This likely goes through the mind of anyone sitting down to make their first game. Most gamers have ideas for their own game(s), and yet when we sit down to build we don’t even know where to start. This experience is one of the reasons I started my blog. This post is about how my group has consistently managed to create a playable game (some with real potential) once a month in 2-hours or less for about a year straight.
Ah, 2019. You kind of sucked. I mean I guess you started okay, but around the halfway point you took a turn for the worse and I’m glad to see you go.
But you know what’s always been good to me? Games. I played a lot of games this year. Read into my escapism however you want, but 2019 let me try my first Fire Emblem game, dip further into indie darlings, and deliver packages as a glorified UPS delivery man.
The following is a list of some of the more memorable, or unmemorable, moments from 2019 in gaming.
“You know, I think Tool’s cover of No Quarter is actually better than the original.”
I almost fell over. My friend and I hailed from opposite ends of the rock spectrum. He wouldn’t consider anything written after 1979 as music. I thought anything that wasn’t alt-2000’s rock was boring. An admission of guilt on his part, that a band from the 90s would usurp the holy grail that is the progenitor of all rock music – Led Zepplin? It was a staggering, blasphemous remark.
The evolution wasn’t out of the blue. It was just another cataclysmic shift in the way he and I began to see music beginning in the winter of 2005.
My family had a ritual when I was growing up. If we were watching TV and a back to school commercial came on any time before August 15th or so, my sister, my mother, or me would rush to change the channel while my father cackled like a madman at the inevitability of our fate. Summer would end, sooner than we could have thought or hoped, and we’d all be forced to ride the bus to school while my father waved from the sidewalk before hopping in his car, gleeful with the knowledge we were suffering alongside him in our own way.
I’ll be streaming Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines with my pal Zack today at 4:00 PM EDT (1:00 PM PDT)! We’re raising money for RAICES, the Refugee and Information Center for Education and Legal Services.
They’re a 501(c)(3) nonprofit agency that “promotes justice by providing free and low-cost legal services to underserved immigrant children, families, and refugees.”
Look, it’s 2019 and it’s impossible to avoid the news. You know the deal. RAICES does good work with their donations and you like watching 2004-era vampire games, don’tcha? This is a win for everyone.
Messing with Vampires
There’s a lot of mythology surrounding vampires – avoiding direct sunlight without a wide-brimmed hat, fear of getting a stake through the heart, a compulsion to listen exclusively to Lacuna Coil and attend raves in abandoned Gothic churches, and so on.
Your donations can influence the lore and rules we must abide by!
To do so, check out the expanding rules list here, then make a donation at raicestexas.org and forward your receipt to email@example.com! Let us know what rule you’d like to see (or submit a new one of your own).
The old refrain slid its way into my dusty Facebook messenger app. It had been years since I went by my old screename “Audio,” a name that’s almost as inspired as my lily white sword boy Dagda.
You see, back in the day, when I was older and wiser and knew that striding into a group of strangers and asking to be a part of their organization is not the way to make friends, I found a clan in a Half Life 1 mod-turned-full-game called Day of Defeat. The WWII shooter was bundled when I registered an old copy of Half Life to Steam, and since I was bored and at the time only received new games on my birthday or Christmas (a six month drought in any direction), I decided to check it out. It clicked with me pretty much right away.
I hate character creation. Tweaking cheekbones, pursing lips, finding the perfect eyebrow shade – I know people who absolutely eat this stuff up, but I can’t really bring myself to care about a mug I’m going to slap a hard-helm on and never look upon again anyway.