Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Same Molyneux, different day

I finally got around to testing my new hard wired setup with Street Fighter on Monday night. Part of me was hoping that the newly discovered bandwidth would solve all of my problems, that some how the speed of my bits would make be a better player. Instead I was so outclassed by a Guile that I nearly tossed my arcade stick across the room (again). Losing is one thing, losing a close battle is better, and winning is best, but playing for two rounds without ever figuring out what to do is no fun at all. It was a hopeless endeavor, one that I learned nothing from, and I never want to play this person again.

Thankfully someone who is much closer to my limited skill level invited me and we played for quite a while. I was a complete bastard and through sonic booms at his fledgling Makoto until he gave up with her and moved on. It was not a very sportsmanlike move, but it felt good.

Fable III has many problems, notwithstanding how much shit Molyneux is full of (it's a lot). It is nearly indistinguishable from the last Fable, which means that it has not aged well at all. Character animations are stiff, facial animations are much worse, and the character models themselves just don't look very good. It feels like magic and ranged weapons are more important this time around, which is good because melee combat is just as boring as it ever was. Perhaps I am just outgrowing what Fable has to offer;  farting just isn't as funny as it used to be, and the same fart routine over and over just gets old. Still, it is a game that I can live with for a while. I plan on playing a very nice hero, as the light side has always felt much more productive in Fable. The only real benefit to being evil so far is killing lots of people and that really isn't much fun when they don't fight back.

This will last until the main story is done and I become bored with my wife and children. Late one evening the hero will be sitting in his home, quietly brooding over the old days. Something will snap, he will grab his dusty, neglected sword and begin to sharpen it.

'They are all out to get me,' he will mumble to himself, 'they all must die.'

It will be ugly. It also frightens me that I have this planned out.

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