#oneaday Day 610: Gears of Bore (No-One’s Ever Made That Joke Before)

I suppose with the world gripped by Gears frenzy I should probably explain why I’m not a fan of the series.

I have nothing in particular against shooters. I have nothing in particular against space marines, either — I have a copy of Space Crusade sitting proudly on my shelf as proof. But something about the first Gears of War really rubbed me up the wrong way after the “my GOD these graphics are nice even on a standard-def TV” shock wore off. I played it for a while and got a reasonable way into it before realising that I wasn’t really having any fun. The series’ oppressive brownness was getting to me, and what few attempts at humour there were in there just came off as silly action-movie posturing — I guess that’s kind of the point, but still.

Consequently, Gears of War 2 and now Gears of War 3 hold little to no interest to me. The first game didn’t make me want to get to know these characters any more, so why should I spend any more time in their universe? It wasn’t just due to the risible dialogue, of course — the infuriating bullet-sponge nature of most of the regular enemies in the game put me off somewhat, too, along with numerous sequences in which snipers could insta-kill you if you didn’t work out where the best cover spot was. Constant repetition of a short sequence in shooters is something of a bugbear for me, and Gears hit me right in the fury spot with one particular section.

Alongside all that, I’m not a huge fan of competitive multiplayer games (largely because I’m typcially crap at them) and it all adds up to a package that I’m not interested in in the slightest. I don’t begrudge people their excitement for the new game, but it seems that the days in which every triple-A title was an essential purchase for everyone are long gone — at least so far as I’m concerned, anyway.

I’m not sure exactly when this happened. I know it was definitely this generation, as I vividly recall throughout the PS1 and PS2 eras picking up the “essential purchase” titles almost as soon as they were released. Perhaps now there are simply too many high-profile, high-quality games being released to make this practical, perhaps I’m no longer interested in the “blockbuster” genre, or perhaps I’m increasingly disillusioned with ever-more underhanded tactics to get players to part with even more of their money beyond purchasing the game itself.

Whatever the reasons, as I say, I certainly don’t begrudge the Gears fans their upcoming fun-fest, but I’m more than happy with what I’m playing right now: Xenoblade Chronicles (awesome), Minecraft 1.8 (buggy but awesome), TrackMania 2 Canyon (aweso– you get the idea) and Wing Commander III (surprisingly still great). The fact that I’d rather play a Wii game, an indie game, a niche racing game and a space sim from 1994 is perhaps a sad indictment on the mainstream gaming industry, however.

Ah well. Horses for courses and other such clichés. If you’re playing Gears this weekend, have a blast. I will not be joining you!

#oneaday Day 609: Five a Day

“Healthy eating” is often misinterpreted by many (including myself) to mean “eating things that taste like pieces of wood that you found on the forest floor”. And yet it doesn’t have to be that way, it seems. Sweet treats are all very well and good, but firstly, they get pretty dull after a while (once you’ve had one chocolate bar, there are very few variations on the theme besides what the crunchy bits are made out of/taste of) and secondly, of course, they’ll turn you into the sort of person who requires a crane to get them out of your house.

This is an exaggeration, of course. Unless you eat, like, nothing but chocolate bars all the time, in which case heart disease will probably take you long before any cranes have to be involved.

But anyway. Since starting my EA Sports Active 2 workouts (which I’m still keeping up with, FYI) I’ve been looking a little more carefully at the things I eat each day — largely because of the nagging woman who gently reminds you that you should be eating [x] number of fruit and veg portions per day, and [y] number of glasses of water. As a result of a little investigation and exploration, I’m doing quite well on [x] though [y] often still eludes me, because water is pretty boring.

It seems there’s quite a wide variety of things that actually taste reasonably nice while actually being healthy, too, particularly on the fruity side of things. There’s a snacky thing called “Fruit Flakes”, for example, which is basically a little bag of fruity sweets, only they’re actually made of fruit instead of E-numbers and enough sugar to send a hyperactive five year old to the moon without the aid of a rocket. Today, too, I tried some things called “YoYos” from a company called “Bear” — they’re basically fruit rollups, but all-natural and, bizarrely, made using sweet potato as well as the fruits in question. They don’t look quite as appealing as more sugary variations on the fruit rollup theme — they have the look and texture of fruit jerky — but they taste all right, and apparently each one is one of your Five a Day. I’ve had two today. Check me out.

Crisps are a thing that the reformed glutton often misses, as crisps are tasty. While they’re not quite the same thing, I’ve found Snack-a-Jacks to be a perfectly acceptable substitute. Some people aren’t a fan of rice cakes, believing them to actually be pieces of packing polystyrene rebranded as a lightweight snack, but the addition of a little flavour to the mix with Snack-a-Jacks makes them more than acceptable — and without having to cover them in cheese, jam and any combination thereof, either.

One thing that does irritate me a little about healthy eating, however, is advertising. I’m thinking particularly of the Special K adverts here. Now, as a breakfast cereal, I quite like Special K. It’s moderately tasty, supposedly good for you and doesn’t taste like lumps of chipboard. There’s also about a bajillion different varieties of it nowadays — some with fruit, some with other variations. It should be a cereal for which everyone can find an acceptable variation.

So why, then, is it marketed exclusively towards women? That’s not an exaggeration, either — there hasn’t been a man in a Special K advert for as long as I can remember, and it’s almost constantly marketed as the cereal that will make you look good in a one-piece swimsuit/figure-hugging red dress. I don’t particularly want to wear either of those things, and I have far too much penis to ever be called a woman, but I like Special K. Now, to be perfectly honest, I have absolutely no shame whatsoever in walking into a shop and purchasing a box of Special K, much as I would have absolutely no shame whatsoever in walking into a shop and purchasing sanitary towels for a female friend who needed them. But the fact I even have to make that comparison is at least a little objectionable — is the assumption that men are only interested in eating some sort of protein-packed Meat Flakes for breakfast and sprinkling them with bacon, while the women virtuously crunch on their Special K?

Who knows? Regardless, the main thrust of this self-indulgent ramble is that EA Sports Active 2 has, among other things, succeeded in getting me to be a bit more conscious of what I put in my mouth. This is, I believe, a good thing — and another check mark in favour of a fitness and health programme that I’m having increasing amounts of respect towards. We’ll see how I feel in 9 weeks time when the programme I’m following is supposedly set to finish!

#oneaday Day 608: Pain Killer

Aimee Lee had been wracked with inexplicable pains for several days now. She couldn’t explain them, nor did she feel that she could bother the doctors with them. She couldn’t talk to her friends about them, because she didn’t have any friends. But every night, it seemed, the pain got worse, and always, after she did manage to succumb to sleep, she woke the next morning feeling as if she has been beaten, battered and abused.

But there’s no-one there. No-one has beaten her, no-one has taken advantage of her, no-one has violated her. She’s all alone. She has been ever since the day when she decided enough was enough, and called the police on her abusive boyfriend, who took him away, never to be seen again.

“Bitch!” he’d called after her as he was forcibly removed from the premises, her trembling figure cowering in the corner as a female police officer spoke to her in a calm, low voice, assuring her that everything was going to be all right now. “Whore! You’ll suffer! You’ll suffer!”

She’d come to this town of her own volition, given up her life for the man she thought she loved, and for a while all was well. But then his fury started. Every day she’d dread the turning of the key in the lock, for it would mean that he would be back again, and the beatings would start. She’d often be in tears even before he arrived in the house, but that would only fuel his aggression. There was no explanation for it, and on the few occasions where he did prove to be lucid, he had no justification for it, either.

But she missed him. There had been love there, once, and amidst all the abuse and horrors, she knew that he was surely still the man she had fallen for and given everything up for. After a while, she even found herself longing to hear his voice in any form — even if it was yelling at her, a prelude to another beating.

It was in this admission that the shadow found its way into her soul. A fleeting thought, that was all it took for it to take hold. And then the pain started — a dull ache in her limbs at first, but gradually growing in intensity night by night. By now, by the time she eventually passed out from the pain — she couldn’t call it “falling asleep” — her body was wracked with the agony of a thousand burning needles searing her flesh, though her skin bore no scars.

The girl knew the signs as soon as she became aware of Aimee. She had come across this kind of horror before, and she knew all too well that if it were not dealt with quickly, Aimee’s mind and body would tear themselves apart, whether the agony were real or imagined.

So it was that she stepped into Aimee’s mind, flickering energy running up her arm letting her know that the blade with which she had already dispatched so many similar terrors hungered for the blood of the dark one responsible for this particular mess.

The room she found herself in was dark, its walls made of stone, and dull lights sitting in sconces high on the walls.

How cliché, she thought. A dungeon. Perhaps this’ll be simpler than I thought.

A moan from somewhere in the darkness led her to the prone figure of Aimee, lying on the floor, clad in a white dress that was already stained crimson with blood.

“Please!” cried Aimee, her voice quavering with tears. Invisible lashes cause her body to jolt with pain, fresh wounds opening with each hit. “Please!”

The girl stood watching this horrific sight, her jaw set. She wouldn’t have called herself “embittered” or “cynical” but she had been doing this for some time now, and she knew that to become emotionally invested in the situation was to show weakness to the shadow.

“Show yourself,” she muttered, clearing her throat then uttering it again. “Show yourself!”

Aimee’s writhing stopped as the invisible lashes ceased to batter her body. The darkness seemed to shift around her, taking form, becoming a recognisable shape.

“Uh-huh,” said the girl. “Let me guess. Couldn’t get no satisfaction, so decided to take to beating on this poor girl to get your ya-yas.”

The male figure before her snarled, black smoke billowing from his head as he did so. There was to be no parley, it seemed, as it lurched straight at the girl — but she was ready for him, deftly stepping aside and flourishing her arm as she had done so many times, the blade flashing and appearing ready in her hand as she summoned it.

The shadowy, smoky figure lunged at her again, tackling her and slamming her against a wall. Aimee screamed as she watched — she knew his violence all too well, both in reality and here in her own mind, and was terrified to see it inflicted on another. She sobbed, taking big gulps of air as she hoped the girl could escape his terrible clutches.

She did. Kicking away the shadowy figure and slashing at him with the curious blade she held in her right hand, the girl moved with the agility and speed of a cat. She wasn’t going to be caught out again. By the time the smoky figure crudely lurched at her again, she was already elsewhere, slashing at his body with her sword, but even a direct hit caused only black smoke to spew from the wound, not blood.

“Hey!” said the girl, addressing the terrified Aimee for the first time. “What do you want? This isn’t going to work if you don’t know.”

Aimee didn’t know what she meant. She watched the unfolding scene with tears blurring her vision, unable to stand, the pain from her wounds stinging her body and leaving her immobile.

“Come on!” said the girl. “I can’t help you if you don’t help me. I need you to know, Aimee. I need you to say it.”

Aimee gulped, swallowed some air, hiccuped and sobbed again. What did this strange girl mean? And who was she? Aimee had never seen her before in her life, but somehow the girl knew her — or at least her name.

The shadowy figure’s blow found its target, and the girl was sent clattering across the ground, winded, blade still clutched firmly in her right hand. It turned back to Aimee, menace in its glowing red eyes. It began to advance — far more threatening now it has a visible form than when it lashed her body with invisible strokes.

Aimee screamed. This isn’t what she wanted. She wanted things to be back how they once were — back when she was in love, back before he was engulfed with this inexplicable rage. She wanted —

“I want,” said Aimee uneasily, staring in fright at the advancing figure. “I want — I want the pain to stop!”

The girl leapt to her feet.

“That’s it,” she said. “You never wanted this abuse. You never wanted this pain. Once you thought you might, and that’s how you let this thing in. But now you know that way lies only suffering. So I’m here to help with that.”

She plunged the blade deep into the back of the shadowy, smoky figure, which let out an ear-splitting howl before whirling around in an attempt to strike back at its assailant.

“Come on!” cried the girl. “Torture’s such an easy, boring way to inflict pain. Take me instead! I’ll give you a fight.”

She struck again, slicing at its face this time. The blade found its target, and this time instead of smoke, black ichor spewed forth. The girl hopped backwards to avoid the spray.

“Made that mistake before,” she said, more to herself than the horrified Aimee. “That shit never comes out.”

Aimee watched in astonishment. Tears still stung her eyes and blurred her vision, but the sheer oddness of the scene before her almost made her forget the pain that had brought her to her knees in the first place.

The girl plunged the blade deep into the shadowy figure’s torso now, and it let out a howl even worse than the first one. It seemed to shake the very foundations of the room they were in. Its foul black blood sprayed again as the girl twisted the blade, no trace of anger on her face, to all intents and purposes looking as if she was simply screwing a piece of furniture together rather than doing untold damage to the innards of some monstrous creature.

Finally, the figure let out one last roar and exploded in a cloud of black smoke, a torrent of the black ichor suddenly falling to the floor and splattering across it, leaving a stain. There was a silence for a moment, then the blade simply seemed to disappear from the girl’s hand.

“Thank you,” said Aimee, though she still wasn’t quite sure what had just happened.

“You’re welcome,” said the girl, who promptly vanished.

Aimee gasped and opened her eyes. She saw the familiar sight of her bedroom ceiling above her and was momentarily disoriented. What had just happened?

She had no answer to that question, but she knew one thing — the pain had stopped, just like she wanted.

But who was that girl?

#oneaday Day 607: Musical Memories

In the last couple of places I lived, I didn’t have my CDs out, largely due to space issues. They sat quietly in boxes in cupboards waiting to be set free once again. Occasionally I had a sudden urge to rip some to my computer, then once I started the process I realised it took quite a long time, so often gave up rather quickly.

In my new place, though, I’ve got all my CDs out again. There’s some among the collection that I’m not sure I’ll ever listen to again, but it’s nice to revisit some albums that I’ve had for many, many years now — particularly those which I got back when I was at school, as these are often the ones that have the strongest memories attached to them.

They’re not even specific memories as such — simply memories of a time and a place, not any particularly special events. But I can remember when I got many of these albums and why — in some cases it was a simple matter of buying something that was popular at the time (and in some cases struggling to understand why it was so popular — see: The Verve, Urban Hymns, one of the most tedious albums I’ve ever listened to), others it was a case of thinking the lead singer was hot, others still it was songs I’d listened to on the radio so many times I was curious to hear what other stuff the artist had come out with and others still beyond that simply just because I was curious.

I wouldn’t say that as far as popular music goes I’m particularly “well-read” or whatever the popular music equivalent is. But my CD collection demonstrates an interesting cross-section of mid to late 90s music coupled with a few bits and pieces from the early 21st century — though around this point is when iTunes started to take over, leading to a decline in the number of physical products on the shelf.

In some ways, I can see the point that those people who prefer to still buy CDs have. The digitalisation of music has given it a more “disposable” quality, leading to people putting it on just so they have some noise in the background, not necessarily to appreciate what it is. Putting on a CD, though, kind of implies that you’re going to invest some time into listening to the whole thing — even if you’re doing something else at the time. This is because, as everyone knows, changing CDs is a massive faff to the lazy person of the 21st century, who wants everything at their fingertips and, preferably, controlled by their mobile phone.

If you’ve still got a CD collection, though, it’s worth taking a moment to dig it out and investigate the treasures it holds within. Sure, there may be some embarrassing things in there, but even those had a part to play in your past. Take a moment, dig out a random pick from your collection, sit down and listen to it. All of it. You might just be surprised at the complexity and thinking that goes into a complete album — or, then again, you might just find yourself wondering why on Earth you own two Spice Girls albums.

#oneaday Day 606: While You Sleep, They’ll Be Waiting . . .

I started up Wing Commander III tonight in celebration of its recent rerelease on Good Old Games and in protest against all the Gears of War 3 excitement that’s slowly building up. (I hate Gears.) And by golly, I miss that series something rotten. (Wing Commander, not Gears of War.)

I remember first playing the original Wing Commander and being gobsmacked by its then-revolutionary cutscenes and effort in telling a story. In fact — and this was always a big taboo in the early days of PC gaming — Wing Commander‘s dedication to spinning a compelling, if cheesy, space opera yarn made me consistently enjoy it far more than the X-Wing series.

Wing Commander III was something special, though. One of the first games to boast a multi-million dollar budget. An early outing for Mark Hamill, now a mainstay of the games industry. Full-motion video in a glorious 256 colours coming out of its ears. And, bizarrely, a porn star cast as the ship’s mechanic.

It’s difficult to pin down exactly what it is that’s so appealing about the Wing Commander series — III and IV in particular — but I have a feeling it’s the good balance between plot and spacefaring action. Missions are short enough that you can get through a bunch in a single sitting, but they don’t feel like “throwaway” efforts — there’s always something to do, even if it’s just a patrol. But it’s the fact that you’re rewarded for completing them with advances in the plot — or sometimes just getting to know the characters a bit better — that made the game fun for me. Despite the fact it’s essentially Top Gun in space, with all the cheesiness that implies, Wing Commander‘s cast is memorable, even years later. I can still recall Malcolm McDowell’s star turn as the deliciously sinister Admiral Tolwyn years later, and it’s always nice to see John Rhys-Davies. Hamill, too, puts in a good performance — at the time, the game invited references to Star Wars thanks to Hamill in the leading role, but if Wing Commander III showed one thing, it’s that Hamill had grown up, got better hair and was no longer Luke Skywalker.

I’d almost go as far to say that I have fonder memories of the Wing Commander series than I do of the Star Wars saga. I mean, sure, I respect Episodes IV, V and VI and the culture they created, but despite the username by which I typically go online, I’m in no real rush to watch them again — neither am I in any hurry to go pick up the Blu-Ray box set which released recently. Wing Commander III rereleased on Good Old Games, though, for $5.99? I was straight in there. (This may have something to do with the fact that the Star Wars Blu-Ray set costs nearly 70 quid, while Wing Commander III offers an equivalent, if not greater, amount of entertainment for less than a tenth of the price.)

Nostalgia, as they say, isn’t what it used to be. But sometimes you revisit something from the past and find it’s just as awesome as you remember. So far, Wing Commander III, in all its grainy-video glory, has fallen squarely into that category. While modern takes on the space sim genre (what few examples there are left) often offer pleasingly deep and freeform experiences, there really is something to be said for the structured, narrative-heavy approach that Wing Commander offered.

And if you’ve never tried the series for yourself? For $5.99, you can surely afford to check it out.

#oneaday Day 605: Finish What You… You Know

Certain projects are easy to finish. Start building an Ikea bookcase and chances are you’ll finish it within an hour or two. Sure, there may be some swearing, splinters, cuts and/or bruises along the way, but at least you’ll get it done, and when you’re finished, you’ll end up with a (hopefully) stable bookcase, and possibly one or two leftover screws that you really think should go somewhere.

Creative projects are a little different. It’s easy enough to start them, but it’s finishing them that is the tricky bit. The challenging part is that, unlike our friend Billy the bookcase, creative projects don’t necessarily have an obvious “end” in sight. Sure, you might have some sort of amorphous final goal in mind (“write a novel”, “record an album”, “paint a picture”) but the exact steps along the way that will lead you to that final conclusion are sometimes obscured by your own ambition.

I’ve come a cropper on this a few times. I’ve had a story in my head since I was about 15 years old. I’ve started trying to write it at least 5 or 6 times across several different media — traditional writing (from various perspectives), blog-based writing, as a video game, as a visual novel — and somehow, despite the fact I’m in love with my characters and I want to tell this story — somehow it never quite gets there.

It’s not a matter of motivation — I do want this story to get out of my head and onto some form of “paper” (be it literal or metaphorical) but — thinking about it right now, I’m struggling to come up with valid excuses that aren’t simple procrastination. Perhaps it’s the fact that I write for a living every day and do this blog. Perhaps it’s the fact I have other interests besides writing preventing me from being completely committed to the project. Perhaps I have doubts that I can really bring the story — the opening of which I am intimately familiar with now I’ve composed it so many times across so many different forms of media — to a satisfactory conclusion.

I’m not sure what it is. Last time I started on it, I got into a good rhythm and started writing at a good rate. Then various life events got in the way and for one reason or another, I got out of the habit of writing it.

Perhaps I should take a more structured approach to it — set aside a specific time on certain days to do some writing. Although schedules are inherently limiting and repetitive, they can be great for self-discipline. Take a couple of years back when I got into a good habit of going to the gym and/or the swimming pool after work every day. Sure, it was on the way home, but I specifically “scheduled” my time so that I got into those good habits. It’s working for me again with the EA Sports Active stuff at the moment, which sets up a schedule for you day-wise, but leaves timing up to you. I’m structuring my day so that I can get up, have some breakfast, bum around for an hour or so, do my workout and then be ready in time to start actual proper work.

Perhaps I should take this approach — set a schedule, get some self-discipline going. Perhaps then one day this story might get finished. And then everyone can enjoy it.

Or possibly hate it. I don’t know. Only one way to find out, though.

#oneaday Day 604: TrackMania 2, Day 1

It’s been a good week for game releases that I’m excited about, and not one of them has been on console or what I’d call a “mainstream” title — further confirmation that there’s more than enough entertainment out there for people without having to always play the “biggest” and “best” games there are. In just the last couple of days, we’ve seen Minecraft‘s official update to version 1.8, which adds some significant new content; the re-release of Wing Commander III on Good Old Games; and, of course, TrackMania 2 Canyon being unleashed on the public.

I’ve been playing it a bit tonight so I thought I’d share some observations.

First up: it’s good. It’s still recognizably TrackMania — the interface and sound effects are pretty much identical. The driving model for the cars on offer in the Canyon environment is fun, though — strongly drift-based and very reminiscent of arcade racers such as Burnout, Daytona and Ridge Racer. This is a little different from the variety of cars seen in TrackMania United, where for the most part, drifting was discouraged as it lowered your speed. In the Canyon, however, if a corner is more than a slight wiggle you’re encouraged to throw your car around it sideways. Always fun.

The potential disappointment of the game that I had on my radar was the fact that it only has a single environment — the titular Canyon. Fortunately, there are enough blocks and combinations thereof to mean that this environment offers more than enough variety to carry a whole game. And the single player campaign is nicely paced, alternating between twisty mountain roads, rollercoasteresque elevated tracks and traditional speedway circuits. Despite remaining in the same cars in the same canyon for the whole game, it’s not a worry — for now, at least, and by the time it may start feeling a bit stale, there’ll surely be some modders out there with new textures and addons to improve the game. And following that, the Valley environment will be released — and who knows what beyond that?

If you’re not a TrackMania fan then the fact the base of the game is fundamentally not that different probably won’t be enough to sway you — though the improved driving model makes it a little more accessible than the sometimes-idiosyncratic handling of United‘s lineup. Series purists are bemoaning the lack of Platform and Stunt levels in the single player campaign, though these were always lesser-played modes anyway, and Nadeo have also said that there’s the possibility of putting these modes back in through a future update — the whole point of the “ManiaPlanet” platform is to be able to evolve it on a regular basis.

A pleasing new addition is the four-player split screen mode. I haven’t tried it as yet, but if you have your PC hooked up to your TV as I do, this will make for some highly entertaining party play. The Hotseat mode of the original is present and correct, too, as is LAN play. And online is as fun as ever, with servers already offering a wide variety of creative community tracks and intense competition for up to 200 people at once.

So first impressions of the game are very good, then, and especially as it’s just £20. While the lack of other environments is a shame, with the game releasing at a lower price point I certainly won’t object to paying more for extra environments in the future — particularly if each comes with its own campaign, as is likely to happen. And the future also holds the highly intriguing possibilities offered by ShootMania and QuestMania, information on which is very limited right now. QuestMania is probably the one I’m most excited about, as I’m very interested in the implementation of user-created RPG quests. I hope it turns out to be good. We’ll see!

You can grab TrackMania 2 Canyon now from its official website, and I recommend that you do.

#oneaday, Day 603: Midnight

The night-time was always the most difficult. It was in the dark of the night that the pain worsened, mentally and physically. Often she chose to forgo sleep in the twilight hours and rest during the daytime — it was not as if she led an especially active, social life, after all, and the sunlight kept the demons at bay.

Tonight was bad. Her whole body ached, and her mind throbbed with panic, frustration and fear. The worst part of it was that she couldn’t reach the bottom of it — every time she felt like getting closer to some sort of explanation, it darted out of reach, just around a corner, like a mischievous gremlin determined to prolong her suffering for as long as possible.

While her body was old and broken and her waking mind often clouded with thoughts that should not be, her imagination was still as lithe and agile as a gymnast, and it was with this she often kept the pain away long enough to see the sun rise from behind the houses across the way.

So it was once again tonight. She sat in the chair she always took, positioned next to the window, at a slight angle so she could lean her elbow on the windowsill and look out without putting too much strain on her frail bones. The light of the moon was bright tonight, and illuminated the garden with an eerie glow that brought to mind images of ethereal spirits darting around, just out of eyeshot, constantly avoiding the curious gazes of those few who did not succumb to sleep during these peaceful hours.

She knew this was not really the case, of course, but for the majority of the time, the fantasy was far more appealing than the reality. Rather than picturing sinister, malevolent spirits, to her these were peaceful, tranquil spirits of nature, keeping a watchful eye on the world as its supposed masters slumbered. They knew that their job was futile, that mankind had already changed the world beyond recognition, but still they flitted to and fro, making their adjustments here and there. She stared through the window, picturing their machinations in her mind’s eye, not even blinking.

As she gazed into the garden, the images became more vivid, and suddenly she was among them. She couldn’t tell if she was still in her body or if she had taken on the translucent, ethereal, almost-invisible form of the spirits, and she didn’t care. She flitted around the garden as delicately as a fairy, glancing at the leaves on a bush here, the petals on a flower there. The freedom of flight was liberating, exhilarating, and soon enough she shot up into the air, leaving her erstwhile companions below in the garden.

From high in the sky, the rows of tiny houses all looked identical. She was hard-pushed to identify her own, but she felt she had it, and swooped down towards the ground in a vertical dive to prove herself right. She giggled in delight at the feeling of the air sweeping past her face, something — her hair? Her clothes? It didn’t matter — billowing out behind her. She pulled herself up sharply just before hitting the ground and looked up to see the familiar sight of her own back garden — the wobbly clothesline pole, the unkempt bushes, the lawn that was several inches too long (when was that nice boy coming back to fix it again?) and the solitary light in the upstairs window.

She gazed up at the window where she had left herself, a low light glowing providing just the faint indication of a presence, but not enough to see the figure she thought she would see gazing into the garden.

Then she was flying again, forward this time, at incredible speed. She skimmed the rooftops of she didn’t know how many houses — one, two, a thousand? — until civilisation stopped and the rolling hills of the countryside began.

Out here was peace and quiet and solitude, but not the lonely kind. The full moon bathed the landscape in its soft, cold light and she felt that she was alone, but for once she was at peace. She came to rest atop a small, natural but aesthetically pleasing arrangement of rocks, and sat. The longer she sat, the more she felt a growing number of presences surrounding her. But this was not threatening — there was nothing in the hearts of these spirits but peace and love, and they were accepting her as one of their own. She felt ethereal hands reach out and touch her, so soft and delicate that they might have been made of gossamer. And she let them envelop her with their feelings of peace and love, because here there was no pain in body or mind, only the soft, cool glow of the moon.

When morning came she watched from a distance as the men in the bright coats carried her out under a blanket and placed her in the back of the ambulance. On her doorstep was the kindly nurse who had been so good to her, shedding a few tears. She was sorry she hadn’t got to say goodbye to the few people left who cared, but that didn’t matter now. She was free, and no longer did the night hold anything to fear.

She was free.

#oneaday Day 602: The Systematic Destruction of Everything You Once Held Dear

So EA has officially confirmed the existence of Syndicate from The Darkness developer Starbreeze, and lo and behold, it’s a first person shooter. After X-COM, this makes two once-beloved PC strategy franchises pillaged in the name of popularity and commercialism.

Now, to be fair to both the new X-COM and Syndicate games, no-one’s played them in any great detail yet. (Except the developers, obviously.) So there’s every possibility that they might be very good. Syndicate in particular has a setting which lends itself to Deus Ex-style first person exploration and cyberpunk shenanigans. Perhaps it will even be able to out-Deus Ex Deus Ex: Human Revolution — given the somewhat mixed opinions I’ve heard regarding that game (mostly of the “it’s great but the boss fights suck” variety) that’s a distinct possibility.

X-COM, though, is missing the point to a spectacular degree. The whole point of the X-COM series was to repel an alien invasion through careful management of your strike teams, of your vehicles and bases. It was a complex series of games, but an immensely satisfying one as a result. Its isometric turn-based battles laid the foundations for many future games and indeed, some might say, the whole strategy RPG genre. And it’s not as if strategy RPGs have fallen out of favour, as the recent Tactics Ogre release on PSP, Disgaea 4 on PS3 and Final Fantasy Tactics on iPhone will attest. So why pillage a beloved franchise and turn it into a shooter?

Perhaps they believe that they’ll be telling an excellent story from the first person perspective. It worked for BioShock, after all (right up until that stupid ending) and it worked for the Half-Life series. But herein lies the rub — the original X-COM was an emergent experience where the story unfolded naturally as you played, and everyone’s experience was a little different. Sure, there was an end to the game (which very few people saw, I’d wager) but the route you took to get there was up to your own strategic mind and the decisions you made — and not in a BioWare RPG binary choice sort of way, all the decisions you made regarding the makeup of your team, their equipment, where they were based, how you developed them and so on. To pre-script the whole thing again seems to be missing the point somewhat.

Perhaps it’s just misplaced nostalgia that makes us ageing gamers want to remember these games as they once were, not as the populist reboots that they’re getting. After all, as gaming has become more and more mainstream and more and more people come to these big-name titles, games in once-niche franchises use the cachet of their name to attract veteran gamers while providing the quick-hit thrills of the popular FPS genre to attract younger players reared on a diet of Call of Duty.

Sadly, though, it doesn’t really work — the younger players haven’t heard of the series in question and simply come to the game because it looks interesting (and because people are talking about it) and the veteran gamers take one look at it, think it doesn’t bear even a passing resemblance to the game they once loved and thus dismiss it. They’d be much better off making proper sequels to Syndicate and X-COM in their original styles (with appropriately upgraded graphics, obviously) to appeal to those veterans — who would doubtless snap up such products in a trice — and leave the youngsters to newer IPs.

Alternatively, as someone said on Twitter earlier (I forget who, sorry if you’re reading) — if X-COM and Syndicate can become first-person shooters, why can’t Ghost Recon become an isometric turn-based strategy game? I’d play that. (And yes, I know it has already done this on the 3DS — with X-COM creator Julian Gollop behind it, no less — but I’m talking about a proper computer version, preferably PC exclusive, with renamable characters.)

#oneaday Day 601: Whatcha Been Playin’?

I have been playing precisely two games recently, one of which I only returned to today and the other of which you can likely deduce from recent blog posts.

Yes, Xenoblade Chronicles is still going strong and is still magnificent in its excellence. So solid is the gameplay that very quickly you cease to notice the little presentational defects such as the blurry faces, the Final Fantasy X-style nonexistent lip-syncing in certain scenes (but perfect in others) and, of course, the fact it’s on the Wii.

Final Fantasy XII was often compared by its players to MMOs. Structure-wise, it was quite similar, with large, sprawling, expansive zones making up a large interlinked open world which could be freely explored assuming you didn’t aggro some beast 30 levels higher than you. Combat was quasi-real time, with auto-attacks and triggered abilities. And the Gambit system worked in the same way as being a party leader in an MMO — you were explaining what you wanted your teammates to do and when. The only thing really missing from the MMO structure was a wealth of quests to undertake in place of grinding simply by killing enemies. Sure, there were the Hunts, and those were cool, but ultimately they were all quite similar, albeit with increasingly ridiculous challenge factors as the game progressed.

Xenoblade Chronicles doesn’t deviate too far from this formula, though the changes it makes are quite welcome. The Gambit system has been ditched in favour of some excellent party AI who genuinely seem to know what the right thing to do in a given situation is, so long as you’ve made sure their equipment and skills are levelled appropriately. Unlike FFXII, you can’t switch characters at will during battle to trigger specific abilities, though when protagonist Shulk gets a premonition of a particularly devastating attack, it is possible to warn your teammates, which then allows you to pick one of their abilities to use.

The Tension system is an interesting addition, too. Characters’ morale is tracked during combat and reflected in their portraits by their health bars. Should a battle go badly, teammates will get demotivated and start missing or generally being crap. Cheering them on and praising them for cries or dodges helps get their morale back up, and the background music and battle cries all reflect how the fight is going. It’s a nice touch.

Quests are present, too, by the hundreds. Unlike FFXII’s relatively limited number of Hunts available at once, entering a new zone in Xenoblade generally means you’re about to be bombarded with quests. Some are simple and formulaic for each area — kill x beasts, find x collectibles, kill x boss — but then there’s a range of mini-stories to follow too, most of which allow you to build up your Affinity Chart, a worryingly comprehensive “family tree” of every named character in the game and their relationship to one another. I’m yet to see if this information becomes super useful, but even if not it’s neat to see it all mapped out.

So; 34 hours in so far and I now have a nice selection of characters to play with. Between battles you can switch your lineup whenever you like, so you can spend the whole game controlling a character who fits your preferred playstyle if you like, whether that’s tank, healer or damage dealer. Of course, changing things up not only adds variety but also allows you to build up Affinities between different combinations of party members, so you’re indirectly encouraged to do so. And mercifully, inactive characters receive XP at the same rate as active ones so there’s never any need to switch up characters just because someone’s 10 levels behind, unlike FFXII.

But enough enthusing about that. It’s certainly on track to be my Game of the Year so far. Which is nice.

The other game I went back to playing today was Minecraft, thanks to the “leaked” version 1.8 patch. This “Adventure” update gives Minecraft a good kick up the bottom and while it still doesn’t structure the game as such, it gives much more incentive to wander off in hope of discovering cool things. The new landscape generation makes for some spectacularly diverse worlds with deserts, canyons, plains, forests, dungeons, caves and all sorts to discover. I have taken to a strategy I should have used a long time ago — when going off exploring, I build a path as I go, making it significantly easier to find my way back to my buildings and storage when I need to. This hasn’t stopped me being murdered horribly by monsters down one of the horribly inviting deep holes dotted across the landscape which lead to the many random dungeons. But I don’t mind — adventuring is risky business. Sure, you could stay above ground and chop down trees and whatnot, but don’t you really want to see what’s down there…?

While 1.8 clearly still needs work — it’s occasionally buggy and experience points do literally nothing right now — it’s very exciting to see the game getting closer and closer to the state it will be in when it’s eventually declared “finished”. We all know that won’t be the case, though, as the team at Mojang is more than likely to keep adding stuff even after release. And even if they don’t, the mod community is likely to step up and show their stuff, too. It’s going to be a big deal.

Another working week beckons from tomorrow so it’s time to bid you good night.

So… Good night.