1013: Heads Up

Thought I'd give those of you who care a heads-up as to my impending plans: for November I will be doing something very similar to what I did last year, which is not participating in NaNoWriMo officially, but still taking the month to write something purely "creative" every day, and hopefully ending up with something at least semi-coherent. Note that because this will be harder work than the bollocks I spout every day for normal posts, the stickmen will be taking a short break while I write it. They'll be back in December, though.

Last year, the result of my productive november was a project called Wasteland Diaries, which you can read from the start here. This was an interesting experiment, in which I just started writing and "improvised" my way from start to finish. I didn't plan out where the story was going in advance (and that probably showed) — but in the end I feel that helped a bit with the deliberately confusing, mysterious nature of the whole thing. I specifically wanted the reader to be thrown off a bit by what was going on, and what better way to do that than by not knowing myself what was going to happen next?

I knew that attempting to keep that going for a whole month would be a difficult challenge, though, so gradually I introduced new elements — the other characters, the shifting narrators, the meta-plot — until eventually, by probably about halfway through the whole thing, I had a vague idea of where it was going and where it was going to end up. Perhaps not the best way to write a piece of fiction, but eh. It worked. Kinda. Of course, there were a few points where I remembered that I'd left a "plot hook" back in the first few chapters that I promptly hadn't resolved at all and now had no idea what to do with, but for the most part… yes. It worked.

This year, I already have an idea ready to go ahead of time. I haven't planned anything specifically, but I have at least thought about it. What I might do is figure out the beginning, midpoint and ending before I start and then work my way from one to the other over the course of the month. That strikes me like a good idea.

Naturally, I won't be sharing any details of what it's all about beforehand — if you want to find out what it is, you'll have to read for the whole of November. (Or, you know, look back on it afterwards and read it all in one go.) I'm quite excited about the basic idea behind it, though, so hopefully that should come across in my writing.

Decisions to make now, though. Character names? First or third person narrative? How much should I aim to write per day? What word count should I try and end up with? (To date, I'm still not entirely sure how many words a typical novel has in it… and I guess it varies a lot anyway. Also, am I aiming to write a novel? Or just an extended piece of fiction? I don't know. We'll see how it goes.)

Well, whatever happens, it should be an interesting month if nothing else. Plus I know a few of you out there enjoy my creative writing, so I hope you will like this project.

1012: Indisputable Measure of Quality

I can tell when an iOS app or game is genuinely good — I keep it on my phone after I've finished reviewing it.

For my day job, I spend an awful lot of time trawling through iOS games and apps of various descriptions and quality levels. There are some true gems among them, and there is some complete bollocks, too — and not just in gaming. I've lost count of the number of utterly pointless and unnecessary mobile-social networks I've come across in just the last few weeks, for example, and you'd be surprised how many Instagram clones there are out there.

On the gaming front, I've played too many completely shallow card-battle games to count — so many, in fact, that I've actually forgotten the name of most of them as they all blend into one another so much — and far too many isometric-perspective citybuilders that have absolutely no strategy whatsoever. I was also very disappointed to discover that the upcoming My Little Pony mobile game from Gameloft will be — you guessed it — an isometric-perspective citybuilder. Fuck.

But the amount of utter garbage on the App Store makes the titles that are actually good worth celebrating. As such, I'd like to present you with a breakdown of everything that is currently installed on my iPhone. I haven't necessarily played or used some of these recently, but I like to keep them around because they have either been useful/fun in the past, or simply because I feel "attached" to them. Or in some cases, I've just forgotten that they're on there.

Here we go, then. In no particular order… well, all right, in the order they're in on my disorganised home screen:

  • Google+ — official mobile app for Google's oft-ridiculed-but-actually-rather-good social network. Beautifully-designed app in my opinion, though said design is a bit divisive.
  • Facebook — official mobile app for the world's most popular social network. The app may be a bit clunky and festooned with obtrusive "sponsored links", but it's finally become a reasonably solid experience.
  • WordPress — official app for the service this blog is hosted on. The app is reasonably good, but limited compared to the Web interface. It also lacks a word count facility, which annoys me more than I thought it would.
  • Skype — not actually sure why I still have this installed. In fact, I'll delete it right now.
  • imo.im — my instant messaging client of choice. Supports most protocols you'd care to think of, including Skype.
  • Formspring — I haven't used Formspring for ages but occasionally it's fun to answer silly questions. The app makes that easy to do on the go.
  • LinkedIn — also not entirely sure why I have this installed, given that I never use LinkedIn. Time to delete!
  • Steam — official mobile app for Valve's digital storefront and social client. Seems to lack push notifications, but otherwise quite useful to get in touch with friends for whom Steam is a reliable point of contact.
  • Comic Touch — old app that hasn't been updated for ages, but features some fun, silly camera effects and the ability to add annotations and speech bubbles. Mobile version of the software I use to create the comic strips on this blog.
  • Instagram — still the best pretentious photography app in the world.
  • Snapseed — a genuinely excellent and surprisingly powerful photo manipulation app.
  • Brushes — best paint program for iPhone, bar none.
  • Evernote — probably the most solid "cloud notebook" solution there is, particularly now it is compatible with a bunch of other apps.
  • Bump — I never use this any more, but it carries positive associations of a very dear friend with it, so I've kept it around.
  • Air Sharing — handy little Wi-Fi file sharing app, allowing transfer of files between computer and iPhone easily. Also has built-in image viewer, media player and whatnot.
  • iDisk — urgh. FUCK YOU APPLE for removing the most useful thing about MobileMe.
  • Red Laser Classic — occasionally useful for price-checking while you're out and about, though you inevitably don't have mobile signal when you're in a Waterstones.
  • HippoRemote Lite — an excellent, reliable and free virtual trackpad/keyboard that can be used to control computers.
  • Box — I signed up for a Box account when someone tweeted one of those special offer links. I don't think I've used it, but it's handy to know it's there if I need it.
  • MotionX-Dice — no longer available, but an excellent virtual (six-sided) dice app.
  • Night Stand — my favourite app that puts a big clock on your screen. Not sure this version is still available.
  • Lloyds TSB — convenient access to mobile banking, though the app itself is a bit shit.
  • Primrose — strange and addictive puzzle game by Jason Rohrer of Passage fame.
  • WordFu — a game you should not start playing on the toilet.
  • Scramble CE — Didn't realise I still had this installed. Superceded by Scramble with Friends, which I can no longer be bothered to play.
  • Bejeweled Blitz — Still a fine toilet game, even with the increasingly-obtrusive monetization.
  • Spelltower — a brilliant little word puzzle game.
  • Fruit Ninja — probably no introduction needed. Slice fruit, have fun.
  • Tilt to Live — one of the best games iOS has ever seen, and certainly a game with one of the best soundtracks of all time. Known as "Try Not to Die" by my friend Woody, who can never remember the name of it.
  • DoDonPachi Resurrection — spectacular, wonderful bullet hell shooter with an outstanding soundtrack, gorgeous graphics and a touchscreen control scheme that works really well.
  • Mushihimesama Bug Panic — curious top-down action-adventure shooter from the DoDonPachi developers.
  • Groove Coaster — one of the best rhythm games ever.
  • Gridrunner — fantastic new version of one of Jeff Minter's classic games.

(Jesus. I didn't realise I had quite so much crap on here. No wonder I never have any space left. Continuing…)

  • RogueTouch — An excellent iOS version of the original Rogue.
  • Sword of Fargoal — Fantastic reimagining of a Commodore 64 roguelike classic.
  • 100 Rogues — Possibly the best roguelike on the App Store. Apart from Sword of Fargoal and Rogue Touch.
  • Frotz — Interpreter for text adventures and interactive fiction. Comes with access to a whole bunch of old and new classics.
  • Various board game adaptations: Catan, Blokus, Carcassonne, Ascension, Bohnanza, Ticket to Ride, Elder Sign
  • Necronomicon Redux — Fun Cthulhu-themed card game.
  • Hard Lines  Geometry Wars meets Snake.
  • Bit.Trip BEAT — Pong with rhythm.
  • Space Invaders: Infinity Gene — Very little to do with the original. But awesome.
  • Shazam — occasionally useful, but one of those apps you inevitably don't have mobile signal when you actually want to use.
  • Apple Remote — occasionally useful when, say, I want to listen to music from my Mac while I'm on the toilet. Somewhat superceded by the use of iTunes Match.
  • Spotify — it's Spotify on my phone.
  • Modizer — brilliant chiptune and MOD file player with access to a variety of downloadable selections.
  • Instacast — nifty podcast discovery and subscription app.
  • NanoStudio — portable music production lab. Should probably play with this more than I have.
  • Netflix — it's Netflix on my phone.
  • Co-Pilot GPS — this satnav app has never steered me wrong.
  • King of Dragon Pass — terrifyingly complex strategy game that I don't really understand, but would very much like to someday.
  • Starbase Orion — it's Master of Orion on my phone.
  • Game Dev Story — The only Kairosoft game that's really consistently held my interest.
  • Cardinal Quest — Actually, this is one of the best roguelikes on the App Store.
  • Pages — Not really sure how practical this is on iPhone, but it's nice to have it there.
  • MyFitnessPal — useful calorie-tracking app that I should probably start using again sometime.
  • RunKeeper — best run/cycle/walk-tracking app there is.
  • Diptic — got this when it was free, never used it.
  • Zookeeper Battle — see this post.
  • Super Hexagon — the most irritating game in the world.
  • Figure — cool little synth toy thing from the makers of Reason.
  • Any.DO — excellent to-do app.
  • Neon Blitz — surprisingly addictive, mindless little game.
  • Crunchyroll — anime wherever I go!
  • Ayakashi: Ghost Guild — for some reason, I am still playing this and attempting to determine why this has appealed to me where other card-battle games have failed. I think it's the fact it actually has a story, and is presented pretty well. In-app purchases are far too expensive though.
  • Rune Gems — excellent Shanghai-meets-match-3 puzzler.
  • Rayman Jungle Run — best game on iOS, hands down. I will fight you if you disagree. Unless you cite Tilt to Live as the best game on iOS, in which case I will forgive you.
  • YouTube — everyone bitched about the lack of the built-in iOS YouTube app, but Google struck back with a new one that is infinitely better than the previous crap which had barely been updated since iOS 1.0.
  • MangaCamera — this is awesome fun. Just try it.
  • Skitch — skitchy skitchy skitch!

WHY AM I STILL DOING THIS

oh, thank God, my battery has died. Oh well. I'll have to leave that there. Anyway. I hope you have found this list helpful, interesting or just, you know, eh. Whatever. I don't know. I'm tired. Bugger off. *slumps face-first onto keyboard*

1011: Sigh... Another Shitstorm

Boy, it all kicked off earlier. Again.

For those who missed the whole shebang, basically, this is the flow of events over the last two days to the best of my knowledge.

Yesterday:

  • Twitter "debate" erupts over whether or not it was ethical for UK games journalists attending the annual "Games Media Awards" ceremony to be tweeting promotional hashtags in the hope of winning a PS3.
  • Winners of said competition name-checked by several Twitter users.
  • Several of said winners speak up and say they are giving away their PS3s.
  • Eurogamer publishes this article by Robert Florence (now recreated on GAF because the Eurogamer-hosted one has been edited) in which he notes that journalists defending such a competition could be seen as corrupt. He quotes tweets from several public sources (mostly Twitter) in said article.
  • MCV staff writer Lauren Wainwright, who was originally quoted in Florence's article, posts on Facebook "Yes, I've seen it. Yes, it's slander. No, it's not being taken lightly." and quickly makes it clear that she is referring to Florence's article.

Today:

Most of the salient points surrounding this issue have probably already been addressed far better than I will do in this post, but since this is my personal blog I thought I would give my take on the matter, as something of an "outsider" to the UK games industry. (It's true; despite living in the UK, pretty much all games/tech journalism work I've done in the last few years has been for American outlets — the last UK publication I wrote for was the UK Official Nintendo Magazine, and that was back when the N64 was one of the current-generation consoles.)

I have come to the conclusion, not just as a result of this shitstorm, that I am Not A Fan of the UK games journalism industry.

Actually, that's not quite true — there are plenty of people in the UK industry with a considerable degree of integrity who sadly toil away in relative obscurity. People like Lewis Denby over at Beefjack, Ashton Raze and Tom Hoggins over at The Telegraph's games column, and itinerant freelancer Chris Schilling — and scores of others, too, most of whom I follow on Twitter. These are all people that I may not have had the pleasure of actually meeting in most cases (though I met Denby at the Houses of Parliament one day) but whom I have interacted with and have grown to trust the opinions of. I have no issue with these people.

However, what I do have an issue with is the "old boys' club" that is at the core of the UK games journo industry; a toxic heart beating away and infecting all around it with its bitterness and vitriol. In this inner circle, most people seem to actively hate their job, mocking it at every opportunity and deriding genuinely interesting ventures such as a games journalism introductory session that IGN attempted to host in London a short while back. The apparent priority for a number of these individuals — from what I can tell from their public output, anyway — is getting drunk and taking the piss out of the medium they're supposed to be representing. "VIDEOGAMES," they'll say (and misspell), deriding something that everyone is already aware of and completely ignoring the more interesting things going on in the business.

The focal point of all this vitriol is surely the Games Media Awards, an odious annual event hosted by Intent Media, the parent company of Wainwright's employer MCV. Now, you might not think that celebrating the achievements of hardworking journalists is a bad thing, and for the record, I don't either — but for the last two years I have seen nothing but obnoxious behaviour surrounding this event. I don't know about you, but for a professional industry awards ceremony, I expect a certain level of professionalism, formality and decorum — none of which are readily apparent in the slightest when looking at the GMAs, which are little more than a pissup for journalists organised by PR staff and publishers.

I knew that something was up when the "humorous" Twitter account promoting the event last year was publicly lambasting anyone (including me) who took umbrage with its less-than-professional tone. These suspicions were only confirmed when the sponsors for the event showed up brandishing about a million free condoms and with an army of dwarfs in tow. The event was a complete debacle and many of the journos present did decry the sponsor Grainger Games' behaviour as abhorrent, to be fair — but equally, there were plenty of "oh man, I was so drunk" stories circulating.

This year, it was a different controversy — specifically, a whole lot of behaviour which Florence quite accurately pointed out could be interpreted as shilling. Journos were getting their photograph taken with the dude from Far Cry 3 and tweeting about some game I've never heard of called Defiance, and publicly sharing both on Twitter. Some people quite rightly criticised this, and that's what kicked off this whole debacle. Specifically, it was Intent Media and various other members of the "inner circle" defending their behaviour that kicked off this whole debacle.

You see, part of the problem with the "inner circle" is that it believes itself superior and immune to criticism. At no point were those who had been "caught in the act" willing to discuss the possibilities that their actions might be misinterpreted, whatever the actual intentions behind them. Wainwright's "complaint" and possible threat of legal action is just one of many silencing tactics that have been used surrounding this issue, with the others being the old favourite "remember when we just talked about games? Games were fun!" and "get back to work" arguments.

Well, yes, games are fun, and it would be nice to get back to talking about them. But these conversations that we're having here are important, too. This whole ridiculous situation came about for a reason, after all, and it's something that the industry should learn from. Specifically, outlets should begin getting their staff better acquainted with media law, and they should also instill in their employees a culture that criticism is not always a negative thing; sometimes it is an opportunity to grow, change and improve.

Will the industry actually learn from this, though? Probably not, sadly. I would, however, like to state for the record that I have never seen this level of ridiculously shameful behaviour from the American games press. Sure, there's been plenty of public spats — particularly surrounding high-profile figures such as Destructoid's Jim Sterling and the Polygon crew — but nothing that's actually left me feeling as ashamed of the industry I've worked so hard to be a part of as the last 48 hours have.

I'll leave you with this excellent piece by Jeff Grubb from back in the early days of Bitmob. I agree with everything my hirsute honey says. And that's the last I will say on the matter!

1010: Connected Hearts

I finished watching another new anime tonight specifically so I could write about it for today's post. Oh, don't worry (as if you were) — I was enjoying it a lot, so I was more than happy to zip through it and see how it concluded.

Kokoro Connect is its name, and it's an interesting one. It's also not at all what it makes itself out to be initially, which I can't help but feel is perhaps not to its benefit. But that aside, it's worth a watch, and here's why.

The elevator pitch of Kokoro Connect is as follows: five high school students have escaped their school's You Must Join A Club rule by establishing the Student Cultural Society, or StuCS for short. Ostensibly, StuCS is responsible for putting together a school newspaper, but in actuality they spend most of their time hanging out in their club room in relative privacy, talking to one another.

Everything is shaken up one morning when two of the group show up visibly shaken by what appeared to be a strange dream they both had at the same time. For half an hour, they believe that they had switched personalities, with their respective consciousnesses swapping places and then shooting back with no explanation. The others are understandably skeptical of this bizarre story… until it happens again while everyone is watching. Thus begins a rather peculiar tale.

That's how Kokoro Connect sells itself, anyway. The reality is, in fact, much more interesting, as while the whole "body-swapping thing" is cool, it's a difficult concept to sustain over a long period. Consequently, the supernatural "hook" of Kokoro Connect actually ends up taking a back-seat to the real reason to watch it — its five characters and their growth over the course of the show's 13 episodes.

Kokoro Connect's cast is a relatively diverse one, initially appearing to cover a selection of predictable tropes. We have Taichi, who is the relatively "blank slate" male character; Aoki, who is the jocular "best friend" character; Yui, who looks (presumably unintentionally) identical to Asuna from Sword Art Online and is the "quiet girl"; Iori, who is the "loud, immature girl"; and Himeko, who is the "cold, aloof, mature girl".

As you might expect from modern anime, however, none of these characters are quite what they appear to be at first glance. I shall resist spoiling exactly what's up with each of them — because there is something "up" with all of them — but suffice to say that they all have plenty of hidden depth that is explored throughout the course of the series. The various supernatural happenings (which eventually extend beyond body-swapping) serve as a trigger for each of them to confront their various issues and discover their "true" selves — sometimes independently, but more often than not with the help of their friends.

Kokoro Connect is, at its core, a show about friendship and the way people can and/or should help each other through hardships. A key theme is whether or not you should always help someone when they're hurting, or whether or not it would be more beneficial to let them work things out themselves in the long run. A question that is asked explicitly partway through the run, in fact, is whether or not you should hide from your problems (both individual and collective) or face them head-on, knowing full well that doing so will probably hurt both you and those around you.

It's actually quite Persona-ish in many ways — specifically, it's a lot like Persona 4, which is about people accepting themselves, including the parts they might not want to acknowledge. The supernatural aspect of Kokoro Connect is significantly toned down compared to Persona 4 and is never really adequately explained — a situation which may well be resolved in the four new episodes set to be released next year — but it doesn't really matter. If it wasn't there at all, these would still be interesting characters and interesting stories. (This does, of course, raise the question of why it's there in the first place, but it does serve as a good catalyst for a number of subplots throughout the show's run.)

If I had to critique the show specifically, I'd say that a couple of the characters' "issues" are resolved a little too quickly and I would have liked to see some more time spent exploring them, but to be fair, no-one ever comes out and suggests that they've been magically "fixed" — the resolution of said issues tends to be of the "I think I know how I might be able to deal with this now" variety rather than anyone having a "magic bullet" to administer.

This aside, it's a great watch with some very likeable characters who make up a good ensemble cast. There's a nice balance of light-hearted comedy alongside the fairly serious issues the story tackles, and it isn't afraid to depict high school kids like how high school kids actually are rather than the squeaky-clean paragons of virtue they're sometimes portrayed as. (There's a particularly toe-curling exchange of "secrets" between Taichi and Himeko at one point, but I'll spare you the details.) This latter aspect is another thing that the Persona series was particularly good at, and it's a big draw here, too.

All round, then, if you like character-driven stories that tackle personal issues with just a dash of the supernatural, then you should give it a shot. If you can get Crunchyroll where you are, you can do just that right here.

1009: Some Favourite Characters

One of the things I always find most memorable about any story I experience, be it a book, TV show, movie, anime or game, is the characters. If the characters aren't interesting, chances are I'm not going to get hooked in. It's the reason I usually cite as to why I loved the open-world adventuring of Xenoblade Chronicles but find Bethesda role-playing games and most MMOs rather tiresome after a while, but it applies to pretty much any medium.

As such, I would like to present to you a randomly-chosen selection of five of my favourite characters that have popped into my head immediately upon attempting to think of my favourite characters. If that makes sense. I make no apologies for the fact that some or all of these are likely to be big-eyed anime or computer game people.

Grace (Gabriel Knight)

Most people cite Tim Curry's memorable portrayal of the lewd, womanising bookshop owner in Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers as the highlight of that game, but the unsung heroine of the piece is most definitely Grace Nakamura, his long-suffering assistant.

Grace is a realistic female character in that she's not there to be eye candy, she's not there to be a useless sidekick hanging on everything the hero does and she actually has a personality. She doesn't take any shit from Gabriel, and you'd better believe that he regularly gives her shit — his always-rejected advances are a highlight of their interactions, and yet it's clear that the pair of them do, in fact, care deeply for one another, otherwise Grace would have been out the door long ago.

The exact nature of Grace and Gabriel's relationship, at least in the first game, is kept deliberately rather ambiguous. Grace often acts as something of a mother figure towards Gabriel, though it's never quite clear if she actually wants to "tame" him or simply sand down a few of his rough edges. Gabriel is certainly receptive to the things she says and appreciates the hard work she puts in for him — and yet the clear sexual tension between the two of them goes unresolved. Proof that you can have two characters of the opposite sex to one another without them ending up in a predictable love scene.

Angel (Buffy, Angel)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its spin-off series Angel remain two of my favourite TV shows of all time. David Boreanaz's brooding vampire Angel appears in both, but really comes into his own when he gets his own series.

It would have been easy for Whedon and the gang to leave Angel as your stereotypical brooding vampire, haunted by his past and trying to make amends for deeds that can never be forgiven. And indeed for many of his appearances early in Buffy, he's little more than that, providing a convenient "forbidden love" interest for Buffy while allowing the show to explore some traditional vampire themes.

In Angel, however, he cuts loose and we get to see him for who he really is. Sure, he broods and spends a lot of time sitting in the dark — something that is regularly commented upon by his companions — but he also does a fine line in completely deadpan one-liners.

Also, this.

Incidentally, a comment on that YouTube video reads thus: "I always thought Angel was a ponce in the first three season of Buffy…then He moved to L.A. L.A. changes people."

Damn right.

Toshino Kyouko (Yuru Yuri)

If there's one reason to watch Yuru Yuri, which I believe I have already extolled the virtues of on several occasions, it is Toshino Kyoko.

Kyoko, as you can probably tell from the image above, does not give a shit what people think of her, and she's immensely entertaining as a result. She's often the instigator of the various scrapes the group gets into, and her hyperactivity is a big part of what gives the show so much energy. Part of her appeal comes from the fact that her blonde-haired, blue-eyed appearance sets her up to be "the pretty one" and she then subverts stereotypical expectations completely with her wild and crazy behaviour.

At the same time, though, she's a dedicated friend and companion, and the whole "possibly unrequited love" thing going on between her and the huggably tsundere student council vice president Ayano (whom I also considered including on this list, but settled on making her my Facebook avatar instead) is another big draw for those who enjoy seeing blushing anime girls simpering at one another and then denying their feelings vehemently. I-It's not like Ayano wants to spend every waking moment with Kyoko or anything, after all! Idiot!

Seiko (Corpse Party)

Seiko was one of my favourite characters from Corpse Party, a game with an incredibly well-defined and interesting cast all round. The best thing about Seiko, though, was how self-consciously "not girly" she was. She's open, honest, brash, crass and, a bit like Kyoko, does not give a damn what people think of her. At the same time, she's cheerful and does her best to keep the people around her in high spirits, even as they are trapped in a horrifying, terrifying situation from which there appears to be no escape.

It becomes clear after only spending a short amount of time with her in the game that she has a number of deep bonds with her friends — particularly with the character Naomi, for whom it's rather strongly implied that she's harbouring romantic and/or sexual feelings.

To say too much more about Seiko would probably be to spoil Corpse Party more than I'm willing to, but suffice to say that she's a definite highlight of the game. And, oh look! Corpse Party is half-price on the PlayStation Store (PSP and Vita) right now. You should go and buy it if you have a Sony handheld, otherwise I'm not sure we can be friends any more.

Polgara (Belgariad, Malloreon)

David Eddings' Belgariad and Malloreon series are rather traditional pulp fantasy novels in many ways, but a few aspects of them cause me to remember them fondly — and I've even re-read the whole set of books several times, which is not something I normally do.

One of these aspects is Polgara the sorceress. For those unfamiliar with Eddings' epics, they follow a relatively traditional pattern in which an unassuming young farmhand named Garion gradually gathers a party of various ne'er-do-wells and, through various combinations of circumstances — spoiler! — becomes incredibly powerful, battles against an evil god and wins.

One of Garion's constant companions throughout the entire series is his "Aunt Pol," who has been a constant presence in his life since childhood. It transpires that "Pol" is actually Polgara, a four thousand year old sorceress and daughter of Belgarath, sorcerer of legend and he who recovered the mystical artifact The Orb of Aldur from — look, let's just say he's Kind of a Big Deal, all right?

The reason Polgara is interesting is not because she's a kick-ass sorceress, though, it's the fact that she's a very well fleshed-out character with a hell of a lot of hidden depth. Garion learning the truth behind her heritage in the Belgariad is just the tip of the iceberg — Eddings went on to publish two additional books known as Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress which explained the ancient magicians' history in exhaustive detail, giving the entire world in which the two series were set an extremely strong feeling of being a "real" — or at least believable — place. Polgara and Belgarath's constant presence throughout the world's history give you something to latch on to as millenia tick by in the pages of the books — and yet both of them remain entertainingly "human" despite their obvious… non-humanness.

____

That was fun. I'll do this again sometimes soon. I won't ask what your favourite characters are, because no-one ever replies when I end a blog post with a question. I'll just say good night and leave it at that!

 

 

1008: Three Wishes

My mind regularly wanders, particularly when I'm trying to get to sleep, and often delves into the territory of rather predictable fantasies. No, not that kind of fantasy — well, not all the time, anyway — but rather the sort of fantasies that tend to provoke conversations in the pub or at the end of a house party. Things like "what superpowers would you like to have?" or "what would you do if you had three wishes?"

I've always found the idea of three wishes a fascinating one, ever since I first heard various genie-toting tales from the Arabian Nights and the subsequent primary school "I wish I had three more wishes" jokes. I've never quite managed to come up with a definitive answer as to what my three would be. The closest I've come is determining that I'd probably have two "practical" ones, one of which is usually ensuring that my body is in perfect physical condition — because, well, if you have the opportunity, you might as well ensure you're in full working order, right? (And also I'm fed up with having an itchy scalp. TMI? Fuck off.) The second practical one is often ensuring I'm in a situation where I don't have to worry about money. (This fantasy came up considerably more frequently while I was out of work, as you might expect.)

It's the third wish I often spend a long time pondering, though. I figure once I've done the vaguely responsible thing and wished for things that ensure my affairs are in order, I can cut loose with the third one. (Of course, I could also set the genie free with my third wish, but where's the fun in that?)

Several recurring possibilities usually enter my mind for this third wish. They probably say something about me. Please do not read too much into them. (Or do. I don't care. You can do what you want.)

My first possible third wish (you're following, right?) is the ability to "do magic". Perhaps as a side-effect of my love of role-playing games, every time I imagine requesting this wish I picture the genie bringing up what essentially amounts to a character creation interface and inviting me to pick my spells. The magic I end up choosing usually ends up being of the elemental variety. Thinking about it, I'm not entirely sure why I pick this, because if there's one thing that probably isn't that useful in everyday modern society, it's elemental magic. Whatever role-playing games might tell us, there are not monsters wandering around outside every town, problems cannot always be solved by setting fire to people who disagree with you and broken machinery cannot be repaired simply by calling down a thunderbolt on it. (In fact, some might say that usually has the opposite effect to repairing it.)

My second possible third wish is that my car would become a VTOL flying vehicle powered by anti-gravity technology which is physically impossible — so far as we know, anyway. Or it might be magic, given that said car doesn't usually require any fuel. This is a fairly self-explanatory wish usually provoked by the fact I've been stuck in a traffic jam at some point during the day and inevitably found myself picturing what it might be like if my car could just rise up off the ground and fly over all the frustrated motorists beneath me. It would be awesome. Don't say it wouldn't be, because you would be wrong.

My third possible third wish is the ability to switch bodies with someone — usually a person of the opposite sex who has absolutely nothing to do with my normal life and who possibly exists outside of normal space and time. This is pure curiosity, and come on, who hasn't wondered about how "the other side" lives? Different times I've had this particular fantasy have varied slightly — sometimes the other person simply ceases to exist when my consciousness isn't present in her; other times she goes about her normal life and simply switches places with me willingly; sometimes she's an empty vessel (like a robot body) built to hold my consciousness; other times, she is me in a parallel dimension and I am actually both people, I'm simply only aware of one at a time; other times still, the change comes without warning at unexpected moments. (The latter situation, I've recently discovered, is the plot hook of the anime Kokoro Connect, so naturally I've immediately started watching it.) My motivation for this wish is simply to see what it would be like living another life that is completely different to my own — opposite in almost every respect.

A variation on that third possible wish is to gain the ability to shapeshift. When I picture this wish, my imagination usually puts some surprisingly conservative limitations on my power. I can usually only shapeshift for a limited amount of time, meaning that I can't just stick in another form — I'll just change back to my real self after a set period of time has elapsed. I'm usually only limited to changing into other human forms, as well — no turning into, say, a xylophone or a fridge for me. It's enough to have a similar experience to the "body-swapping" wish, though — I get to try out what it's like to be someone completely different for a little while.

Obviously, I know all of these will never come true so it's a completely moot point. But I wonder, if the opportunity did arise, which one I'd actually choose when the time came?

1007: Battle of the Cards

I've made my distaste for the growing trend for Japanese "card-battling" mobile-social games well-known on these pages a number of times in the past, but I've been growing increasingly conscious of the fact that I must be missing something. After all, these titles consistently show up in the Top Grossing charts on both Android and iOS, so there must be something to them that keeps people playing and, indeed, spending.

The other day, I reviewed a new mobile game from Zynga called Ayakashi: Ghost Guild. Before I go any further, let me explain something about the way Zynga does business for those who have always given their titles a wide berth for whatever reason.

Zynga behave very much like Apple do, in that they're not trendsetters — or perhaps more accurately, they're rarely the first to try something, as they're both often the ones to make something popular. What both companies are inclined to do is hang back, watch and wait to see what early adopters of new technology and systems are doing. What is proving popular? What are users ignoring? What are the potential pitfalls in doing something new, and can they be avoided?

Once they've done this, they'll swoop in with something fundamentally very similar to that which has come before, but polished to a fine sheen. Zynga's games are rarely, if ever, original, but it's hard to deny that they often have a significantly higher degree of polish than many other games that may have gotten there first. Similarly, Apple's work on iOS frequently lags behind Android in terms of features — a frequent criticism in the interminably tedious fanboy wars — but when said features hit, they tend to be implemented very well. (Of course, there are exceptions in both cases, but these patterns are noticeable enough to be worth commenting on.)

Anyway, I digress; Ayakashi: Ghost Guild is a card-battling title from Zynga, and it follows the outline above to the letter. It's clear that the specific developers behind it have examined what makes early trailblazers tick — many of which, like the inexplicably popular Rage of Bahamut, are very rough around the edges — and then given the whole set of proceedings a pleasing coat of paint. Where Rage of Bahamut is silent throughout, Ayakashi: Ghost Guild has an atmospheric, context-sensitive soundtrack; where Rage of Bahamut's story is completely throwaway and irrelevant, delivered via blocks of text that most players will ignore completely, Ayakashi: Ghost Guild makes an effort to introduce characters and an unfolding narrative with first-person visual novel-style scenes; where Rage of Bahamut's interface resembles a Geocities website from the late '90s… Ayakashi: Ghost Guild's interface resembles a Geocities website from the late '90s designed by someone who owns a copy of Photoshop. (You can't have everything.)

The thing that I've found most obnoxious about these games in the past is their seeming total lack of gameplay. But have I been giving them a fair shot? I have delved into Ayakashi in some detail over the past few days in an attempt to try and understand the appeal a little better, and I'm still not quite sure that I've made my mind up.

For those who haven't played one of these games before, allow me to give you a rundown of how play works, with specific regard to Ayakashi. You start by picking a card, usually from one of three different types that have particular strengths and weaknesses. Cards have an attack rating, a defense rating and a "spirit" value. They also generally have some lovely (and usually rather boob-heavy) Japanese-style artwork on them. Ayakashi: Ghost Guild does not disappoint in any of these regards.

Following this, there are two main components to gameplay — the single-player component, referred to in Ayakashi as the "Story" mode; and the multiplayer component, described simply as "Battle" mode.

In Story mode, you're presented with a series of linear chapters to work through. To work through a chapter in Ayakashi (and, indeed, in all other games of this type) you simply press a button. At this point, several things happen: an animation plays, you lose some health, you gain some experience and you gain some progress in the chapter. Occasionally you will discover an item or a card — each chapter usually has a set number of hidden items which are clearly marked and discovered completely by chance — or run into another player, at which point you can add them to your "crew" if you have enough slots left. If you fill up the chapter's progress bar, you're given a story scene and can then move on — or stay behind if you want to try and collect the remaining items — and if you fill up the experience bar, you gain a level, gain some points to spend on your basic stats and refill your health to full. Your first few levels give you more health than is needed to level up a single time; after you reach about level 8 or 9, however, you'll either have to wait for health to regenerate (at the rate of 1 point per minute) or purchase restorative items using "Gold", a currency which may only be acquired through in-app purchases. Generally speaking, health is exchanged for experience at a 1:1 ratio; as the story progresses, the health cost and related experience gain for a single press of the "Investigate" button increases.

When levelling up, you have three stats to power up: health, which upgrades the amount in your health pool, allowing you to play Story mode for longer; Attack Spirit, which determines the cards you can hold in your "attack deck" for Battle mode; and Defense Spirit, which determines the cards you can hold in your "defense deck" to protect yourself against attacks from other players when you're not there.

Battle mode consists of you picking an opponent and then letting your attack deck compete against your opponent's defense deck. Some cards have special abilities which boost their base attack and/or defense power, and these are triggered at the start of battle. Following this, the winner is automatically determined with no interaction required from the players. This allows battles to unfold without both players having to be present. After a battle, your available Attack Spirit is depleted by the spirit value of the cards you used, meaning at least initially you can only do one battle at most in a single session if you use your most powerful cards — and why wouldn't you?

There's a reason to play Battle mode in Ayakashi — the collection of Sealstones. If you collect all of the colours of a particular Sealstone set, you'll get a rare card that is usually significantly more powerful than the ones you just find naturally in Story mode. Beat another player in Battle mode and you get to steal one of the Sealstones they have — but naturally, others will be trying to do the same thing to you, meaning you'll have to leave a strong defense deck behind in order to ensure they don't get nicked while you're not playing. You can also, you guessed it, buy special items with that in-app purchase currency Gold to protect your Sealstones against being half-inched by randoms.

Despite being a massively-multiplayer game, direct interaction between players in Ayakashi is, like most other games of its type, very limited. You can add a limited number of other players to your "crew", with the limit increasing as you level up. When you add a new crew member, you get more ability points — more than when you level up, in fact. You then have the option of "poking" or commenting at them once per day, and are rewarded with "Summon Points" for doing so. Collect ten Summon Points and you can get a free, usually shit, card. You can also get two additional free, usually shit, cards per day — one at any time, the other only at lunchtime.

Those free, usually shit, cards have a use, though — fusion. By picking a card to enhance and then choosing up to ten "material" cards to fuse with it, you can level it up, which increases both its attack and defense power and often makes any special abilities it has more effective, too. Some free, usually shit, cards are specifically designed purely for fusion purposes as they are otherwise terrible but provide massive experience point boosts; in other cases, ensuring you fuse cards of the same "type" (ideally identical ones) together nets you the biggest bonuses. Fusion costs in-game money to perform, though it's the type of money you can earn in the game very easily without having to spend real cash — the game bombards you with it throughout Story mode and you can sell those free, usually shit, cards you've been building up over time.

That's about it. You grind through Story mode, stopping when you run out of health (or until you purchase more if you just can't wait); you twat another player or two in the face to nick something, then you set the game down for a few hours and come back later. Then you repeat the process.

Is that fun? I'm honestly not sure. There is a certain degree of satisfaction to gradually levelling things up and making them more powerful — progress bars are, as we all know, a powerful motivational tool. The fact that Ayakashi has actually made an effort with its story makes it considerably more interesting than most games in this oversaturated genre, too. But the lack of interaction bugs me somewhat; if I'm supposed to be "investigating" a location, I'd like to be actually doing that investigating, not just tapping an "Investigate" button over and over again. If I'm fighting an opponent, I'd like to do more than simply sit back and let the battle resolve itself.

On the other hand, there's an argument that all Ayakashi and its numerous competitors are providing is the same experience you'd get from a "proper" MMO, albeit stripped down to its most bare essentials. What do people like to do in MMOs? Level up, so make that easy. What else do people like to do in MMOs? Compete against other players, so make that easy too. What these games are in effect doing is stripping down the conventions of MMOs into something that is a lot more friendly to mobile gamers' lifestyles — you can pick up Ayakashi for five minutes and "accomplish" something, whereas to do the same in, say, World of Warcraft or Guild Wars 2 takes a lot longer. But in that longer amount of time, you actually get to do stuff.

As I say, after having spent a bit of time with Ayakashi in particular, I find myself a little conflicted. With Rage of Bahamut, I felt justified in my dislike; it's a poorly put-together, amateurish effort that actually felt quite insulting to play. With Ayakashi, meanwhile, Zynga has taken the time to do its usual spit-and-polish routine to make something that isn't outright embarrassing to play from a presentation perspective. I'm just not entirely sure there's a game worth playing — much less paying for — beneath the glitz.

I will feel even more conflicted when the Persona 4 card-battling game eventually makes it to Western app stores.

1006: Far, Far Away

It may be shocking to some to hear this given how much of a massive nerd I am in almost every other respect, but I'll just come out and say it: I've come to the conclusion that I've never really cared for Star Wars.

I'm sorry. I just don't. I've seen all of them several times — including the original trilogy in their original, un-messed-around-with incarnations — and I just struggle to get excited about it. I never wanted to be Luke Skywalker, I don't give a shit whether Han shot first or not and I always preferred Wing Commander over X-Wing.

Of course, these days it's not uncommon to not give a shit about Star Wars due to the massive oversaturation of the market perpetuated by the Lucas empire, but I'm pretty sure I've felt this way even since before the prequels came out. I'm not sure what it is — whether it's just the fact that it's so pervasive in geek culture that I'm just sick of it, or if I actively dislike it. For what it's worth, I don't think it's the latter; I think it's more a sense of indifference and not really feeling like it's worth all the fuss.

Oh, I get why it was a big deal on its original release, of course. I can appreciate that the original trilogy are good films — they're well-structured, reasonably well-paced (they are quite long, though) and stuffed with memorable characters — and I can see what an impact it's had on modern sci-fi. I just can't get excited about the prospect of anything Star Wars-related these days.

It doesn't help, of course, that aspects of the franchise get continually co-opted for completely inappropriate purposes. I knew that I was completely over Star Wars when Yoda started advertising for Vodafone, though I had my suspicions when he appeared in one of the Soul Calibur games. The moment that the marketing people get hold of something that enjoys mainstream (or even niche) popularity, it dies a death. Whatever soul it once had is gone, replaced by that cold-hearted capitalist desire to make cash.

In fact, my only really fond memories of Star Wars include the amateur video production called Yoda's Bar my school friends made with a bunch of Star Wars figures, and the drunken evening I spent after one of our school leaving days sleeping on the floor next to my friend Woody, who was doing what he called "Emperor Farts", which consisted of him doing an impression of Emperor Palpatine and then letting rip with some of the most thunderous flatulence I'd ever heard. (He managed to keep this up for well over an hour; I am still surprised to this day that he didn't shit himself.)

I digress.

I think it's largely the oversaturation issue that gets to me in situations like this, because it's not just Star Wars that I feel this way about. I find myself instinctively starting to dislike anything which I'm constantly bombarded with. It's an automatic response now — I start to see so much of something that I just feel utterly sick of the sight of it, and thus want to take myself as far away as possible from it. Recent things I have felt this way about include Call Me Maybe, Gangnam Style, anything to do with Batman, and the video game Dishonored. The more I see of a thing, the less I want to see of it. Marketing through constant "brand visibility" evidently doesn't work on me.

This instinctive behaviour that I have picked up from somewhere probably accounts for my changing tastes in media consumption — my present fascination with anime, Japanese games and related media falls firmly into the "niche interests" category and consequently is not prone to the "JUST SHUT UP ABOUT IT FOR FIVE MINUTES!" problem that I'm describing here. Ironically, of course, I'm happy to talk about all of the above things with like-minded people for hours on end and never get sick of them.

I don't particularly think that feeling this way is a problem per se — everyone should be free to pursue their own tastes and interests — but as I posted the other day, it can sometimes lead to feelings of isolation. I occasionally think I should make more of an effort to try and engage with things that are otherwise popular, but then I just think to myself "no, why should I? I have plenty of things that I'm interested in to keep me busy and entertained; I don't need the stuff that everyone else is talking about."

I just end up with fewer people to talk about my interests with. But eh. 'Twas ever thus for those mysterious creatures known as geeks, nerds, whatever you want to call us. And the fortunate side-effect of the smaller numbers of people who are into more "niche" things is that the people who are into those things are, more often than not, infinitely more passionate about their interests than those who are following the herd. I'll take passion and enthusiasm over conformity any day.

1005: Easygoing Lilies

Well, as I suspected might happen when I wrote my first post on the subject of Yuru YuriI appear to have become mildly addicted to the thoroughly silly adventures of the Amusement Club.

For those who missed aforementioned post and are too lazy to click on the link and see what I'm talking about, Yuru Yuri is a show about lesbian schoolgirls. No, not like that. That is basically what it is, though. (A show about lesbian schoolgirls, not porn.) It's a show that features an all-girl cast where homosexual feelings towards one another are the norm rather than the exception — rather refreshingly, the show regards same-sex feelings of attraction and love as just something that happens rather than something that is in any way "shocking" or out of the ordinary. It's not a show that's trying to push a particular agenda on its viewers, in short — certain members of the cast feel certain ways towards one another, and they just happen to be girls. Which is cool with me.

After a little while, this simply becomes something you accept in the world of Yuru Yuri, and you are then able to focus on the real highlight of the show — the characters. This is not a show where anything earth-shatteringly important happens, you see; no-one is struggling with Big Issues, no-one is feeling a sense of guilt over their sexuality, no-one suffers anything other than the most temporary setbacks (and then usually only for laughs) and no-one gets hurt in anything more than the most ridiculous slapstick fashion — we're in the territory of comedy "bumps" popping out of people's heads here, which is something I don't think I've seen since I was a kid.

But no; there are no Big Issues to come to terms with, which lets the characters shine simply by being themselves. It's an excellent and diverse cast made up of an interesting mix of established tropes and characters who subvert said tropes nicely.

Chinatsu, Akari, Yui and Kyoko, the four girls who make up the school's "Amusement Club" pictured above, are the main stars, with Akari ostensibly being the "protagonist". Akari's main distinguishing feature is that there is absolutely nothing remarkable about her whatsoever, however, which tends to lead her being the butt of many episodes' jokes as she gets left behind entirely or, in some cases, ends up turning completely invisible due to her lack of presence. She is endearing and entertaining in her own right, however, and despite the show's joking insistence that she is not worth focusing on, she's sweet and cute. She also has the most terrifyingly creepy siscon older sister I've ever seen, too — in one particularly hilarious and memorable (if weird as fuck) scene, said sister settles in for a comfortable evening home alone, clutching her Akari body pillow which she's dressed in one of Akari's uniforms, and wearing a pair of Akari's knickers on her head. It's a gloriously uncomfortable scene, particularly when Akari comes home early and her sister only just manages to hide the evidence of her misdeeds.

Yui, meanwhile, is "the sensible one", and a bit of a tomboy. She's the sort of character who rarely smiles and is quite softly-spoken. In many ways, she's the mother figure of the group, as she lives by herself and puts up with the others — particularly Kyoko — invading her home and demanding food. Yui sometimes seems to be a bit of a "blank slate", but occasionally we get a glimpse of her humanity through her getting into a video game or playing with her younger relative Mari. Yui is also particularly skilled in dealing with Kyoko, regularly shutting down her often-incoherent hyperactive rants with just a single word.

Chinatsu is the exact opposite of Yui. A lively, energetic young girl with bright pink frizzy hair in bunches, Chinatsu is carrying a rather large torch for Yui and will do anything to try and get closer to her. While she is initially presented as a sweet, innocent, shy girl, it becomes very apparent very quickly that Chinatsu can be aggressive, grumpy, mean and a bit of a bully at times — though she's not particularly good at any of those things, often leaving her looking rather ridiculous. She's also terrible at drawing, creating pictures that look like something out of a particularly unpleasant horror movie.

Kyoko is the clear highlight of the show, however. Kyoko does not give a shit what anyone thinks and just does what she feels like. She clearly has some sort of attention-deficit disorder, and is usually hyperactive. Despite this, however, she is fiercely loyal to her friends and clearly values her time with the group. She's also caring and considerate, and is also the most obviously "gifted" of the group — not only is she a talented (and respected) doujinshi manga artist, but she's also able to score full marks on almost every test she takes with minimum effort, much to the chagrin of her rival Ayano. She's also mildly obsessed with Chinatsu's unbearable cuteness, and takes every opportunity to find an excuse to make her cosplay as "Witch Girl Mirakurun", to whom Chinatsu bears an uncanny resemblance even when out of costume.

Although these four make up the main cast, the secondary characters are all interesting and entertaining too, particularly in the second season, where they each get much more of a chance to shine. We have the aforementioned tsundere student council vice-president Ayano, who likes Kyoko but would never admit it; her best friend Chitose, who has a habit of getting nosebleeds as a result of perverted thoughts about Ayano and Kyoko getting together every time she takes her glasses off — and also goes on a kissing rampage any time she ingests chocolate; and the ever-entertaining duo of rivals Sakurako and Himawari who are absolute polar opposites in almost every way but clearly care deeply for one another. Sakurako is extremely childish, aggressive, demanding, hot-headed and flat-chested; Himawari is mature, motherly, firm but fair and in possession of a fine pair of breasts which Sakurako is quite understandably very jealous of.

The way these girls interact with one another and play together is the reason to watch Yuru Yuri. You can get to the end of an episode and realise that absolutely nothing happened beyond "some girls hung out together" — but that despite this, you still had an entertaining experience. It's one of those experiences where you feel like you're "friends" with the characters and that you're getting the opportunity to just chill out and hang around with them. It's not a show that's going to slap you around the face with The Feels on a regular basis, nor does it ever claim it's going to be, but for something that's just plain fun to watch, I think it's going to be hard to beat.

1004: Thwarting The Fall

I finished Persona 3 FES: The Journey this evening, something I've been meaning to do for a very long time and finally got around to. Persona 3 remains one of my favourite games of all time, and the additions to The Journey — the story told in the original version of Persona 3 — are very welcome, offering deeper insight into the characters as well as some good old-fashioned fanservice.

Persona 3's biggest strength is also one of the reasons why I imagine an awful lot of people won't finish it: its length. Having played The Last Story earlier this year, I'm very much of the opinion that JRPGs don't have to be incredibly long to be tell satisfying stories, but in the case of Persona 3 and its sequel, both of which are somewhere in the region of 85-100 hours in length, I can't help but think that a lot of the respective stories' impact would be lost if they decided to reign things in a bit and keep them snappy.

Persona 3, for those who haven't played it, takes place over the course of a school year in Japan. You start in April, increasing amounts of Bad Shit comes to pass as the year progresses and you eventually finish either on New Year's Eve with a bad ending or on January 31st with a good ending. And you're expected to play through all the days in between, with only a couple of exceptions.

A day in Persona 3 typically consists of getting up, going to school (assuming it's a school day), perhaps answering a question or two in class, hanging out with friends after school then either going dungeon-crawling, studying or socialising in the evening. The format occasionally gets shaken up with public holidays (and Sundays) when you don't have school to worry about, and there's a couple of trips out of the game's main Japanese town setting at specific points in the story, but for the most part you are living the life of a Japanese teenager, albeit one who fights monsters after midnight.

It's a long, slow slog through the game's days, in short, but it's only through dealing with this that you truly come to respect the sacrifices the game's main cast has made in the name of trying to build a better world and beat back the darkness. Sometimes you really want to hang out with that hot girl who seems to have taken an interest in you, but instead you know that you should go shopping with the nice policeman who sells you various sharp implements, then go climbing the mysterious tower that appears after midnight and start twatting some Shadows in the face. Having to find this optimum "work-life balance" means that the time you do actually get to spend with your in-game friends becomes more precious — particularly as each of the "Social Link" stories that is attached to each person ends up being interesting and often emotional.

By the time you reach the game's final battle, you have been through Hell and back with these characters, both in terms of having to cope with the everyday stresses of teenage life — exams, angst, friendship drama — and in having fought your way through hordes of Shadows to strengthen your party. By the time the final boss appears, you are ready to kick some ass and save the world.

And then the final boss fight takes somewhere in the region of an hour to complete. The game isn't going to let you win so easily. It's not an especially difficult fight if you've prepared appropriately, but it is long — a test of endurance… and of whether or not you remembered to stock up on items before wandering into the dungeon. It's not boring, though — it's paced in such a way that it shakes things up regularly, requiring you to change and adapt your strategies accordingly, particularly as you get closer and closer to final victory. By the time you finally take down the boss and get onto the "home straight", as it were — and there's actually a surprising amount still to see even after you've kicked its ass — you are physically and mentally exhausted, just like the characters, and the game knows this, hitting you with some intensely emotional scenes while you're weakened.

Persona 3, then, uses its length to its advantage. While there is plenty of stuff in there that is clearly designed to allow masochistic players to inflate their play time yet further (I didn't beat the Reaper, for example, and I seriously doubt I will ever seelet alone beat the "Ultimate Opponent" secret boss that only appears in New Game+) for the most part, it's good stuff that allows you to immerse yourself in the small but very well-realised game world. You're either doing teenagery things, or you're fighting Shadows. Fight too many Shadows and you'll exhaust yourself, meaning you'll need to make sure you get some rest before you do anything strenuous — but while you recover, all your friends are waiting for you.

There's always something to do and someone to see, and meanwhile the clock is ticking ever-onwards towards an inevitable conclusion. As time passes, everyone's life goes on — even the incidental NPCs sitting around in various locations all have their own stories to tell that progress gradually as the seasons turn. Will the shy girl ever talk to the boy she's stalking? Will the girl who's obsessed with Mitsuru ever confess her feelings? Will the elementary school student at the station ever stop being a jerk to her obviously-nervous new teacher?

"Bonds of people are the true power," runs the tagline to the Persona 4 anime, and it's right. Both Persona 3 and 4 are what they are because of the people in their respective game worlds. After 80+ hours with them, it's difficult to not feel a sense of attachment to them — even the most seemingly-innocuous incidental character. This sense of "belonging", of immersion in a game world with realistic, believable characters — that, right there is why I love these games so much.

On to The Answer next, which I know nothing about beyond the fact it's supposedly very difficult and wraps up the ambiguities left by The Journey's ending. I'm very intrigued to see how it concludes for real, so doubtless you can expect another post on the subject after another 20 hours of gameplay or so.