In the latest edition of Ask RPS, our new mailbag feature where RPS supporters pose us questions that we then answer in public posts for everyone to enjoy, we're turning our gaze to that loved and loathed staple of the video gaming landscape: achievements. Ah, achievements. Never mind if they're good or bad. Today, we're remembering the terrible things we've done to actually get them.
The question comes courtesy of Fachewachewa, who asked: What's the worst thing you've done for an achievement? Or more generally, a time you were focused on a specific goal in a game, reached it (or gave up), and after, looked back and thought, "Why did I do that?"
Why, indeed. Come and find out which achievements have spawned our biggest gaming regrets, and why not tell us about your own gaming follies in the comments? We can all wallow in our foolishness together.
]]>“At some point," says Joel Jordan, "Animal Crossing poses the question to you with alarming force: how do you want to spend your time?”
Allow me to open with the scoundrel’s refuge that is a seemingly weighty dichotomy: I reckon there’s two really special types of indie games. Those that work wonderfully despite their smaller scope, and those that work wonderfully because of it. It’s that second kind - the particular and peculiar voyages into the miniature and mundane - that really spin wonders. Games like Unpacking, PowerWash Simulator, and Dinkum. Games humble enough in scope, and curious enough in outlook, to be uniquely capable of framing everyday experiences so that their inner oddness and strange magic - unfairly dulled by familiarity - shines.
So, when Jordon - solo dev on the upcoming Time Bandit - brings up the question: how do you want to spend your time? I’m left pondering it for far longer than I think I otherwise would, thinking about it in context. The obvious answer here is: playing an videogame, please. But Time Bandit’s free demo doesn’t take long to make me almost uncomfortably aware that there’s more than one way to play something. I don’t even need to be anywhere near the PC. I might actually be playing it more when I’m not [X-Files music, but also I’m going somewhere with this].
]]>After some unforeseen technical hitches, I'm pleased to say that, finally, the next free key giveaway for RPS premium supporters is now live. Yes, right now, so go on. Hop to it.
]]>UPDATE #2: Hello again folks. Sorry again for all the confusion over this week's free game key giveaway. Thankfully our tech wizards have now sorted all outstanding technical problems, and we will now be holding the giveaway on Monday, July 18th, at 4pm BST / 8am PT. Thanks again for your patience on this. As ever, I'll write another post on Monday a few hours ahead of the giveaway going live to remind everyone when it's taking place.
]]>Aside from our eternal love and gratitude, lovely folks who choose to support RPS at the premium tier get extra perks - and one of those is getting regular access to free game keys. Today I'm excited to tell you that we have two more games stepping up to the code plate, and you can choose one of them to take home for free later this week: The Longing or Ghost On The Shore, both beautiful and contemplative games.
]]>Popularity poses an interesting dilemma for any piece of media, but especially for those that thrive on their secrets. Attention is the held-breath hope of most aspiring indie developers, but a large enough community will excitedly share guides, forum posts and screenshots that illuminate every last hidden corner of a game. That might well be antithetical to the intended player experience, or an artist’s ultimate goal for their work.
Who are the enthusiasts who wade into the secrets of a game on behalf of other players? What are their motivations and expectations? And how do developers feel about the short-work illumination of their years of work? To see how the dynamic between an active community and a game's developers can play out, I decided to speak to the principal creator of this year’s brilliant "sad tamagotchi" game The Longing, as well as the two creators of its most visited guides.
]]>This is the last entry in my diary of playing The Longing, a "sad tamagotchi" game that can take over a year to play. As it turns out, however, it only took me a few months. The first entry in the diary series is here, and you can read all of it here. It has been... emotional.
You join us as Burnsy, which is what we've named the Shade creature we are caretaking, is trying to explore the very upper areas of the cave. My ultimate goal is for them to escape, leaving the caves and their slumbering master, the King, far behind. I think that it is, secretly, what Burnsy wants to do, even though it conflicts with their feeling of duty. But they are such a poetic soul, and they dream so much of the surface. I want them to achieve their dream.
]]>The Longing is a game that takes 400 days to play. You control A Shade, a little servant to an underground king who's taking a very long nap, and in those 400 days you can... well, you can lots of things. Explore the caves. Build a nice home. Sit and wait.
But I have been playing The Longing for about three months now, and my goal has been, and remains... to escape! I want to give our Shade, who we have named Burnsy, a better life on the surface. This has proven more difficult than I first imagined. But we are still working on our list of other goals, too. This latest chapter in Burnsy's life gets a bit grim, though. Or at least, I get a bit grim.
]]>The Longing takes 400 days to play. Not like, in-game days, I mean 400 full rotations of our actual real-life planet. The game launched today, so if you make a start right now you should have it finished by Friday 9th April 2021. It's a sort of adventure/idle game where you look after a Shade trapped underground whose only goal is to wait.
There's lots of things you can do in the game other than wait, of course, you can explore, make your Shade a little home, paint, or even try to escape if you're feeling brave. Alice Bee is doing a Diary Of The Longing and, in her most recent entry, she made her poor Shade (who she named Burnsy) trip out on mushrooms.
]]>We return to the dark, dank caverns of the underground, where A Shade faithfully waits, for 400 days, for their king to wake. If you need to catch up, The Longing is a game that takes approximately 400 days to play. You control A Shade, a little inkblot of a creature living deep in the ground. Although they are currently a devoted servant to the aforementioned King, I am willing them to become a republican. In the interval since my last (and first) entry about The Longing, the game has gained a release date! Soon - on March 5th, in fact - you'll be able to embark on this solemn, slow journey yourself. I promise it is actually very rewarding.
]]>You may recall that for some time now I have been quietly longing, lol, for The Longing, a "sad Tamagotchi" game where you, a small servant to a subterranean rock king, must hang about while he has a nap for 400 days. 400 real time days. This game takes over a year to finish. And it has multiple endings, which include reaching the surface, or just sitting in a sad, damp cave for the entire time.
This is, I suppose, technically a preview. The precise release date hasn't been pinned down yet, but reviewing The Longing in a conventional way would be almost impossible in any case. Instead, I'm going to update you every month or so on my own progress in a diary. With the multiple endings in mind, our ultimate goal for this series will be... escape!
]]>This would not be RPS if I didn't return from Gamescom and write minimally about the triple A-xtravaganzas and maximumly about smaller, weirder things wot I saw. So here, have at it: my favourite of the independently made games I saw at this year's show. I flatter myself that the selection is broad enough that it covers genres to suit every taste. Strategy games! Card games! Building games! I haven't picked all story driven adventure games or RPGs! That's personal growth on my part, that's what that is.
Highlights include the one about loneliness, the one about loneliness, and the one about death.
]]>I am not hip enough for A Maze, the international games festival held in Berlin. Like every game developer convention, its schedule is dotted with workshops, talks and games to play. But during the festival I also helped make a zine, learned how to not read tarot cards, got my nails painted, and helped deal with the byproducts of paper-shredding game The Book Ritual. There was a lot of paper. We made art with it.
The weirdest thing about A Maze is that it carries on well into the night, with live music and performances. Some people even dare to dance. I am a quiet soul. I do not dance. I prefer the British school of thought, which dictates that around 5pm, we abandon every pretense of vitality and go get smashed in a pub. And yet, I somehow survived this extremely tiring experience. And I played games. All the games. Here are the ones I liked best.
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