75 reviews liked by cycito


YOU -- "But what if humanity keeps letting us down?"
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST -- "Nobody said that fulfilling the proletariat's historic role would be easy. It demands great faith with no promise of tangible reward. But that doesn't mean we can simply give up."
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST -- "I guess you can say we believe it *because* it's impossible. It's our way of saying we refuse to accept that the world has to remain... like this..."

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A 2 week old fetid corpse hangs from a tree, a ghastly sight; a human life reduced to a macabre piñata for small children to pelt stones at in a twisted idea of entertainment. The children themselves, a hopped-up junkie and a nameless orphan respectively, both the result of a broken system that has unequivocally failed them. The district of Martinaise, pockmarked by the remnants of revolutionary war, abandoned by the world at large, it and its people subject to the pissing contests of petty government officials to see who is lumped with the task of looking after the place, the site of a months-long, on-the-brink-of-warfare labor dispute that's about to boil over with the lynching of a PMC soldier who was meant to "defuse" the situation. All of this, left to the hands of a suicidal, vice-riddled husk of a cop who can barely get his necktie down from the ceiling fan without potentially going into cardiac arrest. Disco Elysium is an undeniably depressing experience that isn't afraid to cover the messy spectrum of humanity, from insane race-realist phrenologists to meth-addled children to every kind of ghoulish bureaucrat under the sun. The district of Martinaise, as fictional as it is, is a place I've seen before, reflected in the streets, reflected in the people, reflected in the system; an undeniably full-faced look at the horrors faced by those below, and the resulting apathy expressed by those above.

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SUGGESTION -- Brother, you should put me in front of a firing squad. I have no words for how I failed you.

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Every aspect of Disco Elysium reflects its overall theme of "failure". Martinaise itself has been failed by the institutions meant to help it, abandoned by the powers that be, who only intervene when it looks like anyone is trying to enact change. NPCs can reminisce on days gone by, of the tragedies in their past, or of their cynical rebuke of the future. The various schools of political thought you can adopt and their representatives are mercilessly picked apart, from the Communists too entrenched in theory to take notice of the suffering around them, to the frankly pathetic fascists who use their prejudiced beliefs to shield themselves from their own flaws. Our protagonist is constantly haunted by his past and even starts the game recovering from his own self-destructive ways, and on a gameplay level, the way that our intrepid detective can fumble the bag in nearly every way imaginable and still be allowed to make progress in investigations and sidequests is commendable. Failure is so integral, so vital to Disco Elysium that it's not only an aspect deeply ingrained in its story, but also its very gameplay.

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VOLITION [Easy: Success] -- No. This is somewhere to be. This is all you have, but it's still something. Streets and sodium lights. The sky, the world. You're still alive.

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And yet, despite this cloying cynicism and acknowledgement of the ugliness of reality, Disco Elysium is magical because of the fact that it ultimately believes that there is a world worth fighting for in the end. It would be incredibly easy to be defeatist in the face of such constant, institutional and societal failure we are presented with in Revachol, to be ceaselessly apathetic in the face of your own overwhelming shortcomings, to fall back into the comfort of old vices instead of facing our problems head on. Still, Disco Elysium has that fire inside of it, an untapped hatred for fence-sitting, for passivity in the face of oppression and valuing the status quo over any meaningful change. Roll up your sleeves and fight for a better future.

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RHETORIC -- "You've built it before, they've built it before. Hasn't really worked out yet, but neither has love -- should we just stop building love, too?"

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STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST -- "In dark times, should the stars also go out?"

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RHETORIC -- "Say one of these fascist or communist things or fuck off."

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Disco Elysium believes in the people. It believes in humanity, no matter how messy our supposed paragons are, or how flawed our beliefs and values can be, or how cyclical we can be in the face of it all. In a city plagued by an inability to move on, Disco Elysium says that there is always a possibility of change. If two broke Communists and a junkie wino can defy the very laws of physics in a slummy apartment, no matter how briefly, with the power of their faith and co-operation; imagine what we could do as a group. As a city. As a species.

Disco Elysium says that the cup is half full. Even if we won't see the own fruits of our labor in our lifetimes, it still looks you in the eyes and says:

"The only promise it offers is that the future can be better than the past, if we're willing to work and fight and die for it," a conviction belted out by the youths of tomorrow.

"Un jour je serai de retour près de toi", written in bright burning letters across a market square.

"TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE/ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD--FOR NEW PEOPLE/IT IS TOO LATE FOR US," painted on the side of an eight-story tenement.

"Disco Inferno...," a lone voice belted out through a boombox's speakers across a frost-bitten sea.

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MANKIND, BE VIGILANT; WE LOVED YOU

For all that Dark Souls is touted as "tough but fair" (which it definitely isn't) Sekiro actually lives up to that description, perhaps because it deviates in key ways from the Souls formula. Where Dark Souls focuses on fantasy lore and dreadful exploration, Sekiro emphasizes stealth and high-energy, high-accuracy combat. Although the low-fantasy historical setting doesn't appeal to me, the levels are evocative and intricately designed. Sekiro's razor sharp encounter design repeatedly capitalizes on the emotional rollercoaster from "this is definitely impossible" to "I have achieved the impossible!" In terms of the apparent goals of the work Sekiro might be a perfect game. At the very least, I think it perfectly captures the "ninja warrior" experience while avoiding cumbersome realism or an overpowered protagonist.

This game was sold to me as a cyberpunk disco elysium where you played as a fugitive on a corporate space station doing anything to survive. Although the comparison is apt, as both games are TTRPG style narrative experiences from burgeoning indie developers and containing a strong anti-capitalist and pro-community message, and this game has taken inspiration from the former in some ways, I feel the comparison ultimately did a disservice to the game, as I came expecting a fun, funny experience full of hijinks.

Instead I got Citizen Sleeper, a much more earnest tale which forgoes' Elysium's humorous cynicism and instead builds a wholesome but realistic and stress inducing experience which sets it apart from contemporaries.

Along the way it also manages to weave in seamlessly the lives of many fantastically illustrated (in both meanings of the word) characters which force an emotional attachment onto the player that makes our player character's decisions feel completely in tune with the players own feelings. There is no need for infinite pathways and dialogue options when you have writers who are simply able to make you want to do what you are allowed to do within the framework of their game.

Mechanically this is more of a game than Disco Elysium, as Citizen Sleeper's carefully designed dice system interacts with the story in such a way as to make you feel the pressure of your situation with every step of the way.

I cannot stress enough how every aspect of this game feels like it's guiding me into personal growth, into my feelings on The Eye and its inhabitants changing in tune with the game's progress as if i was another carefully planned part of the world.

I cannot wait to see what the team at Jump Over The Age has in store for the sequel set in this galaxy that's ripe for further exploration.

One of the most enjoyable survival games I have played.

+ Finally, a survival game with NO supernatural elements and no zombies. Only the environment, weather and animals. Refreshing!
+ Really engaging gameplay of managing your health, temperature and scavenging for items.
+ The loneliness and the cold drive home the point that you're on your own.
+ Great, artistic "watercolor" artstyle, but one that is not overwhelming.

I'd definitely recommend this game for anyone who hates survival games in general.

The kind of game you never really finish. You just walk away for a while and come back knowing you have a lot to learn all over again. It keeps feeling like a new game with more things to find every time I pick it up again. It'll be shelved from time to time, but I'll never abandon it.

It makes you feel the isolation of never finding another living person, the desperation of watching your wood supply burn away as the wind rages on, the euphoria of figuring something out and surviving something risky. It's a deceptively complex game with simple goals: don't starve, don't die of thirst, don't freeze. There's no hand holding, there isn't even a tutorial. Things are intuitive enough that it isn't really necessary. There's a thriving, welcoming community to help you out if you get stuck. Highly recommend if you need to burn through a few hours.

A first person shooter in which you won’t get a gun for the first 50 hours and there is only one enemy: Canada.

By the time you do find a gun, you will feel quite foolish to be holding it. For one, you won’t know how to use it, and you’ll have only four or five bullets to learn; your aim will sway and shake from the cold as you look nervously down the sights. For two, what are you going to do, exactly? You can’t shoot a Canadian winter to death.

And by this point, perhaps you won’t want to kill Canada anyway. The snowscape is haunting and beautiful, and every time you stop to get your bearings, each frozen scene looks like a perfectly painted postcard… except for the wolves moving like shadows at the far treeline… except for the thudding of heavy snow from the pines that might instead be the thudding of a bear just over the next hillside… except that every moment spent admiring the scenery is bought with your calories, with heat, water, fatigue… and now there are terrifying gray clouds scudding in from the west…

Do you truly want to take that shot now? With those wolves nearby, with the blizzard coming on?

Or do you break for your cabin, and try to survive another long night, hungry in the dark?

The Long Dark might well be my favorite game of all time. It came along in the post-Minecraft boom of lonesome survive-em-ups, but after a decade of constant development it’s still unsurpassed in the genre. Every time I install, for instance, a survival mod for a game like Skyrim, I find myself thinking “I see you’ve stolen a bunch of stuff from The Long Dark, but I wish you’d stolen more.”

Here the basic mechanics are tuned as taut as violin strings, working in concert and in conflict with each other to always leave you feeling pressured, and make every small gain feel like a hard-fought epic win. The sound of the snowy woods is wonderfully authentic, the art style is painterly and original. Mass Effect’s Commander Shepard [i.e. Jennifer Hale or Mark Meer] plays the Canadian voice of your internal monologue, and it’s weirdly perfect. Much like the real Canada, it’s occasionally monotonous but sometimes breathtaking.

I played over two hundred hours on the early Steam builds before switching to the PS4 version, since it looks gorgeous on a big tv and it feels more fun to chase for trophies on a console. I think the game is best on the second-hardest difficulty (“Interloper”) though I dial it down to play on the slowest day-night cycle, because I like to have a bit of time to think and chew the scenery between life-and-death decisions. (That said, it’s worth noting that nearly all of the games trophies can be unlocked on any difficulty level. Faithful Cartographer, here I come.)

You may not enjoy it as much as I have, but I absolutely would recommend this to anyone. It’s been a five-star game since about 2014, and Hinterland’s ongoing updates just keep making it better.

Die gelenkte Demokratisierung der Galaxie

In einer Zeit, in der die Galaxie unter der düsteren Wolke der Tyrannei leidet, erhebt sich ein Spiel wie ein strahlender Leuchtturm der Hoffnung: Helldivers 2. Eine epische Kreuzzugssimulation, die nicht nur darauf abzielt, die außerirdischen Kreaturen mit der glorreichen Flamme der Demokratie zu säubern, sondern auch eine kühne Vision davon bietet, wie das Spreading of Freedom™ tatsächlich aussehen sollte.

Meine Reise begann auf den sozialen Netzwerken, wo das Spiel mich schneller erfasste als ein Helldiver einen demokratischen Freiheitskämpfer beim Anblick eines Diktators. Die Community ist das pulsierende Herz dieses Unterfangens. Wir verbreiten die gute Nachricht der Demokratie, erstellen Memes, die würdig genug sind, um an den Wänden des Weißen Hauses zu hängen, und tauschen Taktiken aus, die so raffiniert sind, dass selbst Sunzi einen Moment innehalten würde.

Das Gameplay? Oh, es ist so geschmeidig wie die Reden von Joel. Jede Ausrüstung, von der 500 kg schweren Bombe bis hin zu Exosuits, fühlt sich so richtig und präzise an, dass man fast denkt, sie seien von den besten Militäringenieuren der Über-Erde gefertigt worden. Vier Wochen lang habe ich in diesem Spiel Abwechslung erlebt, die so erfrischend war wie die Freiheit selbst. Obwohl sich Missionen wiederholen, bietet jede Begegnung eine neue Möglichkeit, die gelenkte Demokratie zu verbreiten – und das mit unterschiedlichsten Verbündeten und Ausrüstungen.

Aber, meine Mitbürger der Sterne, kein Kreuzzug ist ohne seine Herausforderungen. Die größte für mich? Die vielen Abstürze auf meinem PC, anscheinend eine Verschwörung der AMD-Grafikkarten gegen die glorreiche Sache. Doch wie unsere tapferen Helldivers sagen würden: "Kein Opfer ist zu groß, keine Grafikkarte zu unzuverlässig, um uns von unserer Mission abzuhalten!"

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The Managed Democratization of the Galaxy

In an era where the galaxy suffers under the dark cloud of tyranny, a game rises like a beacon of hope: Helldivers 2. An epic crusade simulation that aims not only to cleanse alien creatures with the glorious flame of democracy but also provides a bold vision of what Spreading of Freedom™ should actually look like.

My journey began on social networks, where the game captivated me faster than a Helldiver spotting a democratic freedom fighter at the sight of a dictator. The community is the pulsating heart of this endeavor. We spread the good news of democracy, create memes worthy of hanging on the walls of the White House, and exchange tactics so sophisticated that even Sun Tzu would pause for thought.

The gameplay? Oh, it's as smooth as Joel's speeches. Every piece of equipment, from the 500 kg bomb to Exosuits, feels so right and precise, one might think they were crafted by the best military engineers of the Super Earth. For four weeks, I've experienced variety in this game that was as refreshing as freedom itself. Even though missions repeat, every encounter offers a new opportunity to spread guided democracy – with a variety of allies and equipment.

But, my fellow citizens of the stars, no crusade is without its challenges. The biggest one for me? The many crashes on my PC, seemingly a conspiracy of AMD graphics cards against our glorious cause. Yet, as our brave Helldivers would say: "No sacrifice is too great, no graphics card too unreliable to keep us from our mission!"

work of art. the video game of all video games

This review contains spoilers

Nothing hits like the moments you're alone and following the sound of someone's music through an alien and empty world. They're out there. You can find them. You're not actually alone.

What incredible art that can make you say, "Yes, my life is impossibly small and inconsequential, but I need to get up every day and keep going because there's just so much to experience."

The first Armored Core game I played where I wasn't a drooling baby. The game was a blast and genuinely fun to the point where I finished the game 3 times for each ending in a week from its launch. Pre-patch Balteus, though, was one of the best fights I've had in games. Customization of its parts and weapons as well as painting your mech make it even more ATTRACTIVE. The only problem I had was with the camera controls being slow for my taste, making enemies hard to track, especially when they move so fast that you lose your lock easily. Appearing behind you (I have trouble activating the quick-turn).