Gotta Catch 'em All

We all know the Wii U isn't doing so well at the moment. Something which is mainly down to Nintendo launching its latest hardware without an entry of any of their major franchises. There have already been a lot of column inches dedicated to that issue, so I'm not going to add to them. What the Wii U needs is a killer app. Something that couldn't be done on any other console. So why not give the fans what they want and start work on the much requested Pokémon MMO? It would be a guaranteed system seller, especially if a copy was bundled in at the point of sale.

The Wii U is uniquely suited as a platform to a console MMO, with the GamePad adding DS functionality to the living room, the touch screen makes not just juggling menus, but in game communication much simpler than it would be on the PS3 for instance. Nintendo are also blessed with ownership of the Pokémon franchise, one of the most successful names in the business, and a set of games whose single player mechanics would translate very easily into an MMO. Combining the two would effectively be a licence to print money. So without further ado, I present my own hypothetical Pokémon Universe design document.

At its most basic level, the Pokémon MMO should contain every one of the regions that have appeared across the series' history, and all 649 Pokémon that would appear in those regions. Some Pokémon would have specific habitats just like real world animals, to encourage worldwide travel to Catch 'em All.

Getting into the game starts with character creation. Pick your gender and assemble your avatar from a variety of options to create a character that looks like you would if you'd stepped through the screen into the Pokémon anime. Obviously there should be a wealth of basic options, with new outfits unlockable as you work through the game as a mark of progression.

Now, we can't all come from Pallet Town because it would cause horrible congestion in the early stages of the game. So while creating a character, one of the options that needs to be picked is that of your hometown. You could choose any town from any region, from Cinnabar Island to Cerulean City in Kanto for instance. Whatever takes your fancy. Once the game begins, you find yourself in your hometown with instructions to get to the nearest post office to collect your Pokédex, freshly delivered from Prof. Oak's Mail Order Pokédex Co.

With your Pokédex in your backpack, the next task would be to take your pick of one of three starters from the local Pokémon centre. Starters depend on the region of the world your hometown is in. Hoenn starters would be different from Johto starters for instance. Once you have your first Pokémon, and a stash of pokeballs helpfully given to you by Nurse Joy to help get you started, you can venture out into the wide world and begin your journey to become a Pokémon master.

Wild Pokémon levels would not be able to steadily climb upwards as you get further away from your hometown like they do in the portable games because of the fact that every town in Pokémon Universe can be somebody's hometown. As a result, out on the field there would be no random battles. Wild Pokémon levels would be widely variable to account for trainers of greatly different strengths being in the area, having travelled from all over the world. You can pick your battles as levels will be shown hovering above any wild Pokémon you see.

Of course, the real meat of any Pokémon game is battling other trainers, and again, this being an MMO, trainer strengths would not be able to steadily increase as the player progresses like they do in the core titles. To help level the playing field, every trainer is assigned to a division based upon the average level of the Pokémon in your squad by the Pokémon League. New trainers start in the lowest division and climb to a higher one each time they defeat a gym leader from the division that they are ranked in. Out in the field, you can offer to battle anybody, but the trainer in the lower division can chose to decline a battle if he or she wants. This should help avoid the new trainers being constantly demolished by old hands.

The aim of the game is still to beat each region's gym leaders and take on the regional elite four, with the goal of defeating each region's elite four to become a world Pokémon champion. Each gym will have a leader for each division, and players can join a monthly divisional tournament to reign as gym leader for a certain division. Since gym leaders only use one type of Pokémon, tournaments will also have a type restriction. Once you have been a gym leader for the lv50+ division, you can enter a monthly elite four tournament. The winner of that tournament is the elite four champion, with the four runners up assigned as the regional elite four. A tournament of elite four champions could be open to determine the champion of champions.

Elsewhere there should be plenty of side quests. You could go fossil hunting and try to resurrect yourself an Aerodactyl. You could choose to join Team Rocket. NPCs in towns would offer story based quests, often based around stories from the Pokémon anime. There would, of course, be trading, breeding, and versions of the many mini games that have appeared throughout the franchise history. There would be a stadium for those players who just wanted to battle or for those who just fancy spectating on a huge rumble. You could go hunting for legendary Pokémon. There would obviously be more than one of each, this being an MMO, but would still be super rare. Perhaps you need a special pokeball to be able to catch them, only available after defeating a regional elite four. A major sidequest would be photography, using the GamePad as a camera a la Pokémon snap, creating pictures that could be shared in a gallery or in the MiiVerse. You could even ride larger Pokémon as mounts, like a less conventional version of the famous Pokémon bicycle. The possibilities are wide and varied.

Obviously there are one or two hurdles that would need to be overcome. Voice chat and moderation would be the biggest of these, especially with Nintendo's obvious need to keep things safe for the kids. Although it's not insurmountable. Perhaps Nintendo could lock voice chat to people who have shared friend codes, with communication with others in the vein of Phantasy Star Online on the Dreamcast, through certain text phrases and a set of symbols.

A Pokémon MMO would work, and most importantly, would sell a boatload of Wii Us. We'd all like to see one, and perhaps, if we're lucky, we might even get one. Do it for the fans Nintendo. We'd play the hell out of it. Bring us the Pokémon MMO and wipe away the debt.

PS. Mr Iwata, if you see this and would like to use it. I'd like 1% commission on the profits please!

Wiped Out

It has just come to my attention via Twitter (thanks @AmiNakajima) that it has been a year since the closure of Studio Liverpool and the hopefully impermanent death of WipeOut. I personally think that ending the WipeOut franchise and laying off the staff of Studio Liverpool was one of the worst decisions Sony ever made. However, this post is an excuse for me to get misty eyed, not lambast Sony on a corporate decision.

Wipeout 2097 is, for me at least, the game that started it all. The moment where games ceased to be just toys and became something more. It was January 1997 I was in year 8 at school. I was over at a friend's house for the first time since Christmas. He'd got a  PlayStation and told me that it had arrived with something amazing. It was exciting. We both had MegaDrives and we initially connected over a love of Sonic 2.

I had a MegaCD too. Dad got it just after the PlayStation was first released because he thought it was pretty much the same thing. Up until that point, the most technically advanced game I'd ever played was Thunderhawk, which was and still is awesome and you should play it.

Anyway, back to WipeOut. My friend fired up his new PlayStation and I heard that famous Bwoaaaarr-tinkle for the very first time, then the swoosh-ting of the PlayStation logo. All of a sudden, there was FMV. Full screen FMV! Not in a tiny window like on my MegaCD. There was a weird cat thing, a sweep over a racetrack then BOOM. Two racing ships flew though an explosion and an utterly banging song dropped in. I still remember the size of my grin and how wide my eyes were. This was like nothing I'd seen or heard before. Hitherto unknown synapses were firing in my brain.

That song... It did strange things to my twelve year old mind.

The main menu slammed into the screen to the sound of another explosion. Loops of Fury by the Chemical Brothers played in the background. My friend wasted no time, before I knew it there was a strangely shaped pad in my hands, I was on the startline of Talon's Reach and I could hear the distinctive wailing guitar line of Firestarter by the Prodigy. I was struck by how effortlessly cool this all was, and by how I shouldn't really be listening to what I was listening to. There was a bit of a moral panic surrounding the Prodigy at the time. They were a dangerous band, my mom was up in arms about them, it just made everything feel even cooler.

My first race went badly. I remember it being almost uncontrolably fast. I bounced off walls and got left in the dust by the other ships. At the same time I was still in the throes of that 'this is the most amazing thing in the history of ever' feeling. The speed was the most exhilarating thing I'd ever experienced, the graphics far and away the best I'd ever seen, the ships felt like they really were floating, the weapons hit hard, and the music was incredible.

All this from one race at vector class. I was impressionable and easily amazed at that age.

I was hooked. We passed the pad around for about three hours, right up until the moment my dad came to get me. In time, I gradually began to master the handling and we managed to get up to the heady heights of venom class. Dad bought me home buzzing and I told him I wanted, nay, needed a PlayStation. We weren't that well off when I was a kid. I got a PlayStation with WipeOut 2097 the following Christmas. My parents had been saving for it all year.

There were other games, but none had the effect that WipeOut had on me. My nacent musical taste formed around it, I discovered new artists with each instalment and gained a love of music that I retain to this day. It introduced me to The Designer's Republic and the concept of graphic design, leading to two years at college as a fairly rubbish art student trying and failing to replicate the game's minimalist aesthetic. Zone mode taught me about the buzz that only extreme speed can give, and along with Road Rash, is one of the main reasons I own a sports motorcycle that is far to fast for my own good. Most importantly though, and I've said this earlier, WipeOut showed me that games can be far more than just fancy toys. They have their own culture around them. WipeOut bought my loyalty to the PlayStation brand and shaped the way I play games.

I owned a PS1 because of 2097. I still play Wip3Out sporadically. Even though I never actually got Fusion, I still bought my PS2 because the demo I played of it blew my mind. I bought a PSP because of Pure, then bought Pulse on release day. And even though circumstance meant I got an 360 to stay in touch with my gaming mates more easily when they moved away, I still created a PSN account, got WipeOut HD and Fury on my housemate's PS3, then wound up playing on his console more than he actually did. The only reason I didn't buy a Vita after thirty seconds of 2048 is because I couldn't afford it at that very moment. It made me very sad.

WipeOut is PlayStation. The PS4 will have a huge gap in it's library without it. I'd have a huge gap in my life without it. Maybe I'd even be a slightly different person, such is that one game's influence upon me. Hopefully the WipeOut franchise doesn't stay gone for long.

And now, something a little different.

I return! From a week's holiday on the Jurassic Coast. And I return with an urge to try something a little different. Not too different though, this is a games blog after all, although this post will perhaps stretch the definition a little. Outside of playing games all the time, I'm a big music fan, and I'm beginning to find myself owning a couple of videogame OSTs. Before I started the blog, I'd always wanted to try writing an album review, and here I find myself with an opportunity.

I'm a big fan of Bastion. Its beautiful art style, story, soundtrack and narrator come together to create a game with a unique bluesy atmosphere. An atmosphere that manages to overcome the title's slightly repetitive dungeon crawler gameplay. It's a game that it's just enjoyable to spend time with, whilst you have a story told to you by a man with a voice so smooth, it feels like he's having sex with your ears while wearing a condom made of the finest blue velvet.

The greatest contribution to the feel of Bastion is made by its unique soundtrack. I liked it so much that I asked for the album for Christmas.

Open the beautifully adorned case and slide the CD out of its sleeve, into the stereo and touch Play. The CD spins up and the hollow sound of someone playing the blues on an acoustic guitar in the background spills from the speakers. After a couple of chords, you are greeted by the honeyed tones of Logan Cunninghan as Rucks on Get Used To It. He delivers a short monologue on how 'the folks of Caelondia could really carry a tune' then the strumming drops away and the track cuts to the breathless minute and a bit of strumming, hammer-ons and pull-offs of A Proper Story.

If Get Used To It and A Proper Story serve as the introduction to the album, it is the third track, In Case of Trouble that really sets the tone of the rest of the disc. It begins with a lone guitar playing a mellowed variation of a prominent guitar lick from the previous track. The song begins to build as the sound of a Cello swells in to accompany the guitar, and before you know it, composer Darren Korb has layered in strings and a complex yet sympathetically programmed beat that sounds for everything like it was pounded out on wood blocks.

That wood block beat is an early pointer at the instrumental range of this album. Either Korb is an outrageously talented multi instrumentalist, or he is a fabulously talented synth programmer. I suspect it's actually a combination of both, and while the core of most of the songs is based around guitar, the sheer number of other instruments in use, as well as the various guitar effects and tunings, merits comment. There are hazy opium den sitars over a reverb drenched blues lead, backed by something that sounds for everything like a harpsichord on The Sole Regret. On Slinger's Song a banjo played with a slide teases out a riff over a spaghetti western guitar accompaniment and subtle pulsing bass. Elsewhere, there are furiously played strings, Indian tabla drums, wailing overdriven guitars and something that sounds suspiciously like a harp. And that's just for starters. There are all manner of sounds on here from instruments I couldn't hope to name. It's hard to believe this is all the work of one man recording in his flat.

I would go as far to say that it is this sheer sonic diversity is what makes this album a compelling listen in its own right, not just as a good videogame OST. It's endlessly interesting.

 

Of course, any discussion of the Bastion OST wouldn't be complete without mention of it's twin centrepieces, Build That Wall and Mother, I'm here. A pair of ballads as stripped back as it is possible to be, just a lone voice and a guitar. They are sung from the perspective of two characters in the game, one, a folk song about the differences between the two peoples of Caelondia, the other, the voice of an outcast yearning to return home. The two songs are beautiful, and as good as anything by any mainstream artist.

 

One final mention goes to The Pantheon, a good old fashioned blues number with Logan Cunningham's buttery voiced Rucks on lead vocals. It's a fantastically strong way to close out the album, with Rucks sounding almost like a gravellier Chris Rea.

 

I love this album, and would heartily recommend it to any music fan be they gamer or no. Every track has something different to offer and you notice more and more with repeated listens. Buy the game, play it through and soak in its world. Then buy the album and let its sounds take you back there.

 

Three thumbs up.