Games give so many conflicting messages to players. Most want hours and hours of your attentive dedication, then for you to return for DLC, and to never give up on the multiplayer (lest you trade it in). It can be a lot to ask, but many people are more than ready to sacrifice vast chunks of spare time. Which makes it all the more frustrating when a game says "Hey, don't you think you should take a break?" I'll tell you when I've had enough!

But there are a handful of titles that skip the simple guilt trip, and instead express concern over possible addiction by actually rewarding players for NOT playing. These games admirably promote shutting off or logging out from time to time, doling out some kind of tangible bonus for not playing them. If only other worrisome publishers got as proactive as these games...

Note: An earlier version of this article appeared on the site in 2014. This new-and-improved, updated remix near doubles the list of entries, so do give it a look even if you read the original. New stuff is up front, too.

Despite what the crackpot media might have you believe, not all video games are out to get us… just most of them. The rest make do by occupying only a large tract of our time, as opposed to every last drop of it - here's looking at you World of Warcraft and Destiny. Some games, it seems, would rather maintain a clear conscience, a basic responsibility to the health and wellbeing of the player. Sometimes they even express this in the form of an explicit 'go outside already' tip. 'Get some fresh air', they say, 'you're starting to smell'. Bless their swollen hearts.

Though some games go even further than that. Some games actively reward inaction, making not-playing an ironic element of their gameplay. Some games take the design philosophy of 'less is more' to its natural conclusion, interpreting 'less' as 'zero human interaction whatsoever'. Today's thoroughly big list takes a look at 15 such titles - those that effectively reward the player for his or her total inactivity. Sometimes taking your time (or just being flat-out lazy) has its rewards. Enjoy.

Reams and reams have already been written about the absurd fallacies that govern our games - those oddball behaviours and mad practices that seem so wonderfully at home inside of a virtual setting, and yet so massively inappropriate beyond it. Far Cry 4 evidently takes issue with these sorts of unthinking and unrealistic reactions. Case in point - the game's early doings, in which the villainous Pagan Min appears to kidnap protagonist Ajay and stuff him into an easily escaped room. Now, given the man's obvious penchant for violence, as well as his ominous promise to return, it's hardly surprising to find that most gamers quickly attempt to scarper.

But what if you don't run? What if instead of scurrying off to go native and/or ride around on massive murder elephants you simply decide to sit it out and wait? Does Min return, torture tools in hand and ready to rend flesh? Actually no. Instead we're treated to what is perhaps the most realistically dull conclusion of all time. You sit around for 15 minutes, Min duly returns and kindly escorts you to your original destination. Game over. That's it. I guess he's not such a terrible genocidal dictator after all… Just a weird uncle really. Very weird, mind, but still...

From the 'loving mother's school of devastating fight advice', it's Final Fantasy V and the Gogo boss monster - aka the one that you beat by doing nothing precisely nothing. Take that bullies - looks like I'm the bigger man now… on the floor, being kicked. Cheers Mum. You see the thing about Gogo is that he's actually a mimic, meaning that he'll only attack so long as you choose to attack him. Attempt to duke it out and he'll unleash wave after wave of unstoppable carnage, but opt instead to heed his sagely warning - 'to do as he does' - and Gogo will eventually relent, granting you a prize before scampering off elsewhere.

Good thing too, as trying to best old Gogo via conventional means, i.e. - the exact way that anyone would after 30-plus of furious fiend blasting - is considered to be a truly difficult feat. Gogo can annihilate the entire party in just three turns, and must realistically be defeated with the help of a high-level muting buff, lest this monstrous mime work up to his uber destructive meteor attack. The lesson here: Not every boss taunt ought to be ignored.

What better way to mask dark-hearted villainy than with a sweeping sense of whimsy? Disney has been at it for years now... In the case of Jonathon Blow's Braid this diabolical bent extends far beyond the terrible actions of Tim. You see, even the gameplay itself bears something of a sadistic streak. Case in point - level 2-2, or 'the curious case of the cloud that just wouldn't budge'. Well, to be fair, it does actually shift, though at such an imperceptible crawl as to trick most players into ruling it out as an effective means of locomotion. So why exactly would you want to ride such a slowpoke?

Well, as it turns out Blow and co. made it so that this granny-rapid gas ball provides the only means of reaching the game's most maliciously placed star. Now keep in mind that you don't actually need this item at all, though of course there's no accounting for the insatiable appetites of the completionist. All told, the player will need to wait 2 whole hours for this fluffy bugger to reach its destination. To be clear - that's 2 entire hours of your life… in exchange for a pickup that anyone, of any skill level could also achieve… Methinks I smell a trolling.

Everyone loves a dev team with a decent sense of humour, particularly when that team belongs to an oftentimes 'holier than thou' indie scene. "Ya, programming in a start button was just, like waaaay too mainstream". Praise be to the folks at Galactic Café then, whose winning sense of humour even found its way into The Stanley Parable's achievement section. An achievement section that features such noteworthy accolades as 'You can't Jump' - which rewards players for trying anyway, and 'Click on Door 430 Five Times', which err - well, you probably get that one.

Then there's 'Go Outside', an achievement that ensures that even avid gamers get their fair share of fresh air. To earn this trophy, gamers must stop playing the game for an entire 5-years. Play it, log off, and log back in a whopping 1826 days later. What could be simpler? Well, changing your computer's internal clock for one, but that's no fun now is it?

First things first: this particular section of Earthbound has you playing the role of a man named 'Poo'. A man. named. Poo… No, not a sentient slurry, nor a talking number two, but a man… named Poo… Just let that sink in to your mental u-bends for a minute. Giggles all gone? Good. Get everything out of your cistern… damnit, 'system'? Great, then let's continue. You see it seems that good old Poo is trying his damndest to master the art of Mu meditation. To do so he'll need to ignore a series of increasingly tempting visions while doing precisely nothing. Seems simple, though neither the player nor Poo can be quite sure that these tempters aren't actually real people in need.

This all continues until Poo enters a mysterious spirit world, wherein a strange spectre appears to torment him with various threats of mutilation. Hold your nerve and you'll complete your training unharmed. Intervene however, and it's all the way back to square one. Oddly enough, Earthbound actually features a second instance of similar inaction, whereby the player must stand motionless beside a waterfall for a full three minutes. Doing so will eventually unveil a gatekeeper asking the player for a password - or a swift slap to the face, depending on how many times you muck this one up.

Being the wholesome, family-friendly organisation that it is, many of Nintendo's games will occasionally prompt their players to set down their systems, unglue their eyes, and take a refreshing stroll out into the sun… probably to buy some more Amiibo. Because who told you you could stop buying Amiibo, huh? Get out there and buy some more goddamn Amiibo! But while many games will make an honest attempt to remind you of the world beyond your bedroom, few among them will actually ask you to close up shop as part of the game itself.

Then again, most games aren't part of the endlessly inventive Legend of Zelda series. In the case of the DS-exclusive Phantom Hourglass, this level of invention appears in the form of a classic key quest (with a twist). Said quest tasks Link with finding a way to affix a sacred crest to a seafaring chart. Sounds simple enough, and it is, provided you're able to think outside of the box - or handheld gaming device, as the case may be. Simply highlight both bits - one on each screen - before shuttering your DS and reopening. Tada! Both elements have now magically bonded, and all because you took a breather. Good luck trying that one with an emulator…

'Victory through inaction' is about as close to a catchphrase as the Spec Ops series is ever likely to get. Make no mistake about it, if you were one of those fortunate enough to miss out on the first nine titles, then you - sir or madam - truly were a winner. To say that these games were shoddy is an insult to true shoddiness. In truth, they were little more than uninspired dreck, the veritable bargain bin liners of a bygone day and age. Then of course came The Line, team Yager's incisive spin on/total indictment of the modern military shooter.

Here again, 'the only way to win was not to play'. However, unlike earlier games in the franchise, this decision had absolutely nothing to do with the title's supposed lack of polish - just the opposite, in fact. You see, protagonist Captain Walker's aim is if anything a little too effective, a factor that permits both he and the player to continue on with their mission long after losing all effective and justifiable impetus for doing so. In short, the further the player progresses, the more needless the devastation unleashed. All with the game goading and openly mocking your bloodlust every step of the way. Well done, winner. You're a monster. You really should have stopped playing.

Long before the Battlefield series spread to consoles, it had one of the most dedicated communities on PC. The fans were reliving World War 2 over and over again in team deathmatch, with a passion that I'm sure the developers had hoped to inspire. But when EA and DICE released a futuristic sequel, Battlefield 2142, they handed out special points multipliers for every 24 hours the passionate fans didn't play the game.

Of course, the official messaging on the feature focused more on assisting those that simply couldn't play the game as much as their competition. If jobs, or pets, or heart surgery distracted you from logging into Battlefield 2142, you would accrue an hour of Away bonus for every 24 hour period you weren't in the game, doubling the Career Points you'd earn in battle. Given that 2142 is the underplayed black sheep in the BF series, it seems like a lot of Away bonuses were earned by players before the servers were officially shut down on June 30, 2014.

thatgamecompany is one of the more avant garde developers around, creating games that are as much about atmosphere as gameplay. As such, thatgamecompany wants players to soak in the artistic vibe of Flower and Journey at a slower pace, even encouraging them to step away from the game for seven days before resuming the adventure. This 'more casual' playstyle is incentivized via the most hardcore of the PS3's in-game tools, the Trophy.

Flower's Welcome Back and Journey's corresponding Return are Bronze Trophies handed out for quitting the games for at least a week and then resuming your campaign. Those extra days away might give you enough time to truly deconstruct the themes and techniques of these thought-provoking games, putting those lessons to work in your own life. Or, if you're like most Trophy fanatics, you briefly pushed the system's internal clock forward by a week and immediately collected the Bronze, foregoing any transcendence. If only all epiphanies were this easy.

Bravely Default is Square Enix's return to form for the JRPG genre. Tropes like amnesiac teens, HP/MP, and world-powering crystals are all in full effect for the lovely throwback, but it also has some gameplay tricks that couldn't be done in 1992. For example, the new SP metric allows you to take extra actions during combat, which can turn the tide in a difficult battle. And you earn SP for having a good night's rest (kind of).

SP stands for Sleep Points, which are collected for every eight hours that your game is in Sleep Mode when the 3DS is closed with the game on. That's enough time to get the doctor-recommended amount of rest or finish a full day's work at the office, all leaving you and your characters refreshed for when you return to Bravely. The only thing undercutting these good intentions is the fact you can also buy SP via microtransactions. Paying for an SP Drink replenishes Sleep Points without the wait. If only we could spend money to avoid sleeping in real life. Or is that what caffeine is for?

Every now and then you'll see a sensationalist news headline about some poor soul that played an MMO until they died of exhaustion. Those tragedies, along with a general portrayal of kids wasting years of their lives on virtual avatars, feed a fear that people harm themselves by playing a game like World of Warcraft. No doubt with those fears in mind, Blizzard (ever the canny developer) implemented Rested XP as a way to make logging off beneficial for its diehard audience.

After heading to an inn and leaving the servers, every eight hours a day spent away nets you a Rested XP bubble. You can stockpile these for up to 10 days. When you return, each bubble grants double XP for kills until the bubbles all dissipate (aka your dwarf is no longer rested). That means players who only log in once a week have a chance of closing the gap with their more hardcore friends. So, when you're thinking of pulling an all-nighter to off 30 rats, you might be better off napping and then killing 15 in the morning for the same XP. Then again, if you're that hardcore, you likely hit the level cap a long time ago.

Nintendo games are notorious for continually hitting players with warnings about playing too much, with most games featuring at least one character that shows up to lecture you about taking a break. Pokemon has been known to engage in the same finger wagging as well, but the DS remakes of Gold and Silver didn't just tell kids to switch off their handhelds. The duo of games push Pokemaniacs to get their lazy butts into shape alongside their Pokemon.

The Gold/Silver remakes come packed with the virtual pet-style Pokewalker. The circular, simple electronic device is shaped like a Pokeball, and you use it to temporarily take individual Pokemon out on a walk to collect experience and mildly uncommon items. It’s a cute way to get slightly active via pocket monsters, but you can only gain a single level per trip, meaning it’s less time consuming to remain immobile and grind out XP in-game. Laziness wins again!

Peter Molyneux is just the type of mad genius to conjure up a virtual real estate market within one of his fantasy worlds. Fable 2 did a much better job than its predecessor with paying off Molyneux’s lofty design dreams, and it includes a world so dense that you can buy property and collect rent from it while not even playing. You can step away from the game and know you’ll have some cash waiting for you when you come back.

The rent payments go into your coffers every five minutes you aren’t playing Fable 2, and it can stack up for up to two months' worth of gold. Of course, this it vulnerable to the offline exploit of simply turning the system clock forward two months to collect the cash immediately. This is why we can’t have nice things. I’m assuming Peter Molyneux agrees, because the cash-for-not-playing aspect is missing from Fable 3’s real estate.

Despite Nintendo’s many series that whine to players to put down the game occasionally, Fire Emblem once seemed too hardcore to tell you to walk away. In fact, most FE entries were more likely to drop you into a grueling, 45 minute battle, allow no saving during the permadeath conflict, then say, “Deal with it, loser.” When 3DS’s FE: Awakening rolled around, it softened some of its edges, including doling out rewards for stepping off the battlefield every now and then.

Like most strategy RPGs, you can spend time leveling up your Awakening squad of knights and dragons in random battles that pop up on the map. But if you overdo it and kill off the few superfluous baddies dotting the map, they’ll respawn as weaker and weaker pipsqueaks. Conversely, if you step away for a few hours, the map will be repopulated with dramatically more powerful opponents that drop better items and cash. Nice bonus and it also spreads an important message about the dangers of factory farming. Or am just reaching with that?

Hideo Kojima uses every tool at his disposal when making Metal Gear Solid games, and that includes messing with the in-game clock in ways most players will never notice. Of all his games, Metal Gear Solid 3 might be the best at finding unpredictable ways to grant players advantages for turning off the game. For instance, if Snake has taken too much damage, just take a long break from the campaign and his health and stamina return to normal. Though, all his food turns bad in the time you waited for Snake heal.

But the rewards for ignoring MGS3 go much deeper than that. The End is one of the toughest bosses you may ever face in any game, mainly because the wily sniper is hard to find and even harder to kill. If he’s too tough for you, Kojima gives you an out: just leave things alone for a week. When you return seven days later, the decrepit The End will have died from old age. In a way, it’s actually more humane to let him expire from natural causes.

Now that I’ve reached the end of this feature, are you sure you don’t need a break? It’s just that you look tired. If not, share your own favorite memories of when you didn’t play a game right down there in the comments!

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The internet got hit with a heavy dose of Final Fantasy fever coming out of E3 2015. Against all odds, Square Enix finally announced a Final Fantasy 7 remake. And it's not just going to be a one-to-one remake. Speaking to - and not changed - in this new Final Fantasy 7, but we're not stopping there.

Let's not forget that the Square half of Square Enix still has an extensive back catalog of fantastic games that are just as worthy of the remake treatment as Final Fantasy 7. Some of them were great ideas that just weren't properly executed at the time, while others are timeless gems that have proven themselves worthy of another go-around. Which one gets your vote? Which game from Square's collection would you like to see get a modern-day makeover? Let us know in the comments below, and read on to see our picks.

What's striking about Bushido Blade are the things you don't see. Here's a 3D fighting game without a health bar, timer, energy meter, or brightly-colored combo counter cluttering up the action. Instead, all you have are two fighters slowly, cautiously circling one another, each awaiting their chance to deliver the killing blow. There are no double-digit combos here. One clean hit is all it takes to win a fight. When you hear people talk about Bushido Blade, one word always comes up: tension. It's one big game of chicken with razor-sharp swords.

Sadly, Bushido Blade never lived up to its full potential. Instead, it spawned the Kengo: Master of Bushido series, which ended up playing like an awkward and stilted Soulcalibur (complete with all those meters and mechanics the original omitted). A modern Bushido Blade could correct the series’ stiltedness while remaining true to the minimalist design that makes it so unique. If you've been even a little bit interested in the player-versus-player combat of the Souls series, then you're ready for a new Bushido Blade.

At first glance, Brave Fencer Musashi looks like a low-rent Legend of Zelda clone, and OK, yeah, in some ways it kind of is. Combat's a little clumsy, and its 3D graphics are blocky and primitive, even compared to other PlayStation games at the time. Luckily, that's the kind of stuff that can get fixed in a remake, because Brave Fencer Musashi's world is filled with interesting secrets, loads of charm, and far too many food puns - and it deserves another chance.

Japan's greatest swordsman has been transported to an alternate dimension by Princess Fillet of the Allucaneet Kingdom in order to put an end to the Thirstquencher Empire's reign of terror (I told you there were food puns). Rescuing its citizens opens up new shops in the city, and finding hidden items to access new areas to save more people quickly turns into a completionist's paradise. You can even purchase action figures and either take them out of the packaging to play with them, or keep them mint to sell back later at a markup. There's a day/night cycle, a ton of abilities, and inventive puzzles - all the pieces are already there for this cult classic to become a modern hit.

The Bouncer is a 3D brawler. Think Streets of Rage, but in 3D and with floppier hair. When it was released near PS2's launch, it was graphically exceptional, with in-game graphics that were almost as good as the standard of pre-rendered cut-scenes at the time (unsurprising as that's been a common theme for Square-Enix's output ever since). But that was likely where most of the development time went, as it was too short and the fighting too simplistic to become a true classic.

It did, however, have a certain something. And the roster of playable characters and gradual unlocking of story scenes made for plenty of replay value. If that were expanded now, and the graphics given the same attention to detail using the might of PS4, The Bouncer 2 could be a modern classic. We haven't had a decent brawler like this in ages, and it's about time we did.

I defy you to name a better game involving opera houses, spontaneous combustion, and grenade launchers. This gem of an action RPG is so unlike Square's usual fare: it's set in modern-day Manhattan, revolves around themes of mutation and body horror, features quasi-real-time combat that prioritizes guns, and earns an M rating. But it also exhibits many of Square's greatest strengths, with gorgeous cinematics (which, for my money, still hold up), a stellar lead in the form of tenacious NYPD officer Aya Brea, and an engrossing narrative (albeit one of sci-fi rather than fantasy).

The original Parasite Eve could go a long way with some spruced-up visuals and full voice-acting, and you can be sure that those cutscenes of grotesque rat transformations would look even more horrifying in HD. But for the love of all that is holy, Square Enix, add the ability to skip cinematics you've already seen. Without spoiling anything, I had to watch the extremely creepy (and lengthy) cutscene before the final boss probably 18 times, because that fight is damn difficult. Oh, and it might be worth unlocking the roguelike-esque Chrysler Building challenge tower right from the get-go.

Final Fantasy 8 is a hot mess, and I say that with all the love in the world. The follow-up to one of Square's most gargantuan commercial successes, Square took the risky step of making it wildly different from the game that came before, and some really interesting ideas surfaced as a result. Sadly, surface is all some of them ever did, and trying to balance too many left FF8 a clutter of half-realized thoughts that swings at greatness and just misses the mark. It would take a complete rebuild to help FF8 reach its potential, but it needs to happen.

As opposed to a port or remaster that would bring along all the unfortunate plot problems of the original, a full remake could focus on making FF8's most pivotal elements work effectively. They could beef up the fascinating sorceress lore, focus on how growing up in a post-war society has affected the main characters, strengthen the Laguna segments to make them a fuller part of the game, and finally, finally develop the main romance into something that approaches believability. Square-Enix would have to completely tear it apart, but it'd be worth it, because then FF8 could finally become the game it was meant to be.

"Hey, didn't Square Enix just remake Final Fantasy X and X-2?"

Thank you for asking, disembodied voice. But no, Square Enix did not remake FFX/X-2 for PlayStation 3 and PlayStation 4, it merely remastered them with upscaled textures and slightly better looking models. The game's voice acting remained as simultaneously charming and weird as before - sidenote: AH HA HA HA HA - and overall the experience was roughly 95 percent identical to what players experienced in 2001 (and 2003 for the sequel).

What we're talking about wanting for Final Fantasy X/X-2 is a full-blown remake. That means an entirely new graphics engine, new voice acting, new everything. Tidus and friends are some of the series' most fondly-remembered ragtag group of heroes ever assembled, and for good reason. They're distinct, memorable, have interesting relationships with one another, and they live in a unique, post-apocalyptic-but-still-futuristic setting. It's true that the HD remasters looked good, and we appreciate the work that went into them. But imagine Yuna summoning Ifrit, Shiva, Bahamut or any other number of strange creatures with today's graphical capabilities at the developer's fingertips. Plus glorious, glorious Blitzball.

So there are our picks for the Square games most deserving of a FF7-esque remake. However, I just can't shake the feeling that we forgot something. It's almost like there's a game out there everyone loves that seems like an obvious pick that just somehow didn't make it on this list. Oh well. Let us know which game gets your vote, either from the list or from your heart. State your case in the comments below. Hey, if a FF7 remake can happen, anything is possible.