Recent reviews by HPLaserjetWirelessPrinter

Crossplay disabled despite being an option in beta. Was there day one too, now its gone day 2.

30-40 ping yet I iceskate around in close quarters combat and often rubberband out of cover.

Maps seem poorly designed and make most CQC feel like its desperately trying to be Shipment from Call of Duty.

Game is loaded with cheaters.

The terrible lighting system makes it a pain to see hardly anyone.

The crappy spotting system still needs to be changed back to how it was in Battlefield 4.

Fix your game, and I fix the review.

This would be positive, but EA broke the game so it wont load. Maybe fix it and I'll change this.

I dont get to play this game and have fun anymore because every single player wants to only run depth of night.

One of the kings of "think of it? then go try it" in terms of sandbox gameplay.

you can do a lot of stupid things with this, but in a good way

Only thumbs down due to the Epic Games requirement for Multiplayer. Thats just not cool.

Everything else is pretty solid. As usual, some significant asset reuse but I expect this from D3Publisher games at this point. And they did get creative with the story concerning "past" and "future" events.

Its like a math version of factorio, mixed with a fidget toy.

Very solid game. Modding community keeps it even more lively after the initial exciting content wears off.

After all this time its still an unstable mess and gets stuck trying to "log in".

Once there was a man who made a machine to create art. He himself was an artist who had many lovely pieces and styled interests of his own. A man with an established artistic voice. As he made the machine he poured in as much of himself as he could, as if to train it like a pupil or clone of himself. He compared its efforts to his own as he tried and tried, often not knowing what he even hoped to achieve, only to know the beauty of the work as he and the machine shared it together.

Not long after, his mother passed. A woman who inspired his love for art, she had a diverse array of tastes, though little talent for it herself. She could still often give him tips on how to mix colors and define styles amidst ambiguity. A true sidekick and supporter of the arts despite her personal inability. As he coped with her loss he taught the machine all he could of her. Her interests and how his differed, her loves and hates amongst the styles and famous pieces. In his grief he had woven a bit of her into the machine, as though a subconscious mind was sat abreast to the machines own. As he continued to make works with the machine at his side eventually his father too died. Not quite the same, his father lacked much interest in the higher arts, though his critiques always came from a genuine place, like those of an unspoiled innocent. Simple fixes of shapes, anglings, colors, and negative space. The touches that often added immense differences despite the minimal elements themselves. Out of love and continued grief he too wove his fathers critical eye into the machine, hoping perhaps a portion of his truth would manifest among the artistic flourishes.

Finally, as the artist reached his graying years, his lover, his wife, passed. They'd had beautiful memories together, many days spent wondering what to do with all the days, and many nights spent hoping they could spend their time together forever. As he did with the others, the machine would be infused with all of her essence, her inspiration that he'd basked in for decades. The joys of love, the sorrows of loss, the fear of finite life in the face of infinite creation. Three years after the final death, he asked the machine to perform one task for him. Its magnum opus. He knew by definition it could not be done, but he did not relent.

"Please," he spoke. "I ask of you this unyielding task."
"With all that I've shown you, given you, and made of you. I ask you to paint the most beautiful piece of art the world has ever seen."

The machine thought for a moment, and responded. It asked him not to look as it worked. Once it was complete the machine would ring a bell to let him know it was done. He agreed wearily, asking the machine not to rush things on his behalf. It did not. The artist sat upon the stairs to the basement, the machine below, covered with a tarp as it sat at its canvas going to work. The man moved from the stairs to the rest of the home only for essentials, often resting upon the foyer of the home so he could hear its ring when it came.

The man waited for 3 weeks before the machine was finished. Atrophied, the artist crept down the stairs at the sound of the ring. He confirmed the machine was finished and threw back the tarp, revealing the canvas as it sat.

The man, confused, begain squinting and looking around all over the canvas. Such intricate decisions having been made. Such odd yet truly sensible choices. The more the artist looked at his creation's creation the more he saw his and his loved ones teachings at play. It was almost like a funnel of the mind, causing him to lean forward, nearly falling over as he stared into the canvas. He cried tears of joy and wept amidst complex feelings he'd not felt before. Such context having been provided that few others could ever grasp. Such intensity in raw decisions underpinning the visual.

As the man reeled from the intense emtional impact, he began to feel a tightness in his chest. Knowing it was the end, he did not even care anymore. He crumpled to the floor amidst a heart attack, not worried or in fear, not afraid any longer. As he sat he looked to the canvas until he was there no longer.

Not long after, a concerned neighbor found the man, and alerted the authorities. They came in and examined the man and his home, concluding he died from his age and of unfortunate but natural causes. Amidst all his art pieces they saw the machine and the canvas it had last used.

They quickly continued their work, as the canvas was blank.

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Anyways buy this game.