February 3, 2013

Random RPG Rant




So, only being behind by a couple of years, I've finally finished Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep. First of all, it was awesome. Definitely was worth playing. Now I've officially played all the Kingdom Hearts games. I've beaten almost every one except Chain of Memories, but then again, I've always been terrible with card-based battle systems. Phantasy Star Online Episode 3 was terribly disappointing for me, as you could imagine.

I remember first hearing Simple and Clean in the commercials for the first Kingdom Hearts, and being a boy who was trying to prove to everyone that he wasn't some weird nerdy kid, I scoffed out loud at the very premise of Kingdom Hearts. But I knew that deep down, I was going to thoroughly enjoy that game. And I did. I beat the hell out of that game. Just never beat Sephiroth, but then again, he was nigh impossible to beat.

Using that as a springboard to segue into the topic I want to talk about, which is Final Fantasy, I'll start with what bugs me: the characters in Kingdom Hearts.

First of all, it's tragic to see Zack in Birth By Sleep. He's looking forward to the world, becoming a hero and all that. But every time I start to feel happy for him I remember how he's inevitably going to end up. Dead. It's like watching Romeo and Juliet, only they die years apart.

"Promise to die a tragic death if I do?"
Second is Sephiroth who, for some reason, is perpetually in some weird mixture of normal and Safer Sephiroth. Safer Sephiroth looked more monstrous and Sephiroth normally looked pretty bishi with a long sword. His character in Final Fantasy VII itself  wasn't quite the embodiment of evil that subsequent portrayals would make him out to be. Remember, for a large part of his life, Cloud wanted to be great like Sephiroth. He just snapped one day after discovering the truth about his origins and then wanted to destroy the world. Hell, I feel like that if someone cuts me off on my way to work. Much less if I discovered that my entire existence was a lie.

But most importantly is the portrayal of Cloud. Everything you see Cloud in after Final Fantasy VII has him as an angst ridden loner who is bitterly torn up about... well, something. I'm not entirely sure what. Either the mind-f*** of his past or the fact that Aerith died. I'm still not clear on why he's moping around so much. But the fact of the matter is he simply isn't like that in his own game. I'm playing Kingdom Hearts Re:Coded and there's a part where you try to get Cloud's help in the Colosseum and he refuses because he can't help anybody or somesuch. He just mopes around and wanders aimlessly like he's about to cry. And all I can think is, 'Is this supposed to be the same guy who cross-dressed to save Tifa from some lecherous thug?'

The part where Cloud was morose in Final Fantasy VII were pretty short compared to the rest of the game. There's a small issue when Aerith dies, since he feels somehow responsible for that. And the fact that he might have been created to be a backup Sephiroth or something. But the feeling in the end of the game is that what happened in the past happened in the past and what happens now is the most important thing of all. He saved the world for a reason and he was feeling pretty damn good about it.
And why the hell wouldn't he? Tifa totally is diggin' on the Cloud.
 For some reason, Cloud has lost all motivation after Final Fantasy VII and has become the most irritatingly angsty character that has ever been created. And it's a damn shame since when I was replaying Final Fantasy VII, I came to realize how much I actually liked Cloud's character. He was pretty gung-ho about everything and handled terrible circumstances surprisingly well. He was upbeat and kind of snarky, in fact.

If he wants to have a reason to be angsty, he should've been in Final Fantasy VI. Then at least he could complain that he didn't save the world.

That's the masterpiece for me as far as Final Fantasies are concerned. Kefka's destruction of the world of order in Final Fantasy VI. Honestly, there was none of this, heroes swoop in at the last minute and save the world thing. No, they're too underpowered and show up just a touch too late and therefore have to defeat the big bad about a year after he's destroyed the world. Kefka is probably the best villain since he actually won. Though I'll admit he had little character depth. When you can describe the entirety of his motivation with three words, "Hate", "Hate", and "HATE" you've made a pretty shallow character. But at least he consistent. He's a mental psychopath who dresses like a clown and is the embodiment of hate and chaos.
...No... The other guy...





October 24, 2012

Scooby-Doo, Where Art Thou?

So, I'd taken a hiatus from writing for awhile. With my new job I suddenly ran out of time to research for potential articles. You see, my research method was just finding a random game, playing it from beginning to end while taking screen caps, and then rant about it later. It seemed to work pretty good, but was a fairly time consuming process. Especially if the game in question was actually pretty good. Then I don't have nearly as much fun picking it apart. Good games are the bane of my existence.  But now I'm back. No word on if it's going to be a recurring thing or not. Kind of depends...

For as long as I can remember, I've always disliked Scooby-Doo. I know, I'm probably weird on this, but I was a pretty clever kid growing up. It was easy to spot recurring themes and patterns and if the phrase, "Jinkies, it's Old Man..." doesn't immediately trigger an almost Pavlovian response, then you probably haven't watched an entire episode. Which is understandable. The show is fairly dull, even with the advent of a talking dog. The person you'd naturally assume is the villain, is the villain. The first half of the show is the 'Gang' bumbling along in two unchangeable groups (Group A is Freddie and Daphne, Group B is Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma) literally stumbling across vital clues strewn haplessly around the old mine/abandoned warehouse/old mill etc. The second half is the rest of the gang (who have already discovered the identity of the villain but keep it to themselves) setting up an elaborate trap to capture the villain, only for Scooby or Shaggy to royally screw things up but have it all accidentally work out anyways. Then there's the dramatic mask reveal where everyone gasps, but then they all ramble off how it all fit together anyways. It always seemed weird to me that four able bodied teenagers and the largest breed of dog come up with the zaniest contraptions a la Rube Goldberg to capture what is, essentially, a very old man in a large costume. Why they don't just wait by the door and then dog pile on him.

I've seen enough episodes to know that there aren't very many deviations to this formula. Even when you add a guest star, all you get are more puns and jokes. Some of which are groan inducing or even sad. Like the episode where the special guest star was Mama Cass, the mystery was set in a candy factory, and 90% of the jokes were about her weight. (Anyone who likes music knows that Mama Cass died from heart failure because of her obesity.) At best, I could appreciate the voice acting and the overuse of the canned laughter. At worst, I'd just change the channel. Even PBS in the middle of the day was better than watching Scooby-Doo in my opinion.

So riddle me this, then, dear reader. Why the hell would I have Scooby-Doo Mystery for the Sega Genesis? I don't remember where I got it from. I know I didn't spend money on it. But there it is. Sitting on the shelf nestled between Road Rash 2 and Phantasy Star III. The compulsive collector in me forbids me from selling it, throwing it away, or turning it into a hipster-ish coaster. So there it sits.

Well, I've been slowly working on a list of games that I own but haven't beaten and unfortunately, Scooby-Doo Mystery is somewhere on that list. Which means I'm somehow obligated to play it. So I plugged in the Sega Genesis, popped in the cart, realized that the Sega Genesis I had plugged in is one of my 'bad' ones that needs to be fixed and unplugged it, grabbed another one from the growing pile of redundant game consoles, plugged that in and began to play.

First thing that I notice is that I can choose between two different mysteries or I could continue. I choose the one on the boardwalk, since carnivals are great fun. Well, now I see that the style of gameplay is the Adventure genre. In the same vein as Maniac Mansion or Secret of Monkey Island. That makes sense, except that I'm playing as Shaggy, the screw-up of the group. I can't really interact with Scooby, my cowardly sidekick, and the actual mystery-solving elements of the 'Gang' are apparently stuck in a boat in the middle of a lake. I assume that the long patch of dialogue I had accidentally skipped during the first few minutes of the game probably explained why the competent teenagers were out in a small dinghy in the middle of the lake at night, but having not read it, I'm left to assume the worst of Fred.

Let's just make this clear right now. Shaggy is the screw-up of the show. He never seems to solve anything. The clues he uncovers aren't understood by him, but rather Velma, when she hasn't lost her glasses. I'm somehow expected to solve a mystery (of what nature, I still don't know) as this poor teenager. I assume that the Mystery Machine is the property of Shaggy, or else there is literally no reason she should be in the group.

Actually, come to think about it, there's no reason for Fred or Daphne to be part of the group either. Daphne is only slightly more competent than Scooby and Shaggy combined and Fred just knows how to find clues by looking instead of tripping. But in reality, it's always Velma who does all the mystery solving. If she just had the self-esteem, she could do the whole thing solo and be on the front of every newspaper and Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. (We all know that she's hiding a rockin' beach bod under that orange turtle-neck.)

Back to the game and I see that I've explored every area and haven't been able to deduce anything about my mission except that listening to the soundtrack isn't crucial to solving the case. (Or at least I hope not, because I ended up muting the game after 5 minutes.)

I fumbled along for about an hour until I went online to read through the walkthrough. (What did I do before GameFAQs?)  I discovered that the game could be beaten in an hour. Which leaves me with the unenviable task of either forcing myself through the rest of the game, or just saying that reading the ending is enough to have completed it...

Well, I'm pretty much just going to boldly say that I finished the game and call it a night, since I just can't seem to force myself to give any more cares about Scooby-Doo.

June 19, 2012

Link to this week's article

As some of you may know, I've been also posting my blog articles on my friend Stevesesy's website thoseguys.tv. Since it's getting to be a hassle to write it once and then re-format all the pictures and captions, I'll just start posting links to the weekly article.

This week's article
Game Design Roulette: Save Points

Enjoy.

June 11, 2012

Stop N Swop's Eternal Mystery

You want bare-bones racing action?!
I never liked this game.

There's something inherently mysterious about the Nintendo 64. Maybe it was because it was the first time I ever saw a game in full 3D. Maybe it was because so many games had tiny little secrets to fill up the extra space they hadn't planned on using. Or maybe it was because we owned at any one time, 3 N64 games and one of them was always Automobili Lamborgini. Probably the last one.

I was somewhere around 8 or 9 when I started to really get into the Nintendo 64, which is handy, because that's about when they started actually filling out their game library. (There were 9 US releases in 1996, the year the system came out...) I've said in other venues that I love older games because of the nostalgia that I felt, and the specifics of that nostalgia were the mystery of an unexplored world. Games like Link to the Past held my attention for so long because it seemed like there was always more to explore. By adding a new dimension to a game, my interest was exponentially peaked. Add on to the fact that I was fairly gullible and the internet was brand new in our house, I was able to extend the replay value of most games far beyond the normal time.


Here's something to consider, and something that I've had to face myself. There are no secrets in video games anymore. By a quick Google search or checking out GameFAQs, you can know every intimate detail of any game within a matter of days after the game's release. I was playing Ocarina of Time 3D on my nephew's 3DS (not owning one myself, mind you) and he gave me a few pointers on how to do some things. First I squelched my instinct to trump him. Yeah, I know that you have to shoot Gohoma with the slingshot. I've done it without a sword on my back! (Incidentally, I can't remember the last time I booted up OoT on the N64 without glitching away my sword...) He told me of a few secret places that, having owned this game for almost 15 years now I already knew. But it surprised me that he knew. He then explained to me that he saw it on Google...

This made me sad because his generation will never know of the wonders of finding secrets by yourself, by some douche-bag kid on the playground named R.J., or by sifting through billions of angelfire webpages to find them.
And I want my Charizard card back!
You asshole, R.J., you don't have ANY industry connections, do you?
I had extra hours of fun looking for cheats, secrets and glitches back when there was no certain, reliable source for game information. All while my brother was yelling at me because we had dial-up and he needed to make a phone call.

These were the codes for the unobtainable.

So, my friend's uncle works for Nintendo and he says that this is totally, real. In order to get the Triforce in Zelda, you have to play Saria's Song on the Fairy Ocarina 999 times and then get to Hyrule Castle by only doing backflips...

Codes like these were everywhere. Some of them, like the one mentioned above, were easily spotted as fake, even to a gullible 9 year old. (But, to my chagrin, I would for years claim that the Debug Code was a fake until PopFiction proved me wrong.) Sometimes they would offer something else, like a new sword, or a different color Epona. The stupidest one was a “secret ending” which more or less implied that Link and Zelda had sex. Which is rediculous, not because Nintendo would never allow something like that to be in one of their games, but because a princess and a common forest boy? Perish the thought!

Now, there was some logical reason that these codes existed, though even to me at 9, I thought was stretching logic a bit. First was that there was a Triforce shape on the Quest screen in the center of all the medalions. (They claimed that that would fill in). Second, in two out of 3 console Zelda games, the main point of the game was to obtain the Triforce. But most damning of all was the Unicorn Fountain picture and the Triforce from the treasure chest picture that Nintendo Power first displayed along with 98 other screenshots of the yet-unreleased Zelda 64. (Along with a beam-sword attack that would get dropped much to my disappointment.)

But while my search for new ways to lengthen my Zelda game play time took me to further horizons of stupidity than a 9 year old should be aware of, there was one game that intrigued my interest well into my adulthood: Banjo-Kazooie.
Her beak says no, but her eyes say yes...
Banjo-Kazooie, for those of you poor unfortunate souls who haven't played it, was the perfect platformer for the N64. The levels were varied enough, you had just the right amount of power-ups and attacks to fill out your roster, and there were just the right amount of collectibles. Something that Rare would take to extreme measures until they would parody it in the 360 game, Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts and Bolts. Plus, the songs are so catchy that even ponies can sing along.
Maybe if I smash my head against the ice for a few more hours...
About halfway through the game, you came to the obligatory snow level, which was Christmas themed. In a small cave at the back of the level was a tunnel that was blocked off by a wall of ice. Behind that wall was the mystical and fabled Ice Key. It would taunt you. Surely it was a puzzle. An enigma that you needed to solve. Let's see, there's fire in the cave, but I can't bring it over to melt the wall. Can I position Kazooie to shoot eggs at it? I can, with enough finagling, but they just bounce off. The variety of wall-breaking attacks in my arsenal either don't affect the wall or can't be attempted here. How the hell do I get that?!

Now, this was in a time when games were a lot more picky about space requirements. It didn't make sense for the game developers to include something and not make it usable or obtainable in the game. Or, at least, not for them to do that and then put it prominently on display somewhere in the game.

Of course, if you're a completionist like me and got all 100 Jiggies in the game, you were rewarded with something even more infuriating: A clip at the end of the game showing Banjo and Kazooie prancing tantilizingly close to the Ice Key and two large colored eggs. We were promised that they would be able to be collected in Banjo-Tooie, at which point seemed like a joke. Toting a sequel in a video game?! Now it's standard practice to turn any well-selling game into a trilogy. (Or, if you're Halo, into 6 games, a remake, and a new trilogy coming soon) But back then, to my juvenile mind, that seemed preposterous. That's like counting your chickens before they hatch. Sure, this game was fun, but there's no way that it was like Mario or Zelda. There was no guarantee that there would ever be a sequel.

Well, there was. It was even called Banjo-Tooie, as Rare looked at my little face and yelled, “SUCK IT!” (I'm still opposed to the name since it seems so glib.) I rented it and enjoyed it, and even was able to shoulder all the extra story and collectibles. All because I was promised that I could get the Ice Key and whatever the hell those eggs were. Well, I did and I didn't. I got the Ice Key, but not by entering Wozza's Cave from the front and passing that ice-door/wall thing as the clip from Banjo-Kazooie showed. I got it from a back door. I also got 4 eggs from little B-K N64 cartidges scuttling around the world. The unlockables for these were greatly disappointing. Don't get me wrong, I loved using Dragon Kazooie, but the rest of the unlockables weren't worth the wait. And even for a small child, I started to know what it felt like to have a game company lie to my face. (A feeling I would come to know very well)
I never ended up having to suck anything down.
Looking for relief and mollification that Rare had screwed the pooch on this one, I started to search for answers. My search would eventually lead me to the Rare Witch Project (now the much easier to type therwp.com). Here I found out that, just like everything else in Banjo-Kazooie, there was a code to unlock the Ice Key and six (WTF?) eggs in Banjo-Kazooie. My mind was blown, and being the skeptic to random codes I find online, I promptly rented the game and gave them a go. To my surprise they worked splendidly, but instead of satiating my curiosity, they only made me hungrier, a feat that 6 eggs has never once done in my life. (Four are usually my limit for breakfast at any time)

Suddenly, questions abounded. Why were there six eggs instead of the four that we saw in Banjo-Tooie? What was this mysterious Stop N Swop? And to what end or purpose were these originally planned for?
Now, only one of these has ever been answered satisfactorily. The Stop N Swop.

The original plan was to rely on the N64's RAM memory cache, which stayed active for about 40 seconds after the console was turned off. There's a patent made by Rare that details the idea of loading in a small bit of data into that residual RAM memory cache and keeping it active until the games were swapped out (I guess in Europe they spell it with an 'o') and the system started up again. The new data would trigger a flag in Banjo-Tooie which would unlock something and vice versa. Basically, linking the sequel to the prequel.
What happened (and is something that I might expand on in a later date) was that Nintendo was getting ready to get all the systems capable to run RAND-NET, something that would be crucial for the Disk Drive add-on that would be coming out shortly. (Lol) Part of this was to make the systems with more efficient RAM caches. The new version of N64 only had residual RAM of about 3 seconds, which more or less shot that plan to hell. (Also, it would eventually require more RAM to run the Disk Drive which is why we got the Expansion Pak) So, panicking, Rare decided to boldly pretend like this is what they had planned all along.
"See? The Ice Key and the *cough* four eggs!"
Now, as for their original plans, they're open to speculation. There is still rampant speculation as to whether or not there is anything that the eggs and Ice Key do in Banjo-Kazooie at all, other than open a new window in the pause menu. Of course, Rare, being classy, broke down shortly after the release of Banjo-Tooie and explained to the fans exactly what was going on...
Abstract math is hard...
Or, rather, they kept making cryptic statements on their Q&A section of their official webpage for years and goaded us even more by making a cryptic diagram on a blackboard in Grabbed by the Ghoulies depicting an Key + four eggs with ?'s in them = ???
Technically, the Ice Key and eggs were used in Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts and Bolts by linking it up with Banjo-Kazooie from the Xbox LIVE Arcade, you could unlock awesome powerups. And by awesome, I mean stupid decorations that no one could possibly want.
To beat the game, you must beat two other games twice.
The mystery goes deeper with the the eggs and Ice Key when running through snippets of code of Donkey Kong 64, hackers found the phrase “ICE KEY” hidden in the code, possibly meaning that there was going to be some connectivity with Donkey Kong 64 at some stage, too. Knowing the completion requirements for Donkey Kong 64, it was likely that you had to stop playing DK and finish Banjo-Kazooie 100% to continue in your progress.

I think at some point, Rare realized that their biggest mistake was trying to act like it never existed. By treating the Stop N Swop items like they weren't a thing, they dug themselves a deeper hole that made it less and less likely that the fans could be satiated by the real purposes of the eggs and Ice Key. No doubt that the powerups that you get in Banjo-Tooie were actually the powerups that you were intended to get with Stop N Swop, along with Bottle's Revenge, a dummied-out two-player co-op mode of Tooie. But as time went on it, and speculation became deeper and deeper, it was less likely that saying that what you got was the plan all along was going to go over well with the fans who meticulously pondered over every line of code in the original game.

To this day, though, I can't help but be awed by the sheer amount of intrigue and mystery that I felt when I first discovered that the eggs and Ice Key were obtainable in Banjo-Kazooie. It sparked a love of the strange in video games. Things that make me hiss at the screen, “Why do you even exist?!” things like blackjack at the ending screen of Final Fantasy IX. The Video Relaxant item in Earthbound. Yoshi on top of the castle in Super Mario 64. (Pointless prize of 99 lives, after you've done everything you possibly could in the game) To me, it's like they act like a beam of light coming from the cracks of a closed door. Mysteries that could only be understood if you were in the production team. It's largely the reason I want to get into game design. I'll be on the other side of that door. I'll be the one creating the puzzles and meta-games for obsessive players like myself to ponder and lose sleep over. I'll also do my best to make sure that the prize for solving the mystery is better than what the prize usually is: the ability to make a forum post that raises a few eyebrows.