This time around, I knew it would be broken, removing much of that crushing disappointment. Returning with this knowledge does it some favours. In many others, it simply wasn't good enough.
In many ways, Bloodlines was the greatest game in the world. When a texture flickers on and off in front of you, or the game crashes you back to the painful reality of your hideously cluttered desktop. Or gets shot, only to fall and cry out in pain three seconds later. Real, that is, except when an NPC hovers across the room eight inches above the ground. Despite the ageing visuals, the places and people of this gritty, gothic Los Angeles are frighteningly real. The world of Bloodlines is so arresting, so marvellously cohesive, that it's difficult not to be entirely taken in. I love the sunshine, and I've rather a taste for garlic, so I've decided I'm probably not a vampire.
