I don’t know about “addictive”, but I can tell you that playing SMAC with 5 to 7 human players, and no AIs, will definitely have a… transformative… effect on your life. You will be amazed at how quickly things go from
We’re all coworkers, let’s have some strategy game fun !
to
Psst, hey, I saw Joe and Bob talking in the corridor the other day. Couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it Bob mimed an airplane with his hands at one point. Yeah. I know they’re supposed to be enemies, and so are we, but if they beat us to Air Power, we’re both in trouble… When was the last time you talked to your allies, anyway ? Just think about it...
Alpha Centauri is much more conducive to abject paranoia than Diplomacy, though—at least, the way we played it. We would start a game by taking turns on the same machine, for the first 10 turns or so, during lunch. Then, we would go back to work, and take our turn on that machine when it came up (we’d VNC into it). This way, the game doesn’t disturb our actual work too much, and each player can take as long to micromanage his cities as he wants.
Thus, all the player-to-player interaction takes place on back channels—through email, or clandestine meetings. This fact, combined with the knowledge that one tech advance, or one airstrike at the right time, could shift the entire balance of power, results in truly Cold War-grade levels of paranoia. It is an exhilarating experience, in a way.
I should probably mention that no relationships were ruined by our games, either, as far as I can tell. A game is still only a game, after all.
I don’t know about “addictive”, but I can tell you that playing SMAC with 5 to 7 human players, and no AIs, will definitely have a… transformative… effect on your life. You will be amazed at how quickly things go from
to
Trust no one.
I’ve successfully played diplomacy games with friends without it ruining any friendships.
Alpha Centauri is much more conducive to abject paranoia than Diplomacy, though—at least, the way we played it. We would start a game by taking turns on the same machine, for the first 10 turns or so, during lunch. Then, we would go back to work, and take our turn on that machine when it came up (we’d VNC into it). This way, the game doesn’t disturb our actual work too much, and each player can take as long to micromanage his cities as he wants.
Thus, all the player-to-player interaction takes place on back channels—through email, or clandestine meetings. This fact, combined with the knowledge that one tech advance, or one airstrike at the right time, could shift the entire balance of power, results in truly Cold War-grade levels of paranoia. It is an exhilarating experience, in a way.
I should probably mention that no relationships were ruined by our games, either, as far as I can tell. A game is still only a game, after all.
The diplomacy games I’m referring to were also played one move a day.