Insignificant as an Ant: The Magic of Disempowerment

Okay, so I'm not doing a creator spotlight this week, nor probably for the rest of June.  This doesn't mean I don't want to, it means I have something else I want to talk about.  This week and the week after I get back from New York, we will be spending doing a talk about power fantasies in video gaming.  The two sides of power fantasy.  Empowerment and this week's topic, disempowerment.

Insignificant as an Ant: The Magic of Disempowerment

            Extra Credits brought up an interesting bit of discussion during one of their segments recently, talking about the Cthulhu mythos and how so few people understand what it means.  It's not about monsters or beasts, it's about the abject horror of being so small, so infinitely weak that the monsters we face are beyond our understanding and that we are as insignificant as an ant to them.  Or even less so.

            This got me to thinking about disempowerment in video games.  There are whole genres of game design which seem to want to disempower the players, such as Outlast or Silent Hill, and many games which use disempowerment as a tool, such as Sang-Froid, where you are disempowered for the purpose of storytelling or character growth.  But why do we like disempowerment?  Why do we play games that may make us feel afraid, insignificant, or powerless?  Well, lots of reasons.  Many people are control freaks and the idea of losing control is appealing to them as a way to relax and let go of the stresses of the day, even if they have the ultimate power, the power to turn the game off.  Others Like to start off weak so they feel much better when they become strong.  Others still like the adrenaline high...the feeling of struggling to stay alive in spite of all that is stacked against you.  Count Jackula actually put it best for me.  We all need to feel fear, to understand what it is to be weak, because then, when we are faced with true horror in our real lives, we will not flinch.  In many ways, they teach us to cope, to handle obstacles, and to find hope.

We put ourselves through fear to better prepare ourselves for the coming nightmares.  Or perhaps because we just enjoy it.

            Whatever the reason, there is an art to disempowerment.  It can be handled in a number of ways.  One way is to not give the player any power to begin with.  To place them in a position of danger and give them no way to cope with it, other than to run.  This gives a modicum of control to the player, namely the ability to run and hide, but prevents them from acting like...well...a human being.  Because, no matter how scared or weak we are, some of us, when cornered, will grab a pipe and start bashing away at the cosmic monster or the psycho killer trying to destroy us.  While flawed, I believe this method has some interesting applications.  The ultimate goal is to make the players feel helpless, but to not make them feel like a pawn of the game.  These experiences are generally very, very linear, since your actions are so limited.  These are story driven experiences, not sand box games.  These games give players the illusion of choice, and thus the illusion of hope, when in reality they are just pulling you by the nose towards a goal, with the atmosphere around you and your own mind starting to play tricks.  Outlast and Amnesia are games like this.  You cannot fight, your inventory and ability to run/heal are very limited, and you will always follow the same path each time you play.

You have no power in Outlast.  All you can do is run.  Try to outlast your hunters.

            I heartily disagree with this method of disempowerment because while these games can be quite horrifying, I think they make a cardinal mistake.  Outlast, Amnesia, and Slender, are all games based around running, hiding, and light puzzle solving in order to try and evade some horrific monster or psycho killer.  One way that disempowerment fantasy works is that you are put under a threat and a fear and you wish to avoid it.  Typically the fear is about death.  However, Outlast, Amnesia, and Slender usually kill you right at the end of the game anyway.  Now, this isn't necessarily bad, as the point of these games is, as I said, story driven.  To make you feel horror and fear in regards to the story being told.  However, the flaw is that if you just die at the end...what is the point?  Why are you being pushed forward so much if once it is all over, you simply die?  Why do those other deaths matter any less?  The answer is, of course, so you can enjoy the journey and see more horrific sights.  At the end of the day, I feel it's a bit of a cheat, however, because they don't really give resolution.  You may get to a point where you cannot run any more or where there is nothing else left to do, however we don't get an end to the overall story, usually.  It just ends.  Worse is that during these death scenes at the end, your ability to run or struggle is taken away, robbing you of your control and removing you from the body of your avatar.  This kind of takes away the disempowerment, because you're no longer playing, you're watching.  There is a disconnect between player and avatar, as what the player may want to do is not what the game is ALLOWING them to do.  At least some players will want to try and fight, no matter how futile it is.  Taking away the control to fight, or hell, even run, removes some of the fear, horror, and disempowerment.  And I think they should be allowed to fight if necessary.  Why?  Because another way to disempower the player is to give them power, but show them that their power is ultimately meaningless, weak, or that they are truly insignificant.

Problems with games like Slender or Amnesia or Outlast are...if you're just going to die anyway, what makes this death at the start of the game any more or less meaningful than the death at the end of the game?

            The Silent Hill games are a beautiful bit of disempowerment fantasy, where the player is actually given a decent assortment of weapons, from pipes and clubs to various guns.  These can be used to defend yourself against the enemy, however it is ultimately. futile.  Why?  Because the true horror does not come from the fear of death.  The true horror is not about physical bodily harm or a monster getting you.  The true horror is about living with the monster.  About being surrounded by an unholy feeling of dread that although you could be killed at the whim of whatever you are facing, you are left alive only to suffer, for the amusement of whatever you are facing.  The Silent Hill series does this better than almost any other game, with the possible exception of Lone Survivor.  The atmosphere around you is incredibly heavy and the enemies, while dangerous, seem to have a kind of apathy towards you.  They care very little about you...not even to the point where they even need to attack you.  They will if they see you, however you know that if they all charged you at once, you'd die...but you are kept alive because Silent Hill itself doesn't care about you.  Not even enough to kill you outright.  In all the Silent Hill games, you CAN die at the end if you act in a certain way, however most of them offer a solid resolution, showing either a falling deeper into horror or finding a way out, which I believe is nice for disempowerment fantasy...it helps bring the players back to reality, so to speak, while still being a bit obscure...leaving the player wondering and making connections with their own life.

The true terror of a game like Silent Hill 2 is living with the monster that is the town.  It hates you.  But it doesn't care so much to kill you...it will let you kill yourself, little by little, because you really are insignificant.  This is what makes the game so disempowering...and so brilliant.

             Another way to handle disempowerment fantasy is to try and give someone something truly unknowable that they are facing.  It might be given an explanation or a synopsis on some wiki, but the creature itself is still alien to you and acts in a way no human could ever act.  This is truly horrifying, as we don't understand the reason for its actions.  It is beyond us.  Even if armed with powerful weapons, like in Prey, you can feel weak and disempowered because you cannot fathom the purpose of the enemies around you, or even if you can, you cannot reconcile it.  SCP: Containment Breach is a charming little freeware indie game that does this better than any game I've ever seen.  Using the monsters on the SCP wiki, it has creatures that are gifted with power beyond your understanding and a dark purpose that is never explained.  The horror comes from trying to survive them, such as a porcelain statue with an unblinking, painted face, which will only move when you don't look at it, like the Weeping Angels in Doctor Who.  While the Angels can be figured out and were even given a voice, the statue has none of this and haunts you, perhaps for no reason other than its own amusement.  Other monsters abound in SCP containment breach, such as the plague doctor, a creature that can pass through walls, or even a simple painting which compels you to slit your wrist and finish it in your own blood.  These are nightmares that cannot be reasoned with, figured out, or in many cases, even fought.  They are contained because of the danger involved.  These horrors would make you cringe and feel weak even if the game gifted you with a gun, which it does not, and in many ways are one exception to my rule of not letting the player fight.  When you are facing human monsters, or human-esque monsters who kill you with physical force, that's one thing.  But when you are facing a creature that kills you by infecting you with a disease, forcing you to slit your wrist, or simply hiding in your peripheral vision...what can you do?  How do you fight something that kills you by simply being?

Blink or take your eyes off the statue and you die.  It will move so long as you're not looking in its direction.  How do you fight something like that?  More to the point...what the hell is this thing?!

 

Did I forget to mention...in SCP: Containment Breach, the doll from hell isn't the only monster out there.  We have many, MANY more...

           And of course, many games try to disempower using tried and true horror cliches, such as the jump scare, the sound of people dying within your ear shot to make you feel that you're responsible or too late or what have you.  They can use gross out moments, such as filling a room with roaches or they can use gore, such as bodily dismemberment.  However, the instant you take away control from the player, I personally believe that it stops being a disempowerment game.  It stops being that horrific experience of facing demons and trying to come out unharmed, both as the character and as the gamer.  So, many times I feel these techniques are wasted.

Fear is demoralizing and disempowering...and body horror is a great way of inducing fear and making the player feel weak and scared.

            So, now that we've looked at different ways to disempower, how can we take it that one step further?  How can we improve on the subject?  Well, there are a number of ways. 

            SCP: Containment Breach, I believe has great potential because it does one thing that most horror games don't.  It adds an element of randomness.  You see, the death of horror and disempowerment is rote memorization.  The longer a player experiences a game, the better equipped they are to deal with it later.  The game stops being disempowering because you now have the power of pre-cognition.  You know what's coming and are therefore able to handle it, even if the character in game cannot fight.  When I played Dark Souls 2, I beat the game 3 times before starting a new game+.  When I got to one section of the new game, a GIANT MONSTER climbed out of the ground and began to attack me.  I was shocked and a little scared.  I felt helpless, as I wasn't expecting it.  It wasn't supposed to appear.  And it does disappear quickly enough, but the shock and surprise, not unlike a jump scare, got me.  That element of newness, of the unexpected, actually got me.  SCP: Containment Breach does this quite well.  It has randomly generated maps so that players dealing with the monsters within have the potential to find new monsters in places they thought were safe.  The game always starts and ends the same, however where it proceeds from there is different each time, and that keeps people on their toes.

Seeing something new, horrific, and scary will demoralize and disempower the first time you see it...but once the newness wears off, so too does the fear.  You have to keep things fresh...keep people on their toes...to keep them disempowered on a regular basis.

            Sadly, however, even random elements can be predicted to an extent.  No matter how random the layouts, play SCP: Containment Breach enough times and you'll eventually get used to the monsters and they'll stop scaring you and making you feel weak.  A more lasting way to get into people's heads, in my opinion, is to make their fear personal.  Now, this is limited by the hardware.  You can't have a game slamming doors or rattling walls in real life.  However, there are ways to make it feel personal nonetheless.  Silent Hill 4, for example, takes place in a person's 1 bedroom apartment.  Slowly, the apartment becomes more corrupted and your haven becomes your prison.  Since I live in a 1 bedroom apartment myself, this really freaked me out.  Likewise, in Gone Home, the idea of your family home being exactly as it should be, but without your family and with a painful story to tell can be unsettling.  A home matching yours covered in Slender man scribblings can be downright terrifying.  These personal touches can make games far scarier, because you never get used to them, at least while you're in the place that it makes homage to.  So, one way to create lasting fear in spite of being able to predict or get used to the disempowerment is to make it personal.  This is naturally quite hard, due to everyone being different, however I believe some things are universal.  If you can tap into that, then you can make something truly horrifying.

My apartment looks similar to this in terms of layout...but not nearly as much blood or rust.  Seeing this in a game...seeing my home become a nightmarish prison...it really got to me.  THANKS, SILENT HILL 4!!!

            Also, I believe that the key to disempowerment is tricking the player into feeling weak, when in fact they can do whatever they want.  Once again, Silent Hill does this very well by giving you the ability to fight, but by making you feel as if your fighting is futile.  A way to improve this is to have tighter controls.  Silent Hill usually has very clunky controls, even with the more combat focused games like Homecoming.  If the gameplay allows the player to do anything, but still makes them feel weak...then you've successfully disempowered them in the best way possible.

The trick to making a game truly disempowering is to give players perfect control...and still make them feel helpless.  If you can do fight or trick enemies but still feel weak and helpless...then you've got a good horror/disempowering title on your hands.

            A key way to get around the problem I talked about with games like Outlast or Slender is actually to make death and rebirth an integral part of the game.  Imagine the horror you might experience of finding your zombified/petrified/mutilated corpse on a subsequent playthrough?  ZombiU does this, by allowing you to spawn a new avatar with each death and forcing you to reclaim your supplies by killing your zombified former self.  Unfortunately, where ZombiU stumbles is in the storytelling, as the new character is different, thus the horror is diminished, since death no longer becomes that big a deal.  After all, if all that you can be threatened with is death, then why be afraid?  Death is merely an inconvenience.  Neverending Nightmares and Gyossait found a brilliant way around this, in my opinion, each approaching the problem in a different way.  Neverending Nightmares is a game about dealing with horror, monsters, and tragedy, but also puts instakill enemies and traps in the game.  However, when you die, you wake up in bed, panting and covered in sweat, as if it were a dream.  Even when you advance, it is always like waking up, only to be still trapped in the nightmare.  The beds act as checkpoints and each death only leads into another nightmare.  Conversely, Gyossait states after your first death that you are here to be tormented and that you will be reborn time and again only to suffer.  What's more, I believe your corpses linger in these games, even with the new lives.  How horrific is that?

Death is not the end.  It only leads to more nightmares.

 

You live to feel pain.  And each time you die, you will be born again, just so I can watch you suffer...

            Along that same line of thought, I'd say that all games, even Outlast, Slender, and Amnesia should feature the ability to attack monsters.  Now, don't misunderstand me.  Just because you can attack a monster, I don't think you should be able to beat it.  Give them infinite HP, while still making the weapon sound like it touched them.  Players may die a few times while trying to fight off their foes, but it will just add to their sense of helplessness and sooner or later, they will try to run, realizing their own weakness.  This is something that will disempower greatly.

Could you or I really beat a monster like this?  Maybe not, but we don't know until we try...and if you let us try and fail, imagine the horror and weakness we'd feel the next time...

            Finally, the most effective way of disempowering a player is selective loneliness.  Removing any figures of compassion or understanding.  Putting them in a world that hates them.  This is hard to do, even with the best of games because they typically need at least one or two figures who will give the player hope or push them forward to try and survive.  This is where "selective" comes into play.  You should not have anyone to give support to the player while they are actually playing.  Have enemies and monsters as even with a great atmosphere, if you feel truly alone, then you have nothing that can hurt you.  Even Amnesia had to throw a monster at you after an hour or two of atmospheric teasing, lest the player start to lose their fear.  With no one to rely on, despair can set in, as human beings are social creatures.  With no one to fight for or to help you, you may begin to lose hope, no matter how capable you are, pushing forward only because you fear death or want out of your nightmare.  This is where true disempowerment lies.  Neverending Nightmares sets this up with a brilliantly dark opening, featuring a young woman being stabbed, apparently by the player, right before we wake up and meet the same young woman, our younger sister, who is nice to us and tries to guide us forward.  Once she vanishes, our apprehension and fear return...more so than before, because we fear we will hurt this person...we fear we will be alone.  We despair of saving  or being saved.  We feel weak.

In Neverending Nightmares, you are alone...that which is here, hates you.  That which you love is gone.  God...why have you forsaken me?

            When it comes to gaming, I'm not sure if we can ever fully simulate the feeling the Extra Credits crew was talking about.  Cthulhu, to them, was not an entity, but a concept.  It was an idea, or a presence.  The very existence of it breaks our understanding of reality, of our importance in the world.  The only reason we live in a world with Cthulhu is because we are so small that he does not care about us.  We could be stepped on or spared, and the elder god would not care.  In this aspect, one of the few things we can hope to do is survive the nightmare...to hide and if we're lucky, avoid the foot of god.  This presence, this feeling that we are always and forever weaker than we think, the idea that the universe is so infinitely large and that we are so pathetically small, could make for an interesting corner stone of disempowerment in video games.  It just hasn't been tried that much.  Games like Silent Hill or Lone Survivor do it on a small scale, where the presence of the world around you exacts a pull on your psyche, however on a truly cosmic scale?  Nothing quite that ambitious has been done. 

To truly know how small we are on a grand a scale as this is hard.  To truly feel like an ant under the boot of an eldritch god, who cares nothing for our existence, for good or ill...that kind of horror is still waiting for us to discover in gaming.

            I believe that as horror evolves, it may be tried, as disempowerment is a part of our development.  We have to feel weak sometimes to understand the value of strength.  We need to be tested with helplessness in order to temper our resolve and not lose hope.  Or perhaps we just like being scared and the adrenaline high does it for us.  Who knows?

            I am not a horror gamer by trade.  I have Silent Hill 2-4, Homecoming, and Clock Tower 3.  I generally DO NOT LIKE playing horror games.  That being said, it doesn't mean I'm not fascinated by the stories they tell or by the odd approach they have to game design.  Making someone feel weak runs contrary to basic game design.  And yet, it can still be compelling for the reasons I stated above.  So, I have gained a growing interest in horror games.

Perhaps I too gaze into the abyss in fear, in hope, or to test and see...if something is going to gaze back at me.

            I hope you have enjoyed this exploration of disempowerment fantasy and ways that it might be improved through game design in the future.  Check out some of the horror titles I've mentioned for a terrifying good time and come back in two weeks for when we discuss the exact opposite.  We're going to talk about how to make you feel like a bad ass.

An Incomplete Story: Annoying Ambiguities

            Welcome.  I'd like to start off by saying that there will be HEAVY spoilers in this particular article for Silent Hill 2, Our Darker Purpose, Binding of Isaac, Braid, and Dark Souls.  This is your ONLY warning.  We are going to be talking story in this section and if you don't want anything spoiled, I'd say give this article a pass.

No complaining after this point.

            There.  With that out of the way, I want to talk a little about Our Darker Purpose.  It's an interesting rogue-like shooter in the vein of The Binding of Isaac that follows a character who can move in a top down perspective and shoot in any of the four cardinal directions.  I backed it on kickstarter and only recently got to playing and finishing it.  Well, I say finished it, but it's super hard, so I took a peak at the ending.  And...I like Our Darker Purpose.  I do.  It's creepy, it's fun, and save for some hitbox issues, the mechanics are rock solid.  However, I'm highly disappointed with the story.  Mainly because the ending kind of...comes out of left field and doesn't leave any closure.

Creepy and disturbing, but without a definite conclusion.  So close to the finish line, Our Darker Purpose.  So close.

            Our Darker Purpose follows the story of a boarding school called Edgewood that is basically Silent Hill.  One day, one of the teachers leaves three students in control of his class as he goes to talk to the shadowy administrators of the school.  Suddenly, all the teachers in the school vanish and the Lord of the Flies scenario commences.  Students divide up amongst respective leaders, but the powerful and the popular work together to destroy the outcasts.  The leader of the outcasts, Cordelia, is crushed under a book case...only to awaken with the school now in full on feral mode.  Monsters roam the halls, students have turned insane, and her betrayers wait for her at higher levels.  It's an interesting setup with great atmosphere.  The story starts out with a bang, there's lots of hidden lore to discover, and Cordelia, Cordy, seems to be searching for an answer as to what the hell happened.  However, as you progress in the game, the story becomes less coherent, hinting that there is some meta-plot underneath the surface.  And...that's kind of the problem.

The game's story is a little off the wall from the start, but when we start to lose focus on Cordy's story and turn focus on the meta-narrative...we kind of lose a piece of what makes the game endearing.

            See, Our Darker Purpose relies a bit too heavily on the meta-narrative and the ambiguity that accompanies this hidden part of the game.  After the first few bosses, the hidden part takes center stage and things become less coherent.  Cordy's battles constantly loop and the stories recognize this, saying things like "What is a memory of a memory?" or "It will all start again."  The administrators talk about Cordy like some kind of monster or curse.  And the final boss is called "His Natural Defense."  After beating it, Cordelia seems to lose control, multiply, and there is some weird cackling and talk about things that don't make sense, and then the game ends...quite unsatisfactorily, I must say.  It leaves players scratching their heads, but not in the contemplative way.  I ends in the "What the hell just happened?" way.  Steam forum users put together the theory that Edgewood represents a human mind of a character referenced in the lore and that everything in Edgewood is a reflection on his past, when he was in an orphanage and tormented by girls like Cordy and her former friends.  That Cordy is actually a virus, infecting this guy's brain and that the school is trying to shut her down, but she keeps multiplying.  Now, this is a fascinating idea.  It's a well thought out meta plot that could have been a lot of fun for people to discover.  However, it leaves the plot we started with, about a quiet girl, betrayed and left for dead, in the dust when...really, it shouldn't.

Rather than the journey ending with a satisfying conclusion, Our Darker Purpose shows us Cordy splitting into a thousand other Cordys, heading towards some dark goal.  Perhaps truth in advertising, but not a fulfilling or even coherent ending.

            I saw Edgewood as a place of punishment, like Silent Hill in Silent Hill 2.  It's got reflections of humanity, meant to test Cordy so that she can come out stronger.  Delightfully creepy, but with something grounded, so to speak.  However, we never get an answer as to whether the above theory, or my own interpretation is right.  The developers leave it open.  And that's very annoying.  Some ambiguity in a game is great, in my opinion.  It can help make people think about the world of the game, it can make them contemplative on messages within it, and it can leave room for further explanation in a sequel.  However, you have to have a concrete ending in order for the game to feel satisfying.  Even if the ending isn't that great, we need closure on the character we've carried this far.  Even if that closure is death, like in Outlast or Amnesia.

            Case in point, Dark Souls.  You are told from the start that you are the chosen undead and that it is your goal to rekindle the dying flames of the first fire to restore light and warmth to the world and end the curse of the undead.  Now, you don't have to do this.  There are several interesting ambiguities hidden in the world, like plot lines that are only available if you go to certain places in the right order.  You can learn of the corruption of New Londo and Oolacile, or about the Dark Soul itself, or even see that the quest you have been given was rigged from the start, but no matter how or what you discover, the game ends with you making a choice.  A concrete choice that will either burn you in the first fire to revive it or make you the new dark lord of the undead, ending your personal saga with a satisfying conclusion.  It is your story...choose to end it your way.

To rule the world or to save it, whatever your choice, you get an ending.  A satisfying one.

            And this is what I want to ask of developers.  Please, I know you want to be clever.  To do some interesting things with the plot that others haven't.  I encourage you to do so wholeheartedly, because while I was annoyed with Our Darker Purpose's ending, I can't say I wasn't impressed with the care put into making it the way it was through the lore...once I pieced things together.  But I shouldn't have to piece things together if I don't want to.  It's great to have that ambiguity and those hidden elements, but give us a concrete ending as well.  Here, let me show you how it could have worked. 

Cordelia defeats Edgewood's final defenses and the school crumbles around her.  Instead of restoring order, she has destroyed the only home she has ever known and is now alone.  She must venture forward into the wastes surrounding the school and see if she can find her way. 

            Still fits in well with the theme of Cordy being a disease, as she's eroded her host's mind and now she's got nothing really left to do.  He's lost it and now he's crazy, so what is left for her?  It works on both levels.  And more importantly, it brings Cordy's character arc to a close.

This game started with Cordy.  Even if this is all one big meta-narrative about disease and childhood trauma, I think it should end with Cordy too.  Her story, her game.  Everything else is for us to speculate on.  Just my opinion, but still...

            That's really what I'm asking for with this.  I want it to work on both levels.  Binding of Isaac, for example, is all about grotesque imagery and a rather macabre take on the religious story of the same name, where Abraham was going to sacrifice his son Isaac because of god.  Isaac's religious fanatic mother goes crazy, strips him of his clothes and worldly possessions, and then tries to kill him.  Isaac has to scurry away into the basement, finding his deformed brethren and coming face to face with inner demons before an act of god saves him from his mother, while still leaving room open for Isaac to come to terms with his own human weakness and corruption.  It's got plenty of grey area on what the hell is happening, but it gives us at least a complete story.  Isaac's story.

I may not like Binding of Isaac, but it at least keeps the story focused on Isaac and gives us a decent conclusion to his character arc.

            Silent Hill 2 is probably the king of symbolism and is steeped with ambiguity.  James Sunderland finds himself in a town covered in mist and inhabited by monsters.  On the surface, these are just faceless abominations, but the more you know about the game, the more they reflect a different part of James' psyche and how they explain more subtle parts of the story.  Even without understanding the symbolism behind them, they still make for an interesting attention grabber and work towards the player understanding that James feels guilty and is an unreliable narrator.  He killed his wife out of pity and grief, because she was dying and the town of Silent Hill is punishing him for that, making him come face to face with Pyramid Head, an executioner, to symbolically face his sins as a killer, before finally making peace with his wife and either choosing to overcome grief or choosing to be subsumed by it.  There's lots of areas that are never properly explained in the game, but they don't get in the way of the story because the ambiguity enhances it in a subtle way, rather than in a direct, immediate way.

James Sunderland.  Murderer.  Mercy Killer.  After a grueling battle with his own inner demons, he finally comes to terms with his past.  Though the ending can change based on his struggle, they still bring his story and his arc to a close.

            If you want to have a twist or an allegory or a metaphor running throughout your game, feel free, developers.  Braid did this with lots of quotes and lines about the nuclear age and how the hero's quest for the damsel, which it turned out was actually him chasing her like a stalker, only in reverse due to the game's time manipulation mechanic, mirrors our own dangerous fascination about nuclear power and how it can destroy or corrupt.  How our forcing the use of nuclear power and calling it justice, under a pretense of idealism, could ultimately turn us into the real monsters.  However, Braid, without even using words or what have you, was able to visually tell a compelling little story that had an ending.  It may not have been the ending we wanted, as we were now revealed to be the bad guy, but it made things clear and we had a concrete finish.

This is from Braid.  It is part of the story, but also part of the metaphor.  Have your message or your ambiguity, but your story must come first.  Braid at least understood that much.

            Ambiguity can really work with a game if the developers know what they're doing and clearly Avidly Wild Games did, as they were able to do a huge amount with Our Darker Purpose's lore.  However, if a game is trying to tell a story, but fails, it matters little how in depth the lore is, because we won't feel invested in revisiting it because we don't care for the story.  Our Darker Purpose avoids this, if only because it's so damned confusing at points.  However, it's something to be aware of.

            This isn't a hard problem to fix.  I think that most people never do fix it in game development though because they either don't think about it, it makes sense to them at the time, or because they don't see a problem with the game having this big branching meta-narrative that doesn't actually get properly explained enough to take the place of the narrative we started with.  However, fixing it is easy...all you have to do is be aware of it.  Be aware of your meta-narrative and make it work WITH your plot rather than taking over your plot.

Know what story you want to tell and don't stray from it.  If you want to tell Cordy's story, tell it.  If you want her to be a metaphor for a disease, let that be your lead.  But whatever story you tell, don't let another story sidetrack it.

            On the whole, this isn't a big thing with Our Darker Purpose because of how devoted the fans are and because of how interesting the story is when it all comes together, but it could have been a huge problem.  There's really nowhere outside that one Steam forum that goes into detail about this, not even on the Wiki, so it could have left players feeling confused and possibly angry.  My plea is not to take the lore or the ambiguity out of gaming, but to use them as the supports for the pillar that is story.  The story stands on its own, but with the supports helping it, it has a stronger presence overall.

            I want a story that's not just deep or steeped in lore, but one that's also complete.  Show me a story that's the greatest of all and I'll listen without hesitation.  Show me a story that's the greatest of all but which has not ending and I'll leave without a second thought.  Characters and audiences need closure.  It's just part of being human.

Perhaps this just hits me hard because I'm a writer and story is my bread and butter.  But I hate it when a character we've grown attached to is cast aside for some twist or metaphor.

            There now...that wasn't too bad.  I did try and keep some spoilers to a minimum.  I thank anyone who's stuck with me through this.  Sometimes it feels like this blog is a mouth piece for whatever I'm thinking about video games and game design at the time.  And it kind of is...but I hope others find it fun too.  I literally just thought of this article and how interconnected it was with my expectations and other games I'd played not more than two days ago.  Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it.

Companionship: Endearing vs Annoying

NO!  I'm not dead...but I have been very busy.  My attempts to keep two blogs, a job, school, and my personal work going, as well as finding time to unwind has been...difficult.  So, expect slower updates on this blog in the coming months, at least until I finish with my classes.  For now though, I do have a long update for people.  So, let's look into Companionship: Endearing vs Annoying.

            Something that a lot of developers seem to have trouble with is the idea of companionship in video games.  A lot of them want to make a deep, meaningful connection between two characters, so they tend to put them together so a bond can develop.  Problem.  Without another human brain, you run the risk of completely ruining this experience.  See, unless you or someone else can control another character, quite often they will become more of a burden than a friend or a lover or what have you.  The AI in video games, or even the circumstances surrounding another character, are often too weak to force that kind of bond.  So, that brings up a few interesting arguments on companionship.  How do you make a character endearing, when there isn't another human behind the steering wheel?  How do you avoid making them a burden or an annoyance?  Well, let's take a look at a few prominent games based around a system of companionship and see different approaches taken in the past, both good and bad.

Good game design and narrative can even make two silent robots endearing.

            Probably the most famous, and yet the most esoteric, companionship in past years has been Ico and Yorda from the game Ico.  Yorda is the very definition of what can be called a burden.  You die if she gets too far away from you, she can do nothing for herself, you literally have to hold her hand through most of the game, and she speaks very little.  Yet, people often cite Yorda as one of the great gaming companions of recent memory.  Why is this?  I tend to believe it is because of the circumstances.  You see, the world of Ico is bleak, lifeless, cold, and lonely.  Ico the character is hated by his fellow villagers and attacked by monsters within the castle.  Yet Yorda is not afraid of him.  She speaks very little, but does not abuse Ico, does not hate him, and is comfortable enough around him to let him guide her and to rest with him on a bench when saving the game.  Yorda seems like a burden, however the way the game is designed, burden or not, Yorda is all you've got.  Yorda is the one ray of light in the darkness.  Because of this, it feels almost like a fairytale, where a prince and a princess must escape an evil witch.  And all of this is conveyed through art and mechanics rather than through a lot of text or narrative.  Despite not having very good AI and being largely dependent on you, Yorda forms that meaningful bond of companionship by being the only hope you have for the future in a world that hates you.

The image of Ico and Yorda holding hands is immortal in gaming.  Two lost souls who depend on one another not just for puzzles or mechanics, but for the hope to keep going.

            Conversely, let's look at Resident Evil 4 and Ashley Graham.  Ashley is an attractive young woman in a cute sweater and a miniskirt.  She is often useful for puzzles and her death, like Yorda's, spells the end for you.  However, Ashley is looked upon in a far less kindly manner.  The circumstances surrounding Leon Kennedy, the main character in Resident Evil 4, are, arguably, far more hostile than in Ico, but a good deal less bleak.  Leon is taunted by his enemies, he is encouraged by allies and uncertain elements, he is frequently talked to and is far less feeble and helpless than Ico.  Leon is also far more well liked, as his allies care for him and his enemies even respect him somewhat.  In this situation, companionship is not something novel.  It is not a single ray of light in the darkness.  And because Ashley is not all that you have, because you meet other people, are able to talk with others, etc. her significance as an endearing companion is diminished and she just becomes annoying.  She becomes a weight around the player's neck because they know they're not alone, or hated, or reliant on Ashley for any other reason than the game says so.

Sums up the problems with Ashley in a single sentence.

            From these two cases, the importance of tone and circumstances is emphasized.  Ashley and Yorda play very similar roles in their respective games, but one is well liked and considered a true companion while the other is a weight around your neck.  At a very basic level, this is a good way to define endearing vs annoying.  Do you want to be with them.  Yorda, while frustrating at times to have due to the instant death one can suffer from her, is all the comfort you have in the game.  You want to be with her, just to relieve the crippling loneliness and feel like you are wanted or needed.  Ashely is not all you have.  You have Ada Wong, Ingrid Hunnigan, or even the villains who taunt you, like Ramon Salazar or Krauser.  Leon is not alone.  Beyond that, he also has other comforts, such as a feeling of superiority in besting enemies with various weapons.  Ashley, therefore, is more frustrating than comforting.  Rather than being endearing, she is annoying.

"Lonely?  Nah, I'm too busy fighting zombies with cool weapons to be lonely?  What was I doing, again?  Oh, right...President's daughter.  Ah, well, that can wait till after my knife fight with my rival."

            Now, with these concepts laid out, let's examine some ways around the Ashley scenario that don't rely so heavily on the bleak circumstances of Ico.  Ways to try and create an endearing companionship while avoiding the burdensome behavior we have seen in the past.  Silent Hill 2 and 4 have tried two different approaches at this.  At various times in the game, you will be forced to have a companion.  In Silent Hill 2, it is the character Maria.  Maria is not really a weight around your neck because she is not necessarily reliant on you.  She dies several times in the game as is, so her protection is not really the player's problem.  She will follow you regardless.  However, the problem with this is that the companionship itself is relatively pointless...she is a comfort in the horrors of Silent Hill, true, but outside of cut scenes, she does very little, so her presence could, in theory be excised without loosing much impact.  Silent Hill 4 takes a different approach, where you have a character who follows you, but her death means your death, like with Ashley, and if she takes too much damage, it will adversely affect the ending.  This encourages players to look after her, but begrudgingly at best.  There are attempts to make her feel necessary, by giving her the ability to wield weapons or make comments about the world around her, however the weaponry takes up precious spaces in your inventory and the comments are easy to miss.  Ultimately, Silent Hill 4's approach is a step in the right direction...but still more frustrating than the consequence free companionship of Silent Hill 2.

Let's go, woman crippled by a beating from a serial killer, with your help we can kill those monsters!  Seriously, it doesn't make a lot of sense, but she does at least try to be useful...that's more than I can say for Ashley Graham.

            Resident Evil 5 actually comes relatively close to making a companion feel both necessary, useful, and even comforting.  The character Sheva wields weapons, just like Chris Redfield, the main character, and is capable not only of looking after herself, but also of protecting the player and assisting them with boss battles.  She can heal Chris or herself, give ammo, and offers both colorful commentary and a feeling of not being alone in a tough situation.  Yet, Sheva is also heavily criticized.  She does not always use the best weapon for the best situation, even if she has it in her possession.  She can waste healing items on minor wounds.  And Sheva also falls under the problematic approach of, if she dies, you die.  While useful and even at times enjoyable to have around, due to her beauty and her useful abilities, Sheva is still a problematic and at times annoying companion.  Sheva is a perfect example of good intentions limited by artificial intelligence.  She tries to act with prudency and humanity, but is limited by the designer's foresight.

Sassy, sultry, capable, and heavily armed...the perfect companion, right?  Err...right?

            I think this is a good time to mention that pretty much every companion I have mentioned is a female.  This is a rather sad trope in companionship in gaming.  Because the popular perception, which is flawed might I add, that most games are played by men, they think that a woman as a companion creates an instant endearment, either for sexual reasons or for reasons of chivalry.  This is, however, a rather pitiful attempt to make a character endearing without giving them any real substance.  Neverdead, for example, has what can only be described as a lascivious young woman accompanying the male character, who can fight and use guns, but still needs to be kept alive...the reason players are supposed to care for her is her looks.  This does not work.  She is frequently a burden and not well liked, due in part to her personality and her voice acting, and in part to the instant death which surrounds her.

Why are we supposed to care again?  Oh, right!  Cleavage!

            There are a few examples of male companions, such as in war games like Resistance: Fall of man, the warrior, dwarf, or wizard characters in Dragon's Crown, male body guards in Skyrim, etc. however they fall prey to a combination of the Silent Hill 2 and the Silent Hill 4 problem.  While they can be useful and helpful for clearing a level by attacking enemies, ala Silent Hill 4, we have no real reason to care, as they have almost no real personality and their deaths mean nothing to us.  This negates any possibility for companionship.  The one time I have seen male companionship done well is in Gears of War, where it is necessary to keep the male characters alive, but they do not die right away...they can bleed out and you can save them, giving you a bit of a buffer.  And likewise, not only do they fight with you, but they can also save you.  It is a nice feeling of camaraderie, only hindered by the generally weak character developments beyond the grizzled soldier stereotype.

Despite the grizzled soldier stereotype, Dom is pretty endearing, due to the brother's in arms-esque nature of Gears of War.

            Probably the best example of a companion character that I have ever seen does still have flaws.  Elizabeth in Bioshock Infinite is an interesting, attractive young lady who frequently gives you money, ammo, weapons, and can create new areas for you to use as cover or to restock your supplies or attack enemies using her unique powers.  The enemies never attack her because of the very good excuse that she is seen as something of a messiah and is respected, so they want to kill you and take her back unharmed.  She frequently talks to the main character, Booker Dewitt, and her absence is felt whenever she is not with you, because she is both a voice of innocence and idealism in a world that is very harsh.  What's more, not only is Elizabeth not a burden on you, but she can also save you from almost certain death.  And this gets into the biggest problem with Elizabeth.  While a beautifully fleshed out character, very useful, and one you do gain a genuine emotional attachment too, she does somewhat cripple the game.  When there is no fear of death, save for the loss of a few coins, it does not encourage the player to get better, nor does it afford the level of challenge one might want in such a game.  In trying to make an endearing companion that is not a burden, the game designers sacrificed challenge and, to a degree, balance.

Sweet and idealistic, helpful and likeable, beautiful and charming, Elizabeth is a great ally...pity she makes the game so blatantly easy.

            So, what do we do to resolve this dilemma?  Well, as far as I can tell, there are three ways to make characters endearing rather than annoying.  The first is circumstance.  Like with Yorda or Elizabeth, use the circumstances of the world to try and make them more endearing.  Yorda is your hope and the only compassion in a cruel world, so you care for her, while Elizabeth is fully fleshed out and is not an over glorified escort mission, due to the fact that she is meant to be captured and not harmed in the context of the game's story.  The second option is much more difficult, as it requires maintaining a balance between usefulness, emotional attachment, and frustration.  This option is to incorporate most of what we have previously discussed into a single character with the caveat that, while she cannot be killed to give you a game over, letting her get hurt will make you feel so bad that you will WANT to protect her.  Perhaps having a character collapse and softly weep in the background for a few minutes, like until you hug her or help her up, might be the needed balance between an escort quest and a genuine companionship story.  However, this requires a high level of polish, both in the AI and in the game design.  Pathfinding issues, idiotic choices, or overuse of said weeping or incapacitation mechanics could cripple it.  Most developers are unwilling to try and work that hard for the endearment.  The third option is the easiest and does not necessarily have to remove endearment from a game.  That option is to not require the character to be a part of battle.  Oh, certainly give them their own personality, their own AI, and things to do, but keep them in a strictly residential district.

Companionship is a delicate balance in gaming between circumstances, game design, and AI.  Sometimes, it's easier to say, "Wait for me, I'll be back" to your friends...it makes the game play better and doesn't sacrifice character development.

            A few might cry sexism, as this is essentially saying that women need to be kept in the home, or what have you, but hear me out.  It's used to great effect in games like Rune Factory Frontier or Pandora's Tower where you have characters important to you and to the plot.  You have companions who do their own thing.  However, they don't need to be in battle.  Their personality, their contributions to you, and their story is what makes them endearing, rather than gameplay mechanics.  In Rune Factory Frontier, the character Mist is very strange, a bit silly, but also very likable.  She will give you gifts, but does not hang around her house.  She goes for errands in the village, tends to her flowers, follows a schedule, etc.  You don't need to worry about her, but at the same time when she gets kidnapped, you want to save her because...the world's just not the same without her.  Elena from Pandora's Tower is another example of this, where her presence is reassuring, she does a huge amount of things for the player, and while she isn't essential, when she is gone, her presence is missed.  This does fall apart a little since players are on a timer with Elena's life on the line, but in concept, it is a good idea.  And it does not have to be limited to domestic or female roles either.  In the early parts of Shining Force 2, characters are accompanied by their mentor, Sir Astral who is purely an adviser and does not take place in battle.  Then, he leaves the party and you spend several hours without him.  Once he rejoins the team, it feels...right, you might say.  You missed the character, even without him having participated in battle because his actions and his role in the story make players care.

Keep calm and eat turnips.  Seriously, without Mist, Rune Factory just isn't Rune Factory.  That's how endearing she is, even outside of battle.

            Ultimately, it is my belief that developers need to ask the Q&A testers one big question when designing a partner in either capacity.  "Does this improve the game?"  With Elizabeth, it does.  Bioshock Infinite would be very different, almost impossible, without her presence.  The same goes for Yorda.  However, think about Ashley Graham...if she was kidnapped and managed to either hide or escape, only reappearing in cut scenes, would that have been such a huge loss?  I'm not so sure, myself.  Developers are going to have to, at times, make compromises when trying to make endearing characters due to time or limitations on hardware, experience, or even by publisher mandate.  However, they can still make the experience enjoyable.  Is Sheva a problem in RE5?  Well, she has her flaws, but the game wouldn't be what it is without her.  And I dare say it might even be a little bit boring.  So, Sheva, despite being flawed is a decent partner.  Same for Dom in Gears of War, as he not only supports you, but can save you, just as you can save him.  Perfect?  No.  But still a part of the game that makes it special and, dare I say it, enjoyable.

A little bit of common sense in game design goes a long way when designing companionship.  Characters can't speak?  Well, let their actions speak louder than words.  Whatever you do, though, make sure it improves the game.

            Common sense is good here...it's great to make a game you love, but also think about who else you're making it for before you make partner death an instant game over, give them a bad personality, or hire an actress to voice them who just doesn't fit.

            Alot of the time, it's not endearing vs annoying.  It's which do we have more of?  Endearing or annoying?  The best most of us can do is try to tip the scale in favor of endearing, because no matter how hard you try, there is not going to be a character for everyone.  So, do your best to make them more fun or meaningful than they are tiresome or troubling.