Note: I passed on the VR and Stream Deck nominations since I don’t have either. Also, my choices are based solely on games I’ve played this year, so if some ‘obvious’ choices are missing, chances are I didn’t play them.

Sit Back and Relax Award

Although I haven’t finished the game yet, Dave the Diver (so far) has taken the high road when it comes to a diving game that isn’t trying to scare the absolute Jimminy Christmas out of you. Sure, the deeper waters can be eerie, but it’s executed with splendour rather than sneaking in jumpscares.

Excluding the time-sensitive cooking challenges and bosses, going day to day pursuing particular goals or just coasting around gathering fish and materials makes for a chill gameplay loop, unlocking features or rewards at a steady clip for some of those good good brain responses. The silly charm, writing and cutscenes that occasionally go harder than they ever should makes Dive the Diver an easy-going experience to unwind with.

Outstanding Story Rich Game Award

Admittedly, I haven’t played much by way of narrative-driven games this year, but I’d be surprised if any of them could top Lil Gator Game. Sure, you could argue it’s not the most story-rich game out there, but the story it tells about familial drifting, the drive to do something good and the importance of play is incredibly relatable, even if you were an only child. It’s a simple story, but it’s told through so much earnest charm and silly comedy that it hardly matters.

Best Soundtrack Award

Dang, y’all. Hi-Fi Rush sounds preeetty good - And I don’t just mean the licensed soundtrack. Hi-Fi Rush incorporating its soundtrack not only to fit with the mechanics of the rhythm action gameplay, but also the feedback and visual effects to make it feel not like you’re playing with music in the background, but playing to the music.

Not only are the licensed song choices top-notch picks, but the streamer mode music from The Glass Pyramids has no right being so utterly fantastic, even being better than some of the licensed tracks in at least two instances. The Glass Pyramids may be evoking the licensed songs to hit similar vibes in rhythm and tone, but their performance helps keep them from sounding like cheap knock-off covers, which could’ve been an easy trap to fall into.

Best Game You Suck At Award

Thronefall is such a small, simple game to pick up that I end up underestimating every new round I play - That is, until I find my defences crumbling around me and my king having fallen off his horse for the umpteenth time. It’s still early goings in the campaign for me, but Thronefall provides just enough variety for a small game that people who like perfecting a strategy and/or score-chasing can get a lot of time out of it.

There’s a fine line to balance between amassing defences versus strengthening the economy versus upgrades, and leaning too far in any direction can often spell disaster. Lots of fun with a surprising level of depth backing it up.

Most Innovative Gameplay Award

Much like the award for Lil Gator Game, I didn’t get to play many games this year that did much ‘different’ compared to the rest, but that won’t subtract from giving this one to Viewfinder. Using pictures and perspective may not be the newest idea on the block, but Viewfinder executes these concepts in ways that made my brain hurt but also made my brain feel like the strongest part of my body once I figured a puzzle out. The game introduces and combines gimmicks modularly, making learning, understanding and putting your knowledge into practice a necessary and rewarding experience.

Outstanding Visual Style Award

Retro callback games aren’t supposed to look this good. Like, what? Sea of Stars is meant to evoke RPGs of yore from the SNES and Genesis days, so how does it look so good?!

Facetious gags aside, Sea of Stars was the most striking game I played this year in terms of visuals, with pixel/sprite (I have a hard time telling the difference) work that’s clear, crisp, animated wonderfully and with lighting that caught me off-guard from just how - Well, just how good it looks, with shading and reflections that must have been a feat to pull off. It’s like their art director read comments about how ‘retro games look bad’ and decided to spite them in the most productive way possible.

Better With Friends Award

Darktide had a rocky start, but after the recent character/talent tree rework, the game is in a much better, stable and enjoyable place - Doubly so when rolling with people you know. I didn’t nominate Darktide for this award for it ‘just being a co-op game’, but also because the way you can build your characters’ talent trees and loadouts can lend itself to synergizing gameplay that becomes all the more powerful when communicating and organizing with your buddies. It makes the power trip of mowing through hordes of enemies more gratifying with people you know than playing with random people, since the latter are allergic to text or voice chat most of the time (those on open mic doing bong rips notwithstanding).

Labour of Love Award

It would’ve been straightforward for Hello Games to cash out and head off into the sunset after the initial release of No Man’s Sky, being yet another instance of development hell and external meddling leading to a busted, half-promised and poorly released game - But they didn’t!

For multiple years, although the gaps between updates are lengthy, said updates have been moderate to substantial in terms of content, ways to play, mechanical tweaks and improving performance. I know it’s pretentious of me to use the word, but there’s a certain kind of pride I have towards Hello Games for getting over that initial hump and overwhelming negative feedback from its release, the first few updates being dismissed to now having people actively looking forward to what’s coming next.

Game of the Year Award

Ok, so like, you can’t really be surprised by this pick, can you? If you’ve known me for any amount of time this year, you knew - You knew - Hi-Fi Rush was going to take the top spot. We’ve covered the banger soundtrack in its licensed and alternate music, but what about the other components? Like the wonderful voice-acting or the funny script with an eclectic cast backing it? What about the combat that wants you to mix things up to keep your combos and score fresh, with feedback that gets all the more hype the better you do? Ooh, what about the visuals and execution that give the game a ‘Saturday morning anime’ vibe with plenty of color, expressive characters and visuals and a story that is the manifestation of the meme ‘the friends we made along the way’?

It’s almost maddening how much joy I felt and the fun I had during my time with Hi-Fi Rush. It made me laugh, it got me teary-eyed, it made me feel and had my heart grow a size bigger - I’m hard-pressed to think of a game that made me so unequivocally happy from start to finish and hoping that it sees either an expansion or sequel down the road - All from a game that effectively came out of nowhere near the start of the year! Game of the year for me, hands down, mic drop, etc.

[Astronomically massive character spoilers ahead for both the main and post-game! Also, this article talks about personal reactions stemming from my own emotions and experiences. If you're uninterested or cynical to such stuff, this article may not be for you.]

For my enjoyment of JRPGs, these games often have many design caveats and traits that come with the territory that are easy targets to riff on. Dragon Quest XI is no exception: Hammy voice-acting by those not in the main cast, villains nefariously laughing long enough to make a snack, sexualization that's fobbed off for plot purposes but downplays a character's strengths… But it'sDragon Quest, a series that doesn't do a lot between entries with its core gameplay, but does enough to make that core gameplay solidly reliable through its many campaign hours. I mention all this because, for the Dragon Quests I've played, the stakes have never escalated beyond doomsday, apocalyptic scenarios where the protagonist needs the holy macguffin to punch the big bad square in the nose. Dragon Quest XI raised those stakes to a degree I hadn't been expecting, all through the loss of a single snarky, combative character*.

While I haven't written my full review on the game yet, one of the positives I took away was how much I liked the cast on the good guys' side. Hero* being effectively an automaton is expected Dragon Quest, but the crew that tags along with more than make up for his lack of character. Sylvando is a force all of his own, Jade's unwavering commitment to the point of concern, Erik being the best guy ever, Serena's naivete concealing how sharp she truly is… I have to stop myself before this becomes a piece on the playable characters instead. Who I didn't like initially was Veronica, Serena's duty-bound sister and offensive magic-user of the team. As you might imagine when it comes to siblings, Veronica is the antithesis of Serena: The latter is understanding, soft-spoken and generally passive, while the former is quick to anger with a hostile tone. In her defence, Veronica's anger is frequently correct and justified, but she delivers it with the same effectiveness as two motorists with road rage narrowly avoiding an accident. I tolerated such an abrasive character since her offensive magic made encounters easier. Admittedly, this is a shallow opinion, but having dealt with people like that in my life? It was hard to view her in many cheerful lights.

At the midway point of the game, the plot had popped off to an incredible and unexpected degree, with the ensuing apocalypse the crew was trying to delay occurring anyway. Veronica then casts a spell to whisk the gang off to safety to avoid succumbing to the destruction - Well, 'safety'; the following chapters involve the team overcoming their own obstacles to meet back up and return to their whole world-saving quest. I found it odd that Veronica didn't have a chapter of her own, but I cynically figured she was off bad-mouthing monsters who had taken her captive or something. Upon returning to Arboria, the sisters' home, we were ready to put the band back together when Veronica was found conked out under a tree. I figured she was utterly exhausted from the effort needed to send the team and herself to safety away from the ensuing cataclysm - How utterly, foolishly wrong I was.

Veronica didn't make it out as unscathed as the others, as she then fades away into nothing amidst an ether-like light show. Suffice to say, the gang and I shared in our gobsmacked bewilderment, and disbelief started to settle in when talk of Veronica being gone began to spring up. Disbelief then turned to denial, and because I was streaming at the time, that denial was vocalized that the game wouldn't axe a team member unceremoniously. Hero then took time to 'talk' with Serena (credit due, he's a good listener), leaving her with an inflamed resolution to see things to the end, cutting her hair down in a new style and taking Veronica's staff, and by extension, her mantle. It didn't officially hit me until the game advised that Serena had adopted Veronica's spells and opened up new segments on her character builder:

Veronica's gone. For good.

Dead.

No magic macguffin to bring her back, no new primary quest to get some elixir of revival. Deceased. My stream continued, and wrongly, I was still trying to be an "'entertaining host'" while trying to process this development, struggling to keep my nerves together as sadness and anger filled my eyes and chest. Compounded by this was the ensuing regret because despite Veronica's mouth being bigger than her brain most of the time, she was still there for the quest. To see the big bad kicked square in the teeth. To save the world as all Dragon Quests' go, help the crew, help Hero - And, by extension, me.

As I touched on in my No Man's Sky piece, loneliness hits me in distinct ways because of my life experiences and disabilities. What upset me in this instance is related because that loneliness means not having people I can confide in; talk to, vent my pains, do stuff with regularly - In other words, someone to have my back and vice versa (figuratively and literally). This being a video game, of course, Veronica could only support me in that virtual environment, but it doesn't change the fact someone who had my back was gone. Mechanically she remained due to Serena absorbing her spells and abilities to become (I would argue) the teams' strongest magic user, but no longer would we get to hear that snarky vitriol and overly confident scoffs post-victory.

The game had my number, and I was prepared to 'repay' this personal attack by overpreparing the team and giving Mordegon (the primary antagonist) a swirly, wedgie and royal beatdown in no particular order. And so I did! First try, I might add, leaving me feeling exhilarated from winning a dicey, harrowing finale and exacting vengeance for some semblance of closure. So ran the credits, and I was ready to set down my controller and call Dragon Quest XI wrapped… And then came the epilogue. And then came the discovery that Hero could travel back in time not only to keep the apocalypse from happening, but also change the course of history so that Veronica never had to sacrifice herself.

Oh no.

I saw this one of two ways: For one, this meant getting a primary character back and not having to deal with that loss whenever I think about the game. Secondly, however, this felt like the developers weren't able to commit to such a strong decision to axe a party member for good, whether for design purposes or their own judgment. In either case and with nothing else to do for objectives, Hero zip-zoomed back in time well before Veronica's death, leading him to have a brief one-on-one conversation (again, he's a great listener) with Veronica in the Arboria temple. I won't lie; hearing her angrily squawk over such minor inconveniences once again had the biggest relieved smile on my face, all while trying to avoid choking up. I really did miss that lil' crabby goon.

Admittedly I haven't finished the epilogue and any other post-game content, so I'm bracing myself for any other catastrophic occurrences. Still, it left me astounded how much I reacted and was affected - By Dragon Quest, of all things. Credit due to the writers and voice cast for being able to make me give a damn so much and making Dragon Quest XI not just be a robust and enjoyable JRPG like its predecessors, but also one I'm going to remember.

*" But there are other character deaths, too?" You might point out, yes, but I didn't respond as strongly to them as they're briefly met incidental characters or didn't have the same amount of time to build them up.

* We'll just call him Hero for the sake of ease. I know his title is Luminary, but writing 'the Luminary' repeatedly feels too wordy and formal for my liking.

Xenoblade Chronicles (Definitive Edition) on paper and in practice has many things I enjoy going for it: A fantastic soundtrack, an earnest (though riff-worthy) voice cast, big maps to explore in a unique setting, more side quests than possibly lines of dialogue… There's plenty to explore, encounter and resolve, but my enjoyment gets hampered by the combat systems that leave me feeling like I'm just tapping buttons in the hope I can make cool things happen.

Anyone familiar with (J)RPGs may already know of differing roles, like tank, healing and damage dealing, and Xenoblade Chronicles makes use of these roles too. With team compositions limited to three and taking direct control of only one character, direction in battles is guided by the player. Generally, telling your AI teammates to focus fire on one target is the way to go, but depending on the circumstances, tunnelling in on one enemy is more harmful than practical. Like many MMOs, your unlocked arts (skills/abilities) can have cooldowns whose length is typically linked to how significant an effect it has in battles; a healing burst covering an area has a longer cooldown than a lesser heal that targets only one teammate, for example. Unlike many MMOs, however, you have a finite number of arts slots. You won't have to worry about having too many until some hours into the game, but once you reach that point, specializing your controlled and AI teammates becomes more important. If Reyn is your main tank, you want him to come equipped with a lot of aggro (their term for threat/aggression against a specific target) generating arts and defensive ones. Sharla primarily is a healer, but throwing on some support arts wouldn't hurt as well.

While some arts require particular positioning for greater effects/damage, others can combo off one another. An early one is break, topple and daze, leaving an enemy to wail on without counterattack for a brief time. Since regular attacks are automated, any micro-management is for your arts and keeping your eyes and ears on teammates to know what arts they're using so you can plan accordingly - In theory. The wheels start coming off trying to cooperate with your teammates, who tosses out arts to sustain themselves, the team and deal damage, though in context-sensitive moments, restraint isn't something you can enforce on them. I've had more moments than I care to count of having a combo nearly ready to go or initiate, but Reyn already burned his arts or used it while I was trying to backslash the enemy for an extra whack of damage. No worries, then! Instead of playing as Shulk, I'll control Reyn so that I can then save the topple and daze for back to back usage when break is inflicted! Except now I'm not controlling Shulk and saving his Monado charge for when it's direly needed, like being able to damage Mechon enemies or avoiding colossal damage from specific attacks. No problem, I can play as Sharla and save her healing arts instead of burning their use when someone gets a bruise. Except no, that won't really work because now I cannot deal as much damage in comparison, making fights longer.

Granted, and as you might rightly point out, these complaints are avoided when performing chain attacks or looking into the future and warning a teammate, and these features shine wonderfully during boss fights, both mini and major. Minibosses have been more challenging than major bosses since they tend to be gimmicked, but in either case, that's been the most fun I've had with the gameplay so far. When you can directly influence your AI teammates, the hectic combat feels excellent, sound and collaborative, but when you can't, it feels like an unruly MMO group flinging out whatever's not on cooldown since it's there and ready to go. By no means do I think this system is bad! I'm more disappointed that these moments of teamwork are fleeting, especially since the cast is so chatty and supportive of one another, not limited to just cutscenes.

On the subject of speech, the English voice actors are subject to riffing like no tomorrow, but there's an earnest quality in their deliveries that just keeps them from over-acting or emoting like a hastily done anime dub. Eventually, that will wear off as unique lines of dialogue in combat will get exhausted in a hurry and make the chatter grating after a long play session. While I wish Riki would stop shouting (the title of heropon be damned) and Shulk reminding me that yes, the Monado does have power, the heroes have proven themselves to be a likeable bunch of goofs so far. It's refreshing that with their quirks and characteristics, the cast has yet to come down with a case of sudden incompetence during scenes of conflict. The opposite is true from the amount of 'just in the nick of time' situations that feel less like great sighs of relief, and more like the writers realizing they need to have an out for the heroes lest events from the prologue happen again (elaborating would be significant spoilers).

The comical number of side quests does mean there's plenty to do, but the number of cookie-cutter generic quests greatly outnumbers those with any sort of narrative about that character or the location. Still, it does mean that there's more Xenoblade Chronicles to play! An issue I run into with many JRPGs gets addressed in this one: Doing too much side content results in your characters becoming way too overpowered, whether through levels or equipment, making later content trivial. Purposely kneecapping yourself through not doing side content or wearing weaker gear are solutions, yes, but they're far from elegant. Xenoblade Chronicles lets you level characters down and up from a menu option, allowing you to be under, match, or exceed that region's level. I adore this feature and wish more games would adopt it, as while I do like the power curve of eventually stomping through once challenging areas, that doesn't lend itself when wanting to try new builds, load-outs or strategies efficiently.

While I might've put the game down for good, I'd still recommend it all the same for those looking for a new, colourful and expansive JRPG. Well, 'new'; the Definitive Edition brings in quality of life additions and tweaks that I can't wholly or confidently comment on since I didn't extensively play the original Wii release. Nevertheless, even though I'll be hearing 'REYN TIME' echo through my skull until the end of days, it's a good, well-functioning game that has many, many hours of entertainment to offer.

A warning in advance, I don't have a terrible lot of nice things to say about Paradise Killer, and I feel bad about that since the game starts so strongly and with such good first impressions: It has a female protagonist front and center, a relaxing soundtrack that makes for easy listening, the visuals and character designs are wonderful - But then comes playing the game and investigation itself. Unenjoyable writing that's frequently unpleasant to the player and paper-thin questioning leads to an experience that lost its magic for me in two hours.

The story already addresses one complaint of the game I have about how such a big, constructed island has so few people in it, but it still leaves this big, constructed island with very little interaction. It's a great map in concept as there's plenty of collectibles and blood crystals (the in-universe currency) to find with occasional side-investigations to do. Still, you'll find nearly two dozen items to pick up before you have anyone to converse with. It's so expansive, I have to wonder if there were plans to do more with it. Credit due, the island's design is fantastic in how it balances realistic suburbs for citizen districts, lavish yet professional construction for Syndicate buildings, with places of worship/holy being expectedly ominous but not comical in respect to the game's made-up gods. The island even has an infrastructure with a power plant, agricultural facility and docks, though there are reminders that your faction views its citizen workers as cattle for production, then eventual sacrifice. Further credit due, even with it feeling like I'm playing as a crow grabbing the next shiny thing in sight, meandering around the island is legitimately enjoyable. The visuals help, but the subtle environmental ambiance and easy-listening soundtrack only add to the eased experience.

Through my playing and research, Lady Love Dies (your player character) only gets two personal (excluding her Starlight computer) upgrades: Being able to see collectibles through the environment and a double jump. The latter isn't game-changing, but it can shave a few seconds here and there, most beneficial when hunting collectibles. While your first few hours of the game will be taking in the sights, enjoying your hikes while occasionally finding new music tracks, I mention these upgrades because it's disappointing that there aren't any other means of movement, sans fast travel. A way to float, glide or fly would've been welcomed, not just to get around the island with, but be able to see more of the island with those relaxed beats gently thumping in your ears. The only way to take in the lovely vistas is by doing the climbs up yourself or by using fast travel (once unlocked), the latter of which uses blood crystals - Which is also used for Crimson Acid's information brokering. I've avoided buying from Crimson yet because I'm unsure if it's a way to 'cheat' getting confidential information, and also because I want to try and solve this thing with my intuition and evidence.

Part of Lady's investigation has her exploring the environment for clues. She also does most of the thinking for you; picking up clues or discovering something has her monologue about it before logging that into Starlight. It took me a bit longer to figure out than I'd care to admit, but Starlight ends up being very handy in organizing the info into specific cases for specific people, or filing it under an unknown category if there's no concept or person to link it with - Yet. It's a great tool, though I do wish it allowed you to write in your own notes. Examining things like bodies or some indoor locations swaps to a still image with chunky question marks to click on, get a monologue dump, and then you're done; no poking around and no thorough searching. These examination scenes are weak compared to how you can wander nearly everywhere on the island, but I suppose it gets the job done so you can get back outside. The other portion of the game is questioning people and where cracks in the game start showing for me.

Questioning is limited to initial topics at the game's start and once uncovered, either through discussion or new evidence. Upon choosing a topic, there's then a back and forth discussion, the occasional dialogue choice of your own, and then info being logged into Starlight if relevant to the investigation. This would be serviceable if the script also were that succinct. There's a comical amount of fluff responses that, while it makes sense that not everyone would know about every subject, the writing likes to ridicule you for even asking it to begin with. My absolute favourite is that characters will do some variant of the joke 'you're the investigator, go investigate' instead of answering the question. This hand waving dismissiveness is even worse when you have evidence that contradicts someone's statement or testimony, and the result is simply a 'yes, and?' kind of response. Not being able to pursue contradictions is in itself a contradiction of the concept the game wants to hammer into you: Lady is the investigator, a powerful position on the island to solve the case and having jurisdiction to do so. However, the game limits her to being incredibly passive (seizing a phone and check-in records isn't that active of actions) in this role, not leaping down someone's throat when catching them in a lie or doing more when people act insufferably coy. She just begrudgingly takes the abuse, misdirections and refusals to answer at face value. While there is a narrative reason why some hold Lady in such disdain and poor regard, it gets uncomfortable. Lady doesn't bat an eye at any of it, which is a testament to her professionalism or worrying amounts of apathy.

And I do mean insufferable; characters like Akiko, Yuri and Henry are the most egregious of this, going out of their way to be unpleasant to speak with their militant threats, asshole behaviour and edgelord with coincidental amnesia, respectively. There are relevant answers to get out of them, but just about everything else makes them cartoonish in how antagonistic they're trying to be. Friendly or neutral characters become absolute rays of sunshine to visit, like Lydia, with her hopeful outlook and friendship with Lady, and Sam, a bartender who might be a bit too into his work but is still supportive. They still do the 'go investigate, investigator' joke, just with a friendlier tone. I'm arguing against myself, but you are told to build a case and find the facts upon meeting Judge. It's likely characters hand-wave and dismiss you to the point of ire because of this, but it's communicated in such a confrontational way that I'm beginning to think that the game's true meat is at the trial itself. Or it ends with fingering one person to go to the gallows with a single mouse click - I haven't gotten to that point yet since I really want to solve this thing properly. Still, I'm about ready to do everything in my power to label Yuri as guilty because, oh my word I hate him so much.

Excluding the characters written by someone having an awful day at the time, I've found it difficult to empathize with the Syndicate and Council members. While this is most likely personal views more than anything else, you are playing as and talking to people that are part of an evil organization. Trying to keep even more evil gods from doing horrendous things is understandable, but then abducting, forcing labour onto and sacrificing ordinary people to empower their gods/operations makes it hard to root for any of them. Spare me on 'the ends justify the means', as many of the Syndicate members seem keener on making and sustaining the perfect island sequence to call home versus stopping a cosmic terror apocalypse. Lady's dialogue choices occasionally let you roleplay as either obedient to this cause or poking holes in their flawed system. Like the other dialogue choices, they don't seem to influence the conversation or results; it's a way of letting you act through Lady.

My last play session of Paradise Killer had me seemingly a few steps away from reaching the primary crime scene itself, a colossal objective in its own right as it's not accessible from the start. Questioning people so far has left me with possible motives, broken alibis and lies without a terrible lot of evidence to go along with it, so hopefully reaching the crime scene will start letting things click into place. For as much criticism I have for the game, I can't deny that it poses one hell of a case to solve while looking and sounding great. Leaves me wondering why the script isn't fully voice-acted instead of occasional audible character quips, but having to listen to Yuri for longer than ten seconds would be a crime in itself.

[I’ve only just begun the chapter for the purple streamer, so there may be new things I’ve yet to see. These are my current loose thoughts on the game; a full review with differing opinions may follow in the future.]

Origami King shares part of a sentiment I have with the original No More Heroes; you’re here for the fantastic set pieces, story, bosses, and just about everything else in between is fluff to progress you along. For Origami King, that fluff comes from regular battles that have benefits and drawbacks throughout a lengthy (though witty and colourful) journey. On the one hand, not being forced to go through every encounter helps save time and patience, but on the other, it means not being able to afford things in the Mushroom Kingdom’s whack economy. With coins being both your currency and resource in battles, there’s this ludicrous swing in your savings from finding and gaining thousands of coins, only to go nearly broke when buying a new accessory or collectible.

Restoratives and equipment are reasonably priced to avoid being hosed. Still, it makes me wonder why there wasn’t a separate resource for battles to keep your coin counter from fluctuating wildly. You’re never really hurting for confetti for very long, and confetti sack upgrades feel like a superficial dopamine hit after beating a major boss - Couldn’t confetti be a resource? Throw a bunch to incite Toads assisting in a party craze, daze enemies or fold them into ninja stars? The amount of strategy in regular battles is already wafer-thin with enemies so far being aerial, protected by spikes/horns/etc. or going invisible. The puzzle ring is admittedly something I welcome as a gameplay mechanic (having the battle arena sprout up anywhere with a spectating audience is a hoot), but with the only perk to successful solving being an attack boon, it feels more like I’m just trying to clear away debris than fighting back the origami army optimally. Paper Macho enemies make for some real-time action, but they’re not very exciting or fun; dodge, wait for an opening, hit their sticker, repeat until you drown in their blo- er, confetti. I wish they were incorporated into regular battles in some way to change things up, maybe as a type of sub-boss with other origami soldiers as cannon fodder cronies. When battles get fantastic is during major/chapter bosses, as the puzzle for lining up enemies is replaced by lining up the most efficient route to run along the arena. Your arsenal doesn’t expand, but how you use it becomes a puzzle in itself to find out how to deal or avoid the most damage, let alone any damage to begin with if the boss ignores or counters head-on attacks. It’s natural for bosses to be far from one another, but they’ve been the most fun I’ve had with the puzzle ring system, plus how big a spectacle the bosses themselves are.

Par for the course with the series, the writing and world is a delight to read and explore. There’ve been plenty of funny moments, groan-worthy puns and character to go around in spades. The majority of the worlds’ residents being Toads primarily having only colours to differentiate them does get a bit old, but seeing how they fill and interact with the papery world is fun. Excluding ruins feeling atypical in their design, maps are full of colour and have enough incentive to poke around for secrets and prizes, making each chapter feel complete and worthwhile. Since nearly everything is made out of paper, cardboard or a derivative of, the world looks to be made of such shoddy construction material, but the visuals are so polished and clean that the environments feel natural despite being made out of grade school craft supplies. For a game to have battle encounters, it needs to have songs that are good and don’t get repetitive, and Origami King’s soundtrack delivers. The regular battles follow a particular theme that changes motif and instrumentation depending on the chapter you’re in, and they’re delightful bops… For combat involving puzzles. The battle themes betray the gameplay somewhat, as it feels exciting and eager for combat that doesn’t have a terrible lot of input. The boss themes, though? They fit like a musical glove to match the intensity.

I’ve started to treat Origami King like a puzzle adventure game more than anything else; the main draws for me so far has been seeing the sights, being entertained by the witty world, writing and experiencing those great boss fights. The regular battles just feel like a spot of brain flexing to gather more coins and ensure you don’t steamroll areas with scripted fights. It’s certainly not a poorly implemented system, but enemies and team compositions being as flat as the paper they’re made of doesn’t leave me wanting to pick the game back up regularly for that reason alone. However, everything else is delightful, and when I do pick the game back up, I’m rarely not smiling.

[Note: This piece contains story spoilers to the Artemis storyline. I haven’t completed the game yet, but this was such a big event that I felt like writing about it.]

No Man’s Sky getting a narrative story arc was unexpected but welcome. It gave me an objective set by the developers between my self-imposed ones, like hunting for a new ship or finding a planet to call home that wasn’t actively trying to kill me. Until that point, the main ‘story’ was to traverse the star systems to track down Atlas stations to unravel mysteries behind the what, how and why of Atlas, which wasn’t the most exciting thing around. I went into the new update mostly blind, so I was already wondering how or when the latest story would kick-off as I coasted out of a trading station, and then a distress call came through my ship communications from someone named Artemis.

Aiding others in No Man’s Sky has been limited to (as of my current knowledge) side quests and NPCs requiring a language or resource check, the latter of which not having much impact since even if you fail, that NPC remains interactive in their limited scope. The call from Artemis is, yes, the main quest line in a video game, but for No Man’s Sky, there was now a greater purpose assigned to your wanderlust and gathering of resources. It’s a sobering experience to get this call for help, and as quickly as it comes, it ends, leaving you to coast idly in your spaceship wondering just what the heck to do next. Off and on did I pursue the main quest, getting distracted with other side stuff and blueprints to construct until my focus on helping Artemis started to grow more focused. The quest went from trying to locate someone to find their busted ship with no signs of them, picking up a new trail resulting in warping to an industrial alien hellscape to follow it, trying to see where in the stars Artemis was and leaving me wondering if this was one big intergalactic prank. I had this mystery on my hands that seemed ready to solve one moment, only for a bewildering twist to occur. I was invested; literally and virtually. I wanted to see this to the end, but the story also has you assembling a specialist team for your freighter or home planet to develop and build some technologies (if you haven’t done so previously). Just when I had all the needed tech, all the clues accounted and had the trail zeroed in and was ready to rescue Artemis, one more twist occurred to stamp my hopes into dust: I found not Artemis on that distant, obscure planet - But their grave.

No Man’s Sky is a lonely game from the aforementioned lack of NPC interaction variety, and loneliness in gaming is something I’ve grown uncomfortably accustomed to over the years. Due to scheduling, time zones, health and taste in genres, the people I know aren’t frequently available for game nights, while the people I do end up meeting as strangers we end up clashing in terms of ideologies and morality. Most of my time playing online games, be them team or MMO based, is done by myself. Any other players, groups, guilds, communities etc. would be gone by the next round, dissolve due to disinterest or ignore me due to not being skilled or popular enough. You could argue that being around and playing with other players makes loneliness impossible, but tell that to someone who also feels alone when in a busy shopping mall*. Even with No Man’s Sky getting a multiplayer hub, the same scenario plays out: No one wants to chat and you’re the ‘weird rando’ if you’re going to try striking up conversation or groups. I bring this up because for No Man’s Sky to go from the nameless wanderer game to someone actively needing help is a wakeup call to my system, only further solidified when it ends up being far from a simple rescue operation. But the story went from me being the only person in the galaxy who could help Artemis to being a hapless git staring at their grave, standing in a crater on some far-flung planet in a star system I can’t hope to pronounce. There I was again, all alone and nothing to show for it.

At least the story doesn’t end there on such a debilitating note, and while I struggle to grasp the fantastical aspects, it ends up Artemis is still out there - Sort of? Kind of. Not really but really. From what I understand, Artemis still exists as a digital ghost stuck in limbo: Not dead but not quite alive, stuck on an endless loop to call for help to anyone picking up their signal but having physically kicked the bucket ages ago. Through contact with other characters leading up to that point, a plan is put in motion to build a kind of stasis chamber to capture Artemis’ signal and by figurative (maybe literal?) definition, their soul. “Huzzah! There’ll be a happy resolution to this after all!” - I thought to myself, forgetting that optimism is for fools. After tracking down some niche resources to build the not-Soul Pokeball, I headed to the Anomaly for Nada and Polo’s help for the procedure, and there, my optimism was turned around to slap me square in the face.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not fond of the sensations dread bring; blood running cold, chest feeling heavy, unable to think straight and feeling like my spirit is leaving my body for the holidays. The reason for said dread came in the form of two no-win choices.

Number one: Artemis’ ‘soul’ is effectively kept in a jar in a pocket universe where their consciousness can still explore and finally talk to you directly. However, Artemis is still inside a pocket dimension and will never see the whole galaxy ever again, alive but imprisoned, being a mere shadow of their original life.

Number two: Let Artemis’ death be finalized, releasing their soul into the ether and ending their looping existence once and for all.

Finally have a friend (other than players I can’t link up with) to have around while exploring, though Artemis would have a nightmarish existential crisis should they realize what their life now is? Or let Artemis go and once again drift through the cosmos by my lonesome with no certainty when I have the opportunity to make another buddy? It’s not often a menu with two options that put me in decision paralysis like this, but I can’t remember how long I sat there mulling this over. There was no telling how chatty Artemis would be if I brought them along, but it was the concept alone of having a companion together for the ride… Just, y’know, who’s stuck in a pocket universe with no chance of getting out. Making a lonely game not so lonely anymore was a big deal considering my history, both in gaming and outside of it. So that’s why I let Artemis go.

For as lonely as I feel, keeping someone imprisoned in a fraction of what their life used to be felt unreasonably cruel; Artemis didn’t deserve such a fate, but they certainly deserved more after having their Traveler life cut down too soon. After choosing to let Artemis die once and for all, I immediately felt regret and anguish that I haven’t encountered since playing Mother 3 and LISA. Our good friend autosave made damn sure I couldn’t double back on my decision. It wasn’t until reporting back the results to Nada and Polo and reading their reassurances that I finally broke down. There was no scene talking down to me, no UI element popping up to finger-wag at my good or bad decision, no pompous morality lecture by the developers - My choice was on my terms, and that’s all that mattered. In hindsight, I’m relieved I made this decision instead of risking Artemis finding out what their life had become - I’m not happy with either choice, but I made the one that felt the most correct in my heart at the end of the day.

For a game I initially held great cynicism towards with its launch controversy, I’m amused about how it got such a reaction from me. I’ve yet to finish No Man’s Sky so maybe there’s another big twist in this story I’ve yet to see, but this whole chapter has been something I haven’t been able to shake every time I fire the game up from now on. Shortly after this all wrapped up and I was back on my (less than) merry way, I found a beautiful, habitable water planet to call home. Not a bad way to put a bow on things.

[*This may have to do with my social/mental disability more than anything else, but that’s a discussion for another piece.]

[If you'd like to watch some gameplay and listen to an audio reading of this, following this link if the embedded video isn't working.]

It’s difficult to talk about Outer Wilds without addressing its major gimmick, so let me start by giving my closing summary first for those who don’t want to be spoiled: Outer Wilds is wonderfully open-ended, possibly allowing every player to progress in their own way. The solar system to explore and investigate isn’t the biggest, but each planet has plenty of possibilities and discoveries to find. The game does need to direct you to its ending somehow, so your patience may be tested somewhat by relearning information and clues already known a few times which can get redundant and tiring. I can’t quite call the game peaceful due to some (at least for me) frightening elements, but there’s no denying that the ambiance Outer Wilds brings really makes you feel like a fledgling space explorer… Just needing to reopen paths and doors for the umpteenth time over does make me wish someone left a key around. Outer Wilds gets a good recommendation from me if you’re after an exploration game or enjoy having a self-paced/driven narrative experience.

Now to elaborate for those not against spoilers. Outer Wilds has players taking the role of a Hearthian on the planet Timber Hearth who is set to be the next member of its expedition team into space. The initial objectives are loose before taking off: Check up on the previous expedition team members and/or get out there and start exploring. Once aboard your ship and suited up however, there’s nothing stopping you from exploring Timber Hearth or its moon. In fact, once at the ship controls your path is self-directed for which planet to explore first and for how long. To avoid running in circles and forgetting discoveries, the ship comes with a log that tracks major information or clues to investigate - Keeping your own journal handy wouldn’t hurt either. The log becomes a ‘web of interest’ in due time, connecting one location or concept to another and pointing out if you’re missing something. Your wandering starts becoming more focused, but even as mysteries and puzzles sprout up, you’re still at the helm as to when to take them on.

Your excursion into space however is marred by one unavoidable constant: In approximately 20-22 minutes after starting, the sun will explode which destroys the solar system and by extension yourself - Don’t try to outrun it, I’ve tried. This cosmic demise doesn’t mean the end; time is looped back to the start on Timber Hearth where the clock starts once more. The save file isn’t wiped as the ship log remains fully intact, just all progress, doors and paths opened are reset. This isn’t as kneecapping as it sounds since 20-22 minutes doesn’t feel all that long when in game. The developers even have options so that when talking to characters or reading text that time progresses as normal or stops altogether which alleviates the pressure to read quickly. There’s a musical cue that sounds just when the sun is about to explode which is a prime signal to hustle and wrap things up before the solar system goes up in a puff of supernova smoke. A comical constant is that the time loop seemingly kicks in right when on the cusp of a big discovery, resulting in me staring down the inevitable death while cursing at the cosmos.

My main criticism of the game could arguably be based on my own impatience, but the time loop for me didn’t become irksome until I hit the late game where my leads and clues started running out and my objectives became far more focused. Redundancy becomes an issue where information can appear multiple times elsewhere but worded differently - This is great if you’re hungry for lore, but this resulted in me growing frustrated that I wasn’t learning anything new nor how to finish the game. Design-wise this makes absolute sense since every player’s path will be different thus having repeating information means no one will miss out on lore and clues alike, but with the path I’ve taken the redundancy isn’t adding to anything. Doesn’t help that I have three or four major mysteries left to solve, one being guarded behind an area with borderline jumpscares. With where I’m at now in the game I’d just wish for the time loop to go away so I can sit down and crack these last puzzles, but admittedly that would defeat the purpose of Outer Wild’s story. The lesser criticism I have is that the piloted spaceship sometimes feels bigger than it looks, resulting in unintended bumps that can send it awkwardly careening when doing precise flight maneuvers or landings.

I wouldn’t go so far to call Outer Wilds’ loop of exploration zen; having to spelunk dark corners of abandoned locales or traverse actively hostile and unknown areas fills me with tense determination rather than blissful wonder - Don’t get me started on Dark Bramble and its ‘lovely’ residents. Even with my frustration of redundant knowledge and wariness of the unknown, there’s just something about being in the shoes of this ramshackle space program rookie that makes me want to see things through to the end. Outer Wilds also left me with a very strong, memorable imprint: Often time has to be killed in order for something to trigger or a path to open up. The player character is given a signalscope (combination binoculars and signal reader) before taking off and hints are given to tune the signal to that of the expedition members elsewhere in the system. When aimed properly, their signal comes back by way of their musical instrument. When aimed properly and with good timing, it’s possible to have every instrument play in harmony - A melody so hauntingly pleasant that it’s impossible for me to forget this experience. [Refer back to the first paragraph for my closing summary.]

[I’ve been unable to finish Baba is You so giving it a full review doesn’t feel right (at least for me). I still wanted to talk about it so blog-style it is. If you’d like to watch some gameplay while listening to my audio reading, follow this link if the embedded video isn’t working: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_I78z8MWS0 ]

I shouldn’t be surprised that I can’t even come close to finishing Baba is You. If its world map is any indication, I got just under halfway through before running into a wall, the likes of which I can’t get past without collaborating with others during my livestream or resorting to a guide - The latter however feels like a last resort in puzzle games. It’s to no fault of the game as it functions, gives you all the necessary information up front, is simple to control and introduces new rules at a healthy rate which only opens up new possibilities and obstacles which can be bonkers to overcome later on. If anything the fault lies within my silly self not being able to wrap my head around being Baba.

Word Conjunctions and Statements: The Game wouldn’t be that far off in explaining what Baba is You is all about. Take word blocks and put them together to create ‘rules’ which then affects entities, objects and the environment. Baba is You means that the titular sheep-looking-thing is controlled by the player. Wall is Stop means that walls are impassable. Skull is Defeat means that bumping into a skull requires rewinding or restarting so on. The game has such easy wording to follow that it doesn’t take long to read the level and figure out what each rule means in relation to how to win, but putting the pieces and words together to allow said winning is where things get difficult - When I say putting words together, that’s meant literally. Pushing a block allows one to break that rule or to use it elsewhere to form a new one. For example: Wall is Stop can have any of those blocks pushed out of the way which leads to walls no longer being impassable barricades, but pushing Wall into ‘is Win’ leads to said wall tiles now allowing victory if touched. The early game might sound easy but that doesn’t last very long.

My first thought about the game was how it uses grade school english and somehow won the hearts of many - Typical cynicism of me which naturally ended up being wrong. I would catch snippets of game developers on social media praising it but was curious as to why the press and other consumers were mostly quiet about it. We’ll touch on why I think that is later, but in hindsight it’s clear that people who make games had more to say about it than those who play them for work and hobby. Baba is You has that funny knack for making you feel like the smartest person in the room, but the very opposite is true when stuck on a puzzle and just staring at it in disbelief - With simple words and all the tools available, one just needs to push the right words together, right?

Box has Key but Box is Weak, but why not then make Box has Key and Box so that when Box breaks from ‘Weak’ it spawns a new box but also a key? But ‘Key’ doesn’t have ‘is Push’ so that when Key appears it can’t be pushed into Door since Door is Shut which leads to Flag is Win. Why not make Key is You so that when Key appears you can control Key and to go Door, but using yourself ends up in a fail state since Key is gone but you’re no longer Baba and-

You can see how things get silly. Don’t even get me started when Baba is Baba is introduced.

Later levels end up having so many working parts or needing to break the rule logic that once the solution clicks it’s a wonderful rush of satisfaction - Said clicks take a while to arrive though, and in my case I spent more time scratching my head and humming in thought than racking up solutions. I frequently threw my hands up in exasperation claiming that a level is impossible, only to then have everything make sense once the solution came together.

I try to avoid using tropes whenever possible but I have to pull out my ‘this game isn’t for me’ card. A friend of mine on Discord, Maxwell, summed up why that might be pretty conclusively: “It's a game by programmers for programmers. It's a niche that got big for a while, and while this game is far more accessible than most of the field, there's still going to come a moment where a layperson's ability just won't be enough.”

While unable to contact the developer for clarification, when looking at Baba is You through the eyes of a programmer it makes astronomically more sense as to why later levels become so heavy and thorough with the number of rules to form and break. This also is likely why other developers took more from it than others.

I found my brief bouts of solving levels and its ensuing joy being overshadowed by how often I would stare at the screen in stumped frustration. Some people can enjoy being in that situation; figuring out and solving these brain busters and getting gratification out of it - I just end up feeling really dang dumb. To reiterate, Baba is You is far from bad or meriting criticism for being so challenging. It’s a puzzle game where the solution is right in front of you, it’s just a matter of piecing it all together - I just don’t have the cranial capacity for it and still have a good time while doing so. It’s a weird position to be in; recommending a game that I can’t complete to save my life without resorting to a guide, but here we are. Baba is You is rotten for having so many sly, canny moments and ideas that definitely merits a buy, though under the caveat to know what you’re in for.

[There's no entry for the game on the wiki and the site won't let me make one so I can't properly post this under the review section, so blog it is.]

Cooperative games tend to fall under two distinct spectrums: One is the kind of game where every player is on the same level with no unique characteristics but relies on the team to play as a functioning squad. The other has progression and loadouts unique to each player but can lead to the more experienced/better equipped players just stomping through and effectively making themselves the ‘team captain’. Deep Rock Galactic falls into a healthy middle ground that, when combined with its theme and gameplay structure of grumpy dwarf miners going to a hostile planet to mine it of resources, makes for a wonderfully fun game that can leap between great action and meditative exploration within minutes of each other. Oh, there’s also a dedicated salute button to cheer at your teammates so that’s great by default.

Deep Rock Galactic is a first-person shooter where players take control of dwarven miners working for the titular company. The only storytelling (at this time) to uncover is that Deep Rock Galactic comes across as caring more about their equipment and profits than their workers, with said workers being blunt, brash and would likely swear a lot more if the game had an M rating. The game starts on a space station where upgrades and accessories can be swapped out and missions selected before being fired down to Hoxxes, the planet that’s crawling (pun not intended) with gaggles of insectoid creatures that don’t take kindly to resource exploiters. After arriving via drop pod miles underground, teams of one (if solo you’re accompanied by a handy drone) to four players begin their mining operation by way of chipping at mineral veins with their trusty pickaxe which doubles as a melee weapon. While turning mined loot into experience, money and upgrade materials later isn’t a new idea, it’s getting to said veins and getting around the caves that makes things interesting.

This is where Deep Rock Galactic starts to shine; with four classes available and each having their own weapons, movement tool and equipment, every class has their own roles to play while spelunking Hoxxes: While you could hack away at a wall to build a stairway up to a vein of gold, it’s much easier to point the spot out to the Engineer so they can use their platform gun and make steps up to easily reach the goods. You could wade through a pile of goo that drastically slows movement speed, or the Gunner can erect a zipline to easily pass over the hazard to save time. Got a long way to dig? Let the Driller wade through the rock effortlessly with their drill arms. With a good team, everyone more or less knows what they can and can’t do to nab all the goodies along the way, or at least make that relevant teammate know what’s needed of them. To maximize efficiency and save time both in and out of combat, everyone needs to pull their respective weight and it goes a long way in making you feel like you’re contributing and matter. Shuffling through the caves gathering minerals and using tools when needed can become downright peaceful and relaxing with occasional voice, text or pinged callouts from teammates signalling when assistance is needed.

All the meditative exploration and teamwork is nice and all, but Hoxxes is full of angry bugs looking to put a halt to all that. Ranging from grunts to Wardens that’ll buff others to Praetorians that have a nasty habit of wrecking everything, encounters can go from simple to challenging in a hurry. While enemies can be stumbled upon or trickle in with occasional ambushes, full-on assault waves can occur that’ll force everyone to dig in for a few minutes before getting back to mining. I mentioned earlier that saving time is a goal; the reason being that the longer the mission goes on, the worse and nastier the assault waves can get. There’s only so much ammo to go around until a supply drop needs to be ordered and nitra, the resource needed, is finite in supply. While the gunplay and its feedback can feel a bit weak with some weapons, battles are quite fun especially when each class uses their respective tools and equipment to get better angles for the ensuing skirmish and to assist the team. Much like with mining, each class has a role to play when it comes to dealing or avoiding damage and later upgrades allows players to tweak how their weapon and equipment works during missions. The options at this time aren’t terribly varied being performance modifications (accuracy, damage, etc.) for the most part with equipment and armor, but it can lead to testing how confident one is in their resource management; take damage and rate of fire upgrades in order to hit harder but need to resupply more often, or take ammo and capacity to resupply less but hit weaker.

Save for the character designs, Deep Rock Galactic doesn’t look great when stacked against other co-op shooters, though environmental and weapon effects are great to watch during battles with flashes of color in the dark. The visuals lend themselves to not end up being visual pollution in the long run to its credit, as everything looks distinct in terms of color and model shapes - Telling the difference between a grunt and an acid spitter or doing a sweep with your (mostly useless) flashlight to see if that glimmer in the wall is nitra or morkite. The jungle-esque environments don’t escape this however with vines and other foliage sometimes choking your vision in snug tunnels, making liberal use of the map necessary to avoid taking the wrong turn or stepping down a twenty foot drop. With how hectic assaults can be, being able to quickly and clearly pick out targets based on threat allows teams to avoid being absolutely overwhelmed - When there’s light available. The flashlights in Deep Rock Galactic are comically weak which means relying on flares that recharge on a cooldown or a Scout’s powerful flaregun, though things like explosions, gunfire and environmental effects can illuminate things albeit briefly.

Deep Rock Galactic would’ve been another generic shoot-bang co-op romp if it wasn’t for the mining and overall theme. Giving players something productive to do other than run from point A to B like a ballistic speedrun helps save it from being a repetitive slog. There’s been very few missions played where we’ve entered a big chamber and not picked it clean of minerals, pooling our tools together to make sure everyone (but mostly ourselves) can maximize our experience and income. Like with any online game there’ll be terrible people who try and ruin things for others (friendly fire only enabling this), but the community as far as I’ve seen are quick to get rid of unproductive players in favor of ones who’ll actually play for the sake of the team. Deep Rock Galactic gets a strong recommendation from me, especially if you’re after a new co-op experience.