2090: Fighting Games Are Confusing Love Max!!!!!

Was playing a few games with Andie earlier, and on a whim I decided to give Arcana Heart 3 Love Max!!!!! a try, since it had been eyeing me up from the Steam store for a while, and I’d been curious to give a modern fighting game a go.

My history with fighting games is a bit patchy. I played a lot of Street Fighter II back on the Super NES; I had an American copy, so it ran in super-widescreen thanks to NTSC/PAL differences, but it was still pretty fun. I also played a bit of Street Fighter IV on the 360, and various installments in the Dead or Alive series over the years. But I’ve never really got my head around anything more complex than the original Street Fighter II which, as fighting game enthusiasts will doubtless know, is considerably simpler than the monstrosities we have today.

One of the reasons I decided to give Arcana etc etc a go was because it appears to be regarded as a reasonably accessible example of a genre that has become increasingly impenetrable to newcomers over the years. It still has its fair share of complexity, mind you, and a few systems whose use isn’t immediately obvious — not to mention a lack of in-game tutorial — but once you get your head around the basic systems, it’s relatively straightforward.

The basic controls are pretty simple. You have a light, medium and heavy attack, and standard Street Fighter-style button combinations (various quarter and half-circles along with the Dragon Punch Z-shape plus an attack button) tend to unleash special moves for most characters. There’s also a “homing” button, which is Arcana Heart’s main distinguishing feature from other games of its ilk; tapping this causes you to home in on your opponent, and tapping it again causes you to home in more quickly while allowing you a certain degree of control over your trajectory. By using this, you can have some pretty impressive mid-air battles rather than being confined to the ground; it also makes for some interesting dodging mechanics that I haven’t quite got the hang of yet.

The Arcana part of the title refers to a significant addition to the usual fighting game formula: as well as selecting a character, you also pick an Arcana to assign to them. Each of these Arcana have their own set of benefits and drawbacks as well as a few extra special moves; essentially, they allow you to tweak and customise the character you’re using in various ways according to how you like to play. It also effectively makes the character roster expand considerably, as equipping a new Arcana in many cases makes a character play rather differently.

The bit that usually confuses me about modern fighting games is all the gauges on screen at any time. Arcana Heart, despite doing a piss-poor job of explaining these in the game itself, is relatively easy to understand once you know what they all do. Your health bar is self-explanatory; the little curvy bar next to it is called the “Focus bar” and allows you to trigger a short-lived mode where you move faster and have some other buffs; the bar at the bottom is your “Arcana bar” and is expended on super-special moves of various descriptions. The Arcana bar starts at one-third of its maximum possible value; in order to expand it, you have to land attacks or get hit, but the bar will only grow if it’s not in the process of recharging. In other words, you have to restrain yourself a bit with the supers if you want to grow the bar to its maximum potential, which you’ll need to do if you want to unleash the most devastating moves in your character and Arcana’s respective arsenals.

I absolutely haven’t got my head around how to play the game well yet, but I feel I at least understand the basic systems, which is more than I can say for some other modern fighting games out there. I feel like with a bit of practice — as well as curtailing my tendency to panic when playing fighting games and lapse into button-mashing mode — I might be able to get the hang of this, and hopefully have the opportunity to teach it to some friends, too, as I can see it being a lot of fun against other people owing to its inherent ridiculousness.

A decent investment, then; I’ll be curious to see how much — or indeed if — I improve with a bit of practice.

2085: Be Good to Your Meidos

References to lewd stuff ahead. No actual porn though.

Largely out of curiosity (and in part due to being a filthy pervert) I decided to check out Custom Maid 3D 2 on the recommendation of some friends who also enjoy such things. And I’ve been pleasantly surprised by what this delightful package of filth offers.

Custom Maid 3D 2, is, like its similarly named predecessor, a sex game. I don’t mean that in the way that mainstream press tends to refer to visual novels with explicit content, though it is Japanese, much like the visual novels in question; I mean it’s a game where a significant component of the gameplay revolves around sex. I’ve long been fascinated with various interactive depictions of “virtual sex”; frankly, I find the whole scene to be a rather interesting means of living out all manner of fantasies safely and without hurting anyone, though naturally I hasten to add that nothing compares to actually having a real partner and doing things in the 3D world. I know that during “dry spells” over the years, though, stuff like this has proven to be an adequate substitute, if you know what I mean.

But anyway. I don’t want to focus specifically on the pornographic aspects of Custom Maid 3D 2 because although it is hot as hell, the fact it depicts sex is not the most interesting thing about it. No; it’s the fact that rather than being a straightforward “interactive porn movie” type of experience, there’s actually a surprisingly deep and involved game in there too. Whether or not it is in good taste is another matter, of course, but if you can deal with the sexy stuff, there’s an interesting experience to be had.

Custom Maid 3D 2 casts you in the role of the owner of an exclusive club. Your uncle passed it on to you, telling you only the bare minimum of details before buggering off to get married and leaving you with a failing business deep in debt. Essentially, the establishment you find yourself taking ownership of is an “adult entertainment” club where the maids who staff it, among other things, provide “night service” to paying customers. Unfortunately, owing to your uncle apparently being more of a playboy than a businessman, the club isn’t in a particularly good state when you get your hands on it; there aren’t even any maids left working there aside from your uncle’s loyal secretary, who is strictly off-limits for anything other than professional discussions.

What then transpires is that you hire a maid to your own specifications (providing a loose narrative excuse for a shockingly detailed character creator that is almost the most fun part of the package) and then spend ten days “training” her to be a… suitable employee for this type of establishment. This involves a combination of sending her out to classes in the daytime, each of which affect various stats, usually in positive ways, and at night… well, you bang her, obviously.

Here’s the interesting part: the sexy bits actually involve a certain degree of strategy and RPG-style resource management, of all things. Before you get it on, you have a certain amount of “stamina” you can spend on setting up a “playlist” of various activities. some of which are conditional on the location and whether or not she’s drunk; going over the stamina limit will cause your maid to pass out during the session and perform poorly the following day, so it’s in your interests to try and spend this as efficiently as possible.

Once you get started, each “activity” has several different actions you can take. Each one of these has an impact on a number of things according to what the action and overall activity is. Usually, an action will increase some sex-related stats significantly while reducing some of the more “innocent” stats (like “charm” and “leadership abilities”) to a lesser degree. At the same time, the action will impact the maid’s excitement, mind and reason levels; excitement affects the animations that play (and possibly the effect on stats? I haven’t researched thoroughly yet), mind presents a limit on the actions you can perform during a single activity — running out of it means you can’t do anything else, though it gets restored when you start a new activity — and reason causes negative impacts on stats to be stronger when it runs out.

On top of all that, the maid gains overall experience for each activity she participates in as well as “mastery” of the various activities. Improving mastery results in stronger, more efficient stat gains when performing that activity, and can also unlock new activities. Yes, we are indeed talking about a game with a skill tree that consists entirely of lewd things. Gaining experience can allow the maid to perform her various duties better — she has a separate level and “class” for sexy and non-sexy duties — and her disposition can change according to the activities she masters and does most frequently. In other words, you can “build” each maid as you see fit, and the game provides a number of special events and achievements as incentive for you to experiment with the maids you hire and discover the different types of character you can create.

It’s an oddly fascinating little game, really; while there are doubtless people out there who will likely take umbrage at the very concept (particularly the “training” aspect), those of you with a penchant for the lewder side of life may want to give it a look. Just don’t complain to me if you find yourself as engrossed by the gameplay as you are by the rude bits!

2082: Naked Fairies Blow Shit Up

I seem to be having a bit of a shoot ’em up kick at the minute, which is no bad thing, since I have quite a good selection of them now. Most recently, aside from Eschatos, which I talked a bit about recently, I’ve been very much enjoying Raiden IV: Overkill on PC.

I like the Raiden series a lot. Raiden Project — an enhanced port of Raiden I and II — was one of the first games I played on the original PlayStation, and I’ve followed the series on and off ever since. Raiden IV, I’m pleased to note, remains very much true to the series’ roots while being rather more up-to-date in terms of presentation — the recently released PC version happily runs in full 1080p resolution, which looks glorious.

One of the reasons I like Raiden — and Eschatos, for that matter — is that it’s not a bullet hell shooter. I enjoy bullet hell shooters, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes it’s nice to enjoy something that isn’t quite so buttock-clenchingly tense at all times. This isn’t to say Raiden is without its moments of tension, mind; there’s plenty of buttock-clenching throughout the course of a playthrough, but these instances tend to be spread out a bit more than in something like DoDonPachi Resurrection.

Another reason I like Raiden is its weapon system — and this is another contrast from many bullet hell titles. Rather than having a weapon that is enormously overpowered from the very beginning of the game, Raiden has always had three different weapons to choose between, plus three different subweapons to go alongside them. The standard Vulcan cannon has good power and, when upgraded, can happily fill the screen with a wide volley of bullets. The blue laser, meanwhile, is rather narrow, even at its highest power level, but is also the most damaging of all the weapons. And then there’s the infamous “toothpaste laser” in the purple containers, which remains one of the most inadvertently (or perhaps deliberately?) hilarious weapons in a shoot ’em up ever, tying itself in knots as more and more enemies come onto the screen.

Interestingly, in Raiden IV you actually have several different ships to choose from. There’s the default Raiden IV ship, which is like the ship from the previous games, only the basic, low-level Vulcan cannon you start with has a bit of a spread shot already applied to it. Then there’s the ship from the previous games, whose basic Vulcan cannon fires straight ahead and only spreads when upgraded. And then there’s a naked fairy — fairies have traditionally been the hidden, secret score items in Raiden games — that is much more agile than the standard fighters, and has her own complement of weapons that behave rather differently to the default ones.

Raiden IV Overkill is a comprehensive package with a number of different ways to play, each of which force you to approach it a little differently. The standard Arcade mode is where I’ve been spending most of my time, but the titular Overkill mode is fun, too; here, when you destroy a non-popcorn enemy you can continue shooting it to increase an Overkill meter, with bigger bonuses awarded for more post-mortem damage inflicted before it finally explodes. This forces you to play a bit more aggressively in order to score Overkills and collect the resulting medals, and it’s an interesting twist on the original formula.

I am absolutely rubbish at Raiden IV so far, but as I’ve managed to improve my skills somewhat at Eschatos with a little practice, I don’t doubt I’ll eventually be able to get all the way through Raiden IV on a single credit, even if it’s only on the easiest difficulty.

Still, as monstrously difficult as it is, it’s a whole lot of fun, at least. I highly recommend grabbing a copy if you enjoy a good old-fashioned shoot ’em up.

2075: Where’s the Luv for Muv-Luv?

Yesterday, a new Kickstarter launched. This is nothing unusual in itself, particularly in the video games space, but the subject matter of the Kickstarter was. Specifically, it was a Kickstarter to localise Muv-Luv, a popular Japanese series of visual novels that originally appeared in 2003 and subsequently spawned a number of sequels, manga and anime spinoffs as well as a ton of merchandise.

Since its original release, Muv-Luv in its various incarnations has been extremely well-regarded, and it’s probably not unfair to say the series as a whole is an influential, culturally significant work; some even credit it with the creation of the popular “Moe Military” trend most recently seen in shows like Girls und Panzer and Kantai Collection.

The localisation of Muv-Luv is Kind of a Big Deal, then, particularly as it’s gone un-localised for so long — officially, anyway; fan translations have been around for a while, but the legality of these is always questionable, particularly as enthusiasts sometimes turn to piracy in order to acquire the game in order to patch it, and in some cases the fan-translated version is even illegally distributed with the original game files included. The launch of this Kickstarter is significant in that it aims to bring a well-established, important series to the West officially and with the full cooperation of the original development team.

What’s even more significant about the Kickstarter is that approximately six hours after it launched yesterday, it had already smashed through its initial $250,000 funding goal. At the time of writing, still less than 24 hours since the campaign launched, it’s sitting at $313,571: well on the way to its first stretch goal of new CGs, music and unlockable content at $400,000, and putting Android and Vita ports within reach at $500,000. There are 39 days still to go on the campaign, and the excitement of enthusiasts is palpable.

And yet…

Nothing about this on Kotaku, a gaming site that has “otaku” as part of its name.

Nothing on Gamespot, one of the biggest gaming sites in the world, either; the site’s last use of the word “luv” was for a Nintendo 64 game. That’s three console generations ago.

The only mentions of it on Eurogamer are forum threads about the Japanese charts.

No mention of it at all on USgamer, even with their supposed experts on Japanese games and visual novels in residence.

And nothing on the behemoth that is IGN.

This isn’t to say that Muv-Luv’s Kickstarter success hasn’t been reported anywhere, of course; specialist Japanese sites such as Siliconera, Gematsu and Crunchyroll have all posted stories about the campaign, and social media has been abuzz with talk of the series, too.

But, as we’ve seen above, nothing at all on the biggest, most recognisable sites in the world — even those known to have writers on staff who are interested in Japanese games.

There’s an argument, of course, that Muv-Luv is niche interest and consequently not worth covering on these sites because there wouldn’t be significant interest. To that I would point out that on the front page of Eurogamer there is currently a story about a showering simulator getting banned from Twitch, on Kotaku there is a story about a Steam game called The Flame in the Flood that you probably haven’t heard of… IGN, meanwhile, has a story about a spoon that can take selfies... a story that turns out to be a video, as is so frequently and frustratingly the case these days.

In other words, “niche interest” shouldn’t be a barrier to coverage if that sort of stuff gets written about. And it could be argued without too much difficulty that Muv-Luv is of greater “importance” to the interactive entertainment medium as a whole than some showering simulator. (Seriously?)

Unfortunately, this is pretty much par for the course, it seems. Here’s what, by way of example, Kotaku had to say about previous culturally significant visual novel localisation projects The Fruit of Grisaia ($475,255 raised via Kickstarter, plus subsequent sales on Steam and Denpasoft) and Clannad ($541,161 raised via Kickstarter):

Yep, sweet FA aside from a couple of offhand mentions of their anime adaptations.

I know exactly why this is, of course: Muv-Luv, Clannad and The Fruit of Grisaia are all seen as “too small” to be of interest to the broad, general audience of a site like Kotaku or Gamespot, and perhaps there’s a point there: Muv-Luv has reportedly sold approximately half a million copies to date in Japan (plus over three million pieces of merchandise), which is small fry compared to today’s heavy-hitters. And yet there’s a bit of a paradox here: these sites have the reach and influence to make more people aware of these works — which are well-established as being of particularly high quality as well as culturally significant on their home turf — but instead they choose to focus on other things, be it predictable clickbait articles about whichever big-budget game has come out this week, or pieces about whatever the current indie gaming flavour of the month is.

Even so, and even taking into account the limited amount of time a games journalist has to report on the news each day — something which I know about first-hand, remember — it’s kind of a shame that the impressive success of this campaign and others like it haven’t even been acknowledged by the bigger, more mainstream sites. And yet they’ll take the time to complain about the Sorceress’ tits in Dragon’s Crown, or how Omega Labyrinth only appeals to kiddy-fiddlers, or how Senran Kagura is a game about nothing but breasts.

It’s little wonder that fans of Japanese games — and many gamers in general, for that matter — are turning their back on the games press of today.

2071: Eschatos

The other day, I talked a bit about shoot ’em up Cardinal Sins. Today, I’ve been spending some time with its follow-up (or, more accurately, the follow-up to Judgement Silversword) Eschatos.

Eschatos is very obviously cut from the same cloth as its predecessors, since it plays almost identically. Its main difference is the fact that it’s a considerably more technically advanced game, boasting dynamic camera angles, full 3D polygonal graphics and all manner of other goodies. It’s not the most stunning game you’ll ever see, but it looks good for a game of this type, and it runs gloriously smoothly, which is of vital importance to the genre.

(At least, the original Xbox 360 version of Eschatos runs gloriously smoothly; at the time of writing the newly translated PC version has some framerate issues on nVidia cards, but the devs are working on resolving this.)

Eschatos is a shoot ’em up that understands that shoot ’em ups should be thrilling theme park rides: exciting and surprising at first, predictable after a few goes. That “predictable” part is important: the essence of getting good at a game of this type is learning what the game is going to throw at you and then dealing with it accordingly, which is something you can only do with practice.

Eschatos makes the learning process quite straightforward by splitting each of its stages into areas, and each of its areas into waves. In order to get the best scores, you need to completely clear waves in succession (which increases your score multiplier) as quickly as possible (which nets you a time bonus, multiplied by your multiplier). Even boss encounters are broken down in this way, making it relatively straightforward to learn what to expect, with the challenge then coming from correctly and consistently dealing with it.

It’s particularly nice to note that the scoring system is easy to understand and parse, even on the game’s “Advanced” mode; having largely come to modern shoot ’em ups through Cave games, which tend to have some of the most complicated scoring mechanics known to man, this is a very pleasant surprise indeed, because it makes it easy to understand how to get better at the game: destroy more stuff more quickly, simple as that. (This is where someone chimes in and points out it’s actually much more complicated than that, naturally…)

I’m a fan. I must confess the 360 version had been on my shelf for a while unplayed, but the event release of the Steam version (and the realisation it could do with a patch) inspired me to dig it out again. I’m once again reminded that Japanese devs really are the masters of their craft… and, apparently, of glorious FM synthesis music that sounds like it’s straight out of a Mega Drive game.

Time to go chase some high scores!

2070: Michiru, the Girl in the Box

Finished Michiru’s route in The Fruit of Grisaia today, and my goodness is there a lot to process.

It doubtless goes without saying, but major spoilers for Michiru’s route ahead. I’ll put in a “More” tag for those who care about such things. Hit the jump for the full story.

Continue reading “2070: Michiru, the Girl in the Box” →

2069: Cardinal Sins

In between some lengthy Grisaia sessions today — I’m tackling Michiru’s route now, and my goodness is there going to be a lot to talk about there — I decided to check out some shoot ’em ups that hit Steam the other day: Eschatos and Judgement Silversword, previously available on Xbox 360 and, in the case of Judgement Silversword, the WonderSwan Color, of all things.

Judgement Silversword comes with a spinoff game called Cardinal Sins, and it’s actually that I’ve spent the most time playing today. Cardinal Sins takes the basic gameplay of Judgement Silversword and, instead of pushing you through a sequence of stages with difficulty that gradually ramps up (with a few big spikes along the way, if the first boss is anything to go by!) it challenges you to complete various objectives in the stage.

The game is themed around the Seven Deadly Sins, with each of the seven stages being named after one of them and providing you with a different means of attaining a strong grade or “judgement” at the end of the game. The first stage Envy, for example, tasks you with simply destroying as many enemies as possible, with your grade dependent on the percentage of all the available enemies you destroyed. Sloth, meanwhile, tasks you with simply grabbing as many extra life pickups as you can (and you can destroy them, so you have to actually ease off the shooting a bit), while Greed tasks you with “gathering data” on enemies by fulfilling various hidden conditions.

Greed is perhaps the most interesting of the stages as well as the most thematically appropriate, because getting too greedy for the “data” will result in your untimely destruction; instead, you need to learn moderation (or at least master the peculiar “shield” ability your ship has, which allows you to cancel bullets, but only from the front of your ship) in order to succeed.

After Greed comes Pride, where your job is to raise your score multiplier to x100 by destroying enemies as efficiently as possible — your multiplier increases by one for every enemy destroyed, but also drops by one every second or so. Following this is Lust, where you must clear as many enemy waves as possible; Gluttony, where you must destroy enemies for collectibles; and finally Wrath, where you are graded according to how many times your ship is destroyed during a horrid boss fight.

Interestingly, Cardinal Sins doesn’t kick you out to a Game Over screen if you run out of lives at any point; you always play through the seven levels in order, with your lives being reset at the start of each stage. Run out of lives and you simply get a “failing” F-grade on that stage, but you can carry on. There’s incentive not to do this, however; get through all the stages without any failures and you’ll be presented with the final battle, initially against a series of small but strong bullet-spewing enemies, and subsequently against a larger version with some seriously unpleasant bullet patterns to fend off. Only by defeating this “Mirror of Cardinal Sins” can you clear the game and sit back with a satisfied expression on your face.

I really like this game for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s nice to play a game that is genuinely retro rather than the fashionable faux-retro of much of the indie scene today; the game features some simple but deliciously crunchy chiptune music and sound effects as well as some limited but effective and clear visuals.

Secondly, it’s damn fun. The difference in structure from the usual shoot ’em up format of “survive as long as you can” makes it immediately stand out for me, and I’m a sucker for anything with an interesting grading and scoring system.

Thirdly, I’d never heard of it before, and now it’s on Steam a whole bunch of newcomers — including me — will get to experience it for the first time, along with its companion game Judgement Silversword and its pseudo-sequel Eschatos.

With Cave shoot ’em ups apparently on the way to PC via Steam soon, it’s starting to look increasingly likely I can finally retire the Xbox 360, which had previously been my shmup machine due to Japan’s bizarre rejection of the platform for everything except fantastic arcade shooters.

2060: A Fruitful Relationship: More Grisaia Impressions

In an effort to steer away from three solid days of ranting about games journalism, I asked my followers on Twitter for some suggestions of things to write about, and got a few nice ideas, so I’ll be making use of those over the next few days.

I thought I’d start with a request from my friend Mr Michael Cunningham, who wanted to hear a bit more about The Fruit of Grisaia, the visual novel I’m currently reading, and which I gave some first impressions of here.

So far, I believe I’m still in the “common” route of Grisaia, since I’ve only made a single choice so far, and that didn’t come until after a considerable number of hours of reading. The lack of interaction hasn’t been a problem, though; the early hours of Grisaia are clearly intended as a means of helping you get to know the characters and the context in which they find themselves, and the distinctly leisurely pace at which the early hours of your typical visual novel such as Grisaia unfolds allows it to dangle some truly tantalising mysteries in front of you, mostly with regard to the backgrounds of the characters and what has actually brought them all together.

Even the basic concept of Grisaia is still a slight mystery to me at this juncture. Although the early hours have been relatively typical high school slice-of-life so far, there’s clearly something more going on. From the protagonist’s frequent references to his mysterious “job” and use of military terminology and tactics to the unpredictable, trope-subverting nature of all the heroines, nothing seems quite “right” in Grisaia’s world, and that’s what makes it so intriguing. The fact that the school which they all attend has no-one but them in it — making for a student body of just six people — is perhaps the biggest mystery: why are they all there? What has pulled them out of “normal” life? What is the school for?

Amane initially appears to be the most “normal” of the cast. She likes to play the role of the older sister, and does so with great enthusiasm, particularly when it comes to protagonist Yuuji. Yuuji is initially resistant to her advances but eventually allows her to indulge a little for the sake of having a marginally quieter life, because even when she’s getting what she wants, Amane is forthright, frank, open and honest about everything — arguably to a fault.

She’s also seemingly very much at ease with herself as a woman, happily stripping off and getting changed in front of other people (including Yuuji) and wearing clothes that emphasise her curves. She’s also rather sexually aggressive towards Yuuji even as they’re first getting to know one another, often grabbing him and pressing herself against him, and on one memorable occasion, sneaking into his room while she thinks he’s out and inhaling his scent from his clothes and his bed; Yuuji catches her just before she starts masturbating.

I’m not quite sure what to make of Amane yet. I certainly like her a great deal, but I have a feeling that her forthrightness may, in fact, be compensating for something. Exactly what, I couldn’t say just yet, but I’m pretty convinced that there is more to Amane than meets the eye.

Makina is brilliant. Initially presented as the dimwitted loli of the group, it takes a little time for Makina to take to Yuuji, but they eventually bond, much to the surprise of Amane, from whom Makina is otherwise almost inseparable. It transpires that Makina is far less stupid than she likes to make out, and that she may well be putting on an act for her own mysterious reasons.

This doesn’t mean that she’s entirely “normal”, though. Her impressive ability to take mental photographs of books she’s reading and instantly recall information from them — albeit only in black and white — reminds Yuuji of his deceased sister, who had a similar ability. Perhaps not coincidentally, Makina quickly starts calling Yuuji “Onii-chan”, despite his resistance; much like he softens towards Amane somewhat, so too does he eventually just let Makina continue along in her own bizarre little world.

Perhaps the most amusing and intriguing thing about Makina is the way she talks. Far from being stereotypically cute and shy, Makina is foul-mouthed and frequently comes out with things you’d expect a dirty old man to say. Amane occasionally admonishes her for this, but since she occasionally slips into her own Kansai region colloquialisms, she doesn’t really have a leg to stand on in this instance.

Again, I wouldn’t like to conjecture what brought Makina to Mihama Academy in the first place, but it’s clear that something traumatic happened in her past; so far, however, the conversation has always been steered away from it any time it looks like getting into dangerous territory.

In contrast to Makina’s front of stupidity, Michiru actually does appear to be pretty dimwitted. Obsessed with the tsundere character trope to a fault, Michiru deliberately tries to act as stereotypical as possible, but in the process frequently breaks character in order to seek the approval of others — and, to a certain degree, herself — on how well she’s doing at playing the spoiled princess.

In keeping with the other characters, though, there’s seemingly a lot more to Michiru than meets the eye. As time progresses, whenever she is alone with Yuuji, she seems to want to open up to him somewhat. In some instances, she drops the tsundere act completely and attempts to have a serious conversation, though her inability to articulate herself in anything more than the most simple terms sometimes means she finds it challenging to get across quite what she wants to say.

Michiru is clearly struggling with depression — perhaps as a result of a condition or illness she has. Her adoption of the tsundere personality is a coping mechanism designed to hide any outward signs of her pain and suffering; by being deliberately aggressive and contrary about everything, she puts up a formidable barrier around the truth that lies in her heart, though, of course, I’m sure by the end of her own narrative route we’ll get to the bottom of exactly what is bothering her so much. She is the butt of a considerable number of jokes throughout the common route, but I have the distinct feeling she’s going to end up being one of the most sympathetic characters.

Sachi (right) is something of an enigma. Sweet, innocent and largely emotionless to a fault, something in Sachi’s past has caused her to become someone who takes everything she hears absolutely literally. This means that a joke about how she should wear a maid costume all the time because of all the hard work she does for others means that she now wears a maid costume whenever she’s not in her school uniform; it means that someone requesting “the freshest milk possible” sees her catching a train out to the countryside to go and milk a cow.

Sachi’s initial impression is that she’s a thoroughly nice and considerate person, but there’s something else at work. Occasionally — particularly when she’s dealing with Michiru — some uncharacteristically hurtful, acidic comments will come out of her mouth. There’s evidently some bitterness festering beneath the surface, though for the most part, she simply refuses to talk about it and quickly puts her façade of being the perfect maid back up.

The other thing about Sachi is that her tendency to take things literally means that she has absolutely no sense of shame or propriety whatsoever. When Yuuji jokes with her about the power a glimpse of lingerie has over men, she turns up to school the next day in nothing but lacy undies, stockings and suspenders. When she and Yuuji are cleaning the dormitory bathroom together, she falls over and gets her maid costume wet, then subsequently decides that the appropriate thing to do — after another joke from Yuuji — is to take it off, attach it to her mop (“to cover more ground”) and continue the rest of the cleaning job in her underwear. I anticipate that this aspect of her character in particular will cause more than a few awkward situations by the conclusion.

Finally, Yumiko is the most obviously fucked up of the main cast. Initially refusing to even speak to Yuuji, instead preferring to first of all slap him when he approaches her, and subsequently attack him with a box cutter at every opportunity, the barriers around Yumiko’s heart are nigh-impenetrable, it seems, but Yuuji’s ability to shrug most awkward situations off — perhaps due to his own background, which he hints at regularly throughout the common route without explicitly explaining it — means that he takes her violence and anger in his stride. He eventually manages to get through to her enough to be able to speak to her and subsequently have an honest conversation with her, even spending some time with her alone without her trying to attack him.

Yumiko’s basic character trope is that of the perpetually grumpy “student council president” type, but rather than being a blushing, awkward individual beneath the façade, it’s clear that her outward grumpiness is a sign of outright rage and bitterness bubbling beneath the surface. She is, so far as I’ve read at least, the biggest mystery among the main cast — both to me and to the rest of the cast, too. She keeps herself to herself, and no-one seems to know anything about her history. No-one even seems to know where she’s going or what she’s doing at the weekends when she sneaks out of the dormitory in the early hours of the morning carrying a tote bag full of “wooden objects”. I’m looking forward to finding out more about her.

That’s what I know so far, then. They’re an interesting bunch of characters, to be sure, and I’m really looking forward to each of their routes to discover exactly what makes them tick and what has brought them to the strange circumstances in which they find themselves. I sense it’s going to be a long road to find out, but up until this point, it’s been a compelling and intriguing ride with a ton of tantalisingly unanswered questions.

Number one visual novel of all time? I couldn’t say with confidence as yet. But it’s certainly one of the most immediately compelling, well-written — and well-localised — ones I’ve read for quite some time, and if you have the slightest interest in the medium, I’d encourage you to support it.

2058: Hi Games Journalism, It’s Time We Had Another Chat

And so soon after the last one! My goodness me. It’s almost as if you don’t listen or have any consideration for your audience whatsoever. Although if you’re writing for “dead” people, I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised, since the dead don’t usually talk back.

Today in Unacceptable Articles That Should Never Have Gotten Through the Editorial Process, If There Even Is One, I present Vice UK’s depressingly predictable article “Is There Anything More to Senran Kagura 2 Than Big, Bouncing Cartoon Breasts?”, written by one Mike Diver, someone whom I have never previously heard of, but whose credibility has, for me, already fallen in the toilet as a result of this single article.

I learned early on that you should never write a headline that is a question that can be answered with a single word. There are a number of reasons for this, the most obvious being that most people will look at the headline, think of their own personal answer to the question and then not bother to read the article to find out what the author thought. But beyond that, these sorts of headlines are often inherently loaded questions, too, demonstrating clear prejudice before you even get into the article itself. In the case of Diver’s article here, it’s immediately apparent that he has come to Senran Kagura 2 with the assumption that there is “nothing more” to the game than “big, bouncing cartoon breasts” and, as such, will probably take some convincing that, in fact, the series is considerably deeper than that. Or, more likely, he simply won’t even entertain the possibility that his prejudices might, in fact, be mistaken and based on flawed assumptions.

Diver kicks off his article by burying the lede — admittedly only by a single paragraph, but he still opens the article by talking about Metal Gear Solid V, Mad Max and Super Mario Maker instead of Senran Kagura 2. This is an immediate warning sign; it sends the signal that he would rather be doing anything other than writing about Senran Kagura 2, which, of course, begs the question as to why he is writing about it in the first place, but I think we all probably know the answer to that already. (Hint: it rhymes with “dicks”.)

Diver’s second paragraph then introduces Senran Kagura 2 by giving some important context: the fact that he downloaded the game “a couple of weeks ago” and, since that time, has “played maybe an hour” of the game in total, across “five or six brief sessions” that we can extrapolate to have been no longer than ten minutes each. He also briefly discusses developer Tamsoft’s history, implying that the PS1 era’s Toshinden is their most noteworthy and “acceptable” work, while everything since (including Senran Kagura and Oneechanbara) has been “rather more exploitative fare”. (He’s not wrong to call Oneechanbara in particular exploitative, but in that game’s case in particular, it’s a direct reference to “exploitation” horror films and as such is rather more clever than he gives it credit for.)

“60 minutes is enough to know what [Senran Kagura 2 is] all about,” writes Diver. “Breasts. Boobs. Tits. Baps. Knockers, Bosoms. Norks. Melons. Insert your own local, colloquial variation, here. Seriously. That’s it. Breasts. This is a game about breasts.”

I would perhaps be more receptive to this appraisal were it not for the fact that Diver contradicts himself in the same paragraph by saying “oh, sure, there’s fighting too, and a storyline I cannot even begin to fathom on account of it directly following the events of its preceding game, Senran Kagura Burst, which I’d not even heard of prior to picking this up.”

Hold on there. Hold on just a minute. There’s a little thing that you can do as a journalist called “research”. If you’re not familiar with a series — and the fucking great “2” in Senran Kagura 2’s title should be a pretty obvious tip-off that it is part of a series and a sequel to something — then you should probably find out a bit more about it before you jump in halfway. You wouldn’t start reading The Lord of the Rings (or watching the movies) halfway through The Two Towers without at the very least familiarising yourself with a synopsis of what had come before; you wouldn’t start watching Breaking Bad halfway through its third season and then whinge that you had no idea what was going on; you wouldn’t read His Dark Materials starting at the third book. (Or at least, you shouldn’t do any of these things, or if you do, you shouldn’t moan that you “cannot even begin to fathom” what is going on, because it’s your own stupid fault.)

“There’s an extremely long, context-setting intro, but I fell asleep halfway through it,” continues Diver, again contradicting himself by demonstrating that the game clearly does make an effort to get people up to speed even if they haven’t played Burst, and also demonstrating a clear unwillingness to engage with the game on anything more than the most superficial level.

Here’s the thing: Senran Kagura, as a series, is essentially a visual novel in which story sequences are punctuated by brawler-style action sequences — the 3DS games feature 2.5D-style fighting similar to arcade classics such as Streets of Rage, while the Vita and PS4 games feature 3D brawling somewhat akin to the Dynasty Warriors series. Although the games are regarded as “brawlers”, their main reason for existence is not, as Diver claims, “breasts”, but to tell their stories. And they do this through a medium that Japan has proven time and time again to be an effective means of exploring and developing characters: the visual novel.

It is quite surprising to a lot of people coming to Senran Kagura for the first time quite how much effort the game makes with its storytelling. Certainly, it’s not particularly flashy in its execution — it alternates between “NVL”-style full screens of text overlaid on static backdrops or event images for longer, more dramatic sequences or internal monologues exploring characterisation, and “ADV”-style head-and-shoulders conversations for shorter, more incidental and immediate conversations between characters — but it’s an effective means of getting its point across. The longer NVL sequences put the story in context and often feature past-tense narration explaining things that happened in the past, while the shorter ADV sequences give us an insight into how the characters are right now, and how they are responding and reacting to one another.

In other words, ignore Senran Kagura’s visual novel sequences — or “fall asleep” during them — and you are Missing The Point fairly spectacularly, not to mention completely invalidating your own assertion that “this is a game about breasts”.

“That a game like this can come out in 2015 is ridiculous,” continues Diver, now in full-on table-thumping mode. “It’s brazenly, unapologetically sexist. And it’s all as arousing as a dinner date with Des O’Connor, where [at this point Diver trails off into his own bizarre fantasy which I will spare you for now]. The thin waists and titanic whimwams might represent wank fantasy material for teenage boys who, for some reason, can’t bring themselves to find actual pornography on the Internet, but to a grown adult, a married man, a father of two, this is just the dullest, most tired tripe masquerading as titillation. I get more excited making toast.”

Here we get to one of the important issues with Diver’s appraisal of the series: his assumption that it is pornography. As anyone who has actually played the series will tell you at great length, Senran Kagura is most certainly not pornography. It has positive attitudes towards sexuality — most notably fetishes such as sadism and masochism as well as lesbianism — but that doesn’t make it pornographic.

Even the game’s notorious “clothes ripping” mechanic and its jiggly breasts don’t make it pornographic; both of those things have been put in there for two reasons: firstly, simply as part of the game’s aesthetic, in the same way that Bayonetta has masturbating angels and naked witches all over the place but isn’t “porn” — to be honest, you sort of stop actively noticing it after a while, and it just becomes “the way the game looks” — and secondly, as a reflection of the characters’ attitudes towards their own bodies, sexuality and selves as a whole. Compare Haruka’s positive glee as her opponent shreds her defenses to Mirai’s embarrassment at her skinny, childlike body no longer being hidden by her big, baggy Gothic Lolita dress as a great example of how this is used as a means of characterising the cast in a non-verbal manner.

Diver then plays what he clearly believes to be his trump card: that he’s a “grown adult, a married man, a father of two” and that this somehow makes him better than all this. To refute this, all we have to do is go back to his first paragraph, where he mentions Metal Gear Solid V (a game in which you can make a horse shit on command), Mad Max (a game in which you fix up a pretend car and blow up people you don’t like) and Super Mario Maker (a game in which you fashion crudely-drawn penises out of platforms floating in the sky in a magical mushroom kingdom, and then invite your friends over to giggle childishly as they leap all over them). I don’t actually think all of these games can be reduced down to these stupid descriptions, of course — but in the same way, Senran Kagura as a series cannot be reduced down to “this game is about breasts”, particularly after just 60 minutes across five or six sessions with a single game in the fucking series.

It continues, though. “Yet this is a game — a series, which has spawned its own manga and anime offshoots — with so many fans,” says Diver with apparent surprise that something he doesn’t like could possibly be popular or well-received. “Sales of the games to date have passed the million mark [significant for a niche-interest title like this] and coverage elsewhere has emphasised the gameplay improvements made to Deep Crimson, compared to its predecessor. And, you know, I’m absolutely fine with people playing this game, and enjoying it (be fair, most likely in the privacy of their own homes, despite the portability of the platform), and claiming that they’re primarily in it for everything but what’s inside all those fancy blouses.”

No you’re not, Mr Diver. You are not “fine with people playing this game, and enjoying it”, as your incredibly judgemental parentheses indicate. But we’ve already covered this; in your five or six ten-minute sessions with the game, you made no effort to engage with its more interesting aspects, and instead chose to reduce it down to “what’s inside all those fancy blouses”. I feel that you, sir, may be the one with the issue here.

“Of course, they’re fucking lying, as this is a game about breasts,” continues Diver, proving the point I made in the last paragraph. “And nothing else, so stop kidding yourself. You’re not playing Deep Crimson for its multi-layered gameplay, for its sole playable male…”

Hold on a minute. Games journalism as a whole is always whingeing about how there’s no female representation in games, and yet here we have a game with eleven playable female characters, each of whom are developed and explored in great detail across the course of the series as a whole, and yet the “sole playable male” is something worth fixating on or criticising? I’m not even sure what point Diver is trying to make by mentioning this — perhaps the mistaken assumption that horny young men refuse to play as women and as such will only want to play as Murasame? I don’t know. But I digress.

“…its pair battles or its tangled tale of… sorry, again, no idea, but I get that the baddies aren’t all that bad in the big scheme of things.”

Senran Kagura’s “baddies” want to summon youma and take control of these legendary monsters to assert their dominance over the world, and have no problems resorting to kidnapping and even murder in order to further their own goals. I guess Diver is right about one thing: he really does have “no idea” about what the game’s “tangled tale” is all about.

“You’re playing it because misshapen cartoon girls with weirdly massive eyes, piss-poorly made outfits and ginormous gazongas do it for you,” he continues. “And that’s okay, I suppose. Better that you feel up fictional girls on your 3DS screen rather than grope a stranger on the bus.”

Hold on a fucking minute there. The rest of this piece has been dismissive and judgemental, yes, but this particular passage crosses the line into just plain offensive. The not-at-all-subtle implication that people who enjoy Senran Kagura would be committing sexual assaults in public if they didn’t have their terrible, awful pornographic games to sate their depraved appetites and slake their thirst for young flesh is absolutely unacceptable. I don’t think any more really needs to be said about this, particularly as we’ve already had words about this. You do not imply that portions of your audience are criminals based on what kind of entertainment they choose to enjoy. You do not demonise people based on their open-mindedness. And you do not get to pass judgement on a game you have played for “five or six” ten-minute sessions without making any attempt to engage with it beyond “this is a game about breasts”.

This article is completely unacceptable, and should never have made it through Vice’s editorial process — if indeed there even is one. I’ve mentioned before that I strongly believe in a case for specialist writers who know what they are talking about in the field of video games, and nonsense like this just goes to prove the point. Diver’s article achieves nothing other than reinforcing prejudices and frustrating people who know better. It doesn’t drive discourse about gaming forwards, it’s utterly backwards and completely closed to debate; for all Diver’s protestations that he’s “fine” with people liking it and that it’s “okay, I suppose”, it’s abundantly clear that he believes anyone who has even a passing interest in the Senran Kagura series is a sexual deviant who is just one 3DS away from committing a criminal sexual assault in public.

Well, Mr Diver, your attitude is not fine. It is not “okay, I suppose”. Your piece is a vile, hateful, ill-considered and poorly researched screed about a topic you clearly have no business writing about. Go back to Mad Max and pimp up your wasteland-mobile, since that’s clearly what you’d rather be doing — though I’ll expect a 3,000-word essay from you about how the game’s depiction of women is “problematic” by the end of the week, assuming Polygon’s Phil Kollar doesn’t beat you to it.

In the words of Senran Kagura creator Kenichiro Takaki, “the world is full of stuff people will think is fun to them. It just seems so pointless to waste your time on things you don’t like or can’t understand.” If only a few more people took those words to heart.

2041: A Little Respect Goes a Long Way

Whew, that got pretty heated, huh? I make absolutely no apologies for yesterday’s post: it needed to be said, and I stand by every word of it. To reiterate: if you don’t like ecchi content in your games, that’s absolutely A-OK. The second you start branding people who do like ecchi content in their games as paedophiles, though, that’s when you cross a line from “opinionated person” into “total cunt”.

I’m really disappointed to hear of the number of NeoGAF bans that have resulted from the article I mentioned yesterday. (Still not going to link to it.) Quite a few friends — and quite a few new acquaintances — all found themselves banned simply for expressing dissent or dissatisfaction with the article, often in a polite manner. And no, that’s not just excuse-making — they really were polite about it. More polite than I was yesterday, anyway.

I’ve never been a member of NeoGAF. Not through lack of trying, though every time I have tried, my email address hasn’t been “good enough” for them to allow me in, whatever the hell that means. In one particular instance, it took nearly two years for my “application” to be rejected; I didn’t try again after that.

If it hadn't been Omega Labyrinth, some other game would have been the victim (and, likely, beneficiary of a ton of new publicity) of the latest round of outrage. — If it hadn’t been Omega Labyrinth, some other game would have been the victim of the latest round of outrage — and, it has to be said, likely a beneficiary of a ton of awareness it wouldn’t have had otherwise, so it’s not all bad.

NeoGAF is regarded by many as the de facto gaming community online. It’s where all the game journalists from the mainstream publications hang out, it’s where game developers and publishers hang out — in short, it’s a huge, centralised place to talk about games. Or at least, it should be: in the last few years, however, there’s been an increasingly tight leash put on exactly what is and is not acceptable to talk about there — and, relevant to what we’ve been talking about, a lot of the stuff that is outright banned from discussion falls under the Japanese gaming umbrella.

Trouble is, from what I can tell as an outsider to the overall community, there is pretty much no rhyme or reason to what is and is not acceptable. Senran Kagura is acceptable, it seems — or, at least, it was; a significant number of participants in the long, active Senran Kagura thread got banned as part of this latest nonsense — but something like Criminal Girls is not. Japanese games are the only games that appear to be subject to this much scrutiny; big Western games are discussed without any issues whatsoever, regardless of if they have any sexual or violent content in them.

I don’t want to dwell too much on NeoGAF because, as I’ve already said, I’m not a member there and so cannot comment with authority from the perspective of an actual community member. What I do want to talk about, however, is the broader problem that NeoGAF’s situation and yesterday’s debacle really highlights: the fact that it’s deliberately (and, I’d argue, maliciously) creating a divide between different “strata” of people who enjoy video games. In other words, if you like one of the “approved” games, you’re absolutely fine; you can continue discussing games and gaming culture as much as you like. But if you like one of the “forbidden” games — regardless of the fact that these games are not illegal, are not banned and are sold at retail — then your opinion is, it seems, automatically invalid; you’re not welcome to discuss it in the Internet’s equivalent of “polite society” and are instead forced underground to find cliques and subcultures who will accept you for your tastes, rather than everyone being in a happy melting pot respectfully exchanging opinions and learning from one another.

Dungeon Travelers 2 was the last game to come under the microscope for being responsible for all society's ills. Unfortunately for the outrage brigade, it turned out to actually be a really good game, too. — Dungeon Travelers 2 was the last game to come under the microscope for being responsible for all society’s ills. Unfortunately for the outrage brigade, it turned out to actually be a really good game, too.

As I’ve argued before both here and over on MoeGamer, this situation does a lot of creative works an enormous disservice. In my last ever JPgamer column at USgamer, I commented on the fact that a lot of the games that are habitually branded as “creepy” (or worse) by mainstream critics actually tick a considerable number of the boxes that these people tend to want to see as evidence that gaming is “growing up”.

Female protagonists? Or at least women in important positions with regard to the narrative? Sure; check out the Neptunia series, Omega Quintet, Criminal Girls, the Agarest series, Akiba’s Trip, Monster Monpiece, Moe Chronicle, Demon Gaze, Dungeon Travelers 2.

Unconventional storyline that isn’t simply “solve all your problems by punching/shooting/swording them to death”? Sure! Check out the Atelier series, Recettear, the Ar Tonelico series and plenty more.

Ambitious narrative themes? Sure! Take a look at The Witch and the Hundred Knight (coming soon to PS4!), Time and Eternity, Senran Kagura, Criminal Girls, Ar Tonelico…

You get the idea: these games don’t get anywhere near enough credit and are, more often than not, either ignored or derided by people purely on the grounds that they’re open and up-front about — in most, not all cases — wanting to indulge in a bit of light-hearted, cheeky teasing as part of their overall aesthetic. In some cases, the ecchi content is even used genuinely effectively to depict the growing relationship between characters; Time and Eternity and Demon Gaze were both particularly good in this regard, reflecting the protagonist’s sexual frustration and the growing relationship of trust and love between the player character and their main quest-giving “contact” Fran respectively.

Now, as Brad Gallaway wrote in his absolutely exemplary review of Dungeon Travelers 2, “people who are allergic to skin-heavy content might have a hard time getting past it to enjoy the game underneath. And honestly, that’s all right. I’ve always said that not every game is right for every person, so bouncing off of Dungeon Travelers 2 for that reason alone would be totally understandable.” This is the point that appears to be most frequently missed: games are not always for everyone. Sure, there are plenty of box-ticking focus-grouped triple-A games out there that are designed to appeal to the broadest possible demographic: they have to, because they cost an absolute fortune to make, so they’d better sell through multiple millions of copies to prove all the developers’ hard work wasn’t for naught.

I was specifically forbidden from even mentioning Monster Monpiece during my time at USgamer because of its provocative artwork -- despite the fact that it's a really interesting collectible card game. — I was specifically forbidden from even mentioning Monster Monpiece during my time at USgamer because of its provocative artwork — despite the fact that it’s a really interesting collectible card game.

But here’s the important thing: not every game is like that, nor should it be. Games with ecchi content are designed for a specific audience — and that audience cannot simply be defined or written off as “horny teenage boys”, as it usually is, though they are certainly part of it. In reality, the market for otaku games is male and female; young and old; straight and gay; trans and cis; and made up of pretty much each and every race, nationality and religion. The one thing they have in common? They like what they like. Simple as that. And these games are designed to push their buttons without caring what people outside that existing niche think of them. And that’s absolutely fine.

Tastes in art are complex, fluid, ever-changing, and one person can be into lots of things. You can enjoy high-class art and the most lowbrow of entertainment, and I know plenty of people who do. Likewise, you can also choose to enjoy just high-class art or just the most lowbrow of entertainment, or something middle-of-the-road. In the world of games, you can be someone who plays every “walking simulator” out there and believes they’re the future of interactive entertainment. You can be like my Dad, and only ever play Microsoft Flight Simulator. You can play nothing but hidden object adventure games. You can be someone who just plays Call of Duty with their friends on weeknights. You can be someone who has invested a thousand or more hours into Dota 2. Or you can be someone who enjoys games where anime girls have breasts and flash their panties.

Or — and here’s how you get the richest possible experience from one of the most exciting and complex forms of creative media in the world in 2015 — you can be into multiple things, and you can be open to new experiences. You don’t have to like everything, and you almost certainly won’t. That’s all absolutely, completely and utterly fine; the diversity in tastes is one of the best things about modern gaming, and the fact that month after month, all manner of different tastes are specifically catered to by developers and publishers is absolutely brilliant.

I maintain that anyone who hates Neptunia needs far more joy in their life.

What’s emphatically Not Okay by any stretch of the imagination is, as we’ve already said, shaming people for what they are into, regardless of what it is. Don’t like anime panties? Fine. Don’t throw horrible names at people who do. Don’t like Gone Home? Also fine; likewise, don’t throw horrible names at people who do. Don’t like Call of Duty? Also fine… you get the idea, no? To sum up: don’t be a total cunt.

A little respect goes a very long way. And gaming culture as a whole is not remembering that fact right now, and it saddens me greatly. Let’s all try and do our bit to make our wonderful medium a little bit better for everyone, shall we?