You know, I never thought much of Obsidian. Despite them making Fallout: New Vegas, which is beloved. However, they absolutely blew my tits off with The Outer World. Which means I’m completely down with Avowed, clearly their take on Skyrim. Here’s the trailer!

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Obsidian, the folks behind Fallout: New Vegas, and the creators of the original Fallout are going to space for their new RPG. And, it looks fucking rad.

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Obsidian is totally ninja-ing the main mind behind Diablo 3.

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I know Obsidian as “that fucking company” which “put out that pile of shit KOTOR 2“, for better or worse. I know the game was rushed, I know. I know Obsidian as “that fucking company” which “put out that pile of shit Fallout: New Vegas“, for better or worse. I know that many people love that game, I know. But I’m not swell on the company, even if their last game, Pillars of Eternity was widely praised. Who knows. It’s a “me” thing, but I’m trying to be excited for the announcement of their newest game, Tyranny.

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Somehow. Some fucking how, Obsidian has raised nearly $4 million on Kickstarter. Color me flummoxed. All I know the good folks over there at that gaming company for is shitting out sequels to cherished games.

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Game Informer has revealed its January cover, which is sporting an interesting confluence. South Parker, and gaming. Obsidian is helming it, and I already feel bad for fans of the franchise. Fuck Obsidian, and their glorious destruction of both the Fallout and Knights of the Old Republic franchises. #Bitterness

Hit the jump for the cover.

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Obsidian Entertainment. The company that (to me) took a fat shit all over the KOTOR and Fallout franchises. Twice being tagged in to come up with sequels to beast mode wunder-titles. Twice defecating. Everywhere. Now they’re developing for an enormous animation franchise or something. I feel bad for this foolish company.

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I absolutely love the Fallout: New Vegas wiki. ‘Cause yes, despite my griping, I’m totally into the video game. I don’t contribute anything to it, but I’m ecstatic that every time I have a question about a quest or a location, I can hit up the site and it’ll do my bidding. I’ve always been amazed at how fucking dedicate the people updating it are. Now I know specifically how god damn insane these fellow wastelanders’ work ethic happens to be. In the first week of the game’s release, there were 475,000 man-hours logged on the FNV wiki.

Jesus Christ.

Destructoid:

According to the magic of traffic-measurement tools, it seems that the unofficial Fallout: New Vegas wiki logged over 475,000 man-hours work within less than a week of the game’s release. Traffic spikes hit Wikia’s servers harder than a ground zero detonation, registering some 2.5 million visitors over that period – seven times the normal amount for the network. Fans created and edited hundreds upon hundreds of pages of information full of everything from quest walkthroughs and item locations to obscure trivia and bug reports.

Kudos, you hard working dorks! Now get back to slaving away on it, I have questions. That need answers. Now!

Despite all my lamenting about Fallout: New Vegas, last night had me running around out of my god damn mind. Giggling, like a motherfucking mad man. I have this issue where when I make someone explode with a violent weapon, it induces all sorts of insane glee in the bowels of my soul. Nothing makes me happier than launching a concussive blast sent to dismember and liquefy someone dumb enough to cross my path.

I noticed this dementia when playing through Fallout 3. I was playing the game while Mrs. Caffeine Powered looked on, and eventually I began to notice she looked worried. Shrug. I continued playing. But the fretting continued! What the fuck was this shit. She looked uncomfortable. At some point I noticed that every time I shot someone with my gauss rifle, the poor son of a bitch would be sorted into a bunch of bloodied and mushy parts. Smashed, vaporized, and sent flying through the air.

However, the next connection was even more important. Every single time that I ripped some errant douchebag apart with my rifle, I laughed. Out loud. To myself. Every single time. I don’t know why I was laughing out loud. You see, when I play by myself, usually these exploding bodies just make me smile. Broadly, and with empty, insane eyes.

Perhaps I was trying to convey my enthusiasm to my girlfriend. “You see honey! Do you see how they explode into bits! I did that! For you! Isn’t it fantastic? SAY YES OR I’LL HIDE YOUR BODY SO WELL.”

This sort of head-exploding nightmare dance party hadn’t really gotten underway in my playthrough of New Vegas. Until last night. Yes, last night I was finally reunited with my favorite wasteland friends: power armor, and a gauss rifle. It was a reunion drenched in blood and hugs. I suited up, loaded up, and shimmied my way through my pirouetting dance of death. Finally, New Vegas had begun to make sense to me.

Fire! Slow-motion explode. Body parts everywhere. Smile. Fire! Concussive blast liquiefying a body. Smile. Fire! My smile broadened and broadened. Life was good. I let it be known to frequent commenter The Dude exactly how I was feeling about my current situation in the Wasteland.

12:02:26 AM Ian: I’m clad in power armor, wielding a gauss rifle. I can hear the voice of god screaming murder.

Exceptional! There’s something about an exploding body that just speaks to me. It’s probably speaking to all the broken synapses held down and pinned into something resembling functioning by anti-psychotics, but who is keeping track? Those synapses need attention too.