#oneaday Day 956: Knope

The great thing about Netflix — and the reason I was immensely joyful when it finally made its way to the UK — is that you can “take a chance” on TV shows you’ve never seen before without having to shell out for a DVD box set. (I realised the other day that I can’t remember the last time I bought a DVD. I’m not sure I will ever again, to be honest.) Trying out a new show is a simple matter of spotting it, clicking on it and giving it a shot for a few episodes to see if you like it.

So it was that I found myself starting to watch Parks & Recreation. I knew literally nothing about this show before I started watching it, so it was with total beginner’s mind that I jumped in.

Initially, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. It had that slightly awkward “comedy drama” feeling about it where you’re not quite sure if you’re supposed to laugh or not. I’m not a massive fan of laugh tracks these days — it’s funny to think that they used to be a fixture on popular shows — but sometimes it’s nice to have a cue as to when it’s “okay” to laugh.

After a little while, though, I started to “get” what the show was doing. I was supposed to feel awkward and uncomfortable. I hadn’t immediately twigged that the show was going for a The Office sort of vibe, but when I started watching it in that mindset, it became immediately a whole lot better. Since the first season, the show has seemingly successfully distinguished itself from The Office despite retaining the “docudrama” format. What this means in practice is that the characters in the show are free to break the fourth wall, address the camera and do lots of things that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to do in a more traditionally-shot show. At the same time, though, the format is somewhat subverted on occasion by characters doing “talking head” shots explaining what’s really going on in a scene and then being lambasted by another character who can hear what they’re going on about.

The show’s biggest strength is in these characters. Amy Poehler’s Leslie Knope is a strong lead, and her straight-laced nature is the perfect foil to the colourful, exaggerated characters that are her colleagues in the Parks and Rec department. It also means that when she does do something amusing, it has more impact.

Highlight of the show is clearly Ron-freakin’-Swanson, a mustachio’d gent who hired sullen summer intern April not for her secretarial skills, but for her total incompetence at dealing with other people, meaning that he never has to do any work. Frequently, we’ll see Ron in his office carving wood, weaving baskets or, in one memorable scene, using a typewriter he restored to “type every word I know”. Anything but work.

Not all of the characters are exaggerated caricatures, however. Rashida Jones’ Ann is another character whose understated, human performance inspires viewers to relate to and empathise with her. The way she uses casual idioms like “Dude…!” when talking to people gives her a very “real” feel, and her relative normality actually makes her stand out amid the rest of the cast.

To cut a long story short, despite thinking I was probably only going to watch a few episodes of the show, I’m now halfway through the third season with no intention of stopping. I’ve enjoyed it a great deal so far, and am looking forward to seeing more. If you haven’t checked it out before and are a fan of the awkward, slightly cringeworthy comedy of shows like The Office (particularly the original Ricky Gervais version) then you’ll find it an absolute hoot, I’m sure.

#oneaday Day 955: Ten Signs You’ve Been Working From Home for Too Long

I’ve been working from home ever since I decided that teaching was Not The Career For Me, and I like it a lot. I never really enjoyed the office environment of “traditional” jobs, and in the time-sensitive environment of a school you never have a moment to sit back and relax or, as is more commonly needed, sit with your head in your hands crying profusely. Freelancing affords one the luxury of flexibility at the expense of security, though I’ve been pretty lucky in my last couple of gigs to find myself with stable, predictable income each month. Okay, I had almost a year where I was pulling in a couple of hundred dollars a month and sometimes nothing at all. But things are, touch wood, now Going Well.

Working from home comes with its own pitfalls, however. Naturally, I haven’t fallen prey to any of what I am about to describe; this post simply serves as a warning to those of you made of less stern stuff than I am.

Without further messing around, then, let’s jump right into ten things that might make you feel like getting a “real” job might not be such a terrible idea after all.

You stop dressing for success. Or indeed at all.

If you can work in your pants, there’s absolutely no reason whatsoever to get dressed in order to do your work, right? Well, no, unless you’re participating in some sort of webcam conference, and even then you only really need to be “all business” up top.

Still, specifically getting dressed — even if it’s only throwing on a stinky t-shirt — helps get you in the mindset that Now Is Work Time. You can always take your trousers off again later.

Having a poo with the door open becomes default behaviour.

You might think that settling down for a long dump while leaving the door open so you can still hear your music/see the TV is a great idea if there’s no-one in the house. And indeed it is one of life’s great pleasures to do so.

But when this becomes default behaviour — when you start leaving the door open even for music you don’t really like or for, say X-Factor on TV, then you may have a problem.

To rid yourself of this issue, reach an agreement with your partner/housemate/parents (delete as applicable) that at least once per week, they will come home at an unexpected time. You’ll soon learn to be ashamed of your body and the things it does again.

Every time you see the postman, he apologises for waking you.

Related to the first point above, if you answer the door to the postman in a dressing gown, he will probably assume he has woken you, even if it’s lunchtime. Avoid this misunderstanding by putting some clothes on before answering the door.

If you are worried that you won’t be able to dress yourself before he puts one of those “sorry we missed you” cards through the door, keep a cache of “emergency clothes” handy near the door that are easy to put on — tracksuit bottoms and some sort of zip-up jacket or shirt are a good idea. They don’t have to match.

Your masturbation-to-work ratio gets rather lop-sided.

If you’re spending more time wanking than doing something useful, you aren’t working hard enough. Very simple.

Coffee consumption goes through the roof.

If you’re getting through a packet/tin/jar of coffee in less than a week, you’re probably drinking too much. I know you need to stay on top of your game and churn out those 15,000 words you promised by yesterday, but man, seriously. Imbibing so much caffeine that you can feel your heart going “OH MY GOD STOP STOP NOW” is not the way forward.

You start exhibiting behaviours typically reserved for the clinically insane.

Are you walking around your house mumbling obscenities over and over again because they “sound funny”? Are you dancing naked to the theme tune of your favourite TV show? Do you spend hours staring at a wall in the hope it will do something interesting? You need to get a proper job before the wall does start doing something interesting and you start having conversations with yourself.

You start experimenting with cheese on toast.

Cheese on toast is a simple and effective meal. The moment you start fucking around with it, though, you’re on a downward spiral. As soon as you start carefully layering various luncheon meats beneath the cheese, then seasoning with cajun spice mix and drawing aesthetically-pleasing patterns in tomato ketchup on top, it’s time to go and work somewhere with a proper canteen.

Actually, scratch that one. Deluxe cheese on toast is awesome.

You get really good at Countdown.

If you have reached a stage where you’re really good at both the letters and the numbers rounds of Countdown, you really need to get out and get a job. Possibly in Accounts. Or the Conundrum Department.

Your attention span diminishes.

You start some sort of creative project such as a list of ten signs you’ve been working from home for too long and then lo

#oneaday Day 954: I Love Cock

“Cock” is possibly my favourite word in the entire English language. I don’t care if you’re using it to refer to a rooster or an erect penis (I always felt that “cock” implied “erect”, as does “dong”, “schlong”, “wang” and numerous others; meanwhile “winky”, “dick”, “willy” and “tallywhacker” imply flaccidity, but I digress) — it’s just a fantastically satisfying word to say.

You have to say it right for it to be satisfying though. Try it with me.

Take a deep breath, in through your nose. Now open your mouth a little as if you’re going to cough up a big ol’ flob and pronounce a nice, crisp, hard “C” sound. Immediately follow with a round, fruity “O”, where your mouth makes the perfect shape of the letter it’s pronouncing, leave a short gap, then follow up with the “CK”. Ideally, you should throw back your head slightly while doing the “CO–” bit and give a pervy smile while doing the “–CK” bit. Advanced “COCK”-ers should feel free to add a crescendoing “mm” or “nn” sound beforehand for added amusement. “mmCOCK!” “nnCOCK!”

Lest you feel I’ve lost it here, let me explain my love for this gloriously expressive one-syllable word. It came about back in secondary school. Some friends and I were hanging out, and I, for some reason, happened to pronounce the word “cock” in the manner described above, and everyone fell about laughing. According to my friend Craig, it was hilarious because it, I quote, “sounded like a porn star saying it.” (It sounds even more like a porn star saying it if you also say the word “SUCK” in the same manner as the word “COCK” described above.)

Anyhow, the word “COCK” became our go-to insult or space-filler when there was a lull in the conversation. This use of the word, completely devoid of its usual context, came to a head one summer when my parents had gone on holiday and I was left alone in the house for the first time. My friend Woody and I had recently discovered Final Fantasy VII and, having both finished it possibly several times by this point, were doing a communal playthrough together, fuelled by tequila which we had decided we would attempt to drink despite the fact that both of us felt that it tasted like what a glass of water would taste like if you dropped about fifteen cigarette butts in it. As night fell, we decided that The Thing To Do would be to switch over and play Resident Evil 2 very loud while absolutely munted off our tits. (We also left a metronome ticking outside the room our friend Ed, who had flaked out early, was sleeping in.)

For whatever reason, during our Resident Evil 2 session — and remember we were absolutely twatted by this point — we then decided that The Thing To Do would be to turn to each other and repeatedly say the word “COCK” in the manner described above to each other while attempting to continue normal play. Normal play was already somewhat difficult due to the amount of alcohol we had imbibed coupled with Resident Evil 2’s cumbersome controls, so it largely degenerated into just the shouting of the aforementioned syllable over and over and over again.

I don’t know for how many hours we kept this up, but it was certainly a long time. Probably at least one hour and possibly more. I’m pretty sure that we somehow got most of the way through the game while repeatedly bellowing “COCK” at one another, because I have a vivid memory of collapsing in a drunken, exhausted heap after failing to kill the final boss and waking up the next morning in an awkward position with the PlayStation still running.

So there you go. That’s how much I love cock. I’ll go all night with it.

(Aside: WordPress recommended “wine tasting descriptors” as a tag for this post. I’m not sure I need to make any further comment than that.)

#oneaday Day 953: Like A Dragon

I beat Yakuza 3 tonight, which is why I’m up so late.

The Yakuza series is excellent for many reasons, chief among which is protagonist Kazuma Kiryu, who is just so effortlessly badass throughout that you can’t help but admire him. And yet he somehow manages to be this way without falling into the testosterone-fuelled arsehole trap, which is good. One could argue that it’s further evidence that the Japanese are actually rather good at writing strong, interesting, deep and flawed characters, while the West is often stuck in Tropesville. (This is a gross generalisation, of course, but Yakuza does provide good ammunition against anyone who says Eastern games are just about big-eyed anime girls and floppy-haired teenage protagonists.)

However, one thing was at the back of my mind while I was playing, and it relates to this (rather ranty) Eurogamer opinion piece from a week or two back, during the “girlfriend mode” scandal, also known as “Game Developer Says Something Stupid, Episode 357”. The article had a point — people should speak up when misogyny and sexism rear their ugly heads — but the fact that the article specifically called out Yakuza for being sexist really bothered me.

It raised an interesting question, you see. Yakuza certainly features depictions of a particular breed of sexism and misogyny endemic to Japanese big-city life, but does that make the game, in itself, inherently sexist? Does the fact that the game allows its protagonist to visit “hostess bars” and attempt to romance the women within mean it is a sexist work? Does the fact that the game allows the protagonist to visit a poledancing club mean that it is misogynistic?

You could argue the case for “yes”, clearly, but the perspective from which I approach the Yakuza series is that it provides a (mostly) realistic depiction of another culture that is relatively alien to my own. Part of that culture is sexist, and to deny that it exists causes the depiction of that culture to no longer be accurate or realistic, putting the developers in something of a quandary. Sure, we could probably do without the lengthy cutscenes depicting poledancers doing their thing just before there’s a big manly fight, but for the most part, the Yakuza games depict sexism rather than actually being outright sexist. (As a matter of fact, the incidental female characters in the “hostess bars” are considerably more well-developed than any number of T&A-toting heroines from Western games in recent years. The game also passes the Bechdel Test with flying colours.)

Should we decry Yakuza as a bad thing for showing it like it is and not attempting to make a positive change in society? No, no we shouldn’t. Because not all art is there to make life better. Not all art is there to make a positive change. Not all art is there to create a utopian vision of What Life Should Be Like. Some art is there to depict How Life Is, and Yakuza succeeds in that admirably.

While I do believe it is important to call out sexism and misogyny in the industry when it comes up, I don’t believe the Yakuza series is the biggest problem. I don’t believe it’s a particular problem at all, to be honest. The writers of Yakuza create female characters who are real, interesting people rather than sex objects, and the protagonist interacts with them accordingly. Any sexism present in the game is a result of accurately depicting a sexist society — with the possible exception of the aforementioned poledancing cutscene, but one could argue that was there to establish ambience and atmosphere. And it’s not as if Kazuma goes around beating or raping women, either — every antagonist in the game is male, and Kaz himself treats all the women he comes across with nothing but respect, save for the odd option to give a cheeky, innuendo-filled response to a hostess.

Were the Yakuza series to be sanitised and watered down, with anything deemed to be sexist or misogynistic stripped out, a big part of the game’s authentic-feeling Japanese atmosphere would be gone. As much as we would like to believe we live in a world where there is true equality, the fact is we do not — and in many places around Japan, this is particularly obvious. To deny that this happens by whitewashing your content — particularly in a game that is aimed at adults — would just be short-sighted, and I’d argue that it’s more helpful to acknowledge that all this goes on without being hysterical or sensationalist about it.

But anyway. Yakuza 3 is pretty great. You should play it.

#oneaday Day 952: 伝説のブログ

I’ve been pretty much immersing myself in Japanese culture recently thanks to the various games I’ve been playing. Between Yakuza 3, School Days HQ and the Persona 4 anime that I’ve just started watching in preparation for Persona 4 Arena’s delayed European release, it’s been super-Eastern around here, to the extent that it actually felt a bit strange to boot up Guild Wars 2 earlier and hear people speaking English.

I would like to learn Japanese. I have been saying this for years, but worrying about it being difficult has stopped me on several occasions. I have, however, now found a decent iOS app (Human Japanese) that walks you through both the spoken and written forms of the language, so I will use that to give myself a good introduction and then see where I need to go after that. I am trying to devote a few sessions per week — ideally each day, but that’s not always practical — to studying. So far I have learned how to write the hiragana for the vowels, which is more hiragana than I have ever learned. I would type some to prove it, but I have no idea how to type Japanese characters on a computer as yet (except by copy and pasting from Google Translate, which is how I got the title for this post), so we’ll cross that bridge at a later time.

What I’ve found, however, is that through immersing myself in Japanese media, I’ve actually picked up a surprising number of words and phrases. Okay, I can’t spell them, write them in Japanese script or, in many cases, even say them properly, but I recognise plenty of words and phrases. Words like “densetsu” (legend), which I first came across when I heard the Japanese name of Secret of Mana — Seiken Densetsu, literally Legend of the Holy Sword. For quite a while I didn’t know that “densetsu” meant “legend” but I picked it up somehow, meaning that when someone in School Days HQ mentioned a “legendary break room” in the subtitles, I deduced that the part of the Japanese sentence that meant that bit was densetsu no kyuukeishitsu. (I know Romanji sucks, but it’s all I’ve got right now, yo!) I knew that the “no” after “densetsu” meant that “legend” was being used to describe another word (essentially the equivalent of tweaking a noun to become an adjective in English) so therefore I figured that kyuukeishitsu means “break room”. And sure enough, it does. Hurrah for apparently having the right kind of mind to work out language.

There’s a few other phrases I’ve picked up from Japanese media, too, some of which might even be useful. I can say hello in various ways (konnichiwa, osu! (tatakae! Oueeeeeendaaaaaaaa– wait, no)), good morning (ohayou!), sorry (gomen nasai), yes (hai), no (iie, pronounced confusingly similar to someone saying “yeah” hesitantly), goodbye (sayonara — if you’ve never studied any Japanese before I was as surprised as you are that it’s an actual word in another language rather than a made-up one) and express gratitude before a meal (itadakimasu, apparently bellowed by everyone before diving into one’s bento if School Days HQ is anything to go by). Oh, and strawberry (ichigo). And laughing like a shy schoolgirl (ufufufufu!).

Now all I need to be able to do is 1) incorporate these snippets and phrases into actual Japanese conversation and 2) be able to figure out how to write them in scary squiggly script. Both of those things will probably involve a lot of practice, so if I start talking about the densetsu no bento next time I’m having lunch with you, gomen nasai.

#oneaday Day 951: First Love

She was beautiful. He could tell even back then. There was no-one he would rather look at than her. Her long, blonde hair and beautiful, sparkling eyes enraptured him so, even at that young age. He didn’t really know what these feelings meant, but he knew that he loved her; he loved her dearly; he loved her more than anything or anyone else in his life.

He had no idea how she felt about him. He was too young to understand the feelings rattling around inside his head, so how could he expect to make someone else understand them? His love lived purely in his imagination, and he was happy for it to remain that way. In reality, she was his friend; in his mind, every time he closed his eyes, she was so much more.

His imagination had always been powerful, but it seemed to outdo itself every time she entered his thoughts. As he drifted off to sleep at night, he would close his eyes and picture her face; shortly afterwards he would be involved in some grand adventure either with her, or in an attempt to rescue her. He had fought his way through caves, forests, dungeons, castles and surreal landscapes made of warped shapes and bizarre colours; always, she was there waiting for him at the end, or by his side as he struggled.

One day, the bad news came. “She’s moving away,” they said. “And soon.” He didn’t know what to do with this; he didn’t think he could stop it, but he desperately wanted to. He had no idea how to start, though. He was still too young; too young to understand these confused feelings in his head; too young to understand the emotions welling up inside him. He wanted to talk about it to someone but couldn’t muster up the courage. His love for her was locked away in the deepest, darkest, most private part of his soul, and he couldn’t let anyone in, because he feared that he wouldn’t be able to get them out again afterwards. He relished his inner peace, and resented anyone who tried to defile it without an invitation; he was the one in control of his feelings; he was the one who had to deal with them, always alone.

The fateful day approached, and he began to recognize the growing knot in his stomach as a yearning to be by her side; a longing to be the one she would always come home to; a desire to give her one of the few keys to that deep, dark, secret place within his soul. He knew that he had to tell her how he felt, and he knew that he would only get one chance to do it.

The day arrived. One by one, his classmates bade her farewell, and after what seemed like an eternity, it was his turn. He looked up into those sparkling eyes and she smiled at him the way she always did. He smiled back.

Though they had both only spent a few years together out of their own respectively short times on the planet, he knew she had had a profound effect on him, and he knew that he should say something meaningful at this point.

A tense feeling wrapped around his throat, like a noose trying to choke the life out of him. He tried to speak the words he longed to say — I love you, I’ll miss you, please don’t go — but they wouldn’t come. They stuck in his throat, lodged beneath the invisible force that choked him so.

“Bye,” he said quietly.

“Bye,” she said, smiling.

He wanted so badly to embrace her; to kiss her; to tell her how he felt. But he couldn’t. He smiled at her one last time, turned and walked away, knowing that he would probably never see her again.

He was sad for a long time after that. It felt like a piece of his very self had been ripped out and replaced with nothing but inky blackness. There was a void in his soul where she had once been; he had wanted to let her in, not realising that she was already there. And now she was gone.

The pair exchanged letters for a while; his heart raced every time one of those distinctive coloured envelopes plopped through the letterbox — he swore she either used perfumed envelopes or sprayed them with her favourite scents — and he wrote back as soon as he got some time to himself.

As time passed, though, the letters became less frequent and eventually stopped. His own life was moving on by now; moving too fast for him to keep up with, and certain things from his past started to fall by the wayside. He saw it happening and regretted it, but he knew deep down within his heart that she probably felt the same way too. The black void in his soul started to heal, and he focused on trying to enjoy the present rather than gazing into space reflecting on what once was, and what might of been.

New loves — always unconfessed, assumed to be unrequited — came and went, giving him the familiar feeling of butterflies in the stomach for a few fleeting weeks before disappointment set in. But though the gap she had left deep inside him had mostly healed, he still held a place for her, even though he knew it was futile. She was gone, far away by now, carried away by the winds of change to distant climes, well beyond his reach. The fog of forgotten friendship descended, and he no longer knew where to find her. She was gone.

He opened his eyes slowly. The light of the morning sun was streaming into his room through the window, blasting rays of light through the panes of glass and casting a pattern on the bedspread. It looked like a nice day outside, but he knew that this was all he would see of it.

He had lived a good life. If he could do it all over again, there were some things he would have done differently, but for the most part he had no regrets.

Except when it came to her. If he had confessed his love to her when he had had the chance, how might his life have unfolded? Would it have ended the same way? Would all the other trials had endured and good times he had enjoyed have come about? Or would it have been completely different?

There’s no use wondering now, he thought to himself. It’s much too late for anything but one last glimpse.

He closed his eyes again, and there she was, exactly as he remembered her all those years ago. He gazed into her sparkling eyes. which were now wet with tears.

“I love you,” he said. “I always loved you. And I never stopped loving you. Not for one second.”

“I know,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek, but a cheerful smile still playing across her delicate lips. “I know.”

As the flame within him flickered and dimmed, he smiled to himself. It didn’t matter that it was all in his mind. That was where she had always lived for all these years; that was where she belonged. But it was time to say goodbye.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Then he was gone.

#oneaday Day 950: It’s a Small World After All

Board game night (well, whole day, really) today and the star of the show was very much Days of Wonder’s excellent lightweight strategy game Small World.

For the uninitiated, Small World casts players in the role of some sort of omniscient entity guiding the development of several different races struggling for supremacy in a world that isn’t big enough for all of them. Players must capture territory and make use of their various peoples’ special abilities to score as many points as possible after a set number of turns have elapsed.

To begin with, a variety of random civilisations are created by matching a race with a trait. This determines two things: that people’s combination of special abilities, and the initial number of tokens the player will be able to take into their hand. Each race has a special characteristic and so does the trait, making for a very wide array of possible civilisations.

You might be in control of a bunch of seafaring dwarves, for example, meaning that you get score bonuses for every mine you capture, and are also the only people able to capture aquatic territories. Or you could have control of a band of pillaging giants, who find it easier to attack enemies near mountains, and who gain additional bonuses if they captured an occupied territory rather than an empty one.

If a people is no longer proving efficient at scoring points — perhaps a few conquests from the other players left their numbers a little depleted, for example — it’s possible to spend a run putting them “in decline”, which means they continue to score points so long as they are not obliterated from the map, and are unable to move or attack. The player then gets a brand new race to play with on the next turn.

The game is fast-paced, fun and exciting. Relatively little of it is dependent on luck, but the strategy isn’t so hardcore that it is inaccessible to newcomers. It has a fair bit in common with Risk, but is immediately superior due to the fact it doesn’t take three hours to play and inevitably end in a stalemate. The built-in time limit keeps play pacy, and the very design of the game ensures players are at each other’s throats as often as possible.

In short, its good reputation as a quality board game is well deserved. It’s straightforward and accessible enough for board gaming newcomers to be able to pick up right away, while its strategy has enough depth to keep things interesting — and pleasingly different each time you play.

There’s also an iPad version available, but this unfortunately only supports two players, while the physical version will take up to five.

#oneaday Day 949: I Love You, Kotonoha… No, Wait, Sekai

You may recall back when I was rather obsessed with visual novel Katawa Shoujo that I put together a lengthy series of posts dissecting each of the characters and each narrative path it was possible to follow in the game. School Days HQ is inspiring me to do that again, and I know that there’s at least one person reading this who is finding my descriptions of this game interesting (Hi, Calin!) so… well, here we go.

I make no apologies for the length of this post.

Spoileriffic thoughts follow. If you’re going to play School Days HQ and don’t want it spoiled, stop reading. Yeah, you.

The first thing I’ll say is that I have not seen all of this game’s endings yet. Given that there are twenty of them (I think), doing so will take a while. I have, however, seen five of them, and I feel this is starting to give me a good understanding of the characters involved.

School Days is structured in an interesting manner. As opposed to Katawa Shoujo’s heavily branching first act and then five completely discrete “paths” through the game, School Days’ narrative branches all over the bloody place. There are two distinct “paths” that the story splits into at the end of the second of the game’s six “episodes”, each seeing protagonist Makoto apparently pursuing one of the two leading ladies, but whether or not he will end up with his “chosen” girl is by no means a foregone conclusion. The various paths which the story can follow give additional context to various scenes, and help provide the player with additional understanding of a variety of characters — both the three leads and the more incidental characters. Let’s look at them one at a time.

Makoto

Protagonist Makoto is, unlike a lot of visual novel/eroge protagonists, his own person rather than a “blank slate” onto which the player can project themselves. We join him as he finds himself attracted to the mysterious girl he sees on the train every day. This is Kotonoha. Shortly afterwards, his homeroom teacher rearranges the class’ seats, and Makoto ends up sitting next to Sekai, whom he has not had much occasion to speak to before.

Makoto initially isn’t sure how to respond to Sekai — she appears to be strong, pushy, loud and talkative. When she catches him apparently attempting to do a “charm” with his mobile phone — schoolyard rumour has it that if you take a photo of the person you like and keep it a secret for three weeks, they’ll fall in love with you — things get interesting.

The very fact that Makoto is attempting this charm in the first place shows us that he’s obviously quite a lonely person. He seems quite solitary at the best of times, and lacks the confidence to approach Kotonoha on the train. It takes Sekai’s assistance for him to be able to talk to Kotonoha, and even then he struggles. Conversely, he appears to have absolutely no trouble talking to Sekai, though that might just be because she doesn’t take “no” for an answer.

But why is Makoto lonely? We see that he has friends — he often hangs out with his best buddy Taisuke in class, for example, and he still has occasional contact with Katou, a girl whom he went to his previous school with. But he’s distant, cold and aloof at times. At least some of this can probably be attributed to his home life. His parents are divorced; he lives with his mother and his little sister lives with his absent father. We don’t see Makoto’s sister often (or possibly at all — I can’t speak for paths I haven’t followed yet) but it’s clear that he misses her; on a number of routes, he seems genuinely pleased that he’s going to get to spend the weekend with her when we hear that she is coming to visit.

When Makoto does eventually get into a relationship, we find out a few more things about him. We discover that he’s quite awkward in embarrassing situations, particularly when coupled with the equally-awkward Kotonoha, but like any red-blooded male, he has “needs” — specifically, a need for physical intimacy, even if it’s just holding someone’s hand. His sensitive side comes out even here, though — in one conversation with Sekai he worries about coming across as “perverted” when all he did was take Kotonoha’s hand. Granted, she did slap him around the face when he did so, however, so what is the poor chap to think?

We also learn that he’s easily swayed, particularly by women. He is weak-willed and unable to stand up for himself when another woman confesses their attraction to him, and he finds saying “no” difficult to do. Given the other facets of his character we know about, however, it’s probably fair to say that this isn’t because he’s a horny pervert — on the contrary, he’s a very considerate lover, given the evidence we see — but rather because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. This is a character trait he clings onto in most paths, though in the one where he focuses on Kotonoha to the complete exclusion of everyone else around him, he says explicitly to her that he no longer cares who he hurts, so long as he gets to be with Kotonoha always.

Despite the fact he is so easily swayed, he does have the capacity to devote himself to something (or, indeed, someone) and tune out all other distractions. While it takes quite some time in most of the paths for him to figure out whether it’s Kotonoha, Sekai or someone else he wants, once he does figure this out, he sticks to his guns. Unfortunately, whoever ends up spurned doesn’t always cooperate.

Which brings us neatly on to Kotonoha.

Kotonoha

Kotonoha initially appears to be a “Hanako” — a shy girl who is almost painfully awkward in social situations, particularly those involving members of the opposite sex. She speaks in a quiet voice and clearly thinks about the things that she is going to say before she says them, presumably in an attempt to ensure that they are the “right” things and that she doesn’t make a fool out of herself.

We discover in several paths what one of the root causes of Kotonoha’s shyness is: bullying, both in the past and the present. We learn that Sekai’s tomboyish friend Nanami went to the same school as Kotonoha in the past, and Kotonoha regards her as a bully. We also learn that the other girls in her class bully her and take advantage of her whenever possible. This becomes particularly apparent at the school festival, when they leave her to man their class’ reception desk all day while they go off hunting for boys to take back to the secret “break rooms” to have their way with them.

Kotonoha’s difficulties stem largely from her appearance. She’s cute and she has noticeably larger breasts than many of the other girls, and she tells Sekai that it has been this way since the end of primary school. She resents this fact, however, because it makes the boys look at her “in an indecent manner” and the girls assume that she is wrapping all said boys around her little finger. The truth of the matter is quite the opposite, however, as Kotonoha has never dated anyone prior to meeting Makoto, which explains her awkwardness around him.

Kotonoha is heavily hung up on the conventions of polite Japanese society. It takes her two days of effort to summon up the courage to ask Makoto if she can call him by his first name, even after they’ve already been on a date and have spent several days eating lunch together. She is terrified of being touched, worrying about being seen doing anything improper, and resists all of Makoto’s advances when they are first together.

This particular facet of Kotonoha’s personality can be attributed to her father, whom we don’t see but we do hear about. He’s very strict and doesn’t approve of her consorting with boys, and also imposes a curfew on her to ensure she doesn’t step too far out of line. Interestingly, her mother, whom we do see much more often, is the polar opposite of this, encouraging her to take more bold steps with Makoto, even going so far as to teach her the family’s “secret lemonade recipe”.

Kotonoha, like Makoto, isn’t quite sure what to do once she’s in a relationship. However, one thing is abundantly clear in every path: once she considers herself to be in a relationship, she considers that to be for keeps. She is not good at admitting when something isn’t working, and continues clinging to false hope long after the object of her affections has clearly sought solace elsewhere.

If Makoto decides that Sekai is the one he really likes, then Kotonoha will continue to doggedly pursue him, eventually assuming that the reason he doesn’t want her is because of her reticence and fear of being touched. She grows more and more bold and discovers that she can take advantage of Makoto’s easily-swayed personality, particularly if sex is involved. She appears to develop something of a taste for sex after she seduces Makoto for the first time, going so far as to do some rather indecent things to him on the way home, and in one last-ditch attempt to break him and Sekai up (if, indeed, that is the path down which the story is going) seduces him once more and surreptitiously snaps a photograph of him in a very compromising position.

Kotonoha’s stubborn, dogged determination stems from the fact that she has nothing to lose. We learn early on that she has no friends, preferring to absorb herself in a book than try and make peace with the girls who bully her in her own class. She welcomes Sekai into her life, however, believing that she is helping her altruistically. When it becomes clear that Sekai also has feelings for Makoto, however, Kotonoha becomes very jealous and clearly worries that she is going to end up alone again, so figures that she might as well throw everything she’s got into trying to rekindle whatever spark there once was. On the flip side, if Makoto devotes himself to her, she doesn’t appear to care one little bit about Sekai’s feelings, because she knows that she’ll always have Makoto and doesn’t have to worry any more.

Kotonoha is a prime example of a character who is not at all what she seems at first glance. The shy, demure-looking cute girl actually turns out to be something of a master manipulator if provoked — given that she has nothing to lose, who knows what she’s capable of if things really don’t go her way?

Sekai

Sekai is the exact opposite of Kotonoha in almost every way. While Kotonoha is always immaculately-groomed and generally in her shy, quiet and demure persona, Sekai has shaggy, scruffy hair and is loud, brash, and confident, usually saying exactly what she thinks. She has a close group of friends whom she confides in regularly, and she latches on to Makoto as soon as the pair are made to sit next to one another.

It transpires, of course, that Sekai has actually had her eye on Makoto since the school’s opening ceremony, when Our Hero helped out her childhood friend Setsuna. (Setsuna also fell for him around this time, though this only becomes apparent or an issue in one path that I’ve seen so far.) She is secretly delighted at the chance to spend more time with him, even if it is just to get him together with someone else.

It quickly becomes apparent that Sekai’s interest in Makoto is a borderline obsession, as she refuses to give up on him even if it’s clear he’s favouring Kotonoha. She allows herself to be strung along in a “friends with benefits” relationship that arises from Makoto’s frustration and Kotonoha’s unwillingness to be touched. She is frustrated by this arrangement, but sees it as better than nothing. “It’s a lie,” she says every time Makoto tells him he loves her, “but it makes me so happy.” On the rare occasions where she does get frustrated and voices these concerns to Makoto, he immediately apologises and decides that they should stop doing what they’re doing, but every time she retracts what she says out of fear of losing him.

On the occasions when she does lose him, she shows that she does not cope well with rejection. She sinks into a deep depression, often becoming so upset that she’s completely unable to function. Often her friends are able to help her out of this, but if Makoto proceeds down the path where he devotes himself entirely to Kotonoha, she becomes completely inconsolable. She loses all sense of self-respect and self-worth, submitting to Makoto’s friend Taisuke as a “second best” option, culminating in a horrifying scene where Makoto and Kotonoha walk in on the aftermath of her clearly having been raped, despite the fact that both parties involves deny this. (This is the same path where Makoto comments that he doesn’t care who he hurts any more, so his reaction to seeing one of his best friends having clearly been abused by another of his best friends is simply to be irrationally turned on by the fact he saw her in a dishevelled, half-naked state, going so far as to whack one off over the memory when he gets home. What a cock.)

Alongside the fact she is prone to depression, she also has something of a defeatist streak. In one path, her mother gets a new job in Paris and it becomes apparent that Sekai is going to have to leave with her. She does everything possible to try and avoid this but eventually concludes that it is hopeless and gives up entirely. It takes Setsuna stepping forward and mock-seducing Makoto (and secretly hoping that it can go further) for her to realise that she is willing to fight for him, and is unwilling to give up on her own happiness just because of something that may or may not be out of her own control.

Sekai does not appear to have a mean bone in her body. Even when Kotonoha is doing her best to secure Makoto as her own, Sekai never stoops to insults or manipulation, instead preferring to “win” on her own merits. The worst she gets is yelling “Coward! Idiot! Die!” down the phone at Makoto towards the start of the game when he’s getting cold feet about asking out Kotonoha — a sequence which caused me to mistakenly describe her as “dangerously unstable” when I first started playing.

And while she describes herself as “quite a perverted girl” (despite being a virgin when Makoto first meets her) she never uses sex to get what she wants, unlike Kotonoha — although it could perhaps be argued that the times when she willingly goes along with Makoto’s “friends with benefits” relationship is a form of manipulation to try and keep him around for as long as possible. She has no real power, however; she even jokes at one point that getting Makoto to say that he loves her more than Kotonoha is “more than I can get you to say, even with your dick in my hand”.

Sekai’s clearly a better fit for Makoto. The two of them both seem considerably happier when they’re together, but shaking off Kotonoha proves to be rather difficult on most of the paths through the game. When they do get it together, though, there’s much less of a feeling of “bittersweetness” than in some of Kotonoha’s endings.

____

All three characters are fascinating to study, and not one of them falls into the trope trap. All of them have a surprising degree of hidden depth, and their interactions with one another is what makes School Days such a fascinating game to play. I’m looking forward to discovering even more about them as I creep ever-closer to 100% completion — it might be a while yet, though, since after seeing five endings I’m still just at 31%.

#oneaday Day 948: Please Find Another Term for “Nice Guys”

I had a lengthy discussion with a couple of people on Twitter earlier regarding the term “Nice Guy” and the negative connotations it appears to have picked up recently.

For the uninitiated, the term “Nice Guy” (with caps) refers to the sort of creep who hangs around women in an attempt to get into their pants simply by trying to make himself the “default” choice. He does his best to worm his way into their life and make himself available, and doesn’t take no for an answer, instead preferring to guilt-trip his targets and complain to anyone who will listen about being “friend-zoned”.

Now, I won’t lie; I’ve used the term “friend zone” before (usually jokingly) and, when single, have got depressed that certain women whom I liked and was spending a lot of time with didn’t seem to reciprocate my feelings. Or, to be frank, in most cases didn’t know about my feelings at all. Because I didn’t tell them. Because I am a nervous wreck in even the most mundane of social situations at times, let alone a high-pressure one like confessing that you like someone. If I had been turned down, I would have left it at that. (And in fact, in one case where I did confess my feelings and got turned down, I hit the brakes immediately.)

In short, while I may have, in the past, used some of the terminology or exhibited some of the behaviours of these “Nice Guys”, I am certainly not and have never been a creep. I do not and have never believed, as the wise Mitu Khandaker once said to me when describing this phenomenon, that “if I put in enough Kindness Coins then Sex will fall out”.

I do consider myself a nice guy (no caps), though.

Herein lies the problem I have with this term “Nice Guy” (with caps). It carries with it such baggage that it is no longer possible to refer to yourself or someone else as a “nice guy” (no caps) because of the negative associations with “Nice Guys” (with caps).

See where the confusion is coming from, now?

The thing is, being a person who considers himself (and is often described as) a “nice guy” (no caps) makes me feel like absolute fucking shit any time the “Nice Guy” (with caps) discussion comes up. I know that it’s not about me, I know that I don’t exhibit those behaviours or put women in unsafe or uncomfortable situations, but it still makes me feel like crap. I already lack confidence in personal (not professional) social interactions, especially when meeting new people. I already worry about coming across as a dick, as being boring, as being a creep, and now, with this “Nice Guy” phenomenon and the widespread adoption of “Nice Guy” (with caps) as the accepted terminology, have to worry about whether or not I’m being too nice and coming across as, in the words of my fine friend Campfire Burning (a participant in the discussion from an earlier and another self-professed “nice guy” (no caps)) a “creepy misogynistic would-be or actual rapist or paedophile”.

So please, for the love of all us genuine nice guys (no caps), please please please find another way to describe these creeps. There’s one, in fact. What’s wrong with “creep”? Or “jerk”? Or “terrifying, predatory guy who just won’t leave me alone”? Or “Hello, police, please? Yeah, I’m being stalked.”

I know the reason that people refer to them as “Nice Guys” (with caps) is because they refer to themselves as “Nice Guys” (with caps), but in doing so you’re just reinforcing the stereotype that the words “nice” and “guy” when put together is somehow a bad thing. And it isn’t. Those of us who are nice guys (no caps) are being slammed with the reputation of an unpleasant, undesirable part of society. And that is most certainly Not Okay. So cut it out. Please.

#oneaday Day 947: Further Enthusing Regarding School Days HQ

When I picked up School Days HQ, it was largely out of a combination of curiosity at why the game (or, more specifically, its 2005 original incarnation) was such a fondly-regarded game that J-List and JAST USA were pushing so hard, and a general enthusiasm for any kind of story set in a school. Seriously, I’m loco for anything set in a school. PersonaBuffy the Vampire Slayer, even crappy teen “coming of age” movies. (Fortunate, then, that Andie enjoys such works also.)

Regardless of the reasons for my fascination with school in general, I was expecting to be done with School Days relatively quickly and to be moving on to other things.

I was wrong.

After a single playthrough, the game helpfully informed me that I had seen just 12% of what it had to offer. After a second playthrough, that was largely similar throughout but had a very different ending, I was at 17%. Third time around, I’m starting the third episode of six and I’m somewhere around the 20% mark.

What’s keeping me coming back and playing this rather simple game over and over and over again?

Story. Characters. Simple as that. Each playthrough has followed a different narrative path and has taught me something new about the characters and their relationships with one another.

In my first playthrough, I played it “straight”. I always do this with visual novels or titles such as Catherine that are clearly inspired by them — all choices I make are the ones that I — or possibly the person I would like to be — would make. In School Days, you have the added pressure of having to make decisions in a relatively short space of time, with refusing to act at all also being taken as a valid choice, so I had to go with first impulses. I ended up with an ending that was somewhat bittersweet.

Spoilers follow.

School Days’ setup is that protagonist Makoto likes pretty but shy girl Kotonoha. Sekai, the confident girl he’s been forced to sit next to when his class changed seats, immediately latches on to Makoto and discovers that he likes Kotonoha thanks to the picture on his phone that he surreptitiously (and slightly creepily) snapped on the train. She agrees to help him get together with Kotonoha, and one of twenty different endings ensues.

In my first playthrough, as I say, I played it straight, or as if I was Makoto and genuinely in love with Kotonoha. I maxed out Kotonoha’s “affection bar” pretty quickly by saying the right things and being supportive of things like her phobia of being touched. Makoto dropped everything to do things with her. He let her be alone when she wanted to be alone, and was there when she needed him. This all went terribly well, culminating in her opening up to Makoto (in more ways than one, fnarr) and accepting him as her boyfriend. Eventually, the pair made plans to spend Christmas Eve together in an expensive hotel paid for by Kotonoha’s family, where they proceeded to, not to put too fine a point on it, bang each other senseless.

Unfortunately, all this happened without any consideration whatsoever for Sekai’s feelings. Early in the game, we get an indication that Sekai might, in fact, like Makoto when she steals a kiss from him as “payment” for her help with Kotonoha. She denies this, however, giving the couple space and dealing with her own issues by herself. This doesn’t stop rumours circulating that she and Makoto are together, however, which doesn’t make her feel any better. She enters a cycle of depression, ending up so wrapped up in her own sorrow that she is almost unable to function. Her friends intervene and rescue her, but whatever there once was between her and Makoto is gone forever. Makoto himself says to Kotonoha in this ending that he doesn’t care who he has to hurt, as long as he’s with Kotonoha. She seems quite happy with this situation.

My second playthrough followed an initially similar path. Despite my attempts to get Makoto and Sekai together instead, I still found myself on the “Kotonoha” plot branch — the story diverges quite wildly at the end of the second episode and proceeds down either the “Sekai” or “Kotonoha” route according to the choices made at the beginning, splitting into about a bajillion other branches along the way.

This time around, however, Makoto was clearly confused, and more than a little miserable. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be with Kotonoha, and missed Sekai, who was deliberately distancing herself from the couple in order to let them be together. Makoto tried to confess his love to Sekai, but she told him to stop being such an idiot and focus on his girlfriend. And rightly so.

But things continued to decline. Makoto’s heart really wasn’t in the time he spent with Kotonoha, and things came to a head at the school festival. In my first playthrough, Kotonoha takes the bold step of inviting Makoto to the hidden “break room” behind her class’s display to, uh, get over her phobia of being touched; this time around, however, the same situation arose and Kotonoha said nothing, largely because Makoto made his excuses and pretty much ran away before they could talk about anything.

Instead, Makoto made a choice: he went and found Sekai, who was waiting by the bonfire at the end of the festival. The school’s traditions and legends dictate that a couple who dances together by the bonfire will stay together for at least the next year, and knowing this full well, Makoto and Sekai dance together, and they both seem genuinely happy for the first time. The two enter a curious “friends with benefits” relationship, where Sekai agrees to be Makoto’s “practice girlfriend” with whom he can do all the stuff that Kotonoha won’t let him do, but it is abundantly clear that both of them actually like each other.

To cut a long story short, Kotonoha shows her latent bunny-boiler tendencies, forcing herself on Makoto and snapping a compromising picture of him in order to try and convince Sekai to give up. Sekai is understandably devastated and refuses to talk to anyone, let alone Makoto, but when he spends the entire night sitting on her doorstep looking completely and utterly defeated and is found by her mother, her heart melts and the two share the genuine couple’s embrace that they’ve been craving, while Kotonoha is left to stew and Think Very Hard About What She’s Done.

In my third playthrough, which I haven’t finished yet, I made a specific effort to woo Sekai from the beginning. It’s tough to do this — firstly because Sekai is seemingly resistant to Makoto’s advances and secondly because it genuinely makes me feel like absolute shit to treat Kotonoha like crap — but if you keep pushing enough in the right direction, the plot takes a wildly divergent path in a different direction. Rather than focusing on Makoto and Kotonoha, Sekai takes centre stage. It seems that she’s been avoiding both Makoto and her own friends — the former because she doesn’t want to get in the way of the relationship she helped build, and the latter because they believe her to already be together with Makoto and keep asking questions. It was impressive how much of a change some slight tweaks to remarks and context made to the plot, and I’ll be interested to see how this particular path develops.

End spoilers.

As that lengthy explanation probably demonstrated fairly aptly, this is a title with a considerable degree of depth — not in gameplay terms, but in a narrative sense. Both Kotonoha and Sekai (and Makoto, for that matter) are very complex characters with a variety of facets to their personality — only some of which you appear to see on any one given playthrough. Three times around and I’m still learning new and interesting things about these characters, which will hopefully help me to make the “right” choices in the end.

But that then begs the question: with 20 different endings, what is the “right” one? School Days certainly has its fair share of bad endings (though I haven’t seen any yet) but who’s to say these are “wrong”? Similarly, the first ending I got with Kotonoha was technically a “good” ending, I guess, but I was still left feeling distinctly shitty about how I’d treated Sekai in the process.

This is genuine emotional engagement right here. The Feels, if you will. And along with that comes a real sense of your choices having real consequences. This combination of factors, it turns out, is enough to keep me coming back time after time to see what happens next. I don’t need beautifully-rendered guns, I don’t need slick platforming, or creative mechanics; all I need for a game to keep me compelled is three strong characters and some increasingly fucked-up relationships between them.

Further posts on this subject will undoubtedly follow, especially if I come across any particularly noteworthy endings along the way.