The Proper Venue

Nukezilla's Editor in Chief, John Kershaw, made a great post yesterday about confronting the discriminiation (sexism, racism, and ableism are the ones he mentioned, though homophobia in the community is an issue as well) in the world of gaming.

In response to arguments that defend objectification and dehumanization (yes, that includes jokes about rape), Kershaw says:
The arguments usually boil down to the point that it’s all “just the way [men are] wired”. It’s an argument used to uphold the patriarchy, it’s also mostly bullshit. Men are also “wired” to shit squatting, but somehow we’ve managed to rise above that.
 Kershaw's exactly right. Men (and even women at times) don't realize they're falling into sexist territory. By blaming it on the way you're programmed to act, men are only trying to weasel away from the blame.

An article Kershaw references also draws upon that point. Game designer Nicole Leffel wrote a guest editorial to Kotaku in which she wrote about a moment at a recent game design conference:
Blame Japan. And, well, why not? It's easier to imagine that vicious cultural problems are solely the product of some Over There place halfway around the world. Within the same minute Killian made another joke, this time dismissing the gratuitously sexualized camera angles used for female characters as a sign of improving technology. Again, the crowd laughed.
Kotaku has surprised me. I normally go to them for the usual in gaming news, but here are posts about problems within the gaming community. It's a pleasant surprise. And yet for both of these guest editorials from Latoya Peterson and Denis Farr, comments have been missing the point. On multiple occasions, I've seen people say Kotaku isn't the proper venue for discussing issues within the gaming community. But those issues are just as newsworthy as any rumor or hype Kotaku publishes.

Another week, another Persona: Episode 4


As much as I love this series, and as much as I love watching the new episode every week, the pacing for this show is getting too predictable. One of the many great parts of the game was the immense amount of freedom coupled with the immense number of things to do. Yeahhh, you're supposed to save Yukiko. But come on--there's a soccer club! And you have your cute baby cousin and her not exactly responsible father to deal with. Where's the parts where Dojima starts getting suspicious of the main character's involvement in the murders case?

This is obviously easier to pull off in a game where you're largely controlling the pacing. In an anime, the pacing is set--you can't change it. And so now we're four episodes in. Four of the characters have personas, the new audience doesn't really understand the larger picture of this series, and so far the pacing has been static. In each episode, they run around fighting monsters, one of them obtains a persona, and they go home.

Fortunately, that should change with next week's episode. Several weeks will pass before the next attempted murder and this should give Yu Narukami a chance to start working on those social links! However, there's the chance of it feeling like a filler episode.

As much as I'm complaining, I do really enjoy this show. I just wonder if it's really bringing in new fans. If I hadn't played Persona 4 before, I would be a little lost and not entirely motivated to continue watching the show. And I have one more gripe.


What is up with the animation sometimes? (Click on the picture to truly see the fantastic quality of the animation.)

Though, I do like the added touch of the back of the Arcana card below Chie's feet. It's a nice addition.

As I mentioned last week, Persona 4 the Animation is doing a good job of bringing fresh content to the show. It's true to the storyline, but also includes helpful backstories so that we can understand the characters better. I understood the caged bird symbolism in the game, but we never actually knew that Yukiko kept a bird in her room because she wanted something else to be unable to escape.

Yes, suffer like I always have...

This week was largely about Yukiko--and to a lesser extent, Chie. Chie is one of my favorite characters from the game (my most favorite being Naoto--who I hope many others will love in the future), so I love the attention she's getting. Chie and Yukiko have been friends since they were kids (as evident by last week's episode) and their screentime was important for episodes 3 and 4. Their problems concerned the other--and the problems exacerbated because they didn't tell each other about them.

 

 And, as always, hipster glasses!


And...not quite hipster glasses.

Replay value

I recently finished my second playthrough of Persona 3 Portable, which I first played as the male protagonist so that I could get a feel for the original game. So, six months pass and I have no new games to play. I figured it'd be fun to play as the female protagonist.

And believe me, playing as the female was much more fun. Female harems are so old--building a male one was entertaining. I'm tired of seeing female characters constantly blush and fumble over their words when in love because I feel it simplifies us into these submissive, bashful girls that have traditionally been the norm because that's what was expected. Some of the males were awkward (I'm looking at you, Akihiko) and some were flirtatious from the start (oh, hello there, Ryoji). I constantly laughed and awwww'd.

 Persona 3 Portable: Finally making harems fun for girls.

The female protagonist version added many social links other than the guys. As a boy, you couldn't start social links with your male friends, but as a girl you can become "besties" with your fellow females. (I suggest hanging out with Fuuka. You get to make stuff at cooking club that you can then use to aid you in building your male harem.) But more than anything, I'm glad ATLUS included the Koromaru social link.

Koromaru joins the team after his master at the shrine passes away. Koromaru defends the place and the team realizes he can summon a Persona. You can take him for walks as a male, but you really bond with him as a girl. As an animal-lover, I loved this idea. I've bonded with every animal I've come in contact with for more than a couple days. Having a pet dog is much more than simply taking him for walks and feeding him. And Koromaru isn't like any other dog--the team correctly considers him their equal. The social link with Koromaru could be better developed (I wanted to learn more about his old master), but it was touching.

No one leaves out Koromaru.

These additions are what make P3P's replayability so great. I wouldn't say it's on the level that I think the replay value of Tales of Xillia will have, but replaying this game was not a waste of time. I bashed my head against the wall during the Tartarus parts (I rarely felt motivated to go there; it's not like you're regularly saving people you know like in Persona 4), so these new social links were what made me go into "fangirl mode."

RPGs need character development; that's why I love them so much. Getting that extra bit of background and growth during social links is what makes the Persona games memorable.

And if you're motivated enough, you might want to play the game a third or fourth time in order to get all of those social links you missed. There's no way to do it all from the start.

Seek A Way Out: 9 Hours 9 Persons 9 Doors

It's the morning after my escape from death onboard the Gigantic. I'm tired, confused, but--more than anything--I'm blown away.

9 Hours 9 Persons 9 Doors is a game with two parts visual novel, one part suspense, and one part horror. The game places you in the role of Junpei, a college student who finds himself onboard a ship in a locked room.

Oh, and he's going to drown thanks to the water flowing through the busted window if he doesn't get out soon.


Junpei is one of nine people onboard a ship that is set to sink into the ocean in nine hours. Their kidnapper, a person in a gas mask identified only as Zero, tells them that they must find a door with a "9" on it to escape. But things go awry quickly. A group of people in danger of death will not remain calm. Some will blatantly refuse to go along with the kidnapper says. Others will insist on doing as told in order to reach freedom. Some are old, some are young, some are brutish, some are demure. Among these clash of personalities is Junpei. You decide which doors he goes through, as well as the actions he makes and the things he says. The smallest of things given to you, as well as the strangest conversations, are all important in the end. You won't know which doors will lead you to safety and you won't know which characters are controlling everything. If you don't play by the rules, your body's not going to remain in one piece.

 Talk about a strange cast of characters.

Think of this game as the choose your adventure books from elementary school, but there's gore, tragedy, telepathy, and conspiracies. 999 has six possible endings, three of them leading to your brutal murder. One abruptly ends because you didn't gather the necessary information to continue and another ends in tragedy and confusion. That particular ending gives you a lot of necessary information for the final "true" ending, but don't write off the other endings--they also help fill in the blanks of the story, as well as give answers to "What if I hadn't had that conversation with her?" "What if I hadn't accepted that from him?" And because of those six endings, this game has obvious replay value. The story doesn't make sense if you don't listen to all of the conversations with different characters. Granted, hearing the same things over and over gets old quickly, so the developers allow you to speed through dialogue you've already encountered and it automatically stops as soon as you come across new dialogue. (Unfortunately, you will have to redo puzzles several times, so keep a pencil and paper with you. You'll be able to memorize some of the puzzles after one or two times.)

999 is all about solving puzzles in life or death situations, putting forth the idea that your true potential emerges when you are in a true emergency. Some of the puzzles are difficult and close to impossible for those of us who weren't blessed with logical reasoning and mathematical skills. For some things, you just need to explore the environment and keep clicking on the screen until you find something. But other puzzles require you to input a series of numbers from clues. This game is obsessed with digital roots and base-10, so you'd best listen when they explain concepts you never came across in algebra class. If you're like me, you won't be able to solve some of the puzzles, much less figure out how to flush the toilets through one of the doors. Do your best to solve them on your own, but don't feel too defeated if you have to look up answers. After all, we're not the ones with our lives on the line.
Don't even joke about that, Snake.
Though, this game does make you feel like you're on the ship with them, especially when playing at night with the lights off and the headphones in. The music sets the mood and changes with the atmosphere of the situation. At times it will suddenly crescendo and at other times it will disappear completely. You can see the change in characters and after a playthrough or two, you can predict what's going to happen next--or who's going to kill you next. Because you are directly interacting with the environment through Junpei's eyes, it's almost as if you were there in his place. There's a great deal of suspension of belief the game can put you through. Add some mystery in there, and it's already more convincing than most horror movies. You try going to sleep right after dying. The flash of red on the screen and the sudden sound of a knife piercing flesh won't leave your mind.

 (I did mention that this game is rated M, right?)

My only real complaint with this game is the idea of the group having 9 hours. While they're chaotic at first and just talk for a while, you can understand why they can't figure out what to do at first. But by the time they only have 1 hour left, characters go off on long-winded stories instead of worrying about their time limit. If I were Junpei, I would have punched them all in the face and then forced them to help me solve puzzles instead of telling me their life stories. These are all important things to the overall plot, but I would have liked to see a greater sense of urgency in the characters' attitudes.

Um...don't you think we should be a little more concerned with living long enough to hear Elvis's songs again?

 This game is largely text-based. It reads like a novel--vivid imagery accompanying the stills on the top screen of the DS, and you see Junpei's innermost thoughts and feelings. Some of it is hard to read, but you can't simply stop. So you continue reading about the chunks of flesh that were once a body just 81 seconds ago. If you don't like reading and thinking, don't get this game. And if you don't like excellent point and click games (such as the Ace Attorney games, Professor Layton, Trace Memory, or Time Hollow), don't bother. But if you love chilling, tragic stories that make sense by the time you finish, you won't want to put this game down.


Take my word for it. Seek a door with a 9.

A Lesson in Macro-Management

(My apologies for the late post. Anime Boston had me very busy and then I had the delight of finals right after that and then moving back home.)

About a year ago I walked into Gamestop and started browsing. I have a natural bias for RPGs and anime-style graphics, so I tend to take those games off of the shelf to get a closer look. I found Atelier Annie for the Nintendo DS during this trip and--on a whim--I bought it. I had never heard of the Atelier games before and wasn't even sure what kind of alchemy I would be doing (Fullmetal Alchemist changed my perspective on alchemy).

And then fast forward a year to the present when my finals are over. I'm bored in my dorm room with most of my things packed and most of my games finished. I pulled out Atelier Annie and decided I'd give it a chance.


Annie is the lazy granddaughter of a skilled and famous alchemist. One night when her grandfather is sick of her shenanigans, he ships her off--in her sleep--to a remote island to learn alchemy from a fairy. Before long, she finds herself a contestant in a alchemy contest that will span three years. She has no interest until the king mentions that whoever wins the contest will marry his son or daughter. Cue Annie's love for handsome boys and an even greater love for rich, handsome boys. With her new motivation, she sets out to become the greatest alchemist of Sera Island.

 Ladies and gentleman, our protagonist.

This game may span three years of Annie's life, but time passes quickly. It unfortunately does not take very long to finish, but the quick passing of days keeps you on your toes as you have several deadlines to meet. Your ultimate goal in addition to creating items for the competition is to create a fabulous resort for the island, including building and improving attractions such as a park, bakery, or beach. You also have your own shop's reputation to keep in mind. By taking on requests and jobs, you increase your alchemy skill and can improve your fame.

Fighting is also a feature in Atelier Annie. Two more people can join your party to protect you from monsters as you go out to places to gather materials for synthesis. The fighting is simple and straightforward, but could use a few tweaks to make it more challenging.

You'll also be fighting monsters that resemble a colorful Japanese dessert.

This game is more about management than leveling up and fighting monsters--and that's a good thing. You can blindly pick up a game from the shelf and chances are that you'll be spending a great amount of time focusing on fighting. And then several other games that stray away from fighting monsters are either childish or have a different aim entirely (Animal Crossing, Nintendogs, puzzle games, etc.). Atelier Annie challenges you to multi-task: collecting materials for several tasks at once, planning your travels so that you don't waste time, knowing which requests to ignore and which ones to take. Everything you do is an element of both time and money, both of which do not grow on trees.

The dialogue is all in the original Japanese, but it was translated for the localization. You meet several characters who just make Annie's life more frustrating, but they're definitely...characters. Love them or hate them, they make Atelier Annie funny. Sometimes their dialogue becomes pointless and only made me forget what I was about to do, but you can skip the unnecessary parts by pressing the Y button.

Atelier Annie isn't a fantastic game, but it's better than you would expect. If you like games that force you to think--and if you're into economics and management--you should give it or the other Atelier games a try.

Kill Your Friends. It's okay, Dokapon wants you to.

Parents got you playing stupid games for board game night? Tired of rehashed Mario Party games? World of Warcraft is stressing you out? Grab a copy of Dokapon Kingdom, a little unknown gem in the party game genre.

It's a cute game with substandard graphics, but it's also a couple years old. You begin the game by selecting a character, customizing it with a name, choosing a gender, color, and class. Only basic classes are available in the beginning--limiting yourself to warrior, mage, and thief--but you can change your class during the game and once you've mastered a class, you can move on to a better one.

From the start, it doesn't look like anything special. You spin to see how many spaces you get to move in that turn and depending on which space you land on, you can win an item, piece of equipment, receive an event, or fight--both monsters and your fellow players. The King has summoned all adventurers to journey across the land to give him money and rescue towns. (But mostly give him money.)


Dokapon Kingdom, for both the Wii and the PS2, mixes elements of MMORPGs, fantasy, and of course, party games. Marketing itself as the friendship-killing game, you and up to three friends (or computer players) engage in a battle for money, liberation, and marriage to the Princess Peach look-a-like.

In reality, it's a game about capitalism and imperialism.

Fighting is deceptively basic. You have a list of four commands that you can use and they change depending on whether you're attacking or defending. It looks simple, but it's actually a difficult game of chance. By shuffling and picking from two cards, you don't have a guarantee of striking first, and in some instances you can only win if you attack before your opponent does. There are times when the wisest move is to give up the fight in order to live.

But the most fun--or most frustrating--part of Dokapon is the endless opportunities to destroy your friends. If your friends aren't the type to forgive you for doing something to them in a game, I wouldn't recommend playing with them. But if you hate those friends anyway, hey--why the hell not? Dokapon's just trying to help end your friendships that can't withstand some road bumps! Challenge your friends to battles when they're least prepared, steal their towns, change their names, draw on their faces, kill them for a bounty, make a comeback from last place and destroy everyone--the possibilities really are endless. And when a game is as long as Dokapon Kingdom is, you've got plenty of chances to piss off your friends.

 What's a little hatred between friends?

The Freshness of Pokemon Black and White

It looks just like all the others--a choice of a starter Fire, Water, or Grass-type Pokemon. A team of bad guys. Rivals. The same 8 gym structure. Similar Pokemon with different names lying in the grass.

But that little comparison does not give the game the justice it deserves. It's true Pokemon seems to have a very distinct formula that never changes in any generation, but if this fifth generation has to have one thing working in its favor, it's the plot.

Remember when we all joked about the rampant animal abuse in Pokemon?


Well, these moral issues of enslaving animals to make them fight each other have finally been addressed--by the "evil" guys of Black and White. They are Team Plasma and they're a fresh change from the evildoers like Team Rocket, Team Magma/Aqua, and Team Galactic. While Plasma does steal Pokemon, they're instead a radical group crusading for Pokemon's rights. They believe that only by releasing Pokemon and separating from their trainers, the Pokemon will be free. The leader of this organization, known only as N, blocks your path with philosophy.

He ain't too bad on the eyes, either.

You have to step back and really consider whether you're treating your Pokemon right. Do they deserve to be trapped only for us to use when we choose? Or do trainers bond with their Pokemon? Will a separation actually change anything? Every trainer has to consider why they have Pokemon and even N falters. He's a welcome addition to the Pokemon universe because he is actually interesting and has layers unlike most Pokemon characters.

Your rivals unfortunately are not as developed. Cheren runs after you only to fight. Winning is an evaluation of his self-worth and because you keep beating him--if you want to move on, that is--he spouts out angsty teenage crap. (And not the attractive kind that we enjoy in anime and games--just the annoying kind.) He might as well fall to his knees and curse himself for ever being born. He is that upset after each battle. He changes that attitude by the end, but it happens off screen. From one scene he's angsty over his loss and the next he's vowed to capture Team Plasma and help you.

Bianca has the potential to be a strong female character, but falls short. She admits that she's not very good at Pokemon battles, realizing that she can instead help Pokemon in her own way. Unfortunately, she ends up needing your help most of the time. She's essentially a dumb blonde and I only forgive Nintendo for this because they gave us such a cool-looking female main character.

She's bringing '80s hair back.

This game, while seeming quick to me after finishing it in a week, had a harder difficulty. I found myself actually stocking up on potions and needing to use strategy. Your opponents have some level of intelligence; they make informed decisions. If you send out an electric type against whatever Pokemon they have, if it knows a ground move, they will use it. And you will curse under your breath. Not every battle is difficult, but the ones that matter are.

Gracing the Pokemon stage are also new battles. Triple battles are just like double battles except the Pokemon on the far left cannot hit the one of the far right and vice versa. Unfortunately, there are few occurrences of this in the game. There are also rotation battles, which are also three-on-three. Instead, one Pokemon at a time fight and you're able to rotate one of the other two in at any time to fight. Unfortunately, these battles don't seem much different from regular battles.

If I had to take one thing out of Pokemon Black/White, I'd rip out the musicals. As a girl who loves a good song and beautiful people singing it, the idea of Pokemon on a stage dancing around and singing sounded fantastic. I wondered how Pokemon moves would be incorporated into it, just like the contests. However, the musicals are a useless gimmick. There's no competition involved, no rankings, and no singing. One of your Pokemon dances on a stage with props that you have and you're able to use those props to appeal to the audience. When the show ends, that's it. You receive a few compliments from the audience and the occasional prop to keep for future musicals.

And then you run far away and tell yourself that you'll never do that again.

The musicals had wasted potential. Had they had some form of competition like the contests from the earlier games, I'd still be running to Nimbasa city to make my Pokemon dance around in funny outfits.

Overall, Pokemon Black/White is fresh material. While some things still need to be improved, this generation brought us the first story in fifteen years that made me think. Pokemon is about engaging the audience and letting them choose how they want to play, whether it be to fight and be the best or to catch 'em all, and for the first time we had to consider ethics in a fictional world.

Maybe next time we'll see Officer Jenny arresting trainers for dog fights.

Pokemon: This One's For All the Parents Out There

It's a boring story. A child becomes attached to a game or a show. That child may collect the trading cards and become engrossed in the fictional universe that is that show or game. The parents of the child say, "You may love _____ now, but just wait until you're 20!"

Because there's nothing strange about sending 10-year-olds off on their own in the woods...with an electric mouse.


Guess what?

I'm 20. And I still love Pokemon.

I can't blame my parents. The show was nothing fantastic--but the first season will always hold a special place in my heart--and the games are practically recycled every generation. With the fifth generation upon us in the U.S. tomorrow, can anyone really say it's that different from the first?

But what's wrong with that? Not every game needs to try something new to make it work. Some parts of a series should never change. There are different versions of Link in every Zelda game, but he's still Link. Mario's never going to get any taller and Princess Peach may never cease her worthlessness. Rather than sticking to the same characters, Pokemon sticks to the same foundation because that very foundation is its stable core. I can find no reason to fault them with that. Pokemon is successful because people enjoy finding the right Pokemon for them. Why fix something that isn't broken?

That said, I appreciate the changes that are in Pokemon. I remember when I first learned of the Pokegear in Gold and Silver or the ability to choose a female character in Crystal. These additions are what strengthen the already strong core. However, I have yet to see a new feature that has captured my interest as well as the first Pokegear did. I vividly remember late nights in the backseat of the car as my family drove home from vacations in the Poccanos. With the only light in the car coming from my Gameboy Color and attachable light, I played the radio on the Pokegear while training my Eevee to evolve into an Umbreon. The light drumming of the Poke March on the radio lured pokemon closer. My parents tuned out my music to the car radio and my sister had already fallen asleep. It was just me, that Pokegear, and my Pokemon team. As I get farther into Pokemon Black, I expect to enjoy myself in the dark corners of Black City. Perhaps this generation's use of wireless interactivity will actually try something new. Maybe I'm an anti-social gamer, but this has failed to capture my attention in the past. I hope something new comes out of it this time.

Of course, my goals today in Pokemon have changed. I have no intention of catching every Pokemon these days. I'm no longer the seven-year-old playing Pokemon Blue, going after Mewtwo in Cerulean Cave. I'm not even the thirteen-year-old reliving the first generation through my copy of Fire Red.

I hope both old and new fans, those both young and experienced, enjoy their copies of Black and White tomorrow. I know I'll be smiling as soon as I choose my Oshawott.

Because derps make me happy.


In the words of my sister, "You'll still be playing Pokemon when you're 40." I look forward to the next 20 inevitable years of Pokemon.

How Super Smash Bros. Helped Me

Ahh, the sweet feeling of cartoony characters pushing each other off of buildings into moving vehicles. This is a series that never gets old and it's my favorite fighting game (I don't do well with memorizing button sequences for special moves).

I sat here for a few minutes, realizing that I hadn't thought of what to write about this week. Then I remembered that I played Super Smash Bros. Melee last night with some friends for my post-birthday-dinner.





I was in the fifth grade when I first discovered this series. Super Smash Bros. was on the Nintendo 64, a console that I had asked for my birthday or Christmas. A part of the reason I wanted that system so badly was Super Smash Bros. (the other part was Pokemon). I went to a friend's house after school one day and he introduced me to the game. I wasn't very good at it then and I think he mercifully let me play on his team while I got used to the controls. (This is much nicer than what I do--a quick crash course on how to play and then I throw them into the game. Just ask my dad.) Back then my character of choice was Mario. the graphics were rather blocky and geometric, but I thought it was the best thing I had ever seen.

After a long time of playing Super Smash Bros., I got a Gamecube with my sister and bought Super Smash Bros. Melee, my favorite game so far in the series. It was a revamped version with some new characters and new stages. I moved on from Mario to Fox to Link, who is now my default pick. I played this game religiously and I still revisit it. I gradually worked up to fight Master Hand and Crazy Hand on the most difficult levels and I trained against level 9, the highest difficult setting, computer players. When this got too easy, I asked friends to come over and we played 3-on-1. These fights trained me to think faster and react as quickly as possible. Using the C-stick to fight became cheating for me and I instead chose to do things that took more skill. I trained for a few weeks, trying to hone my skills enough to dodge by rolling next to people or dodging in mid-air.

These 3-on-1 fights also taught me how to be humble. I've had a competitive spirit since I was young. I had to realize that sometimes I couldn't win every battle. Occasionally I messed up. Maybe I should have used my hookshot instead of the spinning move. Or I should have reacted faster when someone was about to knock me out. When I was young, I took every mistake personally. Unfortunately, I also chose to turn my frustration on others and I got angry at them in addition to getting angry at myself. The harder matches forced me not only to be modest, but still proud, about my winning streaks, but also to congratulate others when they beat me.

Me at 6 years old.

Then Super Smash Bros. Brawl came out for the Wii. I still have a hard time with the controls since they were changed. They weren't as fluid as they were in its predecessor. They changed the weight of some characters, as well as their speed. Link was no longer my speedy warrior--I had to change to Pit. Some of the new features were fun: the 1-player mode had a storyline, characters had awesome smashes via the smash ball, fights over that smash ball make the game hilarious, and the graphics improved tremendously.

The great thing about Super Smash Bros. is that it never gets old. I love games like Soul Calibur, Guilty Gear, and Tekken--and I still need to find a copy of BlazBlue--but I can only play them for so long before I get bored. One-on-one fights can only be fun and challenging for so long. It's the massive chaos on the field that demands your full attention and hones yourself not to think, but just do. React to those around you and use their weaknesses and strengths.

And you've got to bet that I never forget how a person plays after I've fought them.

This post has been Sonic approved.