On the list of archaic platitudes I’ve heard since childhood, that is the one that bothers me the most. A lot of life lessons can be truncated or adapted for comprehension by even the smallest child, leaving nuances or more complex concepts on the shelf for “when they’re older.” You do not have to look far or wide to see the material harm wrought by this adage at all levels of human society. Words have an exceptional capacity for infliction and damage, and they should not be underestimated or dismissed.

The goal of this proverb is to teach kids to avoid becoming disproportionately upset when another child mocks them, typically through ignoring the problem. It idolizes a very “stiff upper lip” mentality, and in some cases it’s a valuable approach and a worthy skill to teach kids. However, that’s not true in all cases. I’m sure we’ve all heard revisions or corrections to sayings like this in the past, with one example being “blood is thicker than water” being extrapolated out of “the blood of the pact is thicker than the water of the womb,” which flips the meaning of the shortened form entirely. Yet, I’ve never heard a revised variation for my least-favorite of these old sayings, so I shall endeavor to rectify this now:

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but bones can heal just fine. Words written with hate and scorn will scar me time after time.”

———————

As a gacha game, Limbus Company regularly adds new units to its roster for players to pull for via random draw banners. One such unit was added toward the end of June; a unit anticipated by the playerbase for roughly half a year. I’m going to call this unit “Thumb Rodion.” Her full label is The House of Spiders: The Thumb Nursefather Rodion if you’re curious, but all you need to know is her name is Rodion and as this unit, she is a member of The Thumb, one of the five big-shot criminal syndicates in the game’s setting.

Limbus Company does a lot of unusual things that separate it from other gacha titles, and one of these deviations is in how it conceptualizes its units. Normally, a gacha game will field a roster of various characters, but in Limbus Company, players only have access to the same cast of 12 characters. Instead of gaining new characters outright, players gain alternate versions or “Identities” of those 12 characters, typically from alternate realities where they’ve taken the place of other characters in the story, or became members of the myriad factions in the setting. Imagine a hypothetical Legend of Zelda gacha game where you build a team out of Zelda, Link, and Ganondorf, and instead of getting new characters like Midna or Tingle, you unlock versions of the trio such as Happy Mask Saleswoman Zelda, Zora Link, and Lon Lon Ranch Owner Ganondorf. That’s more or less how Limbus Company works.

As Thumb Rodion, Rodion takes on the role of Valencina, a major antagonist in the game’s 9th chapter, “Canto IX: The Unsevering.” Valencina is a Nursefather of the House of Spiders. To truncate a lot of details, the House of Spiders is a dead-end facility where the Five Fingers have dumped powerful once-members of their syndicates who have fallen from grace for one reason or another. They’re called Nursefathers as they’re effectively nurturing a special sort of person for a specific goal in order to prove they still have some value to the Fingers.

In Valencina’s case, she was promoted to a high position within The Thumb, a mafia-styled faction with strict rules and decorum, and despite her family name, was demoted and disowned after three days. When a war breaks out, she’s called into service as a formidable combatant, and though Valencina seeks to regain her lost glory and status, successfully fighting tooth and nail as a war hero of sorts, she is denied reinstatement. She’s abrasive, alcoholic, and aggressive. She treats two separate characters as items to be used and discarded, literally calling them “Textbook” and “Ticket” instead of their actual names. She’s the epitome of a prodigy being cast out for a single mistake, spiraling down into the depths of every bottle, and erupting into curse-laden diatribes at anyone who so much as looks at her funny.

Valencina (or more accurately, Thumb Rodion) had been a long-awaited unit, since Canto IX launched back in December, as she’s one of the first characters introduced in that chapter. This makes it all the more disappointing that in the English translation for Thumb Rodion, one of her dialogue lines features a slur.

When you unlock units in Limbus Company, and upgrade them to a certain point, you unlock a story vignette. These provide some additional background information; glimpses into the life of that character in this new context as they take on the role of another character, or work under another faction. As Limbus Company is a Korean game, its contents must be translated into English, and one line in Thumb Rodion’s Identity Story reads as follows:

“*puff* All right, then. Never thought that stuttering ****** with her E.G.O and the clankin’ tin-girl could stop ya, anyway.”

I’ve censored the slur, as it has no place here. Truthfully, I was hoping this would be a simple error of judgment, where those responsible either weren’t aware of the charged nature of the term or didn’t think it would be as big of a deal as it insidiously is, and the community at large would request its alteration. After all, regardless of what Korean term was used, the translation team would be savvy enough to know not to heedlessly implement a slur in the official translation, right? Surely it would be patched out and remedied within a week or two, right?

That does not seem to be the case, as we’re now weeks from the unit’s launch and there have been no changes to this line. This particular slur has gained more and more usage in online spaces over the last couple of years. I personally have seen it used in social media posts and replies the most, but there has been one instance last year where someone I was in a Discord call with said it out loud as a self-admonishment. One thing that’s clear to me is that this slur has become a lingual crutch for a decent number of English speakers online. I don’t want to simply dismiss this as the “erosion of morals among younger generations” because while I do tend to see its usage more often among younger people, it’s not like people my age and older unilaterally stopped saying the word, and the recent spread of its usage has permeated throughout the age strata. I’m mentioning younger people here because they tie into a hypothesis of mine regarding this slur’s use in Limbus Company.

If I had to guess, I’d say the slur’s application in Thumb Rodion’s Identity Story is a thoughtless inclusion banking on the “social credentials” of using current-era slang. Consider a unit released much earlier in the year: The House of Spiders: The Middle Apprentice Ishmael. Much like how Thumb Rodion is based on Valencina, Middle Apprentice Ishmael is based on Kira. I bring this up because Kira is written as the sort of person who says things like “aurafarming” which make her stand out as a more youthful character, and her language reflects that (Middle Apprentice Ishmael also uses this style of language.) Had Limbus Company been released a few years earlier, Kira would be written with different slang terms and phrases, to match the ones in use by youths at the time; she’s exactly the sort of character you’d write to say things like “sus” and “pog” since she’s also a gamer. My reasoning is that since they wrote Kira in that specific way, and Limbus Company‘s translation has a tendency to keep up with modern English language trends, the translation personnel were aware of the rise in usage of this slur and thought it would be okay to insert it into this vignette. That’s the extent of thought that went into using it.

I could make the case that by not saying which slur it is, it makes it more difficult for “proponents” of its usage to vie for it. Because it’s a slur they deem acceptable to use, and it’s one that’s unfortunately in vogue in the cultural zeitgeist of today’s lexicon, they’ll impishly claim that it’s “actually fitting for the character,” or that it “makes sense in context”.

Bullshit.

Would they make these arguments if it were a different slur? I suppose that depends on the individual, and I have no doubt some who bristle at that question would defiantly claim that they’d still make those arguments, when they know full well that using such terms in public and professional contexts would and will have consequences. The fact remains however, that Valencina never says the slur once in all of her dialogue. She was already written with a more fitting form of dehumanizing speech with her calling people objects and denying them their names, so such a vulgar term was unnecessary. Its inclusion here is even worse then, as while Valencina never says the term, Rodion in Valencina’s place does. Rodion is a complex character, but not the sort of person you’d expect to sling any kind of slur given her history and general demeanor. Now, it’s not strange at all for these characters to adopt different personas and attitudes as they use these Identities. Hong Lu often retains his upbeat joviality across his Identities, but this can be extinguished outright or twisted to juxtapose against the violence he commits depending on the context of the Identity. The normally uptight and strict Outis can be seen in more mellow or casual hues in a likewise manner, and this applies to the full main cast of Limbus Company. But never has there been a situation where a slur was involved in the localization, either in the narrative or in these little vignettes, and in such a callous and careless manner at that.

The language we use matters. For five years, I worked with children with learning disabilities, from kindergartners to fifth-graders. I’ve worked with people who have ADHD, ODD, autism, Down Syndrome, etc. You name it, I’ve probably worked with somebody who had it. One afternoon, during the after-school program, outside on the playground, I overheard a student say this exact slur. I called him over, and had him sit on one of the picnic tables for a timeout. I do not remember what I said to him exactly, but I remember being very clear and stern about the fact that such a term is not to be used. It wasn’t a term he specifically was disallowed from saying; none of us should be saying it. It’s not a term one should want to say, and if any other student said it, they’d be in the same situation he was in now. I told him that his mother, a coworker of mine at the school who worked with many of the same students I did, would be very unhappy if she knew he had said such a term. I told him that I wouldn’t mention this to his mother as he was already taking a timeout, and it was a singular mistake, but he needed to make sure he left the word unsaid.

He never said it again, at least in my presence. I would like to hope he left it behind, as I did in middle school. Because that’s what it sounds like to me whenever I hear it. There are two kinds of people who use this slur: middle-schoolers who are wont to make as many mistakes as humanly possible as they grapple with entering the tumultuous period of life where you’re not quite a child and not quite an adult and your pituitary glands are wreaking havoc all over; and people who were eligible to vote in 1980, who have given up growing as people in favor of living within the small confined worlds they’ve built up around themselves. Apart from this resurgence where I cannot go a week without reading that slur in a comments section or thread, that anecdote with that student was the most recent time I can recall hearing it; a snapshot from an afternoon almost ten years ago.

It may sound silly to stipulate on a singular slur in a video game where the setting is such that every horrible cyberpunk dystopian thing you can think of is somehow a million times worse. Where an entire district has legalized cannibalism, public transportation is a certifiably incomprehensible nightmare (and in the game too,) and you can be teleport-murdered for having a clone of yourself be alive for too long. Surely some people in this setting use slurs and pejorative terms for one another. But I’m not arguing about the slur’s suitability for the setting or the plausibility of its usage by this or that character.

I’m arguing that the slur has no value here, and only serves to tarnish the image of Limbus Company and the reputation of Project Moon along with it. This is a term with an extremely compromised and gruesome history; it should not be used without due consideration and an explicit, deliberate purpose. One must ask: “What was the objective in its usage here?” Is it being used in an academic context for a linguistic study or dissection? No. Is it being recorded as a matter of historical authenticity, accurately reflecting decades-old documentation or interview transcripts so that we maintain a complete understanding of a particular time and place, eschewing the desire to paint the past with a rosy tint? No. Is it being leveraged by a person who has been scarred by the slur as a means of connecting their experience to others through writing or song or poetry or some other medium? No.

When you work with people the term has historically been weaponized against, in order to demonize them and divest them of their humanity and rights, you will never want to stop seeing it, hearing it, witnessing it being used so flippantly, not just in creative works like video games, but in everyday life as well. There are other, less intense words that can be used in its place in virtually all contexts. But those who regularly employ it in their casual vocabulary know precisely why it “hits” just a little bit more when they use that word instead. The difference is in the measurable, tangible cruelty that laces the word, the history behind why it’s even considered a slur in the first place, and the knowledge that it is a slur and it is taboo to say it, which makes saying it or using it “exciting.” Just because people are mindlessly parroting it more often these days, feeding into its increased usage as they do, doesn’t change the fact that it’s a harmful, awful thing to say.

The truth is that it has no artistic merit in the context of a game like Limbus Company. It doesn’t do anything with the slur aside from drop it in one line for one backstory that isn’t even critical to the primary narrative, for what I can only surmise is shock value. It is flavor text.

And that flavor is rancid.

The post Sticks & Stones: The One Where They Put a Slur in a Video Game and Now I Have to Write about Why It’s Bad. appeared first on Gamesline.

In the weeks following Dawntrail’s launch, there were hundreds of thousands of voices talking about it on social media, on YouTube, in Discord servers, and on in-game chat channels. People shared their impressions and opinions about its story, pacing, characters; everything you’d expect. I cannot give a comprehensive portrayal of these myriad voices, at least not without conducting innumerable surveys and interviews, but broadly speaking, what intrigued me the most was how there was no consistency on which part or parts of Dawntrail were “good” or “bad.” There were players who liked the first half, but found the second half bizarre and jarring, and there were players who found the first half boring but thoroughly enjoyed the latter half. There were players who strongly felt that it did not have enough voice acting, while others enjoyed the performances and were highly enthusiastic about characters old and new. Dawntrail has certainly been a divisive installment, to say the least, something that I haven’t seen since the Stormblood days.

With the whole of Dawntrail’s story completed, and the narrative now shifting gears as it leads us into the next expansion, I feel ready to talk. I will only be touching upon the story of this expansion, as an all-encompasing review of its new gameplay additions, features, quality-of-life updates, and such would widen the scope of this piece to the point of losing focus. Furthermore, many such additions can and already have been altered from their initial state at launch, whereas the writing of the Main Scenario Questline is very rarely altered outside of typos or errors. I also won’t cover the story in its entirety so as to remain as spoiler-free as possible; this will make sense in a bit when I get to one of my criticisms.

[There are minor spoilers for Heavensward, Stormblood, Shadowbringers, and Dawntrail in this article.]

Dawntrail is an expansion that excels in the details. Sure, it has a grandiose plot with mystery, drama, and epic set pieces the likes of which we’ve seen all across FFXIV before, but that’s par for the course, that’s what players expect. It starts with the uncovering of a mysterious letter from her grandfather, mentioning a “golden city,” and quickly leads into a Rite of Succession for Tuliyollal, a nation spread across two continents. In any of the other expansions, the whole story would revolve around the trials involved in that Rite, but Dawntrail concludes that arc halfway through its runtime, and for the first time in any expansion in FFXIV, the road is left open without any signposting about where the story will go. The northern continent is made accessible, and players go on a whimsical non-sequitur questline about troubles in a wild west frontier town. There’s a saloon, there’s a catboy sheriff, there are tumbleweed crabs, there are dinosaurs; it’s a whole thing and it’s incredible.

The first time I played it, I briefly forgot I was playing Final Fantasy XIV, the MMORPG. That’s how well the story drew me in. It felt like a breath of fresh air, like I was experiencing what this game would be like if it were taken off the rails and allowed to descend into the Beast Road; that is, allowed to break free of its constraints as a railroaded storyline and be a truly open-world experience. It still was a railroaded storyline at that point (hell, it even becomes a story about a literal railroad later on) but one could see, however faintly, an alternate version of this game where exploration and discovery were the driving force behind its story, and not the other way around.

Right at the conclusion of this leg of the journey, there’s an explosive earthquake that’s foreshadowed so lightly, you’d miss it if you weren’t paying enough attention. A giant purple dome suffused with lightning appears on the horizon, and flying futuristic airships start pouring out of it, heading for the capital city of Tuliyollal. This leads into the second half of Dawntrail, which goes into the mysterious dome, its denizens, and the conflict between them and Tuliyollal which seems all but inevitable.

One of my criticisms of Dawntrail is that what’s in the dome was spoiled in some respects through pre-release material. There’s a city in there that is unlike anything in FFXIV, and feels wildly out of place even among the more science-fiction locales of the game. It’s stunning and impressive and extremely cool… and it was shown off well before Dawntrail launched, denying tuned-in players a chance to experience it fresh and in its proper context. It’s the sort of thing that should’ve been kept secret, and FFXIV has often withheld certain locations in upcoming expansions from pre-release material to keep them as surprises. This city should have been one such surprise.

Be that as it may, this dual-nature of Dawntrail serves to reinforce many of its narrative throughlines and messages. Stormblood has been the only other expansion so far to be split in some capacity, but that story was still unified in its overall themes about the impact of war on people and land, why liberation is a cause worth fighting for, and how even the mightiest of foes, be they constructs of faith or machines of empire can be toppled and dismantled when pushed with many hands. The split was geographical, but not textual. 

This is not to say Dawntrail has two different messages, but rather that the first half tackles and searches for what it means to be a good leader for one’s community, and how communities can be strengthened within themselves and made even stronger by building bridges to other communities, and the second half begins by taking one possible answer to those questions and accelerating it to its logical extreme, with all of the horrifying consequences made manifest. After all, your communities, your people, need land and resources to survive and thrive; running out of either would mean that you did not take proper care of your people and thus are a bad leader, so it is only righteous and just for you to find new lands and new resources and claim them for the sake of you & yours. Even if they belong to someone else, the needs of your people must come first.

It is this duality which makes Dawntrail fascinating to me, as players have mentioned disliking one half or the other. The story works best when intertwined as it is, and yet some are quick to bring up complaints I haven’t heard since Stormblood. Stormblood itself was split between the region of Gyr Abania and the eastern continent of Othard, and several voices following its launch in 2017 expressed preference for something more monoptic. They wanted either an expansion solely within Gyr Abania, or one solely within Othard, and didn’t like that the story was separated across these areas. These old complaints always struck me as odd, because they seemed to dislike the presentation and not the actual story, as Heavensward did not receive any such criticisms despite being split across the regions of Coerthas, Dravania, and the Sea of Clouds (i.e. it wasn’t solely about Ishgard, from the Ishgard perspective). Echoes of these sentiments have resurfaced for Dawntrail, and while they do address the narrative more than just the setting this time, they still come across as being arguments on the principle rather than the material. All of the expansions and thus all of FFXIV’s story has been told through the connection to a wide variety of different cultures and peoples across all kinds of places, and this is why one of the prime questions that pop up in conversations about upcoming expansions is “where are we going next?”

This drew me to an understanding of Dawntrail which may explain why there are so many differing perspectives on it. I believe that Dawntrail is an amalgam; a combination of every previous part of FFXIV combined and condensed into one single expansion. It has the slower pace and worldbuilding emphasis of A Realm Reborn and the earlier parts of Shadowbringers; it has the trek into enemy territory and reconciliation between opposing nations present in Heavensward; its dual nature I’ve already likened to Stormblood, but it also has a bit of the “war story” and leadership soul-searching present there. To cap it off, it takes the triumphant, defiant answer given to The Question posed at the end of Endwalker and immediately perverts it, twisting it into a nightmare scenario that has far-reaching implications for the universe of FFXIV. It’s got a bit of everything from everywhere.

This admixture is necessarily diluted as a result. One of the antagonists of Dawntrail has a backstory that is all but absent, which makes his motivations flat and uninspired (especially in a game with impressive villains.) While this narrative lacuna was addressed in a post-launch patch, it would’ve had a more lasting impact if shown before his demise and not after, as it makes his final moments comical to the point of absurdity. There’s a historical faction introduced toward the end of Dawntrail, who are only brought up as a matter of trivia in the base expansion. This faction ends up being very important later on, so their mention serves as foreshadowing, but given the extent to which they impact the narrative, it again comes across as something that should’ve been addressed in the base storyline, but was held back in favor of ending the initial story on a high note. 

There’s also a case to be made that Dawntrail tips its balancing act too heavily toward the latter half, leaving the nation of Tuliyollal and many of its denizens (like the ever-charming Wuk Evu), who are the focus of the first half, out to dry in favor of the thunder dome and the many loose threads trailing out of it. Many of the threads left open regarding its first half are addressed in side stories and activities, but to put things into perspective for the main story: the thunder dome and the history behind it are responsible for five of the currently six major boss fights, with two of them taking place within the dome, two of them in a place previously attached to the dome, and the latest one in the region the dome came from.

It’s not that Dawntrail has a bad story, however, or that its foibles are particularly unique in FFXIV. Heavensward kills off two major characters through self-sacrifice, and while one of them is afforded intimacy in a tender final moment, who is remembered by fans over a decade after their death because of said moment, the other is blasted out of the sky to die a lonesome disintegrating death, and who isn’t afforded the same ceremony or reverence by fans all these years later, and you get three guesses as to which character is a woman. Stormblood arguably has the worst writing in the whole Main Scenario so far, with the baffling decision to bring in a comic relief gillionaire-type character to ask him, in earnest, how to help an ailing nation recently recovering from imperial occupation, to which his reply is “well you can’t just give them money because then they won’t develop the working mindset needed to make it in this economy!” Even the beloved Shadowbringers has some pacing issues leading up to the end of its second act, and while I can appreciate that crafting a mountain-sized golem takes time and many hands, that questionable pacing is why Dawntrail turns its homage to this exact sequence into a quick and cute montage.

One could argue that Dawntrail’s story tries to do too much in too short a time; it has to introduce several new characters, locales, and story hooks; it has to follow up on the impressive finale of Endwalker; and it has to set the stage for the next major story saga. All things considered, I find it was more than merely satisfactory, but impressive in its own right. From my viewpoint that Dawntrail is a combination of every other part of the story blended together, the result is something familiar yet refreshingly new. It’s still Final Fantasy XIV as I’ve known it. It’s still keeping in form and function with both its connection to the rest of the MMO as well as its place within the Final Fantasy lineage. It’s just told in a new light through a new perspective.

Previously, the story of FFXIV has built up the player character as The Warrior of Light; champion of the wronged and the weak, seeker of truth and justice, and ender of apocalypses. Every major story beat has been punctuated by a formidable foe who bars the path or threatens the innocent, who must be laid low by the player character. Often, the Warrior of Light is the only one powerful enough to contend with these adversaries for one reason or another, and while the powers of friendship, sheer determination, and hope do much to bolster efforts in vanquishing villains, much of the narrative is built around small acts of kindness, favors, and chores.

Much and more has been said and bemoaned about “the MMO fetch quest” wherein a player is tasked with collecting some amount of items and delivering them to someone, but even in the earliest days of A Realm Reborn, FFXIV has always used simple quests like these to provide context, build out the world, flesh out characters, and inform the player of details. Skip through the dialogue and you’ll miss that the bucket of water a bar’s owner asked you to fill up and dump on a rowdy patron, was done so because he was being incredibly racist to someone else, behavior which the bar’s owner tells you is unfortunately common in these parts but which he forbids in his establishment.

There are hundreds of examples like that one in the multiple quests throughout the game, and they serve to build up the player character as a true hero. The Warrior of Light isn’t someone who only appears when a battle needs winning, who is only known for violence. They’re renowned for their incredible acts of selflessness, kindness, and communal love, too. It is this focus on building up someone to be a champion of the people, who is driven by action and a burning desire to do right by their neighbors, which sells the concept of the Warrior of Light. This resonant fiber is stitched throughout every chapter of the Main Scenario Quest, and this extends into Dawntrail as well, only this time there’s a twist and it comes in the form of Wuk Lamat, the deuteragonist of Dawntrail. Even calling her “deuteragonist” doesn’t do her character justice, as Wuk Lamat’s journey is a core aspect of Dawntrail, and why she is one of the game’s most interesting characters.

Introduced at the tail of Endwalker, Wuk Lamat approaches the player character with a proposition: be her ally in the upcoming Rite of Succession for Tuliyollal’s head of government. She is the underdog (undercat?) of the contest, and the exploits of the Warrior of Light compel her to seek them out and request their assistance. She is earnest and eager, but out of her depth, and aware of that fact. While she has no selfish ambition to take the Dawn Throne for herself, she is driven to counteract the frontrunner contestant who plans to plunge Tural into a war with nations across Eorzea and beyond. She’s not strictly in it to win, but he must lose at the very least.

The Rite of Succession requires contestants to connect with several communities across the southern continent of Yok Tural, completing their requests as decided by community leaders in whichever manner they see fit. Some leaders use the Rite as a means of educating the participants in their local culture, while others have pressing concerns and see the Rite as an opportunity to have an urgent need met. This Rite is analogous to A Realm Reborn, wherein the player traveled around Eorzea meeting leaders of various communities, towns, and organizations, doing favors and services for them in exchange for information, cooperation, supplies, and support. The context is different but the motions are the same. There’s even an undercurrent of mystery; A Realm Reborn had the looming threat of the Garlean Empire and the shadowy machinations of the Ascians, while Dawntrail’s primary mystery surrounds the “golden city of Tural” and how to locate it, which is actually the final objective of the Rite of Succession.

It is through this Rite, and all the trials and challenges that come with it, that Wuk Lamat is sharpened and shaped into the leader she wants to be for her people. Much like how the Warrior of Light was forged from a simple adventurer into a true hero over the course of A Realm Reborn, Wuk Lamat is built up in the same manner. One of the earliest complaints about Dawntrail was that its story defocused the player character in order to put Wuk Lamat centerstage. While it makes sense that some players would have that takeaway, especially after how intensely Shadowbringers and Endwalker made the player character the central focus of their stories, such a perspective fails to realize the role the player character is given and how it complements the narrative of Dawntrail.

The Warrior of Light’s role in Dawntrail is that of the mentor. The example I’ve been using for over a year now is Auron from Final Fantasy X; an older, more experienced party member who can be relied upon both for their combat prowess as well as their wisdom and worldly insights. Dawntrail’s story is refreshing and exciting because it makes another character the focal point, allowing the player character to run support for them, and then maintains that shift throughout most of its runtime. Riding shotgun for another character’s story is done plenty of times in and out of the main story of FFXIV, but Dawntrail capitalizes on the concept by focusing on Wuk Lamat, Krile, Erenville, Sphene, Gulool Ja, and a few others all throughout. This paradigm shift enhances Dawntrail’s messages on communities and families and coming together to build a better tomorrow, by allowing the characters who can best convey those messages the proper attention and narrative respect.

But I want to focus on Wuk Lamat in particular, because this mentorship role the player character has with her left a lasting impression I still think about to this day. I said Dawntrail was a combination of every other part of FFXIV, and I see that in Wuk Lamat too. From her introduction and all throughout Dawntrail’s story, I see myself in her. I see a fledgling me, nervous about playing with random players but eager to learn how to tank so I could be ready when I got to Heavensward and could unlock Dark Knight. In Wuk Lamat, I see every new player; the ones to whom I’ve given advice, or assistance, or just some words of encouragement. As she grows throughout the story, I see the growth of every player, myself included. You see her confidence grow, her doubts subside, and her resolve crystallize, until she’s a warrior in her own light: A Warrior of Dawn.

There’s a part in Dawntrail where the crew has to board a hot air balloon to fly deep into the jungle, and Wuk Lamat is embarrassed but finally admits to the player character that she is nervous about the flight, and asks if they can hold her hand. Now, I’ve made several alternate characters in FFXIV, and when I come to dialogue options in the story, I’ll pick the ones that seem appropriate for the character I’m playing, or I’ll pick the options I’d never pick for my main character just to see the alternate dialogue. I have never denied Wuk Lamat a steady hand to hold. I cannot speak to the performances in other languages, but Sena Bryer does such a phenomenal job portraying Wuk Lamat as a character brimming with kindheartedness, strength, and sincerity, that my calcified skeleton heart is immediately incinerated with warmth when she asks for help.

That is what makes Dawntrail special to me. It is a story about what makes family and community important to us, and how to strengthen our ties to them. It’s about how to forge new bonds and reinforce old ones which are wavering or even broken. It’s about how to weather change, and to possess both the reason and the resolve to identify and act when the only sensible option forward is to sever the ties that bind us; be they to the past or to people who have wronged us. It builds up these ideas bit by bit in the first half, and then uses the second to test them, twist them, and ultimately make them more resilient. It’s not content to simply state “Wuk Lamat is a good leader because she cares about her people and that’s why she wins the Rite of Succession!” It demonstrates the strength of her character by building her up in the same manner as the Warrior of Light, turning the perceived weakness of her reliance on others into one of her greatest powers—a staple message of FFXIV at this point, but the perspective shift given to the player character makes it shine because she learns it from us—and then playing her off of another character who shares her virtues but who has taken them too far.

I believe Dawntrail to be an expansion story with flaws like any other chapter in Final Fantasy XIV. But for all of the divisiveness it’s seemingly instilled, I also believe it’ll be looked back on fondly. When we’re further on into this saga’s storyline, and the Dawntrail callbacks start hitting like waves of nostalgia; when Wuk Lamat, my third-favorite Dawntrail character, shows up with Mr. Baby President and Shale from IT to help us out of a jam, that’s when people will realize what I’ve known all along. Dawntrail was an excellent tale, and a solid foundation for the future of Final Fantasy XIV.

The post Dawntrail’s Duality and What Makes It Shine appeared first on Gamesline.

With Game of the Year coverage out of the way, the gang sits down to finish it all off for a topical discussion of the year in games. Scott is joined by Spencer, Crystal, Elvie, and Lorelai to go over as many topics as they could in 12 20-40 minute segments.

Part 1: Friend-Type Games – Crystal
Part 2: Dynasty Warriors – Lorelai
Part 3: Silksong – Spencer
Part 4: Blue Prince – Scott
Part 5: The New Age of Handhelds – Crystal
Part 6: The Remastering of the Classics – Lorelai
Part 7: Final Fantasy Tactics asks us What is a remake? – Scott and Lorelai
Part 8: We have to talk about Rematch – Scott
Part 9: Unique Artstyles and Designs of 2025 – Elvie
Part 10: Nightreign – Scott
Part 11: Questions – Everyone
Finale: What do we want out of 2026? – Lorelai

You can support us on our Patreon, and follow us on social media @gamesline.net, Scott, Lorelai, Crystal, Spencer, and Elvie.

Also, don’t forget to rate and review us on Apple Podcasts, and tell a friend about the show!

If you want to send in questions, send them to our email podcast@gamesline.net!

You can also join our Discord channel at thegamezone.zone!

Our theme song is “Crush” by Melt Channel, from the album Magic is Real.

Edited by Lorelai and Produced by Lorelai, Crystal, Elvie, and Scott

The post The Gamesline Podcast Episode 81: Game of the Year Special Edition appeared first on Gamesline.

Honorable Mentions

Monaco 2

While I played a fair amount of this one, and I’m a huge fan of the original game, I played Monaco 2 in an evil way where a good chunk of the game mechanics don’t get a chance to shine (that is, I played a multiplayer game by myself). I enjoyed my time with it, but it’s really the sort of game you want to play with others. Keep it in mind if you’re fiending for more co-op games. I will say I think Pocketwatch Games did a great job translating the blocky art style of the original into 3D.

Death Stranding 2: On the Beach

I’m likely going to enjoy this one enough to put it on this list retroactively, but I’m waiting for the PC release to really sink my teeth into it. We’ll say Death Stranding 2 is my secret Game of the Year for the time being, and move on.

The Real Picks

Dispatch

Playable television show Dispatch impressed with high-quality animation, sublime voice acting, and a witty, charming script. While its gameplay is just north of serviceable, that works to its credit as it walks the line between being slowed down by complex management systems without forgoing the crucial aspect of its core conceit. You want to be a good dispatcher, as that ties in directly with the script and story the game wants to tell, but the skill floor is very low so you aren’t heavily punished for a few bad rolls. It doesn’t take more than a few runs to figure out the systems on offer, and while they are simplistic, there is a natural progression as you go through each chapter.

As for the story itself, it works really well in an episodic style, but there’s clear room for improvement. I believe Dispatch splits the difference between wanting to be an office romance drama and an office sitcom drama. The romance scenes are front and center in nearly every chapter, yet there are only two potential partners in a game with enough material for at least three or four more. At the same time, the romance is so front-and-center that trying to play the game while avoiding it or denying it feels like you’re half-fighting the game beat-by-beat, and while you can get a no-romance ending, it is not satisfying getting there.

If there’s to be a season 2 of this show, it can’t be more of the same. What’s here is good, but it could be so much better. The story’s focused scope precludes drastically divergent paths through the narrative, and I think that’s a smart decision, but there could be perspective shifts to other characters that would underline the impact of the player’s dialogue choices. The dispatching gameplay is satisfying, and the curveballs it throws in the final sequence tease a whole slew of potential avenues AdHoc Studio could take with expanding its systems. I liked Dispatch enough to want a sequel for it, and I only hope they can build on the solid foundation it provides.

Blue Prince

As I have not completed Blue Prince (regardless of how you define that), there is little I can say on it. I have played enough to know that it’s incredible, to the point that I’ve put off playing more of it. You only get one first playthrough of a game, and even with my measly five and a half hours of playtime, I know there’s an ocean of depth to be found in this one. This would probably be my top pick of the year if not for the fact that I have hardly played much of it. 

But gods, the atmosphere is phenomenal. Sitting here writing these scant few sentences and thinking about how much I have left to uncover in Blue Prince is making me antsy to dive back in. I still never made it to that final room. I do wonder what’s in there from time to time. Maybe I’ll boot it up tonight and find out. If there’s a skeleton in this game somewhere, I’m gonna flip. I hope there is. I hope a skeleton comes running down the corridors of my labyrinthine abode and pelts me with a janitor’s ring full of keys. I hope I find a mirror room and see that the skeleton is me.

Hollow Knight: Silksong

On the one hand, I think every game should be made in the same fashion as Silksong; built up over the course of several years with a crew free to hone it to a razorsharp point. On the other hand, I feel like one of few people who can weather such long periods of radio silence, with no Silksong news or announcements. I was never a huge Hollow Knight guy; it’s a game I like, love even, and replaying it recently in preparation for Silksong, I still think it’s a highly polished, exceptional game with very few flaws. But I’ve been content with that game, and never lamented the absence of Silksong’s release year after year. Not so for many people, unfortunately.

Thus, the question surrounding Silksong is, “Was it worth the wait?”

The answer: “There is no question.”

Silksong is undeniable in its execution. It builds on the foundation of Hollow Knight, and comes with so many refinements and additions to its predecessor that it boggles the mind. There was never a single moment in my time with Silksong where I thought “they had how many years and this is it?” It was always “holy shit, there’s more?” The crest system is a marked improvement from the charm system, offering more robust combat and navigation options. The tools acting as Castlevania style subweapons makes them fit in perfectly with Hornet’s character and game. Even Pharloom itself feels more alive and lived-in than Hallownest, and while that haunted ghost-city vibe of the first game still finds its way in Silksong, there’s a tangible difference in the presentation. It’s way more Catholic this time around, is what I’m saying.

Hollow Knight: Silksong is like Hollow Knight +1, except that every additional year Team Cherry spent making it, it got another +1. Fantastic game.

The post Spencer’s Choice Games of 2025 appeared first on Gamesline.

I tend to be a bit skeptical when I hear that any game is adding romance, especially when it wasn’t the primary focus or a planned feature of the game. We’ve all seen the half-baked, bad-taste dating sim mini-games companies have put out on April Fools in the past, which all have the same tired punchline of “aren’t dating sims weird?!” When I heard this announcement about a romance system in Warframe, I thought to myself that it probably wouldn’t be bad in that same way, but I still had doubts about its implementation and efficacy. It seemed like a case where they spent a lot of time bringing these characters to life and wanted to add a little something to make them more prominent; you know, justify all that effort? So how did that system turn out?

Let’s step back and look at the broader picture first, starting with what even is Warframe: 1999? It’s the title of Warframe’s Update 38 which launched in December 2024, and is the colloquial term for all of the gameplay additions made available to players by said update. It sees players travel back in time to the Earth year of 1999, in a main quest called “The Hex,” where they team up with a faction of the same name in order to track down one Dr. Albrecht Entrati in the loosely Eastern European-inspired city-state of Höllvania; a city that is currently under martial law by the private military contractor Scaldra, who were dispatched to exterminate the encroaching Technocyte Virus infestation (or “Techrot”) which plagues the city both above and below ground. It’s one of the latest major story beats in the ongoing narrative of Warframe, and while it is just one chapter, it ties together various lore threads from years ago into an extension of Warframe’s narrative tapestry. As an example, in Update 29, The Heart of Deimos, released back in August 2020, Albrecht Entrati was first introduced as an unseen character, gestured at here and there by members of the then-new Entrati Family. Recordings of his life were unlocked as players gained reputation with the Family, and in one recording, Albrecht briefly mentions the “radiation wars” as a past event. Warframe: 1999 features Albrecht Entrati as a major character (though he was formally introduced into the game prior to this update) and it provides some context about why those radiation wars occurred (the aforementioned Techrot).

Speaking of the Techrot itself, it too is intrinsically linked to the game’s sci-fi setting, serving as an ancestor strain of the Infested, one of the older enemy factions in Warframe. Imagine if the Y2K Problem was less about simple computer errors and more about all technology running amok from being coalesced into a fleshy amalgam of old TV screens, boomboxes, speakers, computer terminals, and many other devices. So there’s more connective tissue between the main game and this retro romp than meets the eye. That sets the stage so now we can address the stars of the show.

The Hex are a group of six characters who act as the main cast of Warframe: 1999 and who are designated as “Protoframes.” The in-game playable Warframes are futuristic technology, made possible due to the Infested and by extension the Techrot, and when Dr. Entrati went back in time, he brought his technical knowledge and expertise with him. While he’s not the creator of the Warframes, he knew enough about them to experiment on and partially convert a handful of individuals into frames using the Techrot as raw materials, keeping their individuality intact while affording them powers and resilience beyond their normal human bodies. This was done with their consent, as the Hex found themselves against overwhelming odds combating both the Scaldra and the Techrot in the “Plague Year” of 1999, but the transformation was excruciating and irreversible. They are the subjects of the romance system, effectively giving a human face to the Warframes they embody.

Led by Arthur Nightingale, who takes up the mantle of Warframe’s poster boy Excalibur, the Hex are a vigilante group consisting of Aoi Morohoshi, Quincy Isaacs, and Leticia “Lettie” Garcia, four rogue members of the ICR (International Crisis Response) who have gone against direct orders to terminate infected Höllvanian civilians, as well as Arthur’s journalist sister Eleanor Nightingale and the tech intern Amir Beckett. Aoi and Amir embody the Warframes Mag and Volt respectively, and together with Arthur serve as human sides of the three starter Warframes players pick at the beginning of the game. Lettie, being a field medic, takes up the original healer frame Trinity, while Eleanor’s advanced Techrot infection makes her subsumption of the psychic frame Nyx quite potent. Quincy is the only protoframe of the Hex who portrays a newer frame, that of the sharpshooter spec-ops Cyte-09 (sight-o-nine), a Warframe that was released alongside the update. All together, they act as a cadre of ‘90s action heroes ripped straight out of a grungy, grime-slicken comic book or cartoon show. You spend five minutes around this gang and you can easily imagine them existing in the same pop-cultural spheres as Gargoyles, Æon Flux, and Spawn.

But hold up. You’re probably thinking how it’s even possible to romance these characters when Warframe players themselves play as, well, Warframes; biomechanical… not-robots, which typically lack mouths and more importantly, dialogue or personalities unto themselves (for the most part anyway.) Four years ago, when Update 31’s The New War quest was added to the game, Digital Extremes introduced into Warframe one of my favorite video game design techniques of all time: the ability to play as other characters in games where previously you only played as a single character. There are plenty of games built around the premise of playing as several characters, from fighting games to MOBAs to racing games and so on, but the concept is flat-out more impactful in games where you don’t have a selectable roster. The sequence in Majora’s Mask where you temporarily control Kafei, the first time anything like that had been done in a Legend of Zelda game, a series dogmatically committed to only ever letting you play as Link, serves as a classic example. It was just as buckwild when Final Fantasy XIV, an MMORPG, flipped the script and had players controlling NPCs for select quests for the first time toward the tail end of its Stormblood expansion. This is how Warframe is able to add a romance system to the game; one of the characters introduced in The New War Update was the Drifter, a character with their own history and personality, who has become a prominent figure in the Warframe storyline. It is the Drifter who is sent back to 1999, and it is through them that the story of the Hex and Höllvania is experienced by the player.

Enough beating around the bush though, let’s talk about the romance system. After completing The Hex quest,  building up one’s relationships with the six characters becomes available. This is entirely done through the “Kinemantik Instant Messenger” or KIM, a play on America Online’s “AOL Instant Messenger” or AIM, which is accessed through Pom-2 computer terminals in the player’s Base of Operations. Every real-world day, players have the ability to chat with each member of the Hex, with certain dialogue choices granting “Chemistry,” which raises their relationship with that character. If the character responds with text that shimmers gold, that signifies a boost in Chemistry.

Players can also mail-order each character various gifts from an online catalogue, including powerful items like a binder, coffee cups, gas cans both large and small, an office phone, and a toaster. Gifting items costs in-game currency (one of my favorite stylistic flourishes in the update is whenever you’re in the 1999 areas, the in-game futuristic Credits you’ve accrued are converted 1:1 to Höllars) and it’s up to the player to figure out which items will be favored by each character.

Chemistry can also be gained by completing Hex Bounties which involve normal Warframe missions, which randomly have one of the six members assigned to each of the six bounties who accompany the player on the mission as NPC support, though players can only gain this boost in Chemistry every ~16 hours, effectively making it a daily boost. When reaching a sufficient level of Chemistry with a given character, the player will have the option to ask about dating them, though whether they accept will depend on choices made during the KIM chats, and each level of Chemistry is locked behind ranking up with the Hex faction as a whole. If the character accepts the offer, it unlocks new KIM conversations with them, and they appear in the Backroom, the player’s Base of Operations in Höllvania, where they’ll have additional dialogue. Additionally, there’s a romantic cutscene that plays at the end of 1999 which changes based on which character the player romanced, and if they chose not to pursue any character, they still get a special cutscene so anyone who opts out of dating altogether still gets a sweet moment.

The actual romance system itself isn’t particularly novel or interesting, at least not when laid out as I’ve done thus far. But like with all good stories, it’s the writing that makes the difference. See, each KIM conversation with a character ranges from funny little asides or questions about life (either their’s or the Drifter’s), but in a lot of cases they delve into particularly serious topics such as Lettie’s history as a medic. These little KIM conversations are written in such a way that perfectly captures the interiority of each character and makes them feel more real than they are. Maybe it’s just because I’ve spent a long time connecting with people over the Internet, but these conversations read like they were written by people who have been there; in chat rooms and IRCs, used services like AIM and Skype. Each character has their own username and little profile picture and way of typing that brings a level of authenticity to the whole deal.

The system isn’t without its flaws. The major pitfall of the chat system is simply that these individual conversations have some degree of randomness to them. Amir is the quintessential nerd of the group, and at one point wants to put together a game of Fables & Frontiers. The player is tasked with trying to rope as many members of the Hex into the game as possible, with some only joining if you manage to convince others. I had successfully convinced Aoi, Lettie, and Arthur to join, and then I told Amir that’s probably all I could convince. After the game started (an entirely off-screen affair, tragically), days later I got a message from Quincy asking about the Fables & Frontiers game, and while I successfully convinced him to join, it was one point where the artifice was laid bare. While most of the chats are at least funny or engaging, there are at least a handful that end rather abruptly, which also underlines their perfunctory nature.

As far as the romance writing goes, I’m personally glad everyone is very grown-up about things. There aren’t any sex scenes or fades to black, but characters will outright say “let’s have sex tonight” and that’s a breath of fresh air compared to other games which settle for implications or omissions. It’s down-to-earth and feels more natural as a result, and it benefits from not being the sole focus either as the chosen lover will not simply devolve into weak-knees and doe-eyes upon dating them. That said, there’s one point that’s a little disappointing to me. It’s understandable why Digital Extremes opted for a monogamous approach to the dating aspect, purely from a design standpoint: That special cutscene would have to have way more combinations if players could date even just two Hex members at the same time. However, the problem I ran into was wanting to date four of the six Hex members and only being able to pick one. It’s a minor problem overall, and considering that Digital Extremes continues to be pretty good about inclusivity, missing out on a big Hex polycule is something I’m just going to chalk up to “it would be more powerful than all of the Incarnon weapons combined.”

The part that really brings everything together is how necessary this relationship system is to the story of Warframe: 1999. I thought before playing it that this whole “romancing the Protoframes” thing was just an additional feature they created on a whim or for fun, but that’s not the case at all. Building your relationships with these characters and investing time into them is critical to the story. I’ve kept this piece largely spoiler-free, so I won’t go into why the silly little KIM conversations have cosmic consequences for the Warframe universe, but just know that “The Hex” quest’s finale is made stronger by their inclusion, and the story would be weaker without them. That’s what I loved the most about this simple relationship system in Warframe: 1999: It’s earnest. It commits to both the veneer and the viscera underneath, and it does so without reservation.

Warframe‘s newest update, The Old Peace, launches tomorrow, December 10th, and with it comes the arrival of three new potential romance partners: a crop top priest, a French ghost nun, and Blue Emet-Selch. Time will tell if their characterizations maintain the level of quality that 1999 demonstrated, but I’d wager they’ll be spectacular additions to Warframe‘s bizarre cast of characters. It’s Blue Emet-Selch! There’s simply no way René Zagger doesn’t eat up every scene voicing him.

The post Love and Warframe in 1999 appeared first on Gamesline.

Playing as Arabella Greene, an elderly English botanist, your overall task is to finish up researching a handful of plants for her debut herbarium, “Forgotten Flora,” at the behest of her publisher-to-be. Starting in the greenhouse, you solve a basic puzzle that introduces the game’s controls and overall puzzle presentation, before you’re allowed to wander the premises and start the game in earnest. Botany Manor is split into distinct chapters, with Arabella needing to complete research on two or more plants per chapter, upon which more of the manor is unlocked to the player, leading into the next chapter. Puzzle solving is the core strength of the game; every puzzle is solved by successfully triggering a given plant’s ideal growth conditions, but finding out what those are and how to achieve them makes up the bulk of each chapter. This brisk explanation truncates what is consistently a healthy admixture of exploration, investigation, and experimentation. Leveraging its own art style and whimsical premise, Botany Manor features fantastical plants which react to all kinds of external stimuli, ranging from weather to sound to animal activity (often through roundabout means as befitting a puzzle game), and it’s up to the player to study the clues strewn about the rooms and use them in conjunction with the manor’s various contraptions to bring each sapling to bloom and complete her research.

One of my favorite aspects of puzzle-solving in Botany Manor are the various documents which serve the double duty of fleshing out the setting and characters while also keying players in on which devices and techniques should be employed for which plants. Being as vague as possible for this example, there’s a folklore book with a peculiar story involving a plant, and the story ends up being critical to understanding how to bloom it. The book provides necessary context to understanding certain aspects of the environment, which link over to another element of the puzzle. Every document is like that book; perfectly couched in its respective context, giving a weighty realness to them that breathes life into the game. Newspaper articles follow the same cadence you’d expect of reporters investigating an odd river phenomenon. Letters from official sources have a cold formality, while ones from Arabella’s sister are warm and playful. It’s through these texts that the game’s setting is fully realized—another reason I adore it so much. There is an efficiency in the writing that is unbelievably potent for a game of this scope and scale. And they’re necessary too! These aren’t just lore snippets or optional collectables: Most of them are pieces of the puzzles themselves, offering vital information about each plant. Acquiring this information is one step of the puzzle-solving process, and the game allows the player to assign documents like books, newspaper articles, and letters to each plant’s entry in Arabella’s herbarium.

This is a delightfully ingenious way to corroborate disparate information and sets players up for success. Getting stuck on any puzzle, even when you have all the information, is really frustrating, and assigning these clues to each specific plant helps organize the information and refocuses attention on the puzzle as a whole, as the player will know which clues correspond to which plant. It’s not necessary to assign information in this fashion, so players with no need or interest can skip this step without any penalties, but when working on four or five plants at a time, it becomes more useful and adds a degree of satisfaction on its own, as a plant’s page isn’t fully complete without its clue assignments. This clue assignment feature’s effectiveness cannot be understated, as it turns what might otherwise be a bother or struggle point for some players into part of the puzzle-solving process, reinforcing the core strength of the game and smoothing out the experience overall.

The only downside to this system is that the actual text in the clues themselves are not collected. If you find a temperature chart, and you know the chart corresponds to one plant, but you forgot which entry on the chart relates to the plant in question, you’ll have to manually walk back to the chart to review it, rather than selecting the entry in your clue catalog. This is a minor downside, as a little inconvenience is often necessary to keep players engaged in a game with no stakes. Botany Manor affords the player many concessions as a more relaxed puzzle-solving experience, and being forced to backtrack through the gorgeously decorated and realized rooms and lawns of the manor is hardly a punishment at all (especially since Ms. Greene is a spry old woman who can sprint with the best of FPS characters, though I am a bit crestfallen that she cannot bunny hop.) This is the only point of the game’s design where I could see someone reasonably arguing “I wish this element worked differently,” which speaks to the game’s sheer quality.

After reading a fair number of decades-old letters, newspaper articles, correspondences, and books, the story of the titular Botany Manor and Ms. Greene herself winds its way out into the light. The manor is old and contains its share of surprising secrets, but I will set them aside to focus on Arabella Greene’s narrative, as her history is a spectacular example of how such few words can invoke such a strong connection and emotional bond with fictional characters, even silent protagonists like Ms. Greene. I mentioned before that Arabella is an elderly Englishwoman; what I have not mentioned is this game takes place in 1890. Our understanding of Arabella’s history is made manifest through private letters and official documentations; she grows up and becomes fascinated with the botanical sciences, seeking to further the collective understanding of the myriad plants in her neck of the woods.

As you might expect, she is disenfranchised constantly by men who believe academia and fields of science are exclusive realms which are forbidden to women. A fellow woman in her family desperately seeks to set Arabella up with one of her neighbors, citing that it’s for “Arabella’s own good” as she’s getting on in years and won’t be able to bear children if she keeps up with her silly little flower obsession. There’s one absolutely infuriating story about Arabella going on a brief nature excursion with a notable botanist and his wife, and another young man roughly her age. Arabella makes an actual botanical discovery about a peculiarly-shaped mushroom and brings it to the botanist’s attention, and he dismisses it as her confusing the mushroom for a different species; you find a published book about this newly discovered mushroom by the botanist later, and the unremarkable young man is accredited on the cover, with no mention of Arabella.

These are heart-wrenching, incensing revelations that burn in your mind as you solve silly little flower puzzles in your silly idyllic manor. The whole veneer of the game gets covered in a dusty sheen of would-be triumphs and denied opportunities. They’re the kinds of anecdotes that stick with you because of how real they are, juxtaposing with the warm atmosphere and stylized art direction of the game. There’s no blood or gore in Botany Manor, but its portrayal of the institutional and systemic desecration of this poor old woman’s lifelong pursuit of knowledge and harmony with her environment over the course of decades is just as gruesome.

Botany Manor surprised me, to say the least. While its plant-based puzzles, detailed corridors, and well-kept gardens were what drew me in, I did not expect to be drawn into the life of Ms. Arabella Greene so vividly. Her story is told not through bombastic cutscenes or epic expositions of her storied lineage. It is quiet, and quaint, and gradual, blooming in the light of a lazy midday sun, but it is no less stunning for it.

The post Botany Manor Isn’t Afraid to Have Thorns – Botany Manor (PC) Review appeared first on Gamesline.

10: Botany Manor

Botany Manor is without a doubt the easiest game I can recommend on this list. It’s short, taking roughly 2 to 4 hours or so, it’s incredibly sweet, and it’s a delight to play through and through. It’s the sort of picturesque game I would use to bridge the gap between people who have almost no experience with games or people who think every video game is a shooter for teenage boys. It’s a puzzle game where you have to figure out how to grow fantastical plants and you do so through exploration; sometimes the clue is in a note you find, but oftentimes it’s found by being a keen observer and spying something in the environment. The level design is straightforward and not too complex, but it’s still enough to really sink your teeth into for a few hours as you figure out its myriad puzzles. Everything matches up seamlessly as well; from the stylistic art direction, to the writing style that sincerely captures the tone and setting, to the beautiful compositions that inspire curiosity and warmth and bitterness. Yes, that’s the thing that really surprised me about Botany Manor. Despite its “cozy” atmosphere, the game has a clear message to convey, which I won’t spoil here, and the path of protagonist Arabella Greene is one carved through the underbrush by millions like her. It’s a well-worn path, and in playing Botany Manor, one feels compelled to help Arabella pave a new journey through her world of flora.

9: The Operator

The Operator is one of those works that demonstrates so clearly why some stories simply have to be told through the medium of games. You play as a new employee for the fictional Federal Department of Intelligence, and your role is to assist agents in the field by using the FDI’s various electronic systems and internal databases to solve various cases. It’s essentially a visual novel with a fancy GUI that’s used for puzzle solving, with a few twists thrown in here and there. Make no mistake though, The Operator really pulls its weight with full voice acting, exceptional casting and direction, and a tightly-paced script. There is not a single actor who isn’t giving it their all in their performances and while I’m not the best judge of acting skill, the dialogue adds an immense amount of gravity to what would otherwise be a purely textual experience. It’s not that you couldn’t make a game like this without voice acting, but the performances sell the whole concept, which proves highly effective for The Operator’s story. It’s an absolutely bone-chilling experience I highly recommend.

8: Fallen Aces (Chapter One)

Look, if your setting is gonna be called “Switchblade City” sign me the fuck up. Fallen Aces is a game I’ve had tabs on for a long time, and last year saw the release of its first chapter. Six levels of old-school shooter action painted with the veneer of mid-20th century comic book flair, Fallen Aces Chapter 1 was a highlight of 2024. It’s one part DOOM, one part Thief, and two parts hard-knuckle wise-guy attitude. The presentation is off the charts with this one, folks, and it’s dressed to the nines from levels to the soundtrack to the cutscenes. Perfectly suited for immersive, slow-and-steady skulkin’ about, and cruisin’ bruisin’ speedster playstyles alike, Fallen Aces hits all the high marks you’d hope for in a game with such an ambitious pitch. I’m not sure anyone in the last 30 years asked “what if DOOM had mobsters with tommy guns and lead pipes” but the answer is “it would be fucking incredible.” The only downside is that we just have Chapter 1 to sink our jaws into, but that just makes the anticipation for the next chapters all the sweeter. Pick this one up if you’re a real goon-clobberer.

7: Helldivers 2

There was a significant point in time last year where Helldivers 2 was the talk of the town. Everyone was playing it or talking about it or streaming it. It rekindled cyclical debates about works like Starship Troopers and it produced some of the most obnoxious forum posting I’ve seen in years. But that’s to be expected with a game as good as Helldivers 2. Something I particularly enjoyed about it was the plethora of immersive sim elements they put into the game to enhance both the gameplay and the vibe of being a Super Earth Helldiver. It’s not the kind of game that usually comes to mind when one says “immersive sim” but little details like how reloading prematurely wastes unspent rounds in a magazine, or how supplies are limited, or the hilarious ways in which the physics engine can turn an expertly tossed stratagem orb into Impending Imminent Death for you and your squadmates truly does add necessary flavor and fun to the chaos of intergalactic warfare. While the kayfabe of Helldivers 2 is something I believe is best saved for in-game experiences (some people are a little too happy about roleplaying as shock troopers of a fascist super empire in, say, the Youtube comments section), when it comes to getting people together to do dumb shit for false glory, Helldivers 2 is a staple choice.

6: Shadows of Doubt

I wrote about Shadows of Doubt a while ago and talked about how much I was looking forward to the full release, and it’s incredible how much the game has improved in what feels like such a short time. It’s a true pearl of a game, and you really can’t find anything like it anywhere else. Most of the improvements implemented since my previous writing are found in bug fixes, usability enhancements, significant changes to level generation, smaller tasks you can complete in the game, and new investigation approaches such as having to find a rogue sniper’s vantage point. Shadows of Doubt is still the fantastic sandbox detective game with charming voxel models and sprawling cityscapes it was in 2023. It’s still a great game for spending an hour combing through an apartment complex trying to find your primary suspect, only to hear that they’ve murdered someone in the diner down the street. It’s still the only game where I can eat a yakisoba pan while sprinting down a street in the rain, running away from an angry citizen who is mad that I took a collector’s baseball from their apartment which they had stolen from their so-called friend days prior. I highly recommend it.

5: Balatro

Yeah, yeah, Balatro in a list of top games from 2024, big surprise I know. There’s barely anything I could say about Balatro that thousands of others haven’t already said about arguably the best game of 2024, but the fact of the matter is it simply is that good. The only critique I have for Balatro is that going past Ante 12 is strictly a build check to see if you got a good set of “the right jokers” which usually boil down to the same staple combos. There’s a sticker for beating Gold Stake with every joker but if there was a sticker for beating Ante 16 with every joker, completionists would themselves become the Joker. It’s not that the game would be better if such a feat were possible, but it’s just a bit sad that some jokers don’t get to shine in the spotlight as much as DNA or Blueprint, and it would be fun to see more decks or game modes that cater to the little fellas. You don’t have to be a card shark to understand why Balatro is one of the best games of last year; you need only gaze into the eyes of Jimbo and know why everyone wants to be his friend.

4: Final Fantasy XIV: Dawntrail

Coming down from the emotional highs and climactic saga-ending finale of Endwalker, I was curious how Dawntrail would fare narratively as the “Part 1” in a new era for FFXIV. A small but extremely charming aspect of the story was the shifting of the player character from the typical status of Main Character to essentially a mentor role. A lot of people did not like this shift in focus, but when I realized they had made my guy an “Auron” or “Uncle Iroh” to Dawntrail‘s heroine Wuk Lamat, I was ecstatic. It’s a really good shift in roles after Endwalker ramped up the Main Character vibe of the player character; rather than trying to one-up that climax, better to shift the paradigm completely. What really surprised me, however, was Dawntrail taking the conclusion of Endwalker and flip it on its head and send it screaming right back at us. The final boss of Endwalker concludes that life and existence itself is full of pain and suffering, and so seeks to end everyone and everything, because surely whatever comes after will be better than clawing and bleeding and scraping for survival. The retort that’s presented is that life is still worth living, hope is still worth having, and being that hope for others in times of dire need creates unbreakable bonds that can lead us to brighter futures, even if death is our inevitable end. Dawntrail’s villain, in that most timeless of narrative twists, takes that reply to its logical extreme, arguing that life is indeed worth living, and that we should actually live forever, amplifying the horror of that maladaptive conclusion in ways I don’t even have time to cover. Terrifying conceit for a Final Fantasy villain aside, Dawntrail cements itself as a solid foundation upon which this next saga for FFXIV can be built.

3: Void Stranger

Void Stranger. I’ve had to pause and sit here while thinking of what to say about Void Stranger. There is so much power and emotional resonance to be found in this sokoban game. On the surface it looks like a charming little homage to GameBoy titles like Link’s Awakening, but this is a trick. Do not be fooled by the incredible sprites and sublime soundtrack. Void Stranger is the game to play when you want your heart to hit the fucking floor and shatter into a million pieces which then vaporize into void ash. It’s soul-rendingly good and really deserves to be experienced yourself. The story is like a simple recipe; few ingredients and a straightforward approach, but it’s the quality of its components and the deftness of technique that really bring the whole dish together. Oh, fair warning; while the story is a real gut-puncher, don’t expect the puzzles to be easy by contrast; some of the solutions are downright diabolical. I had to learn how nonograms work in order to finish this game, and even if you’re someone who is already in the know about nonograms, that won’t save you. Few are the virtues that will save you in the depths of Void Stranger, but I promise you it will be worth it by the end.

2: Dread Delusion

Dread Delusion is brimming with vibrant weirdness and ethereal atmosphere. From its surreal soundscape to its bizarre locales, it’s a game that instills within oneself that eye-widening desire to explore and uncover the myriad secrets of its absurd landscape. It’s a perfect example for how to design an open world that’s strictly as big as it needs to be. Dungeons are relatively short compared to the likes of The Elder Scrolls series, but this is to the benefit of Dread Delusion’s overall pacing. The level and world design is big enough for the explorers and strollers to get their fill, but small enough that the action-focused, goal-oriented players won’t agonize over needlessly vast swathes of land. While its combat and quest systems are standard fare all things considered, they’re time-tested approaches that don’t bog down the experience with niche complexities, and any game that can get players to stop hoarding consumable items gets a gold star in my book. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Dread Delusion; it does its own thing in the space of open world RPGs, commits to its goals and vision right down to the flavor text, and isn’t afraid to give players levels of freedom and progression seldom seen in recent years.

1: Pacific Drive

Pacific Drive is absolutely phenomenal. It is my favorite game of 2024 bar none. Set in a forsaken, reality-fractured swathe of the Pacific Northwest, Pacific Drive masterfully blends vehicular gameplay with scavenging, resource management, and car maintenance, all while trying to avoid getting your car and your body mangled and warped by dozens of hazardous anomalies. These anomalies range from the cute and cantankerous road bunnies to the unsettling Tourists, to giant clouds of acid; each one an engaging obstacle on your journey through the Olympic Exclusion Zone. Pacific Drive’s art direction excels at creating immaculate landscapes while also providing visual clarity for its vehicle-based gameplay. I’m personally a huge fan of the pixelated UI that both pulls you back to the late 90s of the game’s setting and provides clear and concise information at a glance, allowing you to identify multiple types of items simply by their color. The procedural generation of the levels means no trek into the Zone is quite the same, and once you get the hang of how to source various supplies and resources for upgrades, each trip feels like measurable progress as a single trek can have multiple different personal objectives. The tumultuous nature of the Zone, its strange weather effects, its mysterious history, and its menagerie of anomalies make for a fascinating world to explore, and everything being experienced behind the wheel of a haunted station wagon only adds to the game’s unique appeal. Pacific Drive is a stellar game, from its unimpeachable art style to its wonderfully fitting soundtrack, and my singular pick for Best Game of 2024.

The post Spencer’s Top Ten Games of 2024 appeared first on Gamesline.

What I kept coming back to time and time again last year was this notion that approaching games on their own terms makes enjoying them for what they are easier, as well as helping to zero in on why they work in some areas and why they don’t in others. This isn’t some grand revelation or anything; it’s more of a litany against falling into the spiral of expecting games to conform to our own perceptions about how they ought to be, or how they should have played out. It’s all too easy to conflate critique and wishful thinking; to confuse projections we impose on games with our analysis of its components. I think a lot of people get hung up on this ethereal concept of a “platonic ideal” version of a game, and they build their entire perspective around how a game fails to achieve that zenith. It’s an exhausting way to play and talk about games, and while I understand that it’s fun to think up ways a game could be enhanced or improved, it’s important to acknowledge the version of the game that actually exists, and see it for what it is, not what we might want it to be.

 Without further ado, here are my top games of 2023.

Honorable Mention: Starfield

I do not know what people expected with this one. I’ve managed to get hundreds of hours of gameplay out of Bethesda’s older games (Morrowind was on my Game of the Year list for last year!) but anybody shocked that this game was not a meteoric game changer for the industry probably needs to be reminded that Fallout 4 was not actually that good of a game, even if you found it fun like me, or like Bethesda games in general. Perhaps it’s because I had no expectations, no hype, and barely saw any preview material for Starfield that I was able to enjoy over 300 hours with it. I went in expecting nothing, and got Something. What that Something was wasn’t what many people wanted, but just like with Bethesda’s previous games post-Morrowind, Starfield is serviceable at what it does. Is it the best? Of course not: Destiny 2 and Titanfall 2 are better sci-fi FPS games. Baldur’s Gate 3 and Fallout: New Vegas are better RPGs. Elite Dangerous is simultaneously a better space exploration game, and a better spaceship-flying simulator. Its individual components are C-grade at best, and together they average out to a passable, serviceable game in my eyes. 

Like many games of its kind, there are kernels of greatness that can be found here and there, but Starfield is ultimately held back by the same design and scriptwriting framework we’ve seen from Bethesda time and time again (maybe someday they’ll figure out how to make unarmed builds fun and rewarding.) I cannot deny the reputation it has garnered in the wake of its release, but I will say I still enjoyed my time with Starfield. It’s better than Fallout 4 by a country mile, and at the very least, that’s something.

8. Lethal Company

I am not a horror game person. I hate jumpscares, and being chased by foul creatures without some recourse for their assaults fills my skeleton heart with dread. But I can play Lethal Company, a game that’s sometimes about the first thing, and definitely about the second thing, without any issue. Something about the whimsical art style, the hyper-corporate hellcapitalism of its future dystopian setting, and the silly little creatures what snap your neck and crumple your character into boneless ragdolls on contact is very funny and refreshing. I still get scared while playing it, and there can be very tense and dreadful moments throughout a run, but the beauty of proximity voice chat, the bonds between good friends, and the thrill of making it back to the ship alive with a puzzle cube, scrap metal, and a clown horn cuts through the intensity of the horrors and makes the experience all the more delightful. Any game that can not only force me out of my comfort zone, but also show me that I can thrive outside of it is a good game in my book. It’s still in early access, but it’s already a runaway success, and Lethal Company deserves every bit of praise it gets.

7. Shadows of Doubt

While Shadows of Doubt was slated to be fully released toward the end of 2023 after a period of early access, it was ultimately pushed back to 2024. I’m still including it here because it’s an exceptionally good game with a very focused conceit, and I also put Lethal Company in so it’s only fair. Solving procedural murder mysteries in the future-past world of 1979 proved to be so engaging that I spent an entire week doing almost nothing else but playing this game. The voxel aesthetic has never been something I’ve been very keen on, but Shadows of Doubt is the game that sold me on their potential. I initially found myself suspecting this art direction would hold the game back, but every still taken of this game evokes its sheer tone and atmosphere that makes it shine. It’s like playing a video game version of Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks. There are tons of little details in the game’s world that made learning more about its setting extremely fascinating. I’m a particular fan of how each of the procedurally generated cities are built on what appear to be large offshore platforms due to the global warming crisis: You are a film noir detective solving murders on one platform of Big Boss’ Brother’s Mother Base, and sometimes you are paid by strangers to retrieve their bric-à-brac from their covetous, thieving friends. That is an absurd sentence to type, and yet it’s a pretty accurate description of what Shadows of Doubt is like, in part. I cannot wait for the full game to release with all the refinements and updates that will entail, but for now, I am content being the voxelated 1979’s version of Columbo.

6. Final Fantasy XVI

The core element of Final Fantasy XVI is its exceptional combat system. They built the whole game around it and when you do that for a game, in any genre, it’s imperative that the combat system is robust, enjoyable, and possesses enough depth to stave off stagnation. FFXVI is a phenomenal entry into the character action genre, and it also serves as one of its most approachable titles. As to be expected from a mainline Final Fantasy title, playing other games in the series is not required, and while the story of FFXVI has some elements that could be improved (do not put the Heavensward writer in lead writing positions for any games involving women with connections to Shiva, thanks in advance,) the combat shines through as its crowning achievement. Every fight feels flashy and every attack is powerful and potent, from the smaller mob fights to the big climactic Eikon Clashes. If any game proves that set pieces and cinematic fights are good, FFXVI is that game, and it does such a wonderful job of merging cinematic sequences, combat sections, musical choreography, and sheer unadulterated exuberance for what it’s dishing out. Its lows are low, but its highs are exospheric. There is also something to be said for the game being a shorter affair than its monolithic siblings. The game is paced tight enough to feel brisk, while slow enough to not feel like you’re blitzing through everything. 

Final Fantasy XVI proves three things beyond a shadow of a doubt: Final Fantasy games can still be short in both story length and development time; mainline Final Fantasy games can completely change up the format and genre and have it still feel like a Final Fantasy game; and you should always put Rider Kicks in your video games.

5. Honkai: Star Rail

After being disillusioned by Pokémon games in the wake of Sword & Shield, to the point where I haven’t even touched the new games, I was beginning to think that perhaps my love for turn-based RPGs had faded away. Not that there’s anything wrong with the genre, or that Pokémon games are the only ones worth playing, but I had realized that I hadn’t played a single turn-based RPG since Sword & Shield, and I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to dive into a new one. Honkai: Star Rail showed me that I was wrong; I do still love turn-based RPGs, I just needed to take the plunge and play one that hadn’t become stale to me. I’m a bit trepidatious about recommending Honkai: Star Rail to anyone given its status as a gacha game, but I will bring up why I find it such a fascinating game to play. Right off the rip, if you’ve played Genshin Impact, it’s abundantly clear that Honkai: Star Rail is built off the bones of its older sibling. The interface and menus are nearly identical, and it’s exceedingly obvious how much of HSR is straight-up reusing systems from Genshin Impact. That said, I am always in favor of developers recycling and reusing assets, systems, engines, models, animations, sound effects, and anything else, as game development is already a difficult and challenging process. 

With its turn-based combat system, HSR combines two things that often sell me on games; a class system, and an elemental system. Each character has a class, called a Path, and element, with the Path determining their role in a party, and their element determining their effectiveness against enemies. These can combine in fun ways, and even when characters match in both Path and element, they can still have radically different playstyles. The combat system is fairly simple, but it has a snappy ebb and flow to it that makes it engaging from start to finish. Its storyline is intriguing enough, with cosmic forces clashing in a galactic war that’s sometimes hot and sometimes cold, each side fielding factions big and small to further their own ends, but like with Genshin Impact, Honkai: Star Rail’s story is ongoing and as of now, unfinished. Time will tell how well the story winds up being, but for now, I’m content to blow up hordes of enemies with the funny SMG woman.

4. System Shock (2023)

System Shock 2 is one of my favorite games of all time, and when I went to investigate the original System Shock from 1994, I was immediately put off by the clunkiness of its gameplay. I don’t really care if a game looks dated or is graphically lackluster, since graphics should serve the game’s art direction and gameplay, and while System Shock (1994) has a very distinct art style that perfectly fits its tone, the gameplay was too of the era. When Nightdive Studios announced a full remake of System Shock, I was excited to play a more modernized spin on the precursor to System Shock 2, and let me tell you; System Shock (2023) does not disappoint. As far as an FPS game goes, it’s fairly rudimentary and simple, but that simplicity is deceptive. The shooting feels as good as it needs to feel, and the animations on the weapons are far more intricate than they’d need to be. It’s very distinct watching your character reload what looks like a plastic toy gun with the rote efficiency and mechanical nature one would use to reload a real firearm, and that toy gun comment is not a criticism. 

System Shock (2023) has such a unique art direction that’s really quite something to behold. Instead of making the whole game look fully modernized, with “realistic” interpretations of locations and more grounded models and textures, as one might see from games like DOOM (2016), Nightdive went for an upscaling of the original game’s art direction. The areas look almost identical to their 29-year-old counterparts, albeit with more polygons, better lighting, better textures, and a modern rendering engine. The same is true for the enemies and many of the items found throughout Citadel Station. If you walk up close to some of the textures, you can see where they’ve artificially blown up the pixel size to give them a crunchiness that contrasts with the smoothness of some other components of the environment. The visuals in System Shock (2023) are so fascinating to me because they’re such a perfect answer to the question of how best to recreate an older game and retain the spirit of its original art direction, and the markings of the cultural era it was created in. System Shock (2023) looks, feels, and plays like a ‘90s comic book interpretation of a dystopian cyberpunk future, and I truly enjoyed every second of it.

3. Lies of P

I love Lies of P. When this game was first announced, I and many others thought it would be the same Action RPG slop we’d come to expect from many, many games who have died on the blade of trying to be “The Next Souls Game” in a perverse modern version of the 2000’s onslaught of would-be “Halo Killer” shooter games. But it must be said: Neowiz Games and Round8 Studio pulled it off. They’ve proven that you do not have to be From Software to make a game with this caliber of punchy, weighty combat infused within a surreal, forlorn world beset by a larger-than-life tragedy, with all the atmosphere and attention to detail both required to excel. Lies of P is going to be one of my gold standards going forward; this is what a game can be when it has a cohesive, focused vision, and the teams and talents required to realize it. This is what a game can be when its premise is leaned into wholeheartedly, and not shunned or mocked or ashamed of what it’s all about. This is what a game can be when it seems at first blush to be a pale imitation of something great, but it turns out to have been great in its own right, with its own soul, all along.

2. Pathologic 2

What an incredible game Pathologic 2 turned out to be. Going into it I had a lot of preconceived notions and expectations about how it was going to go, given the game’s reputation. As I said with Lethal Company, I’m not really a horror game person, and while Pathologic 2 isn’t quite as intense as some other titles, it’s certainly filled with tension and stress, and there were at least three in-game days where I was scared out of my wits. The art direction of Pathologic 2 is quite unique, as is its setting and general premise, and I’m surprised how well Ice-Pick Lodge were able to both capture the particular time period and cultural influences they blended together in the first Pathologic, and refine them visually into a style that expertly conveys the myriad emotions and moods the game evokes throughout a playthrough. This merges beautifully with the gameplay, putting you in the body of Artemy Burakh as he desperately tries to find a way to save his hometown from a catastrophe and live up to his father’s legacy.

There is so much I could say about Pathologic 2, and while I do believe it’s an incredible experience and a wonderful game everyone should play, I will say this: Pathologic 2 is a game filled with juxtapositions. They permeate every aspect of it, from the clean, minimalist user interface that’s strikingly full of character and detail, to Artemy being branded as a murderer yet tasked with protecting children and treating patients, to the machinations of the various townsfolk torn between the ancient old and the mysterious new, and to the game’s ability to portray warm moments of small, quiet coziness, and desolate nightmares of sheer, stark despair. Pathologic 2 is a game for the ages, and I’m glad I finally got around to playing it.

1. Pathologic Classic HD

That’s right, baby; did you think I was done talking about Pathologic? Not on your life, my friend, for after finishing Pathologic 2 I almost immediately went into Pathologic Classic HD, the 2015 rerelease of the first Pathologic  from 2004 (2005 outside of Russia). Pathologic 2 was a spectacular experience, but I had to go higher, dig deeper, and really sink my teeth into the roots of this story, its characters, and the game that started it all. Pathologic  is even more notorious than its sequel, and I wrote a whole piece back in September about how much I thoroughly enjoyed the game and found it to be quite fun despite its reputation. The funny thing is that Shadows of Doubt was actually the catalyst for getting me to try both Pathologic games. All three of them are first-person games with unorthodox melee combat, survival mechanics such as sleeping, eating, and managing status effects, and trying not to die while walking down streets and investigating leads. Shadows of Doubt is obviously a less brutal, less story-focused game than either Pathologics, but getting a handle on its mechanics opened up my willingness to try something that would bite back. I started with Pathologic 2 because I had actually played up to the end of Day 5 back in late 2022, but after finishing it, I felt compelled to play its much rougher predecessor. Seeing the through lines of plots and character arcs as they originally played out in Pathologic, with the knowledge of how they were reinterpreted in Pathologic 2 had this surreal effect where both versions wound up elevating each other; the old providing the blueprint and framework for the new, and the new serving to accentuate how little they ultimately had to change, because they got so much right the first time. The two of them are two of the greatest games of all time, and I say that with zero hyperbole or exaggeration.

The post Spencer’s Top 8 Games of 2023 appeared first on Gamesline.

A new week, a new episode of the Gamesline Podcast. This week, John and Spencer sit down to talk about everything around the games industry. John’s been digging into Like A Dragon: Infinite Wealth while Skull has gotten up to a lot in Infinifactory, Library of Ruina, Lethal Company, and of course Arknights.

In the news, Fate/Stay Night Remaster is coming to the West, a Persona 3 Reload data mine gave us The Answer, and The State of Play gave us a look at Death Stranding 2 On the Beach. We got more news about some Yu-Gi-Oh stuff and found out Microsoft games are going multiplatform all while Love Live School Idol Festival 2 was announced and cancelled all in the same tweet.

If you want to skip potential Like a Dragon Spoilers there are minor spoilers from 1:14:15 to 1:17:10

You can support us on our Patreon, and follow us on Twitter @TheGamesline, @john_michonski, and @SolaireHazard.

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The post The Gamesline Podcast Ep. 30: Like A Podcast: Infinite Wealth appeared first on Gamesline.

It’s time! Spencer is back on the pod to join John in talking about the week in games. John’s been playing more Fate/Samurai Remnant and Spider-Man 2 while Spencer has been living in the Pathologic games and Starfield. In the news, Microsoft is bricking third party peripherals and Nintendo patents are showing what the next Switch might be. Bungie was hit with a bunch of layoffs and then they talk about all the announcements coming out of Blizzcon.

We also celebrated the entire weekend with a marathon stream for Extra Life. Please help us reach our goal of $300 by hitting up our donation page.

You can support us on our Patreon, and follow us on Twitter @TheGamesline, @john_michonski, @MaverickDrifter, and @fkasocks.

Also, don’t forget to rate and review us on iTunes, and tell a friend about the show! If you want to send in questions send them to our ask box at gamesline.tumblr.com/ask.

You can also join our Discord channel at thegamezone.zone!

Our theme song is “Crush” by Melt Channel, from the album Magic is Real.

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Edited by Lorelai

The post The Gamesline Podcast Ep. 23: Goated With the Sauce appeared first on Gamesline.