Really good and unique 3D platformer, which is rarer than you think. It is also a metroidvania(!), which may sound like a slog in a 3D space, but is surprisingly tight once you become familiar with it.

The real sauce here is that wonderful movement. The air-kick wall rebounds may take some getting used to, but once you get to grips, everywhere feels accessible. Sequence breaking comes very naturally in this game, as you push to see what you can do with Siybl's movement, rather than wandering to find items.

Of course, some solutions do require powerups, and while there are only 10 major powerups, each one is a worthwhile addition to Siybl's moveset. What starts at awkward bumbling and air kicking, becomes suped-up bunny-hopping through levels. 3D platformers live or die by their feel and despite its amateur appearance, Pseudoregalia has the fluidity of an auteur.

Which is why it pains me so that Pseudoregalia remains a tad amateur and rough in places. Moment-to-moment gameplay is spotless, but menu UI is real rough looking and several cutscene moments lack audio queues or music. The game originally didn't launch with a map, and considering how much I used it, I think it's pretty important addition. The metroidvania design works for the most part, but there is certainly "dead space" with connection rooms that feel redundant. I do feel these can add to the non-linearity further, but it doesn't feel great to explore a new area to find it was just an alternate connecting path to another level. These things are so very minor that all it needs is a bit of spit and polish to be one of the most compelling titles of 2023. Which considering this was pratically a one-person-show of a game, I aquate to monstrously high praise, and I will certainly be buying their next game.

Oh and it's also got a goat-bunny-cat lady with a massive arse and tits.

A poisonous swamp that houses a haunted video poker machine.

Your task is simple, make the best poker hands you can. This involves a mixture of calculating probabilities and approximating luck, much like actual gambling. And with that comes the intoxicating nature of gambling, its drug-like qualities of unreal highs and unbearable lows.

The thick haze of the CTR filter, hypnotic soundtrack and psychadelic backdrops help keep eyes glued to the machine. And it is a machine that offers you no humanity. Instead there's nothing but clowns, harlequinns and jesters. The Kings, Queens and Jacks are faceless. Your opponents are represented by symbols, not little goober avatar guys. Your only company is the smiling faces of your synergy-supplying, number-juicing joker cards.

Play for a while, and you'll get that run. Your standard 52-card deck twisted beyond recognition, consistently delivering unthinkable hands. A thick line of jokers, all firing off to set your score to supernova. Aggressive mulligans for greedy first turn kills that flush your system with bittersweet dopamine. But the numbers keep scaling, reaching scores higher than grains of sand on earth. No matter how high you roll, the house always wins.

The run comes crashing down, with so little fanfare from the game. My focus pulls away from the machine, and to my clock. 3am. Past my bedtime. Again.