The style of the Fallout universe is dictated by two things: the fact it's an apocalyptic wasteland and the way it pays destructive homage to 1950s Americana.

Fallout fans might want to take a look at this brilliant gallery, then, because it shows what an actual 1950s American town would have looked like if it was flattened by an atomic bomb.

These photos were taken at Yucca Flat in the Spring of 1955, after the US military had exploded a bomb close to an artificial town, constructed at a cost of $1 million and there to simulate the effects of a nuclear detonation on American streets, homes and people. Well, maybe not people. Mannequins.

LIFE magazine at the time covered the event, and wrote the following:

A day after the 44th nuclear test explosion in the U.S. rent the still Nevada air, observers cautiously inspected department store mannequins which were poised disheveled but still haughty on the sand sand in the homes of Yucca Flat. The figures were residents of an entire million-dollar village built to test the effects of an atomic blast on everything from houses to clothes to canned soup.

The condition of the figures - one charred, another only scorched, another almost untouched - showed that the blast, equivalent to 35,00 tons of TNT, was discriminating in its effects. As one phase of the atomic test, the village and figures help guide civil defense planning - and make clear that even amid atomic holocaust careful planning could save lives.

There may not be any mutants or radscorpions scuttling around, but everything else here looks like it could easily be somewhere you'd wander through looking for bottlecaps.

Nevada Ghosts: Rare Photos From an A-Bomb Test [LIFE, via Laughing Squid]

And now here's a cell phone that might make things better—or worse.

Sharp's upcoming Pantone 5 mobile phone comes with an onboard radiation detector. The Osaka-based electronics giant listed this as one of the phone's main features at a press conference earlier today, and it even trumpeted how this was the first smartphone in the world to have this feature.

Previously, there were radiation detectors that could be connected as peripherals to smartphones. Sharp figured out how to cram that into the handset, which is due out this July.

Online in Japan, people note that it could lead to a greater culture of fear, while on Japanese video game sites, commenters are already comparing the Sharp phone to Pip-Boy radiation detector from the Fallout games.

"I'd want it if it were shaped like the Pip-Boy 3000," wrote one. "This is like something out of Fallout," wrote another.

This is not something out of Fallout. It's real.

世界初の放射線測定機能付きスマホ「PANTONE 5 107SH」で実際に測定してみました [Gigazine]

Fan webseries Fallout: Nuka Break is, as Kotaku once observed, actually pretty good. The first season ran through 2011. Riding the wave of gamer zeitgeist in 2012, the series' creators have turned to Kickstarter to find the second season.

Fans rallied and the Kickstarter campaign met and exceeded its goals some time ago, so the second season of Nuka Break is as safe as a Vault-Tec vault. More surprising is that series creators Zack Finfrock and Brian Clevinger have potentially convinced some Fallout heavy hitters to come on board. Fallout: New Vegas senior designer Chris Avellone (who also worked on Fallout 2 and the cancelled "Van Buren" project) has agreed to join the project, as has Tim Cain, lead programmer of the original Fallout.

The pair will be involved in writing and designing season two, as well as appearing on-screen. There is, however, a catch: Avellone and Cain will join Nuka Break only if it successfully secures double its original fundraising target.

This isn't the first Kickstarter project Avellone has jumped onto; he and his team at Obsidian also agreed to lend their talents to Wasteland 2.

Fallout: Nuka Break The Series [Kickstarter, via Eurogamer]

Examining why I play the games I do sometimes yields surprising insight. It's become clear to me that many of the games I like...are kind of dating simulators, despite what the presentation or marketing might suggest. I don't think I'm supposed to admit that, though. To say something like that feels like losing legitimacy as a 'real gamer,' as if that idea even means anything. Worse: to say that seems so stereotypical, because I'm a woman. The genre seems harmless enough as an idea: they're just romance-driven games. Romance is a part of most people's lives, what's the big deal?

I've yet to meet anyone who says they play the Mass Effect franchise for the combat. Despite this, Bioware has focused on refining the combat enough that by Mass Effect 3, the franchise has a multiplayer mode that relies entirely on the action—and it's considered addictive. Even so, the acclaim for the third person role playing shooter still rests largely on the interpersonal relationships you foster with your crew mates. The combat being okay is just a bonus.

The only reason the fate of the galaxy matters is because of the people you've met along the way. Without the people, none of the politics, choices or consequences in Mass Effect mean a thing. Mass Effect 2 outright concedes this—the game revolves around the acquisition of your ‘dirty dozen' team. The real danger isn't with the Collectors, or with the destruction of the galaxy, but rather with the possibility of losing those teammates in the suicide mission. This is also why the memorial wall in Mass Effect 3, which lists fallen comrades, carries weight with players. Mass Effect isn't about the choices, it's about people and your relationships with them.

So when fellow Kotaku writer Evan Narcisse states that you need the combat in Gameological's video series The Digest, I couldn't help but muse over the viability of a combat-less Mass Effect.

Something that would focus only on what makes the series so good: the characters and your relationships with them.

Sounds like—gasp!—a dating sim to me.

Actually, a lot of games could totally work as dating sims. The idea that games need combat in order to remain interesting doesn't sit well with me. I don't think it's true. Plus, we have an overabundance of violence in games, but not nearly enough love.

Here are a few examples of games that with some refocusing could function as dating sims, from titles with strong writing and characterization, to a few silly ones because why the heck not? Hey, if there is a dating sim about pigeons, I'm convinced there can be a dating sim about anything.

Some, like Mass Effect, would lend themselves well to it...

The possibilities for juicy drama here are endless. We can probably assume Bioware will use some of their usual tropes when it comes to pursueable characters: the difficult, cold but sexy one (Miranda, Morrigan), the meek, kind but bright one (Tali, Merrill), and so on. Aside from that, to stereotype, each race has specific issues that can yield interesting results when explored in the context of intimacy. Quarians have to deal with being out of the suit, Asari tend to be overly sexualized, the way the Volus communicate is obtuse, for instance.

The special app released with Mass Effect 3, which sent players messages from the characters, could be put to good use here, too. Imagine composing text messages to your prospects, like you can in Catherine. If Bioware must include some sort of ‘morality bar,' it should work like Dragon Age 2's friendship/rivalry bar—meaning, there's multiple ways to get to know someone, depending on your approach.

If there are toothbrushes with tiny mass effect fields, I wonder if there's lingerie with mass effect fields, too? There better be, because that's what I want to gift my lover on the night before the suicide mission.

Some, like Animal Crossing, would be amusing...

Domesticity and small-town life isn't complete without romance, and so I think Animal Crossing can become more of a dating sim. This is a franchise that could take on the dating sim genre in a whimsical way.

The absurdity of having the various critters available to the player can't be denied. Still, the possibility for endearing relationships are there, especially when you consider the bizarre but amazing dialogue found in the franchise.

Imagine explaining to your beau that you're late to your date because damn Rosetti wouldn't let you go. Or sending a saucy letter to the giraffe next door with the world's most cacophonous gyroid attached. Perhaps sharing the stresses of having Mr. Nook breathing down your neck for payment of your house with a significant other. Or throwing a bottle out at sea, with an earnest hope that that special someone will receive it and reciprocate your blindly-thrown longing.

I'd play that.

Some, like Persona...kind of already are one

Honestly, I already play this role-playing franchise as if it was a dating simulator. Persona brings out the worst in me, romantically. Since there's no penalty for pursuing every potential love interest, I kind of just...become a womanizer. I'm going to blame the ‘gamer neurosis' of needing to experience everything in one go and not some latent Casanova nature in me, though. Yeah. Let's go with that.

Speaking seriously, like Mass Effect, much of what makes Persona so superb is in the characters. The game as a whole is an exploration of intimacy, particularly so in Persona 4, which had players help characters through the most personal of insecurities and fears. Learning to play Persona effectively is to learn how to maximize your time outside of the dungeon, to spend as much time as possible with the people. Traversing through the dungeons feels like the unimportant after-school activity that it is when your calendar is a mess of dates with lovers and friends.

The school setting is perfect for the genre. There would be 22 characters, one for each of the major Arcanas, each equipped with a captivating personal narrative for players to discover. The part about shadows and deities can still stay, since the franchise wouldn't make sense without that element. Really though, in trying to describe how this would work it just becomes obvious that the game is already built like a dating simulator.

All I ask is that in a more ‘romance-centered' Persona game, there be more options to destroy your friends when they get in the way of your dates.

And some, like Fallout, are getting made into them

I'm cheating, here. This game already exists—someone is working on it. Hailing from Tumblr, a place that is no stranger to the type of fan service that this game caters to, is the Fallout New Vegas dating sim.

So far it looks as if the pursuable characters include Butch DeLoria (the only Fallout 3 character), FISTO, Cass, Oliver Swanick, Veronica, Joshua Graham and Vulpes Inculta. Not the characters I'd think of first (I wanna date Moira, from Fallout 3!), but it's a rich and diverse cast.

Alexis—the 19 year old developer behind the title—is taking a lot of fun liberties with the characters she's borrowing from the franchise. This is evident from the hilarious character animations:

(Oh my god FISTO, what are those STAINS?)

To the writing:
(Click to enlarge for animation)

Also included: a tsundere character, Ouran references, Hellboy references, and a karma system. And yes—Butch DeLoria delivers his infamous ‘Tunnel Snakes Rule!' line.

The game's Tumblr states that the game will come out relatively soon. As proof of concept, it works wonderfully to prove that games you might not expect as dating sims could still work under that genre—with the right approach.

The list goes on. Metal Gear Solid could be a hell of a soap opera dating sim, complete with overwrought dialogue and labyrinth-like plotlines. Well, if confusing as heck plotline is what we're looking for, then perhaps Kingdom Hearts could be a better choice. God knows what's going in in THAT franchise, but it's dramatic enough that it would fit just fine. Saints Row could have players recreate a Romeo and Juliet-type romance, with rival gangs fighting to keep you and your lover apart. Really, there's a ton of games that could work as dating sims.

Granted, getting people to brave the stigma of playing the genre that is widely taken as the epitome of uncomfortable nerd wish fulfillment might be difficult. At the same time, many popular franchises—like Mass Effect and Persona—are good because of the near-dating sim elements they posses. I think we collectively like to pretend otherwise, though—thinking of some games as 'dating simulators' seems kind of shameful. It shouldn't.

We definitely don't need combat to make a game worthwhile; sometimes that's the least interesting aspect of a game.

And sometimes, it would just be funny to make a game that's not meant to be romantic, be romantic.

Late last year, artist Erling Løken Andersen thought it would be a nice idea to set up a website for his Fallout fan art. It was lovely art, coming in the form of posters based on those found on the walls in Fallout games, and in a nice touch, Andersen even uploaded incredibly high-resolution (and vector!) versions so people could print out their own copies.

Enter DLA Piper, a law firm representing publishers Bethesda, who own the rights to (most of) the Fallout universe. They sent a two-page letter threatening Andersen for having distributed the art, despite the fact he was not charging for it, and that Bethesda does not itself offer such images for sale.

So Andersen sent a very polite, very considered letter back, outlining his case and why DLA Piper's points of contention don't apply to a guy giving away art on the internet. You can read both letters at the link below. The lawyers are yet to respond.

I'm sure DLA Piper are just working off a brief, and this has nothing to do with Bethesda specifically targeting the guy, but still, when you hire a firm to conduct business in your name, it's your name that gets dragged into this kind of petty bullshit.

UPDATE - Those who had grabbed a poster or two before they were taken down say they weren't just close to being replicas of posters found in actual Fallout, they were essentially recreations.

Threatened with lawsuit by Bethesda; This was my reply [Erling Løken Andersen, via NeoGAF]

Music can be a distraction, an unnecessary layer of sound that pulls attention away from a game rather than enhancing it. Sometimes, there's nothing to do but turn the music off.

The first big-budget game that made me turn off the music was Fallout: New Vegas. I played for a handful of hours and found myself feeling smothered by the endless mournful strings and guitars that played as I wandered the wastes. Every time the music would stop, I'd hear the wind in my ears, the chirping of insects. The desolation around me felt palpable; it was a breath of fresh post-apocalypse.

And then, the music would start up again. Endless syrupy strings and mournful guitars.

So, I turned it off. I never play that game with the music on anymore (though I do still listen to the excellent in-game radio stations). In fact, when I go back to Fallout 3, I do the same thing.

I think it's something about open spaces, at least for me. I adore Bill Elm and Woody Jackson's music for Red Dead Redemption, but sometimes I just don't want to hear music in that game. I want to wander the prairie, me and my horse, and take in the fantastic sound design, which I've long thought to be some of the best of all time. The sound design is almost a musical score of its own; and while its interplay with the dynamic music in the game is organic and never feels crowded, sometimes it's cool to just listen to the audio on its own.

(Seriously, I recommend doing that. Even if you haven't played RDR in a while. Boot it up, turn off the music, and put on headphones. Go sit on the prairie, close your eyes, and listen. Notice every sound that comes and goes. It's really cool.)

Sometimes I'd turn off the music in Bioshock and Bioshock 2, as well. As amazing as the music in those games was, there were times where exploring Rapture while taking in the ear-bustingly incredible sound design was enough.

Is it a sin to turn off the music in a game? No. I remember a while back, boss-man Stephen Totilo wrote a thoughtful editorial about how he finally decided to turn off some games' music.

He, too, found himself turning off the music to Red Dead Redemption, though he was doing it to listen to podcasts while playing. I've met a lot of people who do their podcast-listening while playing Minecraft, and while I personally love the music and audio to that game, I can also understand turning it off and listening to other things.

Stephen also mentioned listening to podcasts while playing iPhone games, and there I agree with him as well. A while back, I played an obscene amount of Bookworm for the iPhone, but I found that in very little time, the music made me go a little bonkers. It took me far too long to realize that I could listen to whatever I wanted while I played, particularly as I was playing on a device that held my entire music collection! But rather than any albums I owned, I listened to podcasts.

In difficult action games, I'll find that the music makes it harder for me to focus; in fact, the audio in general can be overwhelming and distracting. When I get stuck on a particularly difficult boss in, say, God of War II or Bayonetta, I often find that the only way I can make it through is to take off my headphones or mute my speakers and play with no or very low audio. Suddenly, things feel far less complicated and I'm able to focus on the task at hand. It's sort of my last-ditch technique for getting past a frustrating boss.

I'm the last guy who would ever make some sort of sweeping generalization about video games not needing music. Music is an essential part of life just as it's an essential part of all of my favorite games. More than any other aspect, is the thing that ties me emotionally to video games in general.

But sometimes, I just need to play without it.

I'm guessing it's not just me, so I'm curious: What games inspire you to turn the music off?

For the next two days, the classic post-apocalyptic RPG Fallout will be a free download from GoG.com. Looks like it's time to explore the wastes again.

In over fifteen years working as an artist in the video game industry, Joseph Sanabria has been in the employ of companies like Obsidian, THQ and Rockstar.

For those developers, he's produced art for games such as Terminator 3 and, awesomely, the Neverhood series. Most recently, he served as art director for Fallout: New Vegas, which meant he was the man responsible for defining the artistic direction of not just the sequel, but its downloadable content as well.

In the gallery above you'll find a selection of his work over the years, both personal and professional, but you can see plenty more at Joseph's personal site.

The Fallout series is a wealth of side-splitting humor, or at least it was until recently. What's amazing is there are little treats like this exchange between a particularly dim-witted Vault Dweller and Vault 13's Overseer that are completely hidden from players until they decide to screw around with their stats.

I used to an incredibly stupid character in my old Dungeons & Dragons campaign: a Barbarian named Thog. Sometimes he referred to himself as Thog the Thog, because he couldn't come up with an appropriate adjective. In retrospect he probably didn't know any.

My interactions with my Dungeon Master (the father of the girl I was dating at the time) played out pretty much like this. To see this level of flexibility in a video game, especially one released nearly 15 years ago—it's inspirational.

Or it should have been.

Fallout 1 low intelligence character returns water chip. [YouTube via Reddit]

Last night, Obsidian's Chris Avellone tweeted an interesting detail about his roleplaying game Fallout: New Vegas.

"[Fallout: New Vegas] was a straight payment, no royalties," he said in response to a fan question about the game's financial success. "Only a bonus if we got an 85+ on Metacritic, which we didn't."

Metacritic, an aggregation website that collects scores from selected review sites and compiles them as a weighted average, currently lists the Xbox 360 version of Fallout: New Vegas at 84 (out of 100). The PC version is also listed at 84. The PlayStation 3 version of the game is listed at 82.

In other words, Obsidian may have missed its bonus and lost out on a significant amount of money because of a single point.

We've reached out to New Vegas publisher Bethesda, the company that financed the game, to try to confirm Avellone's statement, but they would not comment. If the New Vegas designer's tweet is accurate, then Bethesda put a portion of Obsidian's financial fate in the hands of a select group of game reviewers.

Finances have been an issue for Obsidian—earlier this week, the independent studio had to let go of 30 staff because a game it had been developing for the next Xbox was cancelled. So a potential Metacritic bonus may have been no small matter.

I understand the logic used by publishers like Bethesda when they dole out bonuses based on Metacritic numbers. As an aggregation of critic review scores, a Metacritic average can be an important benchmark for the perceived quality of a game. And it certainly makes sense that a boss would want to reward its employees based on the quality of their work.

Except Metacritic scores are not objective measures of quality. The Xbox 360 Metacritic page for Fallout: New Vegas consists of 81 reviews. If Obsidian's bonuses were determined by this aggregator, they were not based on the game's quality—they were based on 81 peoples' opinions of the game's quality.

Look through Metacritic's list of critic reviews. The list of selected websites is comprised of both professional and volunteer reviewers. Some write for the web. Others write for print. Some scores are weighted more heavily than others (Metacritic does not publicly discuss the formula it uses to create its averages). Some scores are even treated differently than others—a 7 at Game Informer does not mean the same thing as a 7 at Edge, for example.

Many of the reviews attacked the game for its bugs and glitches, many of which were fixed in subsequent patches and downloadable content packs. While reviewers may have been justified in marking down scores for the buggy product, those scores may not have been relevant after a month, or even after a week. Most review outlets don't change their scores once patches have been released. Is that something Bethesda took into consideration?

There is no such thing as an objectively good game. Nor is there such thing as an objectively bad game. We all secretly hate some games that are beloved by the rest of the world, and everyone has their favorite black sheep. I've strongly disliked some highly-rated games, like Dragon Age 2, and fallen deeply in love with some poorly-rated games, like Suikoden V. Should my personal opinion really be condensed into a mathematical formula and used to decide somebody else's bonus?

At Kotaku, we don't use review scores. Metacritic doesn't count our reviews. What if that made the difference? What if an outlet's choice of reviewer changed everything? What if a developer's bonus was determined by a single person's arbitrary distinction between a 7.8 and a 7.9? What if a game studio faced financial trouble after it missed its bonus by a single point?

This isn't healthy for anybody involved. It's not healthy for a reviewer to have to worry whether his criticism will directly affect peoples' jobs. It's not healthy for developers to focus on pleasing reviewers, rather than pleasing consumers. It's not healthy for individual opinions to impact bonuses and salaries.

Publishers need a better tool for measuring a game's quality. I don't know what that tool is. I don't know that it exists. But using Metacritic to hand out bonuses is dangerous—for developers, reviewers, and, quite frankly, you.

(Disclosure: While working at Wired.com, I gave Fallout: New Vegas a 9/10. My review appears on the game's Metacritic page.)