28 August 2017

Gimme SOMA That Biomech Lovin'

Oh lordy. This game, y'all.

So a friend of mine who knows I love me some survival horror recommended Soma to me a while back. And I was like, eh, perhaps indeed.  And then I tried it. And now I'm like...holy fuck.


I am six beers into a horror game that is tapping into every fear I have so...you know. This shit is happening.

First of all, a lovely warning, as with all amazing games:

Mind it.

So Soma is a game which begins ever so innocently with a fellow in a shitty apartment in Toronto. He seems to have dain bramage, and his place is a fucking mess, mostly because I threw all of his shit around because YOU CAN GRAB EVERYTHING OKAY.

He goes to some shabby joint that looks like someone is either in the process of moving in or moving out hella fast.  There's a syringe on the floor because hep. And an overturned chair in the hallway because YOU CAN GRAB EVERYTHING OKAY.

Then you get in a freaky contraption and...

BOOM. You wake up in Rapture (I mean Upsilon), an underwater facility full of creepy apocalyptic notes and sentient machines. Angry sentient machines. Angry sentient machines that cross the boundaries between antagonistic, stolen, human consciousness and a mechanical, disconnected, strange fascination/empathy.

Do androids dream of electric sheep?
On one hand, machines seem hell bound to hunt you down. On the other, some keep human bodies alive at all costs, downloading their consciousness and memories to replay at your will.


Apparently, this biomechanical nightmare has something to do with everyone at Upsilon either fleeing or dying horribly:

He had a bad day, okay? Just leave him alone. Definitely don't walk over him to see if he squelches.

And has leeched out into the depths of the dark ocean, resulting in half tech fish and roaming crackhead (I mean structure-gel-head) bots:

"You're real. Give me some for the pain. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS?"
Side note: definitely do not walk right up to this bot and try to give it drugs.
So, without further ado, here are some more creepy screenshots until I can play some more and stream it:

Nothing creepier than boots littered everywhere without anyone to wear them.
Then, BOOM, you're underwater, breathing normally, because tbh you're probably a robot who doesn't want to admit he's no longer a human. I mean how else could you have survived this long, right? Totes robot. "How did I get a flashlight?" Because you're a robot, bitch, deal.

"It won't let me die. Nothing is allowed to die."

I gave that bitch some death. Bitches love death?


01 May 2017

Triggers in Horror Games

Three separate people have warned me not to play Outlast 2.

(Give it to me baby, uh huh, uh huh)

Y'all know Outlast is my favorite game franchise. I'm a Red Barrels fangirl. I follow their Twitter. I played their demo. I want all the things Outlast.

So when three people let me know that I would not be able to play Outlast 2 without being majorly triggered, well, that sucked.

But on the flipside, I don't ever want game designers to hold back.

Hit me with the gnarly, gritty, nasty guts and bits. The blood, the gore. The heartbreaking decisions that make me feel like an awful person. The jump scares, the shock, the rotting, pitted underbelly of humanity and horror.

Now, some people are under the impression that trigger warnings are a bad thing. That they are somehow enabling for the spoiled, weak generation that can't cope.


Trigger warnings exist so that folks who have, oh, I don't know, lived through a very real trauma, don't have to spend the next day or week in a dark place due to an unfortunate surprise.  If that person isn't you, don't worry your pretty little head about it.  Just listen to your fellow gamers.  Watch out for your peeps.  Give 'em a heads up and offer to take over the controller for a bit.  Have their back.  They'll have yours, should you ever need it.

It would be RAD if there was a collectively used, dedicated space for gamers to alert each other to the triggers in various games, since they're not all blatantly obvious.  Maybe there is, and I just don't know about it.  But in the meantime, I'll stick to relying on alerts from my amigos while I get my survival horror on.

               Is it gonna stop me?

Hell to the naw.

But if it stops you, know that you aren't the only one, and I gotchu.