#i think about that rant about cyberpunk 2077 that went around a little

[coelacat]

man while i understand it im so tired of the attitude of "if you dont think critically of every media you like ever and if you like stuff you cant think critically about youre stupid" mentality. its so prevalent just about everywhere i go online, youd forget that its an insanely online take

[cycian]

An ode to explorers, a Starfield appreciation rant

Firstly, I must be honest. My arrival into the universe of Starfield was difficult. The world did not speak to me outright and I found myself lost as the game slowly unraveled itself to me. It took some time to understand one key point of understanding that would lead me through my journey through the Unity and the multiverse.

You make your own story. The purpose of your existence into this universe is up to you and no one else. You might have heard a lot of criticism against the game—some of it is valid. But there is no right or wrong way to engage with a piece of media, and that is especially relevant when discussing Starfield.

It was quite reminiscent of the joyful embrace of the lack of meaning of the Universe, and brought me back to Camus and Lispector quite a few times. At the core, the meaning of the game and of the Unity is something that you must seek within yourself, and that will evolve with you with each step into eternity.

“And it's inside myself that I must create someone who will understand.”

-Clarice Lispector

Spoilers for the main quests below.

            What meaning is there to be had, if we are the only ones to remember?

This question could have been asked by the Hunter, who, driven by greed and boredom became the main antagonist of the game’s main questline. After all, he admits to letting the first occurrence of our character move forward upon realizing that for the first time, we’d broken our cycle of death during High Price To Pay. His entire perspective is based on what he remembers, because to him, that is all that matters.

And while one might be quick to argue that they do not feel the same, let me ask you, after NG+4,5, have you not made selfish choices yourself? Have you not led others to suffer simply to see how that would change as opposed to your original one? Have you not thought back about your companions from your original universe, on how they are faring, lost to an ever-expanding blackest sea?

My original meaning had been to set out and chart the immensity offered to the player. But as I progressed too fast, something horrible happened. I started High Price To Pay entirely blind, losing Andreja to save Sarah. And suddenly, my goal was shifted. I went from scavenging, charting planets and dabbling in the faction quests with little interest, to rushing as fast as I could through the main game to start over again. I had no knowledge of the endgame, I ignored the temples and anything that wasn’t related to the artifacts.

When I met the Emissary, it felt like a ghost. Not just Andreja’s—although the instant the revelation came into play, I gasped and almost dropped my controller. I lost my beloved godfather in February this year. I do not talk about it much, but think about it constantly. And this Andreja, well, she had lost me. And was doing the exact same thing that I was doing—rushing things through, hoping that she would get to see me on the other side, even just a glimpse. She was my ghost—I was hers.

To get to see someone I had once lost, on terms that were not mine (we’ve all restarted games or lost hours of gameplay to save a beloved companion, have we not?), it rattled my perspective on the game, and on my objectives.

I knew I was rushing to have Andreja as a companion again. But why?

Because I’d been so busy discovering the galaxy, fighting against the Terrormorphs and getting to learn the world around me, that I hadn’t had enough time with her. Hell, except Sarah, I hadn’t spent much time around my companions at all! Then, came the realization that had hit me similarly as I played Cyberpunk 2077, or Pillars Of Eternity.

Why am I doing this?

What is the purpose of my actions? And why did I realize what mattered most to me, only when it was threatened to slip out of my grasp?  

It was then that it started occurring to me, right as the Unity’s purpose was revealed, that I wanted more time. As V, I wanted more time to live. As the Watcher, I wanted more time to scour Eora.

 And as the Spacefarer, I wanted more time to say goodbye.

Because as I left behind my now-wife Sarah Morgan, I realized that I was not departing alone. The rest of the companions, no matter what I did or said, would step through the Eternity and find their way across the multiverse. Some out of curiosity, expiation or escapism, some out of grief and regret.

And those reasons have echoed with every Starfield player I’ve discussed this subject with. This story was no longer about my Spacefarer letting her gaze drift towards the infinity for the sake of curiosity, or because it was what the game offered as an ending. This story became an Ouroboros of discovery in the art of letting go.

I went through the Unity without hesitation, hoping to find those I’d left behind there. And though I was happy to no end to be welcomed back into a place that could have felt like home, had I not been in such a rush to enjoy my destination, my heart felt a pang. It felt a pang as I laid eyes on Sarah, who had no idea who I was, despite how close we had been. And as the story went on, most of my thoughts were on those I had left behind, their stories untold. I hadn’t completed Barrett and Sam’s quests, so hell-bent on finding Andreja in another life. The fact that they now wandered the multiverse, their troubles still unresolved, burdened me. Yet, I found much more light in this new cycle. I got to spend all the time I wanted exploring the universe with my favorite people by my side.

The universe hadn’t changed—just a few of my responses and story points found themselves changed, but it was my perspective that was evolving. And that is the greatest feat that this game drew out of me. It gave me time—an infinity of it. I married Andreja, built outposts and finished every faction quest.

But the Unity kept calling—there’ll be more. There’s an infinity of time. There no time limits, no rushes to be had, nothing to fear as I had grown too strong from my previous universe. That is when I started talking about it with my friends. Why are you playing?

Some loved building outposts and creating factory towns. Others strived to see all aspects of morality and drive the game to the very limit of what it was made for. Others just wanted to pick a direction and go until they got bored of it.

All of those were more than valid reasons to enjoy the game. It took me a while to understand why, now that Andreja was safe, that every companion was happy and cared for, why I was still there, still playing.

It’s so simple it hurts. I just wanted more time. When you lose someone, all you can think of is the missed opportunities. The calls you could’ve made, the experiences you could’ve had. It wasn’t even something that crossed my mind. I had pushed back the grief so far at the back of my head and buried myself in work that I thought the weight on my chest was nothing but the lack of sleep catching up to me.

Until I got to the Unity again. To the core of the Universe. I did everything I wanted to do. Why did the idea of leaving hurt me so? I wanted more time. There was nothing more to do. My companions had said all that they had to say. I wanted more time. I was supposed to be at peace. More time. I needed to move forward. More time.

One more time. I went in. I skipped the main quest, wondering what it would do.

And saw myself become alien to those I had given everything I had to. They were afraid of opening up to someone who already knew all about them. The beauty of the mise-en-abime was not lost on me, quite the opposite. For the first time, I felt myself as my Starborn. This familiar stranger, listening to the echo of their favorite song, wanting to savor each note as they echoed in an universe too vast for comprehension.

That was this precious moment where I fell in love with Starfield. When it acknowledged what I knew, where I’d come from, and asking where I wanted to go from here. Breeze through the story with mostly silent companions? Or do it all again, again and again, until it stopped hurting, until I stopped caring.

I know that the ending was unappreciated, anticlimactic as you can choose to enter the Unity any time, and you may leave it as you wish.

To me, this the game’s most precious gift, because in an universe that is so vast, cold and uncaring, they are asking you, the player, what do you value?

Was your bond this cycle so deep, that you refuse yourself the final trip into the unknown, knowing that someday, you will make that leap? Are you eager to start all over again?

To me, it felt like the kindest gesture. It felt like a friend’s hand on my shoulder, saying “take as long as you need”.

For the first time since that dreary February morning, I was able to cry. And think of past memories with my godfather, where the shadow of death did not permeate the beautiful days we had.

This game is an invitation to explore, outwards and inwards, safely, with immense room to fuck up and the guarantee that nothing is lost forever.

Spacefarers, venture forth. And catch a smile out there.

[jeff-from-marketing]

There's so many games I love for this reason that it's hard to pick just one.

Cyberpunk 2077 was the first thing that came to mind, even in the state it was at during launch you could still feel just how much love was being put into it despite the circumstances. Seeing it now, after all the updates, is nothing short of beautiful. I could (and have) gone on entire rants about the themes and stories, to the design of Night City, to just how wonderfully animated every single character is and all the little details, their choices of music and leitmotifs throughout, etc. This is a game where, despite the development hell it went through (and I do hope the devs get better treatment) you can still feel the love and care put into it

Control is another really good one for me, and it's one where you can tell every single word was chosen very carefully. To say nothing of the art and how it resides perfectly in the realm of the uncanny, and how wonderfully crafted the gameplay itself is. I've rarely seen a game like it achieve the ebb and flow that it does without making it seem like you're putting in a tonne of extra effort. Everything just goes together without even thinking about it, and you just know that they spent so much time fine tuning it to get it to that point. Then you have all the little written documents around just to fill in the world they've spent all this time working on.

Last one, because otherwise I'm here forever, but I want to give another shoutout to Metal: Hellsinger. That game is a love letter to all things metal, and it shows through every little bit of the game. The music choice is obvious, even getting big name metal singers is pretty obvious, and if you're making a love letter to metal then it only makes sense to make the game focus around the music. And this is where it shines. The escalating intensity of the music as you defeat enemies, the encouragement to stay on beat to the music, the fact that the world itself reacts to the beat (Hi-Fi Rush does this too, and it's also a wonderful gem of a game!). Then you have all the creative ways they make different weapons that feel different to use despite all of them working on the beat. Plus there's all the animations, like how the main attack with Paz is just him headbanging to the music, or how the ultimate ability for a couple weapons has your character flashing the devil horns hand gesture.

I could keep going, but I'll spare ye all for now. The main thing I want to get across is that they are absolutely correct and that the best games are always the ones where you can feel the love and soul put into it. Side note: absolutely correct on Monster Hunter

When I say I like games that are artistic experiences btw I'm not just talking about story focused games or games that try to be movies. For instance I think monster hunter is a deeply artistic experience. So much creativity and passion is on display when you look at these monster designs, their biology and lore, not to mention the different weapons and how intricately designed their movesets are. People clearly put a lot of heart and soul into all of that, and that's what I love to see. It's about that human creativity.

[omniversalobservations]

GTA Role Players Imagine a Reality Within the Omniverse Where Johnny Silverhand From Cyberpunk Lives in San Andreas

The scene: Grand Theft Auto V’s iconic city of Los Santos. People mill about outside an apartment building, likely plotting crimes. Nothing seems out of the ordinary—except for a lone figure. Clad in suffocatingly tight leather pants and a bulletproof vest, he looks prepared for anything and nothing all at once. He also looks like Keanu Reeves. He approaches a nearby man and asks—practically begs—for a cigarette. “I need my fucking...I need my fix,” he says in a hazy rasp. Then he trails off as he repeatedly slides into a T-pose while repeating the same sentence over and over. “I need my...I...I...I...I...” This is Grand Theft Auto role-playing, and these days, it’s a little different than you remember.

GTA role-playing is exactly what it sounds like: Players run around in GTA V’s massive open world and pretend to be cops, criminals, and everything in between, living out daily stories of their own makings. GTA V’s player-made “No Pixel” role-playing server never went away, but the delirious highs of the 2019 GTA RP boom feel like a distant memory. However, on the back of No Pixel’s 3.0 update (which launched last Friday) and the general popularity of role-playing on Twitch, GTA RP is back and bigger than ever. To wit: In March of 2019, at the height of the trend, GTA V peaked at 304,053 concurrent viewers. Last Sunday, it topped out at 438,350 concurrent viewers. Even yesterday, which wasn’t quite as much of a banner day as Sunday, still beat March 2019's high point by nearly 100,000 viewers.

[...]

The single greatest example of this dynamic is Burn, a streamer who’s spent the past several days role-playing as Keanu Reeves’ character from Cyberpunk 2077, Johnny Silverhand. Like Vader last time GTA RP blew up, Burn is this season’s breakout star. His pastiche is excellent; he nails Reeves’ schmaltzy yet believable intensity, turning even mistakes—like stabbing an ally—into excuses to rant about how he’ll stop at nothing to bring down “corpo scum.”

Burn dials everything about Reeves’ performance and Cyberpunk itself up to 11, liberally spitting phrases like “that’s cyber-fucked” in a perfect Keanu Reeves voice while somehow not breaking character to laugh about how ridiculous he sounds. In what is now his second most-popular clip of all time, Burn takes this joke to its (logical?) conclusion, telling a department of corrections officer the name of a person who can help him bring down the diabolical Arasaka corporation: Howard. The officer, another player, says he does not know Howard.

“You’ve never met Howard?” replies Burn, as Johnny. “What about...Howard Deez Nuts?”

“Oh my goodness,” says the officer, who walks away.

Burn then Burn makes his Johnny avatar turn and face the camera, as the distinctive Cyberpunk 2077 theme music suddenly swells.

“Yeah,” he says, using an emote to make it look like Johnny’s removing his sunglasses, “I’m Johnny Silverhand, and you just got cyber-punked.”

It is the dumbest shit I’ve seen in my life, and it made me laugh so hard that I’m sure my neighbors two floors up heard me.

Burn is not just Johnny Silverhand; he is Johnny Silverhand from the notoriously buggy video game Cyberpunk. This means that he, too, regularly glitches out, barking half-phrases over and over while using an emote to T-pose. It’s not exactly an original joke at this point, but what sells it are Burn’s execution and timing, as well as the game’s willingness to play along. No Pixel, after all, should not exist. It is unofficial and player-made, meaning that it, too, is prone to over-the-top comedic freakouts.

One of the most popular clips on all of Twitch in the past several days sees Burn crash a truck into a mailbox, at which point Lengyel, who was riding in back, goes flying out into the street.

“What the fuck?” Lengyel yells.

Burn begins to say “You cyber-fucked up, kid,” but cuts himself off and starts T-posing while saying, “You, you, you, you, you.”

“I think we broke him,” says Lengyel.

But then, without missing a beat, Burn resumes walking normally and moves to get back in the truck. “I’m perfectly fine,” he replies in a tone of venom-filled petulance. “Just get in the fucking car.” His character then sits down outside the car and floats in place. Burn set up the joke, but it was the game that delivered the punchline.

Source: Kotaku

(images via YouTube)