Games? Nice. Playing? Us. Yes. Playing? You. Yes?
I’m going to play Dark Fear
, the horror adventure with the porcelain doll and the fishing and the hunting. The Witcher 3
is still very much on my plate as well and I found myself missing it almost as much as I missed my loved ones when I was trapped in Los Angeles for E3 last week. Let’s keep that between ourselves though. I’m making good progress and will be digging into the expansions SOON.
When not hiding in the bathroom and muttering “it’ll be ok it’ll be ok it’ll be ok” to myself, I might spend another eight hours trying and failing to make my Oculus Rift display an image again. I miss Voodoo 2s.
It might seem a good weekend to sit by the sea but I suspect the weather will frown on that. A good weekend to sit up a mist-cloaked hill, perhaps. Also Darkest Dungeon
because I’m determined to beat the town event mission Wolves at the Door
, which twice has come around when my finest heroes were laid up in bed or half-mad. This time I’m prepared. I’ve had a burly Man-at-Arms with some top pals waiting for ages for Wulf to come round again. He’ll stop those bastard bombs all right.
[Graham has retreated a strange and distant isle. Who knows if it will even still be there once this fog lifts? Wailing people at the nearest port beg fisherman to row them out, clutching cursed lamps, paws, gems, and trinkets in their hands and crying someone must be there to help them, to take these curses back, someone must be.]
I shall be playing being ill, because 2016 is my Year Of Being Ill. I shall attempt to level up on grumbling, and invest points in aching and sighing.
And now I’ve realised I can cloud share my save between phone and PC, playing a load more Crashlands no matter where I sit.
This weekend. I don’t know. I’m writing this on Friday and just feeling so sad and disappointed and angry. What will I play? I don’t know. I don’t want to poison games I like with this mood. I might spend it in the garden, identifying insects and watching the frogs bask in the sunlight. That feels like a restful thing to do. Or maybe something I haven’t done in even longer – drawing on the patio with coloured chalk, absorbed by the textures and dust and transience. It’s strangely soothing and fun to do when you’re babysitting too.
But you, dearest reader, what are you playing?