Shoot-'em-ups started innocently enough. Spacewar blasted its way onto computers back in the 1960s, and after Space Invaders was released, the rest was history. Galaga and Galaxian would go on to further popularize the genre,...
My first "loot-based" game was Diablo. I blame my addiction entirely on my friend Joey, who I played the game with online by way of a dial-up connection. Yep, it wasn't my fault at all in the slightest.
He just had to tell me...
Read this list and let me know if it sounds like a good time.
Crunching numbers in the wee hours of the night to maximize damage output. Grinding out levels and letting auto-attack handle things for a few seconds while you play the air drums to Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight." Watching 10 different damage meters and battlelogs to see if everyone is running an efficient rotation.
Do these things sound like hell to you? To me, it's by and large why MMOs bring me joy that many other genres can't.
When you think of the word "trap," what's the first thing that comes to mind? If your psyche isn't in the darkest depths of the catacombs, you're probably thinking of a mechanical device with the purpose of inflicting harm up on another entity. How could that not bring joy to your heart?
For some reason, the prospect of out-crafting other AI and unsuspecting players cures me like a Black Forest ham. There's a certain sense of accomplishment in luring people into traps that virtual shooting, stabbing, punching, or any form of maiming can't replicate. It's a shame that there aren't more trap-setting games, because playing them is one of my greatest joys in gaming.
You walk into an arcade. Whether you just finished playing miniature golf, swinging a bat in the batting cages, or just decided to make your way to one of the few remaining standalone arcades hidden in some random downtown nook, it doesn't matter. You are in an arcade and you are happy.
As you walk around on the gaudy, gloriously retro carpet, the smell of lukewarm pizza and burnt popcorn fills the air. The light of a claw machine reflects off the side of an unpolished token dispenser. Kids run past you, waving long trails of red tickets in their hands, as you make your way to the very back of the cabinet-filled room.