2418: The Bonds of True Friendship

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As someone who, for the most part, tends to put narrative concerns front and centre when considering what to entertain himself with, it probably won’t surprise you to hear that the main thing that draws me to my favourite genre of video game — RPGs — is not the stat-crunching mechanical goodness that goes on behind the scenes (though good mechanics can make a game I’m already emotionally invested in even more satisfying) but the almost overwhelming sense of camaraderie and “all being in it together” that a good ensemble cast brings to the table.

When considering narrative tropes, this sense of comradeship is regarded as “true companions” or sometimes nakama, from a Japanese word that translates to “friend” or “comrade”. Indeed, if you turn the Japanese voices on in many JRPGs, you’ll hear the word nakama used pretty liberally when characters are talking about their friends and travelling companions in the party; it’s a contrast to another Japanese term referring to friendship, tomodachi, which is typically used when talking about friends in a more social, casual manner. To put it crudely, your nakama friends are the ones who travel with you, who will go to the ends of the earth with you, the ones who are closer than family; your tomodachi friends are the ones you go down the pub with once or twice a month and talk about girls or football.

This sense of true companionship is, for me, what defines a great RPG story, and it’s a big part of why I find solitary experiences like Skyrim and Fallout — which, mechanically at least, ought to be right up my alley — so fundamentally unsatisfying: you don’t get that sense of being part of a group of people with complex and interesting relationships.

So with that in mind, I thought I’d share some of my favourite ensemble casts from the past few years. You can probably guess at least one of them.

Neptune and the gang

Yup, you were right! The biggest thing that keeps me coming back to the Neptunia series time after time — and the thing that kept me persevering with the shaky first game in the series — is the wonderful sense of camaraderie between the characters.

Interestingly, Neptunia’s cast can be split into a few different elements, each of which overlap a little and which all have Neptune as their common element.

First up, you have IF and Compa, who will always have an important place in any Neptunia fan’s heart due to them being pretty much the first characters you have a meaningful conversation with in the series. IF and Compa are friends, but also a study in contrasts; IF is somewhat sullen and tsundere (with a secret otaku side) while Compa is feminine, ditzy and honest. They’re good foils for one another, and with the chaotic personality of Neptune in the middle, just these three make for a good cast by themselves, and indeed a significant portion of the original Hyperdimension Neptunia consisted of just these three core cast members fighting alongside one another.

Then you have the more well-known faces of the series, the CPUs Blanc, Noire and Vert. These were introduced in the original Hyperdimension Neptunia almost as antagonistic characters, but over time their personalities have softened somewhat, and the four of them (including Neptune) have become very close friends with one another. Once again, they work as a group because of how they contrast with one another. Noire is determined and driven to a fault, but secretly wishes for close friendships; Vert likes to play the older sister but in many ways is one of the most immature of the group, often disappearing for days at a time to indulge in her hobbies rather than doing her job; Blanc, meanwhile, despite her youthful appearance, seems calm and mature until something — it doesn’t take much — attracts her ire, at which point she becomes a devastating force of fury.

mk2 onwards introduced the sisters of the CPUs to the series, and again, they made heavy use of contrast to make them stand out from one another. Neptune’s sister Nepgear, for example, is the opposite of Neptune in almost every way: she’s smart where Neptune is dim; she’s articulate where Neptune tends to let her mouth run away with herself; yet she’s timid where Neptune is (over)confident. Blanc’s twin sisters Rom and Rom contrast both with each other and with Blanc, with Rom being quiet and shy, while Ram is loud and rambunctious. And Noire’s sister Uni, in her own way, contrasts with the rest of the group altogether by actually being similar to her sister — a little too similar at times, so closely does she follow in her sister’s footsteps.

All together, you have a substantial ensemble cast with a variety of contrasting character types. They often clash with one another, as contrasting personalities tend to do, but their shared hardships and common goals bring them together time after time. The particularly dark mk2/Re;Birth2 story is arguably the catalyst for their closeness, thanks to the especially unpleasant events that occur therein, but by now their relationship has grown so close that each new Neptunia game feels like being reunited with a group of old friends. It’s a delight.

The Witcher

The Witcher series is an unusual case in that they’re not party-based RPGs, but they nonetheless carry a strong sense of camaraderie, friendship and even romance between their major characters. This is helped along in part by the fact that the games are based on some already extensive pre-existing lore from the original novels, but even if you’re unfamiliar with the source material, The Witcher’s relationships are a real highlight of the whole experience.

For starters, despite protagonist Geralt usually working alone for each of the games, there’s a strong sense of comradeship between him and his fellow School of the Wolf witchers, some of the last remaining witchers in the world. Months or even years can pass between them seeing one another in some instances, but when they do meet up with one another, it’s like no time has passed. The Witcher 3 in particular plays with this delightfully in a scene where Geralt and his witcher buddies get absolutely hammered before going to try on the fancy outfits of sorceress Yennefer, Geralt’s significant other (or onetime squeeze, depending on how you’ve chosen to play that particular subplot out) and play with her megascope. In game terms, it’s utterly irrelevant to the main plot and doesn’t give you any mechanical benefits, but it’s a beautifully captured moment that emphasises the fact that despite the work of witchers typically being solitary, they, too, still have need of the ties of friendship.

Then there are the recurring characters like Dandelion the bard and Zoltan Chivay the, um, dwarf. These characters show up throughout the novels and all three games, and their relationship with Geralt is likewise one of close friendship and trust. Indeed, the bond between Dandelion and Geralt is so seemingly close that all the in-game journal entries tracking your quests are written not from Geralt’s perspective or even that of an omniscient third-person non-participant narrator, but as if Dandelion is narrating Geralt’s tale in the past tense to an eager audience. It’s a nice touch.

The Witcher prides itself on shades of grey, though, and this is true for Geralt’s relationships, too. In The Witcher 3 in particular, Geralt will come into contact with a number of people with whom he’s had dealings in the past, many of whom will seem like unquestionable friends if you’re unfamiliar with their history. Yet depending on the choices you make and Geralt’s subsequent actions, their relationships can take some very surprising — sometimes tragic — turns. The arc with former spymaster Dijkstra in The Witcher 3 is particularly interesting to see play out.

The Witcher, then, definitely has an ensemble cast of the kind I find particularly appealing, even if they’re not all there obediently running along behind Geralt for the whole game. In the case of The Witcher 3 in particular, it’s proof positive that it’s more than possible for the Western open-world RPG to pull off this sense of “true companionship” — even without a persistent party — and that Bethesda should consider trying a bit harder in this regard with future Elder Scrolls and Fallout games.

Tales of Xillia

Two of my favourite RPGs in recent years were Tales of Xillia and its sequel, and the strong ties between the party members in those games are what made those games special for me.

The first Xillia had two overlapping storylines that were mostly identical apart from their very beginning and a significant chunk in the middle. The two protagonists were Jude, a somewhat idealistic young medical student who gets swept up in a series of rather peculiar events, and Milla, a mysterious young woman who claims to be the earthly incarnation of the deity Maxwell.

The journey through the two Xillias is very long, but its epic nature works to its benefit, because it allows us to get to know the two protagonists and the party members they gather around them very well indeed. There’s Jude’s childhood friend Leia, who is clumsy but charming; there’s butler Rowen, who turns out to be a highly regarded former general; there’s the cynical mercenary Alvin who seems like a pleasant enough “big brother” type but is clearly hiding something; and there’s young girl Elize, who captures the feeling of a young girl being alone in the world and finally finding people who understand her perfectly.

Xillia’s cast works because of the game’s frequent use of “skits”, where action stops for a moment and the party members have a quick chat about something. This might be important to the plot, or it might be seemingly irrelevant information, but all of it is essential to the characterisation of the group as a whole. In the first game in particular, Milla is the centrepiece of the group, and we come to understand the world of Rieze Maxia through her eyes, with her party members explaining and supporting her along the way. That said, Milla isn’t a helpless waif by any means; on the contrary, on more than one occasion her companions have to hold her back from getting a little too inappropriate with her explorations of life among the humans.

Xillia 2 takes an unusual step in this day and age by actually being a direct sequel to the first game. All the characters from the original make a reappearance, along with a couple of new ones — just enough to keep it feeling a bit different from the original, while still familiar and recognisable as a continuation of the same story. Interestingly, Xillia 2 introduces a new protagonist named Ludger, and for your first playthrough he’s an almost entirely silent protagonist, his contributions mostly being limited to grunts and gasps. (Calm down.) There is a narrative-related reason for this that I shan’t spoil for you here, but the use of a silent protagonist is also often a way of making the player feel like “they” are in the world rather than just controlling a character who isn’t them.

Regardless of the reasons for his silence, Ludger forms a suitable nucleus for the party in much the same way as Milla did in the first Xillia game, and once again we’re treated to a variety of enjoyable skits on a variety of subjects, both plot-relevant and inconsequential. By the end of the two games, you really feel like you’ve been on a lengthy journey with a group of people who have come to be close friends.

Persona 3 and 4

Shin Megami Tensei purists may thumb their nose at the later installments in the Persona series, but for me the thing that made them special to me is their strong emphasis on the bonds between people.

In both Persona 3 and 4, these bonds take many forms. They might be the bond between the protagonist and a member of an extracurricular club he attends, who gradually grows comfortable enough to open up a bit about their own concerns. Or they might be the bond between party members who come to understand one another as events start spiralling out of control around them.

In Persona 4 this latter case is particularly true, given that the majority of the dungeons are themed around one of the characters confronting their “true self” and admitting something that they would previously rather keep quiet about for one reason or another. The game goes to some surprisingly daring places in terms of subject matter, though it also leaves a few bits and pieces just ambiguous enough for you to come to your own interpretation of what you just witnessed.

Like Xillia, one of the biggest strengths of both Persona 3 and Persona 4 is the sheer amount of time their respective quests take — and the fact that, in both games, you can actually see how much virtual time you’ve spent in the world thanks to the ever-present readout of the in-game date, which also acts as a reminder that each month, you are on a tight deadline to ensure things don’t go horribly wrong for someone you know.

The sheer amount of time you spend with the characters in both Persona 3 and 4 coupled with the game’s setting in a school and its surroundings means that you really come to think of these characters as friends by the end of the game. This makes a relatively minor aspect of Persona 4’s ending, where you leave on a train and see all the people whose lives you touched standing on the platform to see you off, incredibly touching and borderline heartbreaking. It is likely no coincidence that one of the most frequently heard pieces of music on the soundtrack is called Heartbeat, Heartbreak.

The Witch and the Hundred Knight

This is an unusual one in that it’s an action RPG in which you play a distinctly non-human silent protagonist and don’t actually have a party gathered around you at all times, but nonetheless it manages to have that strong sense of “true companions”, with numerous characters who go through significant developmental arcs over the course of the complete narrative.

In The Witch and the Hundred Knight, you play the Hundred Knight, a mythological creature that turned out to be a bit disappointing in the flesh. You were summoned by the witch Metallia, who lives by herself in a swamp and is pretty much a psychopath. Your stated aim at the outset of the game is to spread Metallia’s swamp across the land so she is able to move freely and dominate the world — she can’t go far from her swamp — but over time things become much, much more complex.

The Hundred Knight, despite being the playable protagonist, is in many ways the least important part of the plot, though his actions do serve as the catalyst for most of the major plot beats throughout the narrative. Instead, the story is about Metallia: why she is so angry, why she is so violent — and why she is so sad. The tale itself features some gut-wrenchingly horrible moments to depict Metallia’s seemingly “beyond redemption” status, but her growth as a character across the entire narrative — a process witnessed and helped along by a young cursed noblewoman called Visco, who eventually becomes very important to Metallia — and the three possible finales, none of which can be called particularly “happy”, makes for a game that takes the unusual step of being an outright tragedy in terms of its narrative.

The story works, once again, because of the close bonds between the characters. We see how horrible Metallia is at the beginning of the game, and we see how poorly she treats Visco. But we see how Visco keeps coming back for more, obviously seeing something in Metallia that others don’t, and we see how Metallia, despite continuing to be foul-mouthed and aggressive, softens a little as she realises that she is developing feelings of friendship — arguably more — for this young woman cursed with the face of a dog. I shan’t spoil the “bad” ending (which is actually the most significant ending, despite the game’s terminology) but suffice to say the Metallia at the end of the game is a completely different person from the one at the beginning, and as the Hundred Knight, we’ve been there to see that whole process.

Fairy Fencer F

And perhaps most relevantly, given that I’m still playing through it at the moment, I was delighted to discover that Fairy Fencer F has a wonderful ensemble cast, too — and despite its aesthetic similarities to the Neptunia series thanks to artist Tsunako on character design duty, it has an overall darker tone to its stablemate, allowing for its characters to share hardships and sadness as well as good times with one another.

Like Neptunia, FFF’s cast can be split into a number of components. There’s the core cast of playable characters who centre around protagonist Fang, who is initially lazy and cynical, but later turns out to be far more responsible and caring than he would care to admit. Then each of these characters has a companion fairy, who form a sub-cast of their own who are usually with their human partners, but sometimes get the chance to do things by themselves. Then there’s a cast of villains, too, but without spoiling too much, let’s just say that on the Goddess route, at least — the narrative path that comprised the original Fairy Fencer F, rather than one of the two new ones introduced for the PlayStation 4 version — the lines between “good” and “evil” are frequently blurred to quite a significant degree.

An crucial moment at the midpoint of Fairy Fencer F carries more emotional weight than I’ve ever seen from a Compile Heart game, eschewing the company’s usually breezy comedy and satire — both of which are present in Fairy Fencer F when appropriate, make no mistake — in the name of something truly awful happening as a catalyst for one of the three subsequent divergent narrative paths that follow. This moment only works because of the first half of the game, in which we get to know Fang and his ragtag group of companions very well indeed, and because of its sharp, surprising contrast with what we, the player, had been led to expect would happen at that point in the story.

I haven’t yet seen how things turn out. I can guess, but given that this game has already surprised me more than once with the direction its narrative takes — mostly with regard to how dark it gets at times — I’m not going to believe it until I actually see it. It’s been an enjoyable journey so far, though, so I’m looking forward to seeing how it ends. And then seeing the other two ways in which it ends after that.

1499: Per. So. Na

So, Atlus confirmed today that the four new Persona games — Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth for 3DS, Persona 4 Arena Ultimax for PS3 and 360, Persona 4: Dancing All Night for PlayStation Vita and Persona 5 for PlayStation 3 — are coming to English-speaking territories. And there was, as they say, much rejoicing.

My love of the Persona series is well-documented on these very pages, but I’m particularly pleased the three spinoff titles are all making it West. I’m especially excited about Dancing All Night — as evidenced by yesterday’s post, music games are very much my jam, and Dancing All Night is looking very lovely indeed. I can take or leave Persona 4 Arena Ultimax for now — I’m still yet to beat the first one, though I will get to it eventually — and Persona Q intimidates me a little as someone who is still yet to play an Etrian Odyssey game. But all of them are appealing in one way or another; all of them are games I will play and love.

And then there’s Persona 5, which we know next to nothing about so far. I’m really looking forward to this. The Persona team’s previous game on consoles was Catherine, which turned out to be seriously great — not to mention a hefty challenge — and set a certain level of expectation for what a Persona 5 might look like. I’m thinking cel-shaded visuals interspersed with anime cutscenes, and that same sense of exquisite stylishness that has permeated the series since at least its third installment.

As for the others, I would worry that they’re milking Persona 4 dry were it not for the fact that all the spinoff games featuring the Investigation Team and pals are very different beasts. Of the upcoming titles, only Persona 4 Arena Ultimax is remotely similar to a Persona 4 game we’ve already had — and given that game’s surprisingly visual novel-ish nature, I don’t mind all that much, since it’s the story that’s the important thing, rather than the fighting. (Although competitive players might disagree.)

As for Persona Q and Dancing All Night, though? I can’t wait to give them a try — particularly, as I say, the latter. Rise was adorable in Persona 4, and the opportunity to spend another game in her company as she does what she does best — singing and dancing in an indefatigably cheerful manner — is not something to be passed up, particularly with the prospect of other Persona 4 stars putting in an appearance, too. Yu, Persona 4’s original protagonist, looks particularly fetching strutting his stuff — I very much like how he’s taken on a lot more of his own personality since the original game thanks to spinoff titles and the official anime adaptation.

But sadly we have a fair while to wait before we can get our hands on them. Persona Q and Ultimax aren’t showing up until autumn of this year, and Dancing All Night and Persona 5 are next year. Still, the fact they’re not just around the corner is probably a good thing — gives me time to clear my backlog a bit, not to mention review the several games I’ve got on my plate at the moment!

#oneaday Day 780: Nihon

It’s a big ol’ stereotype for someone who is “into” video games to have an interest in Japan — at least it was, anyway. As popular, mainstream titles have shifted far more towards Western studios with this current console generation, Japan and all things related seem to have been relegated to something of a niche. And that’s absolutely fine, I think, because it means that people like me can explore things like the country’s culture without feeling like they’re jumping on some sort of bandwagon.

I say “explore”. Most of my knowledge of Japanese culture comes from, you guessed it, video games. (That and following J-List on Facebook.) But before dismissing that out of hand, it’s worth noting that many Japanese games do explore and celebrate Japanese culture and traditions in a way that you hardly ever see in Western titles.

I can remember the first game I played in which I was conscious of this: Shenmue on the Dreamcast. I found it interesting that the main character removed his shoes every time he entered his house. Not only was this a pleasing attention to detail, I discovered that this is traditional behaviour. And given that Shenmue was based very much on the idea of creating a realistic, small-scale game world in which to “live” as much as pursue the game’s story, this was just one of many things which initially jarred but started to make sense the more time I spent with them.

The Persona series are notable for this, too. To date, I’ve only played Persona 3 and 4 (and have recently started the first game in the series) but I feel I got a good sense of what it’s like to be a high school kid in Japan — or at least, as close an interpretation as the media will ever give you. I do wonder if the depiction of Japanese schoolkids in anime and video games is akin to the depiction of American “highschoolers” in TV shows and movies like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Clueless.

From these games and numerous others (including Katawa Shoujo which, interestingly, was actually developed by Westerners who clearly had a good understanding of Japanese culture) I’ve picked up all sorts of useless facts (mostly centring around schools) which may come in handy should I ever find myself in Nihon-koku. I know that schools have big shoe racks inside their front doors. I know that kids are expected to join clubs as well as attend classes. I know that traditional festivals with fireworks are A Big Deal, and that boys supposedly go crazy for girls in yukata. Boys also go crazy for girls in hot springs. I know that udon and soba are types of noodles, and that takoyaki is both made from octopus and regarded as a kind of fast food. (I also know that your stats have to be high enough to finish a big beef bowl, but the same could be said for a big-ass steak in the West.) Moving into more esoteric territory, I know that popular supernatural mythology suggests that restless spirits often hold grudges and can do very unpleasant things to people who piss them off.

It strikes me every time I play one of these Japan-centric games (the most recent being Persona and Corpse Party) that it’s rare to see an analogous “learning experience” in Western games. Or is it? Perhaps I’m just too immersed in Western culture on a daily basis to notice; or perhaps Western culture has lost a lot of its traditions over the years, leaving most people free to behave in a manner of their own choosing. Consider what you did when you walked into your house today: did you take your shoes off? The answer is “maybe”, because it wasn’t expected (unless you have a self-decided “shoes off household”) so it was up to you.

We still have plenty of strange traditions of our own, though, mostly, like Japan, surrounding significant festivals. Look at Christmas: we have carol singers, German markets in city centres, mulled wine, mince pies, midnight mass, christingles and all manner of other things. We have very specific rituals in place to celebrate things like birthdays. We cheer when waiting staff drop trays of drinks (though I really wish we wouldn’t), and we have songs for all occasions.

As I think about it further, it’s becoming clearer to me why there’s something of a tendency to see comparatively less traditional culture in Western video games than we do in Japanese ones. It’s to do with subject matter and setting: Japan is very fond of mixing the mundane and the uncanny for dramatic and unexpected effect, whereas in the West we’re rather fond of “hero”-type characters who focus on getting the job done, not pissing around building up his Social Links. This is a generalisation, of course — there are plenty of games that involve a lot of sitting around talking, though even then they tend to be through a self-deprecating lens rather than taking a genuine pride in traditional culture. When was the last time you saw an English character (i.e. someone from England, and not just a character with an English accent) who was not either 1) evil or 2) posh — or sometimes both?

Perhaps there’s no place for traditional culture or ritual in Western video games — or no traditional culture or ritual left in our modern society to even incorporate into a game. That’s fine, of course, though I think it rather sad, in that case, that we have the opportunity to learn a great deal about Japanese culture from their creative output, while any Japanese players exploring the Western body of work will arguably take little from it save “nice architecture”.

Am I wrong? If so, please feel free to share some of your favourite examples of video games that exemplify Western culture, tradition and ritual in the comments — I’d be curious to hear what people think, or even, if they don’t think it’s relevant, why they don’t care.

#oneaday, Day 202: Someone You’re Not

Ever wondered what it’d be like to be someone you’re not? To be able to seamlessly switch yourself from being “you” to being a different persona, depending on the situation?

I’ve been reading The Game by Neil Strauss. For the uninitiated, it’s an incredibly detailed exposé of the world of pickup artists. There are those out there who live by the tenets of this group. And others who believe that Strauss’ story is so much bullshit. But I find the very concept of it interesting, not least for the fact it’s something I don’t think I could do.

The pickup artists (or PUAs, as they call themselves) go into a situation armed with a variety of “openers”, manipulate the conversations using a combination of “negs” (deliberately negative comments), hypnosis, neurolinguistic programming and all manner of other techniques. And, if Strauss is to be believed, many of them enjoy not inconsiderable degrees of success—regardless of the sort of person they “really” are, and regardless of their physical attractiveness.

When I go out, I’m me. I can’t be anyone else. I can’t imagine sidling up to a group of complete strangers at a bar, opening with something like “well, this looks like where the party’s at” and then surreptitiously attempting to manipulate the group and an individual in that group into doing my bidding. I find the concept of it pretty fascinating, though; particularly as I know at least one person who is adept at “playing the game”.

Sometimes I wonder if social situations might be easier if I was able to project a different persona. Those of you who know me know my personality pretty well. But I often feel when I go out into a situation where I’m surrounded by unfamiliar people, or where I’m worried I might make a tit of myself, that I withdraw somewhat. I’ll talk to people if they talk to me, but I often find myself sitting there thinking just that; “I’ll just wait here and if someone wants to talk to me, I’ll let them, but I’m not going to chase down anyone.”

This is social anxiety at work. In some ways, I think that it’s part of me and I’m glad I’m not being a player, hitting on every girl who comes into the bar. But in other ways, I sometimes wish that I could just open up a little bit more and strike up a conversation with a stranger. And by that I mean be the one to initiate the conversation, not wait for someone to come and talk to me or be introduced to me.

I wish that there was an easy way to practice this. But unfortunately, the only way to practice it is to do it. And in nearly thirty years of time on this planet, I still haven’t really got the hang of it.

#oneaday, Day 153: Hopeless Romantic

I watched the finale of The Office for the first time in ages tonight. That’s the original UK version of The Office, for the curious, meaning that the finale was the second part of the series’ Christmas special. I am totally going to spoil the shit out of that episode, so if you’re one of the very few people who haven’t seen it before and care, you might want to skip this post.

The chemistry between Tim and Dawn is the centrepiece of The Office‘s narrative. Everyone remembers David Brent and his stupid Comic Relief dance, but it’s really a story about two people trying desperately to find one another and always seeming to have something in the way.

The tension between Tim and Dawn is built up throughout the course of the show’s two seasons marvellously. The pair of them hang out together a lot, they joke around, they share a mutual love of making office douchebag Gareth’s life a misery and it’s abundantly clear that both of them are completely smitten with one another. And yet neither of them are able to say the words to make it happen. Dawn because she has a fiancé (yes, that is the correct spelling for the male partner, I checked and everything) who is woefully inappropriate for her. Tim because despite his sweet nature, he lacks in self-confidence thanks to his life situation.

In fact, that’s not quite accurate. Throughout the course of the main series, Tim does ask Dawn out twice and she flat out says no. The most heartbreaking of these moments is at the end of the second season where Tim, in the middle of a “talking head” shot, speaking to the “documentary crew” who are supposedly filming the show, tears off his microphone, goes to tell Dawn how he really feels and gets knocked back. The audience don’t hear this exchange, we just see it through a window, partially obscured by a blind. It’s a genuinely heartbreaking moment to witness.

Throughout the series, Dawn in particular makes a point of touching Tim, whether it’s a light brush on the arm, or holding his face tenderly while she gives him a kiss “for Comic Relief”. Whatever she says out loud, her actions say something different, much louder.

So when she returns from Florida in the Christmas special, some years after the original two seasons, it’s clear that Tim still has feelings for her and wishes things had gone differently. Yet throughout the course of the two finale episodes, it becomes clear that Tim has no idea how to go about dealing with this situation, particularly as the fiancé is still on the scene and never far away from Dawn during their time together.

In what appears to be their final moment together, I really feel for Tim. He is talking to Dawn, clearly struggling for what to say. He does a big and obviously fake cough at one point, and stares after her as she leaves, looking around the office, obviously completely crushed inside but not wanting to show it at all.

And then a little while later, the real ending happens. Dawn, riding in the back seat of a taxi, her fiancé asleep in the front, opens her “Secret Santa” present, which it transpires is an incredibly thoughtful gift from Tim. It moves her to tears.

We cut back to Tim, who is still at the office’s Christmas party, obviously trying to have a good time and not really succeeding, when Dawn reappears unexpectedly, grabs him and kisses him. It’s such a beautiful moment and a wonderful feeling of “resolution” for the series. A genuinely happy ending.

In the meantime, while all this is happening, we’ve also seen the comically tragic figure of David Brent growing as a person more in the space of half an hour than he managed in three years thanks to a special someone. By the end of the whole thing, we have felt sympathy for someone who initially seemed to be odious and annoying; and we have felt hope for his redemption.

In short, the whole thing is a fine example of how to do a finale perfectly. Wrap up every little loose end and make it very clear that “This. Is. The. End.” And that doesn’t have to mean a main character dying, or the world ending, or anything like that. A simple resolution of the threads that have been running throughout the series is all that’s needed for a satisfying conclusion.

I love this ending for several reasons. Firstly, I just love a happy ending. Secondly, I feel for Tim, and Dawn for that matter. I’ve experienced the situation they’ve been in and know how difficult it can be, and how wonderful those few tiny little gestures can feel. To see two people who obviously deserve to be together finally get together is utterly heartwarming and never fails to bring a smile to my face. And it ends there – we don’t need to see “what happens next”, whether it works out, any of that – that’s the end of their story.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I am a sucker for a happy ending. Particularly a romantic happy ending.

There’s some games that have done this sort of thing well, too. The Persona series is particularly good at it thanks to the Social Link system that runs through the last two entries in the series. Each Social Link is a complete story in and of itself, with the player’s character being someone who is there for someone else during a period of change, growth or hardship. With the games centred on teenage life in Japan, sometimes this is as simple as a character growing up and learning something about themselves. At other times, it is about a burgeoning romance. At others still, it is about someone accepting a fate which is coming for them, like a terminal illness. But by far the most satisfying thing about those games was not necessarily reaching the end (though the endings to both are awesome) but reaching the resolution of these little mini-stories throughout. Seeing other people brought to a state of happiness by the actions (or simple presence) of another is a good feeling, and Persona, like The Office, plays on that pleasant feeling beautifully.

Did I seriously just compare Persona to The Office? That’s late-night writing for you. Oh well. There you have it!

#oneaday, Day 139: Multimedia Extravaganza

It is indeed a multimedia extravaganza for you today as I share with you both pictures and sound! I even share them both at the same time! That’s pretty exciting, isn’t it. Admit it. You’re a little excited right now at the prospect of pictures and sound at the same time. If you’re not, you’re either lying, or dead inside.

Err, anyway. Today was another one of those beautiful sunny days so, not having anything better to do and not having anyone to share it with, I decided to head out into the sunshine with my camera and take some pictures around the city. Turns out Southampton is actually not a bad-looking city in the sunshine. The city centre has an awful lot of green space, with about five parks all right next to each other. One of them was hosting some sort of arts festival today – there was live music, craft stalls and somewhere, apparently, workshops on things like drawing and making things.

I always find it interesting how wandering around with a camera makes you notice little things more. A flower with a bee on it, for example. If I didn’t have a camera in my hand, I wouldn’t have given that a second thought. But because “ooh, that makes a good photo”, it gets noticed. It’s also immensely annoying if you spot something that will make a good photo and you then miss the opportunity. I didn’t have this problem much today. I even managed to get the bee.

I present to you, then, a YouTube video of some pictures from around Southampton. They’re a fairly random selection, to be honest, and not necessarily particularly characteristic of the city itself. But they’re things that my eye was drawn to today and thus up came the camera, click click, boom. Wait, not “boom”. That’s something else. The music in the video is the theme from Final Fantasy VII, played by me. Oh yes indeedy.

Yes, as well as taking those pictures, I also recorded a few more pieces for your delectation. Four today, in fact. Here they are. As usual, iPhone users should tap on the titles to hear them, while everyone else can use the Flash player and be smug twats about it.

Alone from Persona 4

Living with Determination from Persona 3

Final Fantasy VII Theme

Eyes on Me from Final Fantasy VIII

That’s not quite my normal 500 words, I know. But I gave you multimedia. So I think you can let me off 80 words or so. Except by the time I’ve finished justifying my lack of words I’ll probably have hit 500 words anyway. So I may as well keep going. I hope you all had a pleasant day. I did, although it was rather quiet. Still, it’s nice to have quiet days sometimes, isn’t it? Means you don’t have to fill them with meaningless conversations and attempts to fill spaces that words should go in. Like this one that I’m filling right now. Oh yes. There’s 500 words. Time to go.

Hope you enjoy the slideshow and music. Let me know what you think in the comments.

#oneaday, Day 136: Massive Pianist

Some more music for you today as it’s awfully late and I feel like I’ve been busy all day today, even though the only thing I achieved in the daytime was to buy two shirts which actually look good on me. Oh, and record these two pieces, of course.

A bit of background on these pieces for those who aren’t familiar with them. Final Fantasy has been a big part of my life for many years – at least since Final Fantasy VII came out. I believe I’ve talked about the fond memories I have associated with this game in the past – the long, hot summer days, the thirty-six hour playing stint which culminated with my friend Woody and I suffering strange hallucinations of items that didn’t exist in the game – but the thing that’s stuck with me longer than the game itself is its music. FFVII was the first time I really noticed game music as a positive thing and, just to make this even more clichéd, it was One Winged Angel which impressed me the most.

After playing FFVII to death, I tracked down the previous games in the series, which I’d never experienced before, not really knowing what an RPG was before that point. I discovered that they, too, had great music, and not only that, there were piano arrangements available.

After a considerable amount of time searching, I managed to track down some dodgy scans of the piano scores for IV, V and VI. Later, I acquired genuine copies of the VII, VIII and IX books. The arrangements of the pieces are gorgeous – proper piano arrangements in a variety of styles rather than simple transcriptions. I’ve been playing them ever since and everyone seems to think that they’re very “me”.

Persona is a bit different. I came to Persona with the third game in the series a year or two back thanks to the Squadron of Shame. We even did a podcast about it. What struck nearly all of us about that series was its peculiarly quirky and enormously Japanese soundtrack. I was very interested to discover earlier this year that both Persona 3 and Persona 4 have piano scores available too. Unfortunately, they’re not nearly as well-arranged as the Final Fantasy scores, but they certainly sound good enough – for some pieces at least. The J-hip-hop tracks don’t sound particularly good on a piano, so there is no way I am ever playing any of them in public.

Much like Final Fantasy, the Persona games hold a very fond place in my heart. Rather than having memories attached to them, though, I found the stories of both games to be very emotionally resonant. I identified a great deal with many of the characters, as Persona deals a lot with friendships, personal identity and figuring out who you are, both in yourself and in relation to other people. While I can’t point a fake gun at my head and summon a mythical beast to do my bidding, I do at least understand what some of the characters have been through, and empathise with others. It’s rare that a game is written well enough for that to happen, so both games hold a special place in my heart.

Without further ado, then, here’s two more pieces for your delectation. Just like last time, iPhone users can click on the titles to hear the tracks.

*pauses* I wish I’d remembered to upload these tracks before I started writing this. *drums fingers* Tra la la la la…

Aha! They’re done. Here. *Enjoy* the *sauce*. And yes, I know there’s a couple of bum notes. I was in a hurry. 🙂

The Oath from Final Fantasy VIII

Heaven from Persona 4

#oneaday, Day 134: Busy Days

Hello everyone! Apologies for the late hour. It’s been a genuinely busy day today, despite it being a Bank Holiday (or Memorial Day if you want to be all American about it).

My day started with waking up several times, snoozing my alarm and then waking up again. The last snooze inexplicably went on a lot longer than the other ones so I had a minor panic when I woke up the last time, because I actually needed to get up today.

Why? I hear you ask. Well, today was my first performance in public for ages. What? I hear you ask. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been playing the piano for quite a long time now. Since the age of five, in fact. Which makes it… a long time that I’ve been playing. I haven’t performed in public for quite a while, though, and my friend Sam assures me that he’d never heard me play in public before. I’m convinced otherwise, but he’s very insistent on this matter. I know he certainly didn’t see the last piano performance I did at university, which was a duet performance with one of the strangest people I’ve ever had the curious fortune to encounter in my life that was followed with one of the most memorable and terrifyingly inappropriate pub conversations I’ve ever experienced. Those who know who I’m talking about also know what the conversation was about. Those who don’t… well, I feel it would be improper for me to discuss it here. Unless you really want to know, in which case leave me a comment and I’ll tell you there.

So today was my first performance in public for ages. We’ve established that.

What did you play? I hear you ask. Demanding, aren’t we? Perhaps you should stop asking so many questions and let me get on with my story because it’s entirely possible I might have been about to tell you what I played. In fact, I’m half-tempted to just not tell you now.

Except that would make this blog entry run rather short and not allow me to include the lovely media that I’m about to. So I’ll tell you.

A few years back, I discovered the Final Fantasy Piano Collections and managed to acquire most of them. Some of them I have the actual books of. The older ones I managed to track down some scans from the Internet. More recently, I managed to locate some piano scores for the music from Persona 3 and Persona 4. These respective series have some of my favourite music of all time, so I figured a public performance would be a good opportunity to spread the love and let other people know what they’re all about. So that’s what I did.

The event itself was part of Southampton’s “Keys to the City” event, celebrating local arts and the piano in particular. Today’s performance took place in the city’s art gallery, tucked away on one side of the Civic Centre near the library. I got the impression not many people know about it. But there’s a lovely Steinway piano there which has clearly been crying out to be used for some time, so my friend and ex-colleague Stephen McCleery of Retrograde Recordings helped to organise an event to give it a bit of attention.

Here’s three of the pieces I performed. I’ll be recording the others over the next few days, so there’s a few posts ready to go if I’m short of inspiration!

If you’re reading this on an iPhone, don’t get pissy about the Flash audio players not working. I’ve been good enough to supply direct links to the files. Just click on the title. I’m good to you people. Not every blog would do that, you know.

Anyway… enjoy. More to come over the next few days.

Main Theme from Persona 4

Prologue from Final Fantasy

Velvet Room from Persona 3

SquadCast: Persona 3

It’s the first of our irregular special side-mission podcasts today as we explore the world of teenagers pointing guns at their heads, the tarot and giant penises riding chariots. Yes, you read that correctly. Persona 3 is an incredibly long game – too long, perhaps, for a Squad main mission, so those of us who have played, finished (or “almost” finished) it decided to get together for a chat and a chin-stroke.

This podcast also features Beige and Pishu’s report from PAX 08, our regular Personal Piles of Shame section and selections from the soundtrack of the game.

Featuring: Chris “RocGaude” Whittington, Mark “Beige” Whiting, Chris “Papapishu” Person and Pete “Angry_Jedi” Davison.

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