Taking up all the good oxygen.
Because Iíve forgotten how to review games that last more than an evening.
I donít know why I asked for a review code of Dragonís Dogma. No, seriously; I have no idea. I suppose I didnít really think it would drop Ė the request was made on release date and itís a Capcom game, who have a bit of a history of not wanting to supply a lot of code. But that was cool; the release date came and went and I had two other games to plug away at, anyway. That was more than enough work without a fifty-hour odd game adding to that. A week past, I reviewed said games in an attempt not to let bloody Venter take an early marathon lead by reviewing more in a couple of weeks than he did for eleven months of 2015 when suddenly Ė
Jason Venter Ė Here is your review code for Dragonís Dogma.
Take a melancholy collection of music notes and enhance their quality.
There's a thing a bunch of friends (which I do have, thankyouverymuch) and I do every year around New Years where we take a bunch of song intros and then make the wording overly verbose and just a bit pretentious. We make a drinking game out of because of course we do, we're English. This year I managed to save mine in a mysterious word document that I recently discovered and figured I'd see if the collective minds of HonestGamers could riddle them out. No one's got all ten yet. Some are very easy, but all are of well known songs you should have at least heard of.
 Independent Women - Destiny's Child
attachments to a male counterpart.
That pun's still clever. You'll need a heart of stone to disagree.
Remember how those console things work.
My PC died. Again. The first time it crapped out earlier in the year wasnít a big deal as it gave me an excuse to replay Longest Journey on the battered laptop, and then dust off the 360 and smash through Dreamfall again. It was all a plan to help me out with Dreamfall Chapters that was insisting that I remember small details from games Iíd beat a decade previous which I was cool with because I love those two games. Only now do I realise that with the PC dead, Iíll probably have to start Chapters from the start all over again. Crap.
Talking with the sadistic folk behind Skyshine's Bedlam.
Maybe you missed it because you've been too busy nestling among Nintendo's family friendly releases or you've already surrendered to the new wave of "press X to win" games showing up in increasing numbers on modern platforms, but Skyshine's BEDLAM was released recently. I really liked it, and recently had the chance to ask some questions bout the game's direction, the consumer backlash it suffered on launch and the subtle difference between mutant brutes with corrosive spit and zealot cyborg snipers sporting anti-matter launchers.
Still hanging onto the illusion that this was a good idea.
The best version of this game I have yet to play.
Why the hell did Digital Pictures release this awful game three bloody times?
Updated a generic female sprite from the original Japanese release so that she was, instead, constantly on fire for exactly no reason.
The most expensive bad time you can have this side of buying a Nottingham Forest season ticket.
Definite OD fodder -- still miles better than the SNES port.
:: FIFA '96 ::
Stuck between the cart and CD version; the football game no one asked for or wanted.
Still (arguably) the best hummingbird based puzzle/shooter hybrid on the 32X.
An entire arcade board version behind the SNES port
::San Goku Shi IV::
Remember that time the Earth exploded?
RymdResa describes itself as a poetic space odyssey which is weird Ė thatís weird, right? I wasnít entirely sure what I could expect when presented with a game described as such. It goes on to say how itís a combat free exploration game that uses abstract poetry in an attempt to convey the crippling isolation of space. My first playthrough ended in my explosive death thirty seconds in.
As did the majority of my attempts. You start the game stranded in the dead of space with no real clue as of what youíre doing and why. Thereís a vague pointer herding you in the direction of, I donít know, something, and in following it I almost always fell afoul of a meteor shower or got sucked into the gravitational pull of a nearby spiteful sun. Stupid, stupid suns.