Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2013 0:53:02 GMT
"The serene setting... seeing the sun rise over the hills and sit atop the sky, a radiant king atop his mountain. It illuminates this world's beauty, a world untainted by man's demons. Here, flowers bloom in full view, each one detailed in their own special way. Vibrant violets, perfect purples, gorgeous greens; a rainbow of colours twisting up and up into the sky. The light shines upon them creating a kaleidoscope of beauty that holds all before it in awe. And I am mesmerised.
... That is until I notice that most of the textures take forever to load in.
I turn to the side, and what do I see? A pancake, colour barely loaded. It looks like a dinosaurs bile!
I walk around, and I notice that I'm walking on thin air! For a game priding its self in its visuals, all I can think is why the hell they didn't play test this piece of crap.
They didn't even render the floors properly.
Whats worse is that there are NO redeeming factors to this game! This was advertised, no joke, as a therapeutic simulator. No story, no actualgameplay, not a single character in sight. I could forgive other simulators for this, as they normally let you change your scenery and actually had effort placed into them, not to mention they're cheep, but as I have said in previous reviews, I only really use them as a screensaver of sorts for me to stuff all of my junk files in. This game cost me ten thousand credits, and it has nothing besides flowers! This game doesn't calm me down, it makes me angry! I feel outright swindled. Even in if it isn't bugging out, I find the disco like lights in this otherwise serene and empty setting to be rather jarring and my eyes swiveled around in protest, and that's coming from someone who spends 48 hours at a time immersed in virtual reality. Don't buy this piece of crap, and I'll see you next week."
The auditorium of people who had been watching nodded with satisfied smiles on their faces, and soon left the room as the credits rolled down a stage in the center of the circular auditorium. Another episode of Virtual Critic had ended, and now the streaming services of sever 2-56 were down, although there were a few numbers ranging in the thousands which never sat still, representing guests watching older recordings.
A man who stood impossibly tall stood on the stage. 8ft and built like a beanpole. He wore a top hat which brought him all the way up to 9ft and wore a long black cape which ended at his pointed shoes. This was the Virtual Critc. He seemed to simply stand there, motionless, his face which was hidden in shadow breaking out into a large grin. A grin which shone bright red all across the calm, blue area. He readjusted his monocle and tapped the cane he was holding in his wiry hands, bringing up a menu that floated before him. He swiftly flicked through all of the options and closed down the stream, selecting 'return to private server'. The world folded away neatly, the blue gave way to an infinite blackness that seemed to remain for an eternity as he continued to stand motionless.
"Lag..." Critic mumbled to himself. He waited for slightly longer as something approached him, lurching forward unnaturally. He took a step forward, but he got no closer to what was approaching him.
"Load goddamn you I pay good money for these surfaces..." He said to himself, bashing his cane against the invisible walls of the void.
With no end in sight, he once again brought up his menu and clicked on the small little circular arrow pointing at its tail. A neat little symbol which encompassed the word 'refresh' so eloquently.
The world returned to darkness then he soon found himself in a small room.
"About time... if it can do it so fast now why doesn't it always do so the first time?" He said to himself as he was entering.
It was a room with no free space in it, decorated by pictures of the man in various environments including space and the viking era, among many other wondrous locations, as well as various awards and game achievements. Models of concept arts for his favorite games and shows popped out at him as he walked past. Finally as he walked past his desk, a keyboard of options appeared before him, including 'options' 'customize' 'software' and 'return', all of which he decided to ignore for the time being.
He pushed past a wall at the end of the room which opened up into a room of mirrors. The door closed behind him and he was now fully immersed in his own image repeated ad infinitum.
He looked shocked as he noticed that he had his grin plastered permanently onto his face.
"Oh geez, I did the stream looking like that? Maybe I can post edit? Ahh but the fans..." Critic said to himself, throwing his hands up into the air and letting go of his cane, which subsequently disappeared.
He touched his face and a menu popped up, the options here being a selection of mouths from the humanoid to the monstrous to his private set, which he personally had trademarked on account of them being his own designs. They fit his entirely black face permanently, a light show instead of facial expressions. He picked a blue mouth which was relatively small and modest compared to his previously elaborate grin, now all he had was a simple blue line. He changed his monocle from gold to silver, and darkened the lighting on his face.
"Maybe I should stop doing streams from now on... give myself some time." He said to himself again. He pushed his way through a mirror and found himself back inside his room, the main hub of his private server.
He sat down in his chair and allowed himself to slump which considering his size looked very odd indeed. He tapped on the options in front of him and checked his earnings.
He groaned again as he saw the graphs. There was certainly a 1% decrease in viewership over the past year, it had only been picking up again recently with the streams. Except live performances were not exactly his forte. He predicted a further drop in viewership as this became more and more apparent.
He swiveled around and looked at some highlights of recent episodes. They animated, showing him inside the virtual world of whatever he had been reviewing and talking about it, providing brutal criticisms as the crowd applauded.
Looking back across the wall however, he saw his earlier episodes. So much more flare and passion. While his avatar as the Virtual Critic had remained the same over the years save for slight changes in facial expressions, he had noticed a change. His viewers had noticed a change. It was a lack of flare.
He sighed and as he decided to head to a public server for a little while and grind on some viruses, the defeat of which provided credits granted by companies who wished to have their servers protected from these anonymous attackers. It didn't provide nearly as much cash as Critic's internet show, however Critic found the bloodless violence therapeutic and it helped him socalise and spread his name, which was essential for his survival.
As he was opening his menu however, the room flashed red and a siren blared, and a message appeared in front of critic.
"REAL BODY IN NEED OF FOOD AND EXERCISE. AUTO-BOOTING. UNSAVED DOCUMENTS WILL BE SAVED." It read, and spoke in a harsh robotic tone.
"Tsk. Why wont they let me just die already So I can spend all my time here?" Critic said to himself as the world he breathed faded away.
Critic jolted awake as he returned to reality. The world was black, and the first thing he always felt upon returning was a headache that reminded him of what he imagined a chainsaw imbedded in his head and running must feel like. Then, the world opened up, shining bright on his face and causing his eyes to feel intense pain.
"Off. OFF!" He called weakly, but he heard a voice telling him that everything was as dark as they could make it.
Eventually, everything settled. Critic tried his best to breath in this alien environment. It took him nearly 20 minuites to recuperate, which was faster than usual. Eventually, when his hunger had begun to overcome him, he slowly began unplugging the wires which were dug deep under his skin, and removed the helmet too.
"The textures on my ceiling have such a low resolution." He said to himself as he stared up at it.
Eventually, he gained the energy to crawl out of bed, and sat upright, slowly twisting his hands and feet around in circles and getting the kinks out of his neck and other aching joints.
He shakily stood up, and, holding desperately onto anything in the room he could find, made his way over to the mirror.
He smiled wryly.
He was almost as thin in real life as he was as the virtual critic, although not nearly as cool or tall at only 5ft. His hair grew out long and had gone a filthy brown, and his ugly face had unsightly wrinkles making him look far older than he actually was.
"How old was I again?" He thought allowed as he thought this.
Paying it no mind, Critic turned away. No one ever saw that side to him, anyway, in fact Critic saw it as a medal of his total abandonment of the physical world. All he had to do was save up the credits and he could permanently become the Virtual Crtic, immortalised by having his brain patterns transferred into data, rather than simply fooling it's senses as it currently did. He envied the god-like entities who had had their brains copied onto the system. Rich and famous beyond imagination, able to forever wonder the infinite imagination of the virtual realm. A realm critic loved, loved enough to point out the flaws as well as the many, many positives he found in it. Alas, however, here he was, stuck to at the very least maintain his own personal link, the only thing which was a problem in the real world at present. The real life machinery needs to be maintained, as do real life natural disasters and crimes committed on unsuspecting people, who were hooked up to bliss. Critic never gave his real identity away however, he couldn't even remember it, and as such he remained safe.
He felt his heart try to leap out his mouth as his hunger reached critical levels.
He walked over to the fridge and quickly scoffed down some pills with some filthy water, then began gnawing on stale bread as he prepared his Carbohydrate brew which he always had ordered for him, and it along with everything else he needed arrived in the mail. He also got some letters from people he couldn't remember, and taxes which he paid for online. All the pills and disgusting combinations of mixtures he took restored his energy and opened his eyes to the gloom.
As he regained energy, he emptied his bowels in the bath room and did a few pushups. It was tough going, but it was all necessary if he was to maintain his existence for the time being.
Eventually, he decided to head to bed for real sleep, which was also a requirement. The brain took a rest from most functions while under, but sometimes it needs to completely shut down.
As he closed his eyes, he stayed awake, thinking about what he was going to review next, as the Virtual Critic with the red grin plastered onto his face began to cackle.
... That is until I notice that most of the textures take forever to load in.
I turn to the side, and what do I see? A pancake, colour barely loaded. It looks like a dinosaurs bile!
I walk around, and I notice that I'm walking on thin air! For a game priding its self in its visuals, all I can think is why the hell they didn't play test this piece of crap.
They didn't even render the floors properly.
Whats worse is that there are NO redeeming factors to this game! This was advertised, no joke, as a therapeutic simulator. No story, no actualgameplay, not a single character in sight. I could forgive other simulators for this, as they normally let you change your scenery and actually had effort placed into them, not to mention they're cheep, but as I have said in previous reviews, I only really use them as a screensaver of sorts for me to stuff all of my junk files in. This game cost me ten thousand credits, and it has nothing besides flowers! This game doesn't calm me down, it makes me angry! I feel outright swindled. Even in if it isn't bugging out, I find the disco like lights in this otherwise serene and empty setting to be rather jarring and my eyes swiveled around in protest, and that's coming from someone who spends 48 hours at a time immersed in virtual reality. Don't buy this piece of crap, and I'll see you next week."
The auditorium of people who had been watching nodded with satisfied smiles on their faces, and soon left the room as the credits rolled down a stage in the center of the circular auditorium. Another episode of Virtual Critic had ended, and now the streaming services of sever 2-56 were down, although there were a few numbers ranging in the thousands which never sat still, representing guests watching older recordings.
A man who stood impossibly tall stood on the stage. 8ft and built like a beanpole. He wore a top hat which brought him all the way up to 9ft and wore a long black cape which ended at his pointed shoes. This was the Virtual Critc. He seemed to simply stand there, motionless, his face which was hidden in shadow breaking out into a large grin. A grin which shone bright red all across the calm, blue area. He readjusted his monocle and tapped the cane he was holding in his wiry hands, bringing up a menu that floated before him. He swiftly flicked through all of the options and closed down the stream, selecting 'return to private server'. The world folded away neatly, the blue gave way to an infinite blackness that seemed to remain for an eternity as he continued to stand motionless.
"Lag..." Critic mumbled to himself. He waited for slightly longer as something approached him, lurching forward unnaturally. He took a step forward, but he got no closer to what was approaching him.
"Load goddamn you I pay good money for these surfaces..." He said to himself, bashing his cane against the invisible walls of the void.
With no end in sight, he once again brought up his menu and clicked on the small little circular arrow pointing at its tail. A neat little symbol which encompassed the word 'refresh' so eloquently.
The world returned to darkness then he soon found himself in a small room.
"About time... if it can do it so fast now why doesn't it always do so the first time?" He said to himself as he was entering.
It was a room with no free space in it, decorated by pictures of the man in various environments including space and the viking era, among many other wondrous locations, as well as various awards and game achievements. Models of concept arts for his favorite games and shows popped out at him as he walked past. Finally as he walked past his desk, a keyboard of options appeared before him, including 'options' 'customize' 'software' and 'return', all of which he decided to ignore for the time being.
He pushed past a wall at the end of the room which opened up into a room of mirrors. The door closed behind him and he was now fully immersed in his own image repeated ad infinitum.
He looked shocked as he noticed that he had his grin plastered permanently onto his face.
"Oh geez, I did the stream looking like that? Maybe I can post edit? Ahh but the fans..." Critic said to himself, throwing his hands up into the air and letting go of his cane, which subsequently disappeared.
He touched his face and a menu popped up, the options here being a selection of mouths from the humanoid to the monstrous to his private set, which he personally had trademarked on account of them being his own designs. They fit his entirely black face permanently, a light show instead of facial expressions. He picked a blue mouth which was relatively small and modest compared to his previously elaborate grin, now all he had was a simple blue line. He changed his monocle from gold to silver, and darkened the lighting on his face.
"Maybe I should stop doing streams from now on... give myself some time." He said to himself again. He pushed his way through a mirror and found himself back inside his room, the main hub of his private server.
He sat down in his chair and allowed himself to slump which considering his size looked very odd indeed. He tapped on the options in front of him and checked his earnings.
He groaned again as he saw the graphs. There was certainly a 1% decrease in viewership over the past year, it had only been picking up again recently with the streams. Except live performances were not exactly his forte. He predicted a further drop in viewership as this became more and more apparent.
He swiveled around and looked at some highlights of recent episodes. They animated, showing him inside the virtual world of whatever he had been reviewing and talking about it, providing brutal criticisms as the crowd applauded.
Looking back across the wall however, he saw his earlier episodes. So much more flare and passion. While his avatar as the Virtual Critic had remained the same over the years save for slight changes in facial expressions, he had noticed a change. His viewers had noticed a change. It was a lack of flare.
He sighed and as he decided to head to a public server for a little while and grind on some viruses, the defeat of which provided credits granted by companies who wished to have their servers protected from these anonymous attackers. It didn't provide nearly as much cash as Critic's internet show, however Critic found the bloodless violence therapeutic and it helped him socalise and spread his name, which was essential for his survival.
As he was opening his menu however, the room flashed red and a siren blared, and a message appeared in front of critic.
"REAL BODY IN NEED OF FOOD AND EXERCISE. AUTO-BOOTING. UNSAVED DOCUMENTS WILL BE SAVED." It read, and spoke in a harsh robotic tone.
"Tsk. Why wont they let me just die already So I can spend all my time here?" Critic said to himself as the world he breathed faded away.
Critic jolted awake as he returned to reality. The world was black, and the first thing he always felt upon returning was a headache that reminded him of what he imagined a chainsaw imbedded in his head and running must feel like. Then, the world opened up, shining bright on his face and causing his eyes to feel intense pain.
"Off. OFF!" He called weakly, but he heard a voice telling him that everything was as dark as they could make it.
Eventually, everything settled. Critic tried his best to breath in this alien environment. It took him nearly 20 minuites to recuperate, which was faster than usual. Eventually, when his hunger had begun to overcome him, he slowly began unplugging the wires which were dug deep under his skin, and removed the helmet too.
"The textures on my ceiling have such a low resolution." He said to himself as he stared up at it.
Eventually, he gained the energy to crawl out of bed, and sat upright, slowly twisting his hands and feet around in circles and getting the kinks out of his neck and other aching joints.
He shakily stood up, and, holding desperately onto anything in the room he could find, made his way over to the mirror.
He smiled wryly.
He was almost as thin in real life as he was as the virtual critic, although not nearly as cool or tall at only 5ft. His hair grew out long and had gone a filthy brown, and his ugly face had unsightly wrinkles making him look far older than he actually was.
"How old was I again?" He thought allowed as he thought this.
Paying it no mind, Critic turned away. No one ever saw that side to him, anyway, in fact Critic saw it as a medal of his total abandonment of the physical world. All he had to do was save up the credits and he could permanently become the Virtual Crtic, immortalised by having his brain patterns transferred into data, rather than simply fooling it's senses as it currently did. He envied the god-like entities who had had their brains copied onto the system. Rich and famous beyond imagination, able to forever wonder the infinite imagination of the virtual realm. A realm critic loved, loved enough to point out the flaws as well as the many, many positives he found in it. Alas, however, here he was, stuck to at the very least maintain his own personal link, the only thing which was a problem in the real world at present. The real life machinery needs to be maintained, as do real life natural disasters and crimes committed on unsuspecting people, who were hooked up to bliss. Critic never gave his real identity away however, he couldn't even remember it, and as such he remained safe.
He felt his heart try to leap out his mouth as his hunger reached critical levels.
He walked over to the fridge and quickly scoffed down some pills with some filthy water, then began gnawing on stale bread as he prepared his Carbohydrate brew which he always had ordered for him, and it along with everything else he needed arrived in the mail. He also got some letters from people he couldn't remember, and taxes which he paid for online. All the pills and disgusting combinations of mixtures he took restored his energy and opened his eyes to the gloom.
As he regained energy, he emptied his bowels in the bath room and did a few pushups. It was tough going, but it was all necessary if he was to maintain his existence for the time being.
Eventually, he decided to head to bed for real sleep, which was also a requirement. The brain took a rest from most functions while under, but sometimes it needs to completely shut down.
As he closed his eyes, he stayed awake, thinking about what he was going to review next, as the Virtual Critic with the red grin plastered onto his face began to cackle.
