’t read the manual, but I grudgingly accept that there are some to whom simply wading in is perfectly natural… but on their head be it.  So if your Glass Boots are wearing thin from walking to the Imperial City or your villagers are being menaced by assorted Nile wildlife, it’s your own fault if you didn’t bother with the manual.  With my measured approach, I may not beat anyone to the disc-tray to fire up a game, but at least I know what the yellow dots are on the Paradise City map and my Egyptian villagers won’t incur the wrath of Anubis… because that just stings.

You will read them…

We often hear the more negative sides of the people that share our hobby, but the good do walk among us, lost among the ‘shouty teen’ and ‘pervy bloke’ shadows. From forum threads, to reams of patiently typed walkthroughs and collectible guides, to YouTube videos and trick tips, whatever game, level, or map you are stuck on, there will always be a kindly soul who has trod the thorny lined path before you.

I’ve had plenty of moments where I’ve scoured forums and sites after advice or tips, from the special rating achievement on Hitman to solving the errand glitch in Bully, to pouring red eyed over speedrun guides on YouTube for Mirror’s Edge, or even finding the last collectibles on Lego Batman.  I’ve been helped by kind souls on the Xbox forums who have placed their trust in a stranger enough to loan me their uber rare Famous Pinata for an achievement, or who gave up their time to sell and re-buy a Hero Doll in Fable 2 to help me pop the Dollcatcher achievement, or simply offered tips and advice which I’ve gleaned from both old and current threads.

Now, I’m not naive enough to think that everyone who steps up to the plate to help others is doing so with purely altruistic intent. There is always the god complex element who do it to crow or show their superiority and the fact that they have already chewed that meat and spat it out. There are others who do it out of a need to be seen to be the ‘good one’, for some element of praise that they seem to feed upon, feasting on the gratitude of others.  Is that so much of a bad thing though if it has a good result?  After all, don’t most of us like to help… to get that fuzzy feeling when we can actually impart advice that makes someone go ‘wow, thanks’, or helps them?  I do – it isn’t a need for me, but once in a while, it is a damn good feeling to soak up.  It’s easy to relax back and not give a shit about anyone else, but I always try and remember that I’ve been in the position of the seeker… I’ve been the one searching for answers… I’ve walked the mile in their shoes and perhaps, therefore I owe something.

As gamers, where luck is as much a part of life as skill, patience, and practice, perhaps we have a duty to pay.  Every once in a while, we can turn back and give someone else a leg up. For those that don’t… well, I don’t want to say that the gaming gods will send the Red-Ring demons after your favourite box of tricks, but I won’t say they won’t either.

‘Fuck-you mentality’ as my old Performing Arts tutor once said, is often rife and is certainly corrosive to any ‘community’ which is becoming an oft-used word in gaming now.  For those that helped me, I say ‘thank you’ and for that, I remember my responsibility to others and return to forums of games I have completed to offer help – to help others get achievements they need, or to give advice (that they could find further down if they bothered to search harder which admittedly gets under my skin), but I do it anyway. I pay it forward, because I think I should.

As creators of game worlds conjure more and more depth, it is almost tragic to ‘finish’ a game and have to leave it all behind with so much still unexplored or favourite haunts abandoned.  Now however, we have been given the keys to the kingdom by these generous geniuses and their lavish and lovingly created worlds are laid out for our eternal enjoyment.  People have completed GTA4 and still potter around the city, visiting comedy clubs, watching bad TV and occasionally hunting scabby pigeons.  In Rockstar’s less hyped but wonderful Bully, you are granted the endless summer to wedgie, egg, and torment your classmates while acquiring tattoos, racing, sampling carnival rides and setting off the fire alarm while time stretches infinitely on, ever patient while you gambol and play.

Perhaps one of the greatest of these games is Bethesda’s stunning Oblivion.  As fellow Ready-Upper Laura recently wrote, it’s beautifully rich land is a wonderful place to be and more and more, I find myself shirking my duties to the folk of Cyrodiil and simply pottering.  I spend hours in my homes in Skingrad, Bruma, and Cheydinhall, arranging magical armour and weapons into display cases, turning and flipping them awkwardly until they sit just so, arranging the Helm of the Deep Delver on top of a cabinet, sorting my drawers into weapons, potions, and miscellaneous accrued crap and visiting Fort Nikel to cause a scrap between the marauders and bandits.  Like Bully and others, the game is ideal for just casually amusing yourself.  When recently asked by my incredulous partner why I hadn’t yet completed the main quest, my embarrassed answer was that I had been busy pottering.  I spend hours doing nothing but wandering around, making potions, visiting the occasional favourite cave, emptying boxes in the Imperial Market district and selling the bits for one or two gold like the hard, impoverished early days of my game just for nostalgia’s sake…faff, faff, faff, but somehow, it is strangely calming. 

Perhaps I have misjudged these retired, be-cardiganed oddities with their geranium offcuts and their ornament tweaking…after all, whether they are doing it through a compulsion or a desire, they seem to enjoy it and to be honest, it is rather soothing.  Perhaps, like me, they start their weekend with the best of intentions to do this and that…like I start my game with the intention of closing an Oblivion gate or visiting that shrine, or making an effort to press on with Grand Theft Auto 4’s missions, but somehow things just drift as I ‘just go and do this’ and that’s it…I’m doomed to an afternoon of blissful nothingness, sinking into that world like I would a squishy sofa.

I suppose it is no bad thing and a testament to the worlds that developers create for us that we want to idle time away in their embrace – with so much time effort and creative spark going into games these days it seems only right or even respectful to slow down sometimes and just savour what is there, to exist in the worlds they create without a headlong rush to finish the story and toss it aside.  Sometimes it is good to dawdle and after a day’s pottering, as my Wood Elf archer stands on a bluff and looks out over the Ayleid wonder of the Imperial city or Jimmy Hopkins is dragged back to the dorm by the fifth stink bombed prefect that day, I thank the creative minds that allowed it to be, that made pottering and game dawdling acceptable.

Populous is a simple tale of good versus evil – the gods who created the world (Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, and Harvest) pitted against demons of similar powers who sprung from the wicked hearts of men and dare to challenge the gods for control over the world.  Each faction draws it’s strength from it’s worshippers and paradoxically, even a god cannot function without the devotion of it’s people  to give it it’s powers.  Gods need Psyche Energy in order to perform miracles which is generated from the houses of your worshippers and is stored up to be used to either aid them or hinder your foe.  Your worshipers need space to build so you have to flatten the landscape and remove obstacles which allow houses to expand and generate more Psyche Energy.  Should you take too long, your worshippers will lose Spirit and eventually die and your rival will gain ground on you.

Simple orders can be used to control your worshippers, but their most important function will be to build. Worshippers alone cannot win the game for you though which is where the disruptive element comes into play in the form of Miracles.  Depending on the god you play, Miracles will vary, however, access to the nastier ones is withheld until you have amassed a sufficient amount of Psyche energy, so unleashing a meteorite to devastate your enemy’s followers requires patience and much landscaping.  In fact, everything about Populous requires patience and much landscaping and this is unfortunately where the game loses it’s charm and becomes grating.

Thankfully, control is simple and landscaping can be done with simple stylus movements which admittedly can prove problematic if you are too hasty, resulting in creating  town levelling peaks with clumsy ease.  The top screen shows  the changing world and results of your actions in the isometric work map which is assigned to the touch screen, along with the bars, gauges and order buttons where you will exercise your powers, all of which are intuitively laid out.   Miracles are also located here while the animations are played out beautifully in the top screen, but the most important thing, aside from the Armageddon clock is the gauge representing tribal influence which compares rival worshippers  – if the bar is more red than blue, you need to swing the balance, or come Armageddon, your backside will be toast.

As entertaining as the Miracles can be, the novelty wears off quickly as you will be so preoccupied with endless landscaping that you won’t have much time for anything else but listening to the suitably dramatic underscore.  Even the stunning and detailed world occupying the top screen is sadly wasted as your attention will be focussed on repetitive stylus sweeps on the work map while occasionally taking a moment to send an earthquake or tidal wave to blight the enemy.  The orders which you can give your worshippers are largely irrelevant, as is ordering them to battle – the occasional Miracle is a far easier way to put a crimp on a demon’s day while you keep your worshippers building…do enough to swing the gauge in your favour and victory come Armageddon is assured.  And that is it. 

When you scrape away the novelty of the Miracles and the gimmicky landscapes such as fairytale, outer-space and 8bit (featuring  Nintendo consoles past and present…yes, you read that correctly), the game is simple and actually quite dull.  The repetitive grind of constant landscaping isn’t enough to justify the occasional fun piece of devastation and  it is too easy to fall into a pattern of scrabbling to nudge the gauge up and then triggering  Armageddon as soon as possible to save any further tedium.  Armageddon is perhaps  one of the most entertaining aspects of the game with legions of little worshippers in red and blue swimming trunks bitch slapping one another to the strains of Ode to Joy from Beethoven’s Ninth.  It is almost worth the wait.  Almost. 

Sadly Populous however, was not.  As one of those games that launched a genre and is remembered as the classic  it was, now, however beautifully revamped, seems sadly dull when not viewed through time’s rose-tinted window.  Some will undoubtedly love it, and as a quick time filler it is entertaining enough…it just won’t nuke your world.

The graphics divided gamers just as much – gone was the vibrant, cartoony look of Street Fighter’s markets and aircraft hangars and in came digitised sprites based on actors, pits of spikes, and gloomy lairs.  It’s seven original characters all had requisite back-stories to bring some sense of order to the Kaos (sorry) and more importantly, each had what would become the game’s biggest and most controversial draw – fatalities.

Magazines ran pages of move listings and complicated finish him/her’ button presses, complete with screenshots of the blood splashes, decapitations, and inevitable posturing.  Parents choked, teens loved it, and a franchise was born.  Sequels inevitably followed and the original seven characters had swelled by more than double by the third game, with more and more endgame additions such as Babalities, Animalities, and oddly, a Mercy mode.  Kombat Kodes were added to the game’s start where the player had a limited time in which to input in a combination in order to unlock secrets and new modes, and the wagon trundled on.  And on.  Flash forward to 2008 when another spin off from the main franchise was released: Mortal Kombat vs DC Universe. 

Just the concept sounded off putting enough…an all powerful Kryptonian and his pals against a very fleshy group largely comprised of mortals?  How is that going to work I asked myself and who was on what when this got green-lighted?  Couldn’t the Mortal Kombat gang have picked a better fight…say, with Capcom’s mob?  After all, it has been the Holy Grail of beat em up wishlists for years and who wouldn’t want to see someone as cheap as Seth getting nad-knuckled by Johnny Cage’s Split Punch? Or Chun Li and Kitana  in a bitch fight to make The Todd weep and seep with joy?

Sadly, I personally feel that like other franchises which start out superbly and become classics, (Sonic the Hedgehog…would you stand up please) Mortal Kombat has suffered from one too many diminishing returns and gimmicks in an attempt to both cash in and keep the fickle and choice laden gaming crowds happy and has ended up, like Sonic, hammering nails into it’s own coffin.  This is likely to continue until someone sits back and rethinks things – but now, this may no longer be an option.

Is a possible forced sale a new beginning or is it the end for Mortal Kombat and it’s mooted ninth incarnation and is there anyone left who cares?  Is it our responsibility as gamers to give a shit?  After all, this was an arguably important franchise back in the day…and we wouldn’t want Sonic to go lonely into the dark night, given his history and contribution to gaming, surely?  Or is it time to just let it go?  Regardless, perhaps Midway is doing the right thing (albeit for the wrong reasons)…and as sad as it may be, sometimes it can be best to sever ties if things are simply not working.

Potentially homeless…will perform fatalities for cash

So who will buy?  The question puts me in mind of a car boot sale, with Sonya and co lying on a pasting table beside some whimsies and old scuba diving equipment.  Will someone buy it and revamp the franchise – dust it down and bring it back with a triumphant fanfare like the recent, delectable Street Fighter 4?  Perhaps.  As someone who used to enjoy Mortal Kombat and it’s characters very much, I think it will be a shame if it falls between the cracks as Midway breaks.  I hope someone can catch this one and run with it.  Time to break out the ‘mum-spit’ tissue, dust down it’s blazer, and give it a hall pass to hell for one last shot.  So someone, anyone, step up and Test Your Might.

Love is easy to cover…the stark beauty and potential of the city’s rooftops, the initial rush of the free flowing running, the motion blur in her peripheral vision, and the sound of running feet and panting exertion serving to immerse the player in Faith’s skin, in her world.  Hate comes in other places – last level aside, it is the Speedruns and Time Trials.  Now, perhaps I should hold my hands up and explain first…it is kind of my fault.  No one forces you to do these, they are entirely optional…unless of course you succumb to the lure of the achievements with which they reward you.  How hard can they be once you complete the game? I ask myself.  That was back in January.  So far I have completed a paltry two Speedruns by the skin of my gritted teeth  and scraped up a handful of Time Trial stars totalling the grand sum of twenty.  I need thirty more.  There are also eight more Speedruns.  I could weep.  The focus of my hate? I have struggled with one particular run on and off for weeks: Jacknife.

With 11 minutes as the deadline, it is the most angering experience I think I have had this generation.  Every night and at stolen moments during the day, I pour over You Tube videos of routes and tips and the dashing Speedruns of others who can complete it and go and make a cuppa while I’m plunging to my death for the millionth time and vowing to carve up my Xbox360 with a steak knife.  You Tube videos however, just don’t cut it.  Don’t get me wrong, they are brilliant – they show shortcuts, alternate routes, and things you wouldn’t have considered.  They are also absolutely irrelevant, as when you press start, it matters not a jot – it is down to skill, or lack thereof.  They don’t solve the game for you or take the sense of achievement away because due to the nature of the game, it is solely your own ability and sense of timing that will win it – they merely point the way, like smug signpost gods.  So, when I flunk a simple jump, or mess up a shortcut which ends up costing time as I redo it over and over, or suffer one of the many glitches which has me sail through a pipe and fall or get cut to ribbons by a chopper which should have long since pulled away further up the storm-drain, I could scream.  And have done.

I have been told that I don’t have to do it, but I do, because I love it as much as I hate it.  I hate the glitches, I hate the nasty checkpointing, the tight time limits, and how many stupid mistakes that I make, and hate that when I do rarely make it to the end, I have somehow managed to take more time than other You Tube show-offs who didn’t use any of the shortcuts.  This need is not just one of compulsion, or desire for completion, or snaps because of the tough nature of the achievements, but also the fact that the number of hours that I have now invested would make it gut-wrenching to walk away from.  I can’t.  It would be like Waterhouse walking away from painting The Lady of Shallot and leaving the boat empty. 

Fall…you know you will, just to spite me.

So every night, like a mournful phantom, I drift upstairs and perch on my bed, ready to traverse the storm-drains, avoid choppers, and chase down the elusive Jacknife in under 11 minutes.  If Ready Up goers across the country should hear a distant scream of ecstasy, it won’t be your neighbour hosting an Ann Summers party…it will be me, finally beating the time limit.

Additional:  The night after I wrote this, I only bloody did it…you heard the scream didn’t you?  Everyone else did.

Having recently played through Fable 2 several times I felt moved to create a tribute. Not to Molyneux’s perhaps overhyped game in general, but to one character in particular (and not who you would expect.) While others have waxed lyrical about the companionship of their pooch and what a wonderful addition it is, I worship at the altar of selfish narcissism that is the Hero of Skill – Reaver.

An anti-hero of the grandest design, this louche character idles into existence in the last third of your game in style. When we first meet him, he is posing for a sculpture, weapon in hand (calm down at the back) and won’t deign to speak with you unless you have scraped together enough fame to hold a scented candle to his. Fair enough – after all, how could we compare? He has over 200 ill gained years on every one else, after all. His dashing cloak, pompous drawl, and coiffured hair speak of true villainy and opulent roguishness and only the great Stephen Fry can do such a character justice – his rich voice breathing life into Reaver like arguably no other could.

Reaver isn’t pleasant or noble and his past is certainly a blacker shade of pale… who else would sacrifice an entire town including his family to the shadows in exchange for eternal youth? And unless you take a similar dark path while running his dismissive errand, he will happily sacrifice your vitality too. There is nothing redeeming about the character – no noble spirit beneath the fair complexion and jutting chin… the man is vain, arrogant, libidinous, and treacherous, but he does it in such a swaggering, almost offhand style that it is a pure delight to watch. Even when his attempts to betray me backfired and we had to escape down the wonderfully named ‘Reaver’s Rear Passage’ I was grinning at his rambling monologue. The ballsy arrogance with which he assumes credit for victories before attempting to abandon me to Lucien’s whims had me shaking my head but I still couldn’t hate him.

Anyone who describes the Great Shard as an enormous, pointy, flying boulder is worth a laugh of respect and he’s the only one who will congratulate you if you choose the ‘Needs of the One’ – someone has to, after all. And when all is done and (largely) said, should you fail to despatch Lucien in a timely fashion, Reaver will grow bored and do the job for you… so perhaps he isn’t all bad and I’m right to adore him. Indeed, his diary hints of regret at his actions in Oakvale and suggests that the man he is now is an attempt to distance himself from those tragic events.

Whatever Lionhead plan (if anything) for this scoundrel, I hope it doesn’t involve a bullet. While Reaver is happy to serve up similar to rivals, enemies, and even friends, and no doubt me, it would be with heavy heart that I would match my flintlock pistol against his Dragon Stomper .48. Fiction is replete with loveable scoundrels and for me at least, Reaver is just such a character and should you doubt my Reaver ramblings, then remember… even that other esteemed smuggler – Han, shot first. Yes, he did. (la la I can’t hear you…)

Loveable rogues or selfish smugglers?

Without Reaver, for me at least, Fable 2 wouldn’t have been as much fun and while my character parks herself in his usurped house (his indignant words, not mine) and puts her feet up on his expensive table, he is undoubtedly flaunting his promiscuity with the ladies and gents in Samarkand or putting a bullet into the head of anyone who suggests that his cheekbones may rest a little lower than he believes… and the thought makes me smile. It is characters such as him who add more flesh to the bones of a game and without whom, the colour would seem a little less vibrant and the memory of the game would fade that much quicker. As it is, for me, this swaggering, self indulgent pirate gave Albion an extra swipe of the paintbrush that will ensure that it lingers more fondly in my memory.

I can say with a grin that I have explored Reaver’s Rear Passage and it was a delight, so I sweep my hat off, (very carefully) to the Hero of Skill and say ‘thank you’. But of course, this obvious and deserved gesture is unnecessary as in true Reaver style, credit will already have been assumed.