SpyParty's emphasis on empathy and composure likewise facilitates a refreshingly mature community spirit, one which stresses mentoring, analysis, self-awareness and civility over locker room shit talk and bloody knuckled woodshedding. So while some might bounce off a competitive multiplayer video game simply for expecting you to complete a tutorial, the more or less level playing field SpyParty offers new players is, to my mind, worth the preceptial front-loading-personally it's a blessing to be evenly matched playing friends who would normally have me in a toe hold within the first thirty seconds. It's not that the game doesn't allow for cheeky maneuvers, it just takes a little commitment to fathom what's being asked of you, to mentally corral the various checks and balances, to appreciate the calligraphy on the cordial invitation, even if you, irredeemable slob that you are, feel you must decline. They might think that it's nothing but character selection shenanigans, or the sniper, say, forgets that they win if the spy doesn't complete missions. Newbies sometimes have a hard time acclimating to this seriousness. While titles like Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood or The Ship ventured into the waters of hiding in plain sight via NPC pantomime, SpyParty's explicit separation of the two roles (plus the way it condenses the stage and roster of suspects) opens up a shocking amount of room for deep, granular, highly skilled play. The crux of SpyParty's distinction, its fundamental contrivance, is the unambiguous asymmetry of the actor/spectator dynamic.