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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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DPS Story: Surgery Day

The sky was still dark when he was getting ready. It had been quite a long time since he had to get up as early as he was, as last he checked the clock, it had shown a bright 5:50 am in its digital readout. He was expected to be there by 6:30 am, his only blessing going out so early was that not even the construction workers were on the road yet to delay anything. He was already outside, having said goodbye to his brother, waiting for his taxi to take him all the way to the hospital, where he would have to undergo surgery.

The ride to the hospital was long and silent. John tried his best to speak to the driver, to stoke up some conversation, both to put his own mind at ease while keeping himself awake, but the driver had little interest to reciprocate the notion. The driver didn't want to be out on the roads this early in the morning, but in John's defense, neither did he.

As they arrived at the front doors of the hospital, John couldn't help but marvel just how quiet it was. Not a soul was in sight, though he had no idea who to have expected to see so early in the morning. He made his way inside and followed the helpful signs on the walls directing him to the central hub, in which other signs indicated different wards of the facility. The clock overseeing the hub indicating 6:20 am. Nothing was open, not even the information desk, his only option was to sit nearby registration to make sure he wasn't late. As time progressed, more people were coming into the lobby, propagating around the seating area with him. He would guess about 10 other people arriving, not one looking like they were hospital staff. He would assume they were also scheduled for some sort of treatment this early in the morning.

As the time rolled along, the metal curtain of the registration desk opened up. Everyone began to line up, some going so far as to inject themselves in the middle of the line as if getting registered earlier was a benefit. Having been the very first to arrive, John was the last of now 15 people to approach the desk for admittance.

“Hi, my name is John D. Oh. I'm here for surgery.”

The receptionist took his ID and forms, giving them a quick scan before handing his card back. “Just follow the others, dear,” she said. “Seems like everyone's getting themselves patched up before the first frost.”

He gave a chuckled to her and did as instructed. John looked around at the others assembled, and began to wonder if they needed the same kind of work done as he did, or if there was something more. He wouldn't ask them, it would be rude to have, but all the same, his curiosity left him intrigued, and distracted.

All assembled were then greeted by one of the Nurses working the OR ward, one of many they would all meet at one point in their venture. “Just follow me, and I will show you to your respective rooms,” she said. As a unit, they followed their leader for only a few short minutes, leading them to an area with a large waiting room, and few changing rooms. “You three, come with me, the others please wait until you are called.” John was one of those picked and was given the last of the three changing rooms close by.

The room was small, with only a few cabinets, a table, a clock, a chair, and a medical bed before him. As he entered, he was instructed to wait until the Nurse returned for further information. It was now 6:45 am, his body and mind were fully awake by this point, and with this awareness came an onset of anxiety. This was the first procedure he could ever remember going through, and while friends and staff were confident of a successful operation, he couldn't help but wonder the possibilities before him, of potential and unfortunate outcomes. He shook his head and distracted himself with what he would do once he was more mobile during his recovery.

By 6:50 am the Nurse knocked on the door and entered, with her a large, warm smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked him.

“I'm okay, could use a nap or a bagel.”

She laughed a little. “Well, we'll see what we can do for you when you're able to keep down solids, and in terms of a nap that will be provided during the surgery.” John noticed she had with her a bag with some sort of cloth inside. “Inside here is the gown and shoes you'll be wearing before we get into the operating room. Oh, and have they asked about family history, history of reactions to anaesthesia, or if you've been under medication prior to last night?”

“Quite a few times,” John said.

She only smiled and nodded, placing the bag onto the bed. “We just need to be sure you will be fine during the operation. We don't want anything bad to happen as much as you do.” She took a few steps toward the door and turned back to him. “Just place your clothes and belongings into the bag. We'll lock it up for you until you're ready for it again. Otherwise, just get into the gown and knock on the door when you're ready.” And after a flash of a smile once more, she left the room.

As he took of each individual piece of clothing, slowly, his mind was left to wander once more. 'Was he going to be alright' was the forefront in his mind. If he wasn't, was everyone looked after? He could only guess they would be, having enough in his savings for things to be paid off. And he thought of everything that would need to be paid. Even with that certainty given, by this point he was in his boxers and shirt, John still felt nervous about the procedure. He felt himself shake but knew he had no choice but to follow through with it at this point. What would he say, and how would they feel, if they found out he ran away from this? He was now dressed in the gown, his clothes were placed in the bag and onto the bed. There was nothing more for him to do now. He knocked on the door. The door opened, and together with the Nurse, they proceeded to the operating room.

The hallways were chilled, despite the temperate weather outside the hospital walls. John's skin bristled with goosebumps. Polypropylene footwear and a cloth gown weren't the warmest garments he had ever worn. He must have shuttered without his knowledge as the accompanying Nurse side-glanced to him and smiled.

“If you think it's cool in here, just wait 'til we get into the actual room.”

John chuckled. “Well, it's a good thing I like Winter.”

Both patient and hospital staff shared a laugh for a moment.

“Are you nervous?” the Nurse asked. “Even just a little bit?”

“Nah,” Jack said, keeping a hand on the knot of his gown, “this is all routine for you guys by now. I doubt I have anything to worry about with professionals at the helm.”

“We do have our best people on today, you're in great hands.”

“Ah great, that makes me feel a lot better about this.” Though in the back of his mind there was still a little uncertainty. Not for the words he spoke, which were not lies by any measure, but rather for the unknown before him. He would mention this to friends and family when he had recovered some, but this was the first time he had anything major done to him in his life. He has gone to the doctor for medications and check-ups, but in terms of a major procedure, be it surgery or other such treatments, his mother could not even recall such.

When they finally made it to the room, John took a quick, though rather unnecessary look around. The technology he had only seen in television and movies were placed strategically around the large room. Overhead lamps and rolling carts already assembled with surgical tools were placed in certain areas of the bed where he would be laying in. Inside the room as well were four other medical professionals, all of which had their tasks already assigned to them.

“These lovely folks are here to assist with the surgery,” the Nurse said with a smile, motioning to other similarly dressed individuals in the room. “They know exactly what they're doing, and will make sure that you are okay, and the operation goes well for the Doctor.”

John gave a brave smile. “It's nice to meet you all.”

An assortment of waves and hellos were given, at least they too were friendly this early in the morning.

“Come over here, John, and get yourself laid down on this surgical bed.”

John approached the bed. It was small, smaller than the Twin XL mattress in his room. Even the frame seemed to be weaker than his box spring. But he knew that hospitals were equipped to deal with men and women of almost his stature, and it wasn't as though he were a large man by any means. He first sat on it and was amazed just how comfortable it felt. Without hesitating further, he swung his legs onto the bed, and the rest of him laid straight down. As small and oddly shaped it was, it supported his entire frame rather well. As a thought, he wondered if getting a small recliner would be better than just a bed; however, these thoughts, along with any other he had at the moment, would need to wait.

“Comfy?” another Nurse asked, a male one, with a soft voice yet muscular appearance.

“I can't argue about it actually,” John said.

This Nurse laughed. “Half the time before the operation, some of the patients will complain about how stiff it feels or whatever, and when they do I'll just say jokingly, 'well don't worry about it too much, you'll be asleep before too long anyway'.”

This prompted a laugh and a few inquisitive statements from the other staff, and just a laugh from John.

“Well in any case,” his original Nurse said, “just lay back and relax, and let us fuss over you for the next few or so hours, how about that?”

John nodded, “I'm in your hands.”

Thus began the pre-operation ritual all but John knew about. One Nurse would tell him that his gown would be adjusted so they had access to his upper torso, for the sensors to be placed, and so there were no obstructions for the surgery. John nodded and agreed. Another Nurse with a colleague approached and mentioned that they were going to attach a sensor on his finger for the heart monitor. John nodded and agreed.

Then another, with the Nurse he became familiar with, approached. “So now we're gonna get ready here. The doctor is on his way, and he says we're good to go with getting you ready for sleep. In the past, we used a gas mixed with oxygen to administer the anaesthesia, but now it is done with an IV solution. It's painless, a lot more effective.”

“Oh good, I'd like to have a pain free surgery for my first time.”

The pair chuckled, “consider it done.”

The Nurses went to work, first acquiring the IV solution and setting it up beside the surgical bed. Then it was securing both the proper vein in which to place the needle into and then inserting such needle into the arm. John felt the tiniest sting of the needle as it was inserted, and while he wasn't aware of it, the IV began to flow seamlessly into his system.

“Alright, we're ready to go,” said his first Nurse, looking down at him and smiling. “We're going to put a mask over you now. It's filled with pure oxygen to help you breathe a little easier. In no time you'll be drifting off to sleep, and before you know it you'll be awake in the recovery ward wondering where you are. The doctor is just preparing himself and will see you when you're asleep. From here on out, we've got you safe in our hands.”

John made one last smile. “Well then, good night.”

“We'll see you in the morn- ah, afternoon.”

The mask was placed onto his mouth and nose. He was instructed to breathe in and out as he had practiced before in other medical appointments. He began to, and as he was given praise for his good work in doing so, he began making some mental observations to distract himself. He marveled how young and cute some of the female nurses were, and yet having years of experience in their field, something that he appreciated. He was even more curious about the male Nurse and his physique. It was not often one would meet someone in the medical field looking like an athlete.

Then he began to do a checklist of everything he made sure of before he left for the surgery. It was far too late to alter anything if he had not done so, and he would not have the ability nor the time to instruct anyone else to ensure the checks were correct. If such checks were even needed at all. He knew this was a routine, and thus otherwise an uncomplicated operation, but being a man of contingency plans, and a past of tragedy, he didn't want to leave anything to chance. He hoped his brother knew to check the necessary places for that plan to go through, but he could not control that.

While his anxiety about the event was fading, a brief feeling of resignation formed. If this was really how his end would come, if it came at all, then he was okay with it. He had met some interesting people and his life and knew that he would be missed by most if not all he had known. He knew it was silly to think like that, and knew he would wake up, he held onto that hope with a passion, but he also made sure to make peace with himself should something happen.

His breathing, meanwhile, remained at a deepened and slow pace, one adjusted that he would normally have done when going to sleep normally. Deep breaths going into the nostrils for 5 seconds, and out through the mouth until there was nothing left. Another observation he thought of was how strange pure oxygen smelled of. It was very distinct, yet something he could not place specifically. Almost a sweet aroma, a very pleasant scent.

Then something happened, something that caught him off guard. As he tried to draw in another breath, he found that he was unable to. He tried again to no avail. This is it, he thought to himself, trying to remain calm as to not alarm the Nurses. He listened to the voices and the instruments around him, and nothing made an indication of his current predicament. Yet as he tried once more to draw breath, he found that his body was no longer willing to do so. And just before he could have done something to show his worry – he fell asleep.

When he woke, he did just as his Nurse predicted: He wondered where he was. The room he resided in was vastly different than the one he was placed in currently. It was a lot warmer too, so he knew he was no longer in the OR ward. He was covered in a thick, white bed sheet from his shoulders to his feet. As his senses were coming back to him – and thankfully his breathing – he could also feel that the sheet was the only thing covering him now. But that feeling was a low tier concern for him.

“Good morning,” came the voice of one last Nurse he would speak to.

“Morning,” John said quietly.

“How are you feeling? Nauseous? Dizzy?”

“Tired...”

“Do you want to sleep some more? I can always come back and see how you are then.”

“Mm no... I'm awake now.”

“Well, let's see how well you are.”

He wouldn't need to stay in the recovery room for longer than he needed to. After a short assessment followed by a couple pieces of toast, they allowed him to call for a ride and make his way home. When he arrived at the hospital, it was still the dark of the night, and now in the early afternoon, it was bright and sunny, if not a little cool due to the wind. He didn't mind it though, as it was a reminder he was still around, and his contingency plan never needed to be implemented. He smiled to himself, as he waited in the wheelchair with his Nurse for his ride. He was glad that it was finally over, and after several weeks of proper rest, things would be back to normal for him. He just hoped he would never have to experience that form of treatment ever again.

#DPS story #hospital #surgery #inspiration #based on truth

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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Reunion (DPS Story)

I want to say that I'm probably the most honest man you will ever meet. Never once have I touched a drop of Bacchus's wine, touched the Devil's Lettuce, nor indulged in the more heinous or destructive drugs ever to exist. I'm not what you would call a poet, a novelist, nor even someone that can dream anything creative. I am dull as a man my age could be, but still happily married and gainfully employed. So when it comes for me to tell you this story, let me say that in its entirety that it's real. At no point have I changed events, names, or even places to protect the innocent - not that there had been any wrongdoing at all that night. And let me make it perfectly clear, I am not a superstitious man either, but it certainly has created a believer into that world in me.

During a business trip to Ireland last year, I found myself in a quaint little village by the sea. For the life of me, I can't remember its name, but I do recall there being a cliff with a gorgeous view of the sunrise only ten minutes away from it. Four other colleagues and I stopped there for the night on the way to a convention. Given we had all the time in the world to make it to our destination and have traveled a fair distance from the airport in Dublin, we figured we could use a bit of a rest from the trip. We stayed in separate rooms, bid ourselves good night, and to meet up with one another at 9 am to resume the rest of the trip. The others hit the bar, I decided to go to my room.

For how warm and inviting an inn such as this is in a nice little village, there isn't a lot to do in the room itself. Not like what you expect to find at a Holiday Inn or Travel Lodge, but in 2018 you would expect some modern conveniences. The place didn't even have a charging dock for my cell phone, and of course, I would forget my charger at home of all times. No wifi access to connect to the internet on my laptop, either, which meant even going on Facebook or even Youtube was out of the question for entertainment. It had a TV, sure, but I was never one to watch TV before bed. So, I did the next best thing when you're as bored as I was: Try to sleep.

I will say what this village inn did have over the comforts of a Holiday Inn, very comfortable and homey sheets. It was as if someone took the time to research what sort of bedding my grandparents would have used in their time, and added all the comforts of that era. Despite how awake I was, I managed to get myself a little bit tired enough that sleep would not be impossible to obtain at that moment. Getting into just my boxers, wrapping myself up in the sheets and blanket, I let my eyes closed and began to slow my breathing. I felt so relaxed, so tired, the bed was so wonderful. I was having doubts I could even leave it in the morning. I was half-way there, I could feel it, about to lose that consciousness and pass out.

Come to me...

My eyes opened up immediately. I could have sworn I heard a voice, beckoning me somewhere, but I had no idea where it would come from. Most of the other patrons were in the pub, and it sounded more like it came from inside my room than the other side of the door. “I must have woken myself up from a dream,” I told myself, chuckling before settling down again for a second attempt.

Come to me...

There it was again. The voice of someone I had never heard of before. It was certainly a woman's voice and a fairly young one at that. A young adult probably, someone who had either finished high school late or was already in college. In any case, she was adamant that I go to her, but I had no idea where she could have been, or what she would have wanted from me. I took another look in the room, making sure no one was making a prank just because I wouldn't get drunk with them.

“Okay, really funny,” I said, taking one last look. “If I need to find you, I will, but don't assume you won't get out of this unpunished.” It was an empty threat, I wouldn't know what I could do to an obvious prankster. But at the same time, I also didn't want her to think I would go soft after bothering me.

Come to me...

She called to me once more, yet this time, and perhaps it was from me being a little more awake and alert to the situation, hearing her say that felt a little unusual, or off-putting. It wasn't that I was lightheaded, but I certainly had the symptom of such a thing happening to me, which is as best a description of the feeling I could think of. The more upsetting aspect about it, in retrospect, was that the feeling was more welcoming than bothersome. At the time it didn't register to me that being the case, but remembering back on it now, it most certainly was. All I knew what to do then was to go outside. No matter what the feeling was doing to me, cooler air would be better than warmer if I was lightheaded. A change of clothes later, and I left the inn without my colleagues realizing.

The night air in Ireland seemed crisper and cleaner than it ever did at home. I didn't question it, instead, I enjoyed the late evening chill. My lightheaded feeling was gone, at least for the moment. I began to look around at the night sky and marveled at the glorious sight above me. Having been a city boy all my life, I never was able to see the number of stars I was able to see now. It was beautiful, seeing the night sky shimmering like it was, almost like seeing the shimmer of light against freshly fallen snow against a black background. I thought about staying awake for at least another hour to star gaze.

Come to me...

But as I heard her voice once more, a weird compulsion struck me. Before it was a personal mission to find her and tell her to leave me in peace. Now it was just to find her, for what reason I didn't even know. I brought my head down from the heavens and looked around my immediate area. Without the convenience of street lights every twenty feet, I couldn't see anything in the dark of night. The big oak trees I saw early in the evening when the sun was still setting into the sea, were essentially gone in the darkness. It was impossible to tell what from what passed the beacon of light that was the electricity of the inn.

Yet, against the black of the night, I saw something standing out in its illumination on top of the cliffs overlooking the sea. It was hard to tell what it was at first, the source of the light only surrounded by a light blue aura. The likes of it I had never seen before, but it was certainly something I wanted to witness closer. The road to it was clear, a grassy plain with the occasional rock that I tripped over and cursed. My mindset didn't even register the pain I would have normally felt tripping over something that hard, my focus was on the light and approaching it. I didn't even know why, it went beyond curiosity as if going there was somehow a purpose I had long forgotten, and tonight was the night I dreamt of.

By this point, I was about a good thirty steps away from the glowing light, which was becoming more solid and identifiable as I came closer. The light was being cast off a person, a woman given her body shape. At twenty-five steps, I saw perfect long flowing hair, which almost looked like a liquid for how unnaturally wavy it was in the breeze of the sea. At twenty steps I saw that she wore something white and long, a dress of some sort. By fifteen steps I saw the detail in the dress, looking very gorgeous with the frills and the seams, almost like a wedding dress. By ten steps I stopped.

"You came..."

As I gazed upon her, I lightly gulped down, while an unexpected tinge of nervousness hit me. I couldn't explain it, it was like I was meeting her again, but I never met her before. I had so many questions about who she was and what was happening, but apparently, my mouth had other plans for me.

“I could not leave you any longer.”

I blinked quickly, what the hell was I saying? It didn't make sense. Who was she that I knew her so well? When she turned to look at me, it was like my heart sank twice. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, but I noticed something as she turned. She was rather transparent. She was a ghost! But yet even as this revelation sat, I didn't flinch, as if I expected that.

“I waited so long...” she said woefully, and I could almost feel myself tear up before I spoke.

“I know. When we sailed, a terrible storm hit us. We were driven off course and made way to a new land. We had no idea where we were, or if we would ever go home again. The captain told us we should make the most of our new life. I could not have wanted another lover, not with you in my heart, but I did go into the arms of another woman.” For whatever reason, I bit my lip. “I was a fool, she had only comforted me in a lonely night, but we did not love each other. My thoughts, prayers, heart, and soul were bound to you, my love. And I found my way back to you.”

She seemed to smile at that, but I had no idea what I was talking about. “Then come to me... and let's go home, my love.” And even before I thought of taking a step forward, as if mentally to continue this game, something else happened. My vision was clouded by the same light blue aura that was covering her, and in a matter of seconds, I realized what happened. Another ghost had come from out of my body and manifested itself as a gentleman very similar to myself. He walked up to her, took her hands, kissed the back of one, and looked into her eyes while she did to his. Then the ghosts disappeared, and just like that, the light around them faded as well. I was left stunned, confused, and certainly a little tired. I needed answers, but they'd wait for the morning.

That night, when I returned to my room, I slept like a log, so hard that one of my colleagues poured water on my face – with the owner's permission apparently. We were going to be late if I slept in a little longer. I told them about what happened last night, but knowing they wouldn't believe me I made the story up like a dream I couldn't shake. It seemed too fantastical to have been real, they said, and they could have been right, but I wanted to ask around just to be sure.

As it appeared, only one person knew the possibility of the story I told. He was an old timer, probably in his hundreds, and he remarked on the story:

“Aye, I know. A young lass, born to the leader of the village, went and got engaged to a seafarin' man. The day before the weddin', his Captain wanted to do some fishin' out deep in the sea when a storm hit. Some say the winds got so bad it sent them all the way to America. And I guess that lass has been waitin' for him ever since.”

When I think back to what happened, it's like one of those weird ghost stories you hear about over campfires. Or at the very least a cartoon. Then I thought about it. My great great grandmother was a woman who gave birth to a child from wedlock but married her to keep the peace with her family. When I realize that and think of the possibility of who this man is, it makes me smile. To this day, even if it's a weird thing to treasure, I was able to reunite my great great grandfather with his first love from beyond the grave.

#DPS Story #digital penstroke #ghosts #love

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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DPS Story - Second Voyage

His resolve was absolute, and yet when he reached the edge of the plank he found himself hesitating just enough to take a look around the ship and the surrounding area. The air was cold, the dark skies threatened a storm approaching, and the winds weren't so gentle as he hoped. The ship itself was empty, though of course it had been, he thought, he had stolen it while the rest of the crew were off enjoying themselves. But could it be said that he really stole it? He was the Captain after all, so the ship was his despite what they might have said to the contrary. If he wanted to bring people aboard, he could. If he wanted to kill someone out at sea in it, he could. If he wanted to take it out to God knows where so that he could end his life, that too was his privilege.

He was old, or at least he outlasted the age expectancy of someone his reputation and profession. If it wasn't another pirate out to make a name for himself, it would have been the gallows if he were caught, and after fifty years sailing the Caribbean, he managed to avoid both effortlessly. He had amassed a great fortune in his time, riches he knew he couldn't take with him. And, in a moment of selflessness, left it all to his first mate to divide with the rest, leaving that responsibility to his most trusted friend and confidant, as well as the chance to leave the daft idiots if he chose to.

It took him a moment to refocus his mind to the matter at hand. As he looked back to the watery depths below him, he saw how calm the surface was despite the chilly wind. But that didn't matter to him. Whether the weather was good to him or not, the end result was going to be the same. He closed his eyes tight. He took a couple deep breaths, then as he began to feel the emotions of the event take hold of him, drew in one last, laboured, deep breath into him, then took his final step off the plank and into the waiting waters below.

Almost immediately his other senses began to tell him what his sight wouldn't be able to. The cold oceans of the Atlantic were biting him to the bone. When he finally allowed his eyes to open, they could only see the darkness that began to surround him. Ever so slowly did the air in his lungs leave through his mouth, forming small bubbles that quickly rose to the surface. After some time, the last of it would leave him, and what once had oxygen would soon hold sea water. He felt his body go into a panic, becoming so desperate for the next breath of air, but he would deny it, simply letting his body go limp against the currents of the ocean.

He blinked his eyes, feeling the salt of the water sting them ever so slightly. Of what little he could see underneath the waves, he was starting to see less of it as his vision began darkening while his consciousness seeped away. He felt no dread for this eventual end, nor was he particularly happy about doing it. His mind was no longer on himself, but rather those he was about to leave behind, as well as the life he lived. On his crew and the good times they shared, all the adventures he shared with them, on his beloved wife and how he-

His mind became distracted, he felt a disturbance of the tide's current, a drifting movement of a large creature. A shark, he guessed, or some other meat eater waiting patiently for its meal to be prepared. Though not a pleasant end, he felt he may as well contribute to the great circle of life in some way. He let his eyes close now, having accepted his fate it no longer bothered him what would happen to his body. Even with his senses dimmed, he could still the presence of the creature, encircling him like a buzzard, waiting for that perfect moment to strike.

But it wasn't the clasp of teeth around his legs, nor the hefty tug of a bruising beasting, but rather soft yet smooth lips upon his own. The lips of a woman. Even before his eyes fully opened, he could feel a sense of renewed strength flow throughout his body. His lung felt miraculously empty, the chill of the sea seemed less of a burden on his form than it had, and as his eyes opened the darkness that was surrounding his vision seemed to have lifted.

Before he had a moment to register his newfound lease on life, a sudden tugging sensation, as if being pulled by some unnatural power, and dragged him not further into the abyss but rather upwards, breaking through the surface of the ocean. As he met with the air above him he gasped heavily for air, allowing the oxygen to flow back into his body and fill his lungs to their capacity. When he opened his eyes, he knew he was still close by his ship, but instead of climbing back aboard to gather his thoughts, he opted instead to the nearest rock formation, a place of leverage against the waves that wished to reclaim him. As he climbed a fair bit onto the rock, he sat against its sloped earth and scanned the dark ocean for his saviour. He didn't have to search long, as he saw the creature that saved his life.

A woman, or at least what appeared to be one. She swam slowly to the rock he rested on and stopped to look up at him. Her black hair clung against her form, her skin looked fair despite the apparent length of time she submerged in the water – his own skin showing the wrinkled signs of prolonged water exposure. He saw her gorgeous blue eyes, though there was nothing about her appearance that wasn't enchanting, not even her angel-like face, which greeted him with the warmest of smiles. Though despite her looks and kindness, he could only look to her with a forlorn expression.

“I know what ye be,” he began, “and on any other day, I'd be showerin' ye wit' nothin' but adoration and praise. But ye did this old sailor a disservice, and denied him a long-sought sleep.”

The creature, a mermaid, stared back at him curiously. She couldn't recognize his words, she nor the rest of her kind had no use for the sort of language. But the kinship she felt for his kind drew an understanding of his tone.

He let out a soft sigh. “I know ye don't understand, and I don't expect ye to. Ye cannot know what my true pain is, the one that is in me heart.”

He placed a hand onto his chest and clenched it, showing a sadness in his face. The mermaid tilted her head to him, once more curious of his reactions and his tones. She mimicked his actions, with questions going through her mind. Was he in pain? Her healing abilities should have tended to whatever wounds he felt. But he looked sad. She slowly approached the rock, leaning up against it and staring up toward him, more intrigued than she was before.

“It's me Eleanor... In me younger days there was naught a woman I wouldn't bed when me boat went to harbour. But she, Poseidon preserve, was a creature too precious for this world. No treasure could compare. She took me hand knowin' what I be, even comin' and helpin' in the raids.” He lowered his head. “T'was not disease or scoundrel that slew her, t'was just natural causes... so say the surgeon.” He felt a small bubble form in his throat, and he promptly pushed it down. “Not a day goes by that I wish I could feel her hand in mine again...”

The mermaid listened to the pirate. She could hear the sadness in his voice, but she didn't know what she could do to help. In her mind, the task instructed by her nature had been completed, she was free to leave. But the more she listened to him speak, the sadder she felt for him. She wanted to make him feel happy, to make him smile. With her strength, she lifted her body out of the water and onto the rocks, her slender, human-like frame giving way to the Dolphin shaped lower body such beings had. She approached as far as she could, and looking at the hand still holding his chest, took it gently into her hands. The old pirate blinked but slightly smiled.

“Ye wish to understand an old fool?” He chuckled, “yet can't even understand me rantin's.” But he let out a small sigh. “Ye wish to help, but there's naught ye can do. I be a man waitin' for the day to rejoin his wife, but I guess ye be tellin' me now isn't my time.”

He squeezed the mermaid's hands gently, which startled her at first, but did so in return as it seemed to help him. She looked on into his eyes, seeing almost another spark ignite within them, a crackle of hope and life that wasn't there before. She tilted her head again and placed her right hand onto her chest. He smiled at her.

“Aye... me heart still breaks for her, an' I cannot think of life the same without her...” His smile became somber, closing his eyes for just a moment before looking back at her. “...but she'd call me a daft ass if I left this world like that. I woulda dishonored what that lass saw in me, an' what she meant to me, by lettin' the tides drift me away. That's what ye be tryin' to tell me, isn't it?”

The question was met with confused silence. To her mind, whatever he was saying seemed sad, and if her holding his hand was enough to break that melancholy, then she was more than happy to have helped him again. She offered him a smile, a warm and kind one, before placing one last kiss on his cheek and suddenly jumping back into the depths of the water below. The pirate watched her go, the displacement of the water's surface evident as she moved along it until he was unable to after a short while.

“Ah... I see it now,” he said, while smile once more warmed by the message behind it all. “I longed to see ye again, but ye think it's too soon for me to go. Ye brought that little sea-angel to help me too, didn't ya?” His question didn't go unanswered, as the clouds slowly began to give way, and the first beam of light shone across the ocean. He nodded slowly and lifted to his feet. “Well, best be gettin' back to the crew. Wait for me, Eleanor, I be with ye soon."

The old pirate managed to get himself back on board, and with some great effort on his part, returned the ship to sail. His mind raced on what possible new adventures would await him and his crew, and what this second chance in life could mean for him. The choices seemed endless to him now. As he sailed off, his guardian angel watched the large vessel leave the confines of the rocks and leave for open waters. She couldn't truly understand what had happened, save for rescuing another sailor from a watery death. When she looked up to the skies, to the parting clouds that gave way to the sun, she felt a sort of warmth flush through her body. It was enough to make her smile, though she didn't know why. She then dove back into the water, to rejoin with her kind, before once more heeding the call to rescue another.

#DPS Story #pirate #mermaid

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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Storied Gaming: FNAF’s Hidden Story

“...if a person just wants to talk, then it's best to not announce that you're tellin' a story. Tellin' a story does come with its own pressures and expectations, I – I suppose. After all, if you're just talkin' to a friend there's no more expectations than if you were talkin' to the wind. . . Words, by themselves, aren't expected to carry or aren't expected to stick, but if you announce you're tellin' a story then there better be a point to it all, you know?”

This comes from one of the numerous Game Over quotes, given to the player while playing Ultimate Custom Night by a character called Mr. Hippo. It's a rather amusing quote, one of an assortment of monologues he speaks regarding conversations he's had with his best friend Orville, another character out to kill the player. What makes this particular quote interesting is that, when you look at the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise as a whole, you certainly see that perhaps it isn't just Mr. Hippo making a point about telling a story. Whether you dove into the game looking for the jumpscares, were part of the lore hunters on the internet, or the casual observer who watched it via Youtube channels, you saw the story unfold before your eyes, even if there was no narrative structure. What do I mean? Well, the expectation is on me now, so let me tell you a story...

At face value, each game of the FNAF franchise was fundamentally simple. You played through five segments of the main game with increasing difficulty, played a bonus segment which presented a new challenge, then given another bonus segment where you were able to control the difficulty. It seemed an easy enough premise, with not too much of a narrative to work off from. For a story, the first three games mentioned that your character was merely a guard during graveyard shifts, with animatronics that wanted enter your office and do you harm. Simple enough to follow for a horror title.

The fourth game was where a story was becoming more into the forefront. This game tells a story of a little child who was often bullied by his older brother quite regularly while wearing a Foxy the Fox mask at home and in the pizzeria. The assaults came to a head when the brother and his friends picked him up, took him to a Freddy animatronic's mouth, and laughed at him until the mouth closed upon him, gravely hurting him. In Sister Location, we see that the story is the emphasis of the game, as the player needs to traverse five different puzzles in order to progress, with the character's mission in the game being more about the investigation than security. It's also the game where we are introduced to Michael Afton. In Pizza Simulator, the story is not as prominent than it was in the previous game, only showing up during small segments of gameplay and at the end where we see all the trapped souls and William Afton burnt down with the store. Finally, in Ultimate Custom Night, we are presented with multitudes of unique dialogue from the different characters that try to kill us, all of them letting us know that the person we play as is being tormented for the sins he has committed.

So where is the overarching story in these games? Again, if you look at the games at face value, you see that they are either designed to challenge a player to survive for 9 minutes per night, that there were puzzles you had to solve to progress, or you had to create the best darn Pizzeria of all time. If you were to take what Mr. Hippo was talking about, these would be the moments of someone talking into the wind. Nothing of consequence offered. Nothing gained. Nothing lost. The only thing offered was the gameplay experience of each title. It wouldn't be until you began to take a look at the layers inside the games that the player begins to see a story under the surface. Once you pick apart the small Easter Eggs, those small diversions in the game that lead to something completely different, is when you realize just how much of a story there is underneath.

But why hide a story through Easter Eggs and diversions? Humans like a good story, but we like to order when it comes to the narrative flow. We need the structure of a beginning, a middle and an end to satisfy that craving. But what if the story isn't good, or perhaps there are certain elements that aren't pleasing that thus make the viewer turn away? Just as we like a good story, we love a good mystery. The best method, in this case, is to hide snippets of a story throughout the series for the audience to decipher. It wasn't just discovering the story, it was the challenge piecing it all together that made the story interesting. To add a little intrigue, a mystery, a bigger riddle that needed to be solved, this is what needed to hook them. It kept them wanting to play the games, delve into the gameplay initially, then to comb over it all again to look for those little things in the environment to offer another piece of the puzzle. It would have been easier to make the story stand out, to tell the player that these things are happening in the world because of the possessing of children, but it is so much more compelling to find these secrets and Easter Eggs.

And compelling it was. With multiple Youtube channels discussing, theorizing, and explaining topics like the timeline of events in the story, how certain characters of this story came to be, how they fit into the grand scheme of things, and even how exactly the animatronics came to life. Everything was given to the players, and the community, if they chose to look hard enough for it. And even with all this information available, segments and events that occur in the game are still hotly debated within the community. To me, that makes a story far more interesting than going into it with a simple a “once upon a time...”

So what did you think of FNAF? Was it an overdone franchise, or did you find just as much enjoyment as a lot of others? Let me know with reblogs or comments! And if you liked it, please don't hesitate in clicking that little heart as well. Thank you for reading, and until next time!

#Storied Gaming #FNAF #five nights at freddy's #story

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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The Turtle’s Shell (DPS Story)

The Savanna was particularly quiet that afternoon. It was hot and humid, as the clouds were promising a thunderstorm at some point in the day, but that promise seemed to be lasting hours, rather than the mere minutes they indicated. It was a day not a soul wished to even move. Even the Lions called off their hunt for another day, going to the same watering hole as the Gazelles for a well-needed bit of refreshment before heading into their dens to sleep off the heat.

The other animals did not fare as well either. The mugginess of the air waned down heavily on even the tiniest of creatures. The elephants, feeling the effects of the heat the most, were trying their best to cool down their young ones. Even they looked to the skies, hoping for that break in the clouds to let the rainfall. Not one soul wanted to be active.

However, there was one particular soul who seemed eager to move. This individual, an old Turtle, was scanning the area he called home for something particular. Tried as he might, and despite his slow pace, the Turtle spent the better part of the day for the search of his lost relic. He was so determined to look for it without help, but as the afternoon was slowly turning to night, and the threat of a heavy storm loomed, he needed to find it right away. Tired in his pursuit, and finally swallowing his pride, he began to look for help.

His search for other animals was becoming just as hard a search at first. The Savanna, being as large as it was, meant that finding another soul at this particular time was difficult. However as his luck was kind, he managed to find a young Startling, a delicate looking bird who, atop a tree stump, was examining herself in a reflection of a small pond of water. The Turtle was oblivious of what she was doing, he was simply overjoyed to locate someone. As he approached, he went into the same water she gazed into, causing small ripples to move so calmly along the water's surface. The Startling was furious.

“Hey!” she exclaimed loudly. “Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something important here.”

“Oh... I am sorry, my dear,” the Turtle said. “I thought I could ask for your help.”

“Well it's going to take a while for it to settle,” she said with a sigh. “What do you want?”

“Ah well, it is rather embarrassing. Have you seen my shell?”

At first the Startling looked confused. Whether it was some kind of joke or something that the elderly animal did to get a rise out of the younger generation, she wasn't about to contemplate it. “Look, I really don't have time for this, why don't you ask someone else.”

“Oh... alright.”

The Turtle had a suspicion that she hadn't seen his shell, but he could have only hoped. He began to wonder if anyone would have seen it. Given how far away everyone was from his home, it would have been a rare chance anyone had. But he didn't want to stop. He had already taken this resolve in asking for help, he couldn't simply choose to end his search now when there might still be that small chance. Then he had the idea of going to the watering hole. At this time of day, there would be a whole slew of others to help him in his plight.

The trek took longer than he anticipated. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but as he predicted the watering hole was busy with folks of all walks of life. Surely, he thought to himself, one of them would have either seen his shell or help him locate it. As he arrived, the first to greet him was a Warthog.

“Mind ya business whilst ya here,” he said, snorting afterward. “ 'Cause of the hot weather, the waterin' hole's on a first come, first serve treatment by order of the Lions.”

“Oh, I am not interested in the water right now,” the Turtle said. “Rather, I was hoping if you could help me find my shell.”

The big Warthog started to laugh. “Haha, you're jokin' ain't ya, old timer? Tell ya what, maybe ask one of the Giraffes. They got long necks, maybe they got a better look at the Savanna, and they've seen it.”

The Turtle beamed. “Oh, I had not thought of them. Thank you, sir.”

While the Warthog laughed at the ridiculousness of it, the Turtle slowly marched forward to the next animal. Giraffes were rather tall creatures, hard to have a conversation with as their heads usually were up in the clouds. This one, fortunately enough, was closer to the ground, using its long tongue to lap up the water into her mouth. The Turtle approached as quick as he could, although it was still rather slow.

“Excuse me, Miss Giraffe.”

The Giraffe stopped her consumption a moment and turned her neck. The Turtle was hard to see at first, her lengthy neck casting shade over his general area, and his colour the same as the grass below her. “Oh my, well hello dear,” she said in an ever pleasant tone. “What can little ol' me do for you?”

The Turtle smiled just as cheerfully as her demeanour. “You are much taller than me, and you might be able to see things better than I. I was wondering... have you seen my shell?”

The Giraffe appeared to be taken aback. She looked over the Turtle once more, wondering if she had overlooked the older animal as she often did with others. She bit her lip, looking as though she wanted to say something but chose to withhold it. Instead, she opted to say “well I'm not certain if I can help, but you're in luck! The King's here, and he'll help you no problem.”

“Ah the King, of course! Thank you, miss!”

She bowed her head in respect to her elder as the Turtle made his way around the large watering hole, passed the wildebeests, tigers, all the walks of life within the Savanna. The mighty King, the centre head of a large Lion Pride, was seen laying comfortably by the water's edge, while the patriarch lapped up the water majestically. They appeared dominant over the watering hole but also showed signs of the hot air bothering them as well. The Queen turned her head a moment to regard the Turtle, while it was the King who spoke to him.

“Greetings, elder,” the King said. “I trust the air has not bothered you, as well?”

“No sire, it has not,” the Turtle said meekly, bowing his head in respect to his ruler. “I actually have something else bothering me.”

“Oh?” The King sat up in interest, his gaze upon the Turtle would have looked intimidating to anyone else watching. “What is the matter?”

“It is my shell, sire. No matter where I have looked, for the life of me I can not seem to find it.”

The King looked rather confused at first. He looked over the Turtle, and he stared into his eyes. He saw the advanced age within them, and while he might have some wisdom to pass on to the younger generation, the King knew the old one had some unfortunate problems as well. Instead of showing those concerns, the Lion offered a reassuring smile. “Have you tried looking in the first place you thought of?”

“I have, sire, I really have, but with my poor eyesight I have not seen it anywhere.”

“And others have tried to help you?”

“Yes! But no one seems to have seen it either...”

The King snorted as his hind leg rose. “Perhaps we can look for it together. Will that put your mind at ease?”

“Oh yes, yes indeed!”

“Very well, let us see if it is over here by these bushes first.”

The Turtle and the King set forth on the search, while the Queen shook her head and continued to drink. With the Turtle's slow pace, and him becoming tired from his travels, the King decided the best place to take him would be behind some bushes which were only ten feet away. The Turtle followed the King into the bush. He knew the King would help him find his shell even if others couldn't. But as they made it, it wasn't a shell they found, but rather a Hyena.

The Hyena had laid himself down for a sleep, hoping to be undisturbed while hiding in the bush. The heated air was bothering him to no end, and to his surprise, the thick bush offered him a better place to rest. Not completely cooler, but at least better than where he would have normally slept. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't the case, and he stared face to face with both the Turtle and the King. He blinked a few times, both groggy from waking up and confusion to seeing a Turtle so close to him.

“Oh, hello sir,” the Turtle said.

“Ah...? What ya want?” He said sleepily.

“Well, his majesty thought we would be able to find my missing shell in these bushes. Have you seen it?”

The King could see it in the Hyena's face, making a low warning growl to the joker's direction should he step out of line. But the Hyena was in no mood for games. He was tired and wished only to go back to sleep.

“Ya mean like the shell you have on now?”

The Turtle blinked. “Like what?”

“The shell on ya. Ain't that the one?”

The Turtle grew even more confused. He glanced down at himself, tapping his chest as he did. Clack Clack. His chest was harder than he remembered. Another confused look spread onto his face as he looked around, then back to the Hyena.

“Oh, so it has been here all along...” The Turtle said with a half chuckle, still in wrapped in his bewilderment. “Well, thank you for finding my shell, young one.”

“Any time.”

The Turtle's confused look remained on his face, but otherwise, he seemed content that he was able to find his shell. He turned to the King and bowed respectfully before he turned himself around and headed off for home. The King waited, knowing his booming voice might be heard by the Turtle. When he felt the elder was far enough away, his attention went back to the Hyena. With a disgruntled snort, the King lowered his head to stare eye to eye to the Hyena, whose head was already lowered back down onto the hot Savanna dirt.

“That was entirely unnecessary,” the King growled. “Did you really need to do that?”

“Yeah, I did,” yawned the Hyena.

“And what made you believe this was a correct thing to do?”

“Ya saw the vacant look in his eyes, yeah? Old timer's not too there if ya know what I mean. Wasn't a sense to keep stringin' him along like that, he needed to know the truth. He's not dumb, he's just old. He needs us younger pups to help him when he's in trouble, not to pity him. If we play on those moments when he's senile, he's just goin' to make himself feel useless, and he deserves more dignity than that, eh?”

The Lion snorted. He was right, and as much as he didn't like to admit it, he still felt annoyed by what happened. The Hyena went back to sleep as the Lion returned to his Queen's side, watching over the remaining animals have their fill of the water, just as a sound of thunder pierced the silence.

The Turtle was relieved to be home after his long walk. He was very happy to have found whatever it was he was searching for and remembered all the nice people who helped him along the way. As the first drops of rain began to him, the Turtle slowly began to withdraw into his shell and close his eyes. The day was tiring and he needed a rest. He couldn't remember why he was for so long as he did. “Ah, I must be getting old,” he chuckled to himself as he drifted off to sleep to the sound of the rain falling all around him.

#DPS Story #old age #senility #animals #turtle #shell

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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Well that sucked... (Blog)

So I had this plan that I was going to do tomorrow, it was basically just a writing exercise that I was going to post and upload here.... then Focuswriter decided to die on me. No rhyme or reason, just over 2 hours of constant writing gone in an instant. A brief lesson in making sure you at least save every ten minutes, but I suppose that’s how it goes. It did give me one thing out of it though.

I first want to say that I’m sorry there haven’t at least been updates as to what’s been up with DPS. In short, nothing but constantly working hard and coming home wanting to nap this past month. Literally, all I would want to do is go home, crash for an hour, then wake up, eat, then mindlessly play FF14, Stardew Valley, or right now since I just bought a Switch Street Fighter: 3rd Strike. Creativity took a massive nosedive because of it, but that’s when I decided to say “F it! Just write about anything.”

And I did. For two hours, 3000+ words and currently some finger-flexing to keep them from cramping, I work a piece essentially saying how it was just an exercise piece, and then I would ramble on about something random.... kinda like what I’m doing right now but it actually had some structure. So hopefully now that things have quieted down on the working end, I can plan myself more to do something else other than sleep, eat and play video games. And I’m going to hold myself to that. So! Expect a DPS story by Sunday, July 15th. I’m not sure what it will be, but if I plan for it, maybe it’ll kick my butt into doing it. I’ll see ya then!

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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Storied Gaming: Mass Effect’s Indoctrination Theory

Have you ever had a moment where someone mentioned that you are not particularly yourself at that moment? Have you looked into the mirror, studied yourself, and thought you either didn't recognize the person you were staring at, or that there was simply something different altogether about that face of yours? From time to time, be it a medical condition or through simple fatigue, we sometimes cannot tell if we're in the right frame of mind. For most situations, it's normal and easy to dismiss. For other situations, it may either be a lead up to a serious problem, whether that problem is health related or changes the fate of the universe. The last of three theories we'll look at on this topic will look into such a malady. Today, we look at the controversial, yet just as famous, video game theory that may hold an element of truth behind it. Today, we look into Commander Shepherd's Indoctrination.

A quick note before we begin: While I haven't played the game to completion, I do know its story, and as well as the character who is Shepherd. For the sake of inclusiveness, the Commander will either be referred to by rank, or by the "they" pronouns. Both genders of Shepherd can and have shown a level of badassness that is believable given their status in the galaxy, as well as the context of the story, and thus respect will be shown. Sound good? Let's begin!

The Theory's Rundown

The source I will use is through a Wiki which highlights the aspects of the theory, with the link provided (enter link here). The theory states that, throughout the course of the Mass Effect Trilogy, Shepherd, through exposure of Reaper technology, gradually became indoctrinated by the robotic beings by the end of the story, right at the events of the infamous Colour Endings (where the choices of how the story ended were coloured different). It's argued that the process took a long time, as Shepherd's mind was stronger than most others, and it took them longer to succumb to the powers of the Reapers.

The evidence behind the theory is somewhat large and seemed to be confirmed within the boundaries of the lore. When it comes to the lore of indoctrination and the Reapers, it's said that the power of the Reapers themselves, as well as prolonged exposure to technology and relics associated with the Reapers, help constitute the effects of indoctrination. It isn't the metals of the Reaper technology that affects organic minds, but rather the noises they produce, which appear to deliver a subconscious suggestion to the affected party, and subsequently affects them.

When it comes to Shepherd, there are three such times in which indoctrination could have occurred. The first could have happened when they were confronting both Saren and Sovereign at Eden Prime, to which the farmers of the area reported to the Commander of an unusual noise. The second and third times could be related to Shepherd's interactions with the Reaper named Harbinger, once during an interaction with the being, and the other time during the attack on London, where they and Anderson are able to make it inside the Citadel.

So what is the evidence that tells us they are indeed indoctrinated? The main components of the indoctrination seem to hit their peak in the events of Mass Effect 3. In it, Shepherd has a host of strange things happen to them that does not seem to be explained right off the bat, or at all by other characters in the game. Firstly, we have the child during the attack on Earth in Vancouver, a child that no one else seems to see, and disappears in an air duct when Anderson distracts them. Another hint, explained by the Rachni Queen in previous games, are the dreams they have, which include shadowy figures, or as the Queen refers to them oily shadows. There is then the almost disjointed and rather obscure imagery we see towards the end when the Commander talks with the Illusive Man and Anderson. And finally, we have the conversation with the Starchild, the being of light which looks like the child from the beginning. Throughout that conversation, Shepherd never mentions once the peculiar choice of appearance, not the explanation of anything that is happening around them.

How did I like It?

I believe it's fantastic. We see one of the most influential Commanders in the universe, the first human Specter, the first being to take on and defeat a Reaper... This is a being the Reapers would have wanted control of to fulfill their plans. The contributors to the theory went all out on explaining the details of the theory, using the codex entry within the game's lore and cross-referencing dialogue and events to further prove that these things are actually happening to Shepherd.

Personally, I believe it also can explain the ending to Mass Effect 3 based on the two other major characters we know to have become indoctrinated. Saren, or rather Sovereign, wished to create a new existence for life itself, a Synthesis of sorts, between all organic and inorganic life. "The strengths of both and the weaknesses of neither," being the words said through Saren. As I hinted, this was one of the coloured endings, that being Green. The Illusive Man expressed interest in controlling the Reapers, and through them police the entire galaxy, and had Shepherd chosen this Blue ending, that's what would have happened. Or, perhaps they came to their senses, saw the Red in their eyes, and instead went for the destruction of the Reapers, thus saving the galaxy that way.

And the ending too, it seems to differ based on who, well which colour, you choose. You look at the both the Green and Blue endings, we see how things those differences happen, the leaves looking like circuit boards, or how the Reapers themselves would the act as the guardians of the galaxy. Or watching them become destroyed, and the breaths of the Commander being taken somewhere, safe.

The Problems With It

Frankly, there isn't anything intrinsically wrong with the theory. We see little sprinkles of a potential truthiness toward it, it becomes hard to deny it as just a theory. Even looking at other discussion videos on the topic, I began to notice too the telltale signs of an indoctrinated person within Shepherd, even going as far as seeing their eyes be the same as the Illusive Man's before they are disintegrated during the final cutscene.

With the inclusion of the extended ending DLC, we now see how each choice finally matters, and the ultimate fate of Shepherd. Be they Renegade for life or Paragon til death, while the choices mattered, they still seemed to fall flat for a lot of players who were looking for that great ultimate ending, that ultimate climax that would leave them satisfied.

And so that's it. Were you left just as unsatisfied as originals endings had left you? Or was there something else I missed? Let me know down below. I know I hadn't covered everything that there is when it came to this theory, but I felt for the sake of keeping the post as short as I have for other works, it was best to hit the major points, but definitely take a look at the theory, and if you have a suggestion for another one I should look at, I will certainly cover it. Until next time, folks!

#Storied Gaming #theory #Mass Effect #ME #indoctrination #commander shepard

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digitalpenstroke · 6 years ago

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Storied Gaming: Yu’s Shadow Theory

Spoilers incoming for Persona 4 and Persona 4: Golden. Give the games a look see before we go into this theory, it’s actually a damn good game.

We all have something hidden within us that we never wish anyone to ever find. The secret might be dark, an embarrassment of sorts, a feeling about yourself that you never want to disclose. Sometimes, it’s just better to confront that person within you, to cast away the doubt of your Shadow, and embrace the person you really are, your Persona. When it comes to the characters in Atlus’s most popular side series, Shin Megami Tensei Persona 4, confronting their Shadow to reach their Persona is not only a necessity but also a means of survival in their world. But not everyone had to, but maybe they didn’t need to. Today we tackle the theory that, while it proves interesting, still holds some flaws on the surface. Today we ask: Is Teddie, Yu Narukami’s Shadow?

The Theory’s Rundown

The speculative theory goes as thus: Over the course of Persona 4, all characters who travel into the TV world, with the exception of Nanako, enter a realm of the TV world and is confronted by a Shadow, who represents the darkest or contrarian thoughts and feelings of the person. Should the person accept their Shadow as a part of themselves, the Shadow calms its aggression and converts itself into a Persona, a weapon, and companion of the user within the realm. Should a person reject their Shadow, it intensifies in strength, becoming its own being and lashing out against the individual. There are three characters that do not have this sort of interaction within the Shadow Realm: Yu (or the main character), Nametame, and Adachi. With Adachi and Nametame, we see their Shadows manifest when we confront them.

Which leaves Yu, and wouldn’t you know, the first Shadow being we confront is Teddy. As the theory suggests, Teddie has a unique relationship when it comes to Yu. He’s introduced as a Shadow without remembering anything about his life before their encounter. During the True End path, if the player neglects to do the social links, Teddie is the only one that will appear before Yu to give a moment of reflection. During the events of post-Nanako’s death, Yu happens to discover him within the Velvet Room, a place that seemed to be designated only for Yu, his benefactor Igor, and his assistant Margret.

When it comes to the Arcana, Teddie’s Star acts as a stepping stone for Yu going from The Fool to The World. Throughout the game, much like the other Persona games, the main character begins as The Fool, a wild card, a blank slate that which can project the right ideas into others and inspire through action. The Fool’s traits stem from our innocence, divine inspiration, madness, freedom, spontaneity, inexperience, chaos, and creativity, all things Yu has in spades. To adopt The World, a symbol of the protagonist’s triumph, Yu would need to also the qualities of the Star to achieve his goal. The Star’s traits are hope, self-confidence, faith, altruism, luck, generosity, peace, and joy; qualities that we see from Teddie time and time again. To accept the Star, to accept Teddie, Yu takes the final step to achieve his true Arcana, and his true Persona: Izanagi-no-Okami.

How Did I Like It?

It’s a unique take on the relationship between Yu and Teddie. Looking at the game at face value, it does sort of explaining a couple of the key aspects of the story that seemingly doesn’t get touch upon via dialogue or action. In the context of this game, we do only see Teddie enter the Velvet Room, and it is a little strange for Yu to not have to deal with a Shadow of his own. For Teddie to be a Shadow without substance, it could explain how he came into existence but forget his purpose. He would have been what Yu would have to confront in the TV world to acquire Izanagi. Would Yu have gotten The World if this came to pass? It would have been the thing Yu would gain if Teddie was still the Shadow.

And as a quick addition to the theory, it would explain Teddie’s existence. Normally a Shadow is manifested based on the thoughts and feelings of the person who encounters them. If Yu already had the powers to summon his initial Persona at will, then ties to his Shadow would be severed. Much like how others Shadows would act on their own if they were rejected, Teddie became an entity of his own, one which struggles with its own mind and self-doubt. One that would create its own Shadow to face, and Persona to attain. On face value, it’s an interesting prospect. But...

The Problems With It

Let’s look at the problems through the story, and start from the beginning. The reason Yu is given his Persona early is that it was a gift from the Gods. Did I just rehash a statement? Actually no. In a statement that would be read as “oh, so he’s the chosen one then” type of mindset, it’s actually a one hundred percent correct assessment. Yu’s powers were indeed given to him by the Gods, Izanami to be exact, the mother of all creation to be more detailed. Yu encounters her as he enters Inaba while he, Dogima and Nanako stop as a gas stop. She makes some mundane conversation with Yu dressed as a gas jockey, and proceeds to shake his hand, and thus transferring power into him (you can actually feel it happen too if your controller had dual shock). And this is also revealed to be the reason of how Adachi and Nametame also are able to enter the TV world, as she had visited them as well.

So did Yu ever have to encounter a Shadow? The only time he ever had to encounter something Shadow-esque was only in the anime version of Persona 4, wherein during his fight with Margaret and Izanami, he is confronted with a Shadow that expressed his fears of leaving everyone he cared for. He was afraid of being alone again, yet unlike everyone else who could not embrace what they couldn’t accept, Yu’s journey saw him through the Shadow and helped him accept that he was indeed not alone.

Then where did Teddie come from if he wasn’t Yu’s Shadow? Teddie is still a Shadow, just not of any one person in particular. The bear himself tells us that there was a world of Shadows, a world created by human thoughts. He would then say:

“One day, a Shadow living in that world awakened to human emotions. But humans and Shadows are completely different entities. So he made himself forget that he was a Shadow... He wanted to forget... he wanted people to like him. And that’s how he came to look like this...” And towards the end, once Izanami is defeated, the Investigation Team is able to see the Shadow World as it truly is. And what it is, is a gorgeous landscape, something that looks like a meadow.

But how can Teddie summon a Persona if he is, in fact, a Shadow? If we can glean something from Teddie’s story, it’s that he was able to manifest emotions and feelings. If that was the case, he would then be able to create an ego, a piece of identity that facilitates the creation of the Shadow and the Persona. It wouldn’t be too impossible for a being, which has gained an Ego and sentience naturally, to also be able to have such a gift within him as well.

And I believe that is where I will leave the topic for today. As I have said, I enjoyed the aspect of the theory, and it creates a more endearing relationship between Teddie and Yu than what we already see. It’s a fun thing to think about, despite the flaws and the facts that are presented to us in the context of the game. So until next time, where we will look into one last theory.

#Storied Gaming #theory #Persona 4 #Yu #Teddie #Shadow

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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Storied Gaming: The Theory - Squall is Dead

Today I would like to introduce to you the first of the three theories I would like to cover. Just to give an understanding of what I will do for a format, I will be giving a small introduction of the theory, give a rundown of the theory, say what I liked about it, and what I didn’t. So, without further adieu, on with the show!

Final Fantasy 8 was a very divisive game back in the late 2000’s. You had the crowd that adored the chemistry of Squall and Rinoa, that were excited to see the Leon segments, and loved playing Tetra Master (later to be known as Triple Triad for Final Fantasy 14). Then you had the detractors that despised the Guardian Force (GF) system, the Draw system, Selphie, and how the game ended. Wait, how did the game end again? Oh right, it ended with the characters being sent into a dimension which was the result of a Sorceress who managed to create a temporal compression. Wait, what? How does that make sense? Perhaps it doesn’t. Perhaps, as the theory we are about to look into, all of this didn’t actually happen, and that we are experiencing a death dream from Squall himself.

The Theory’s Rundown

The theory is called Squall is Dead. It states that at the end of Disk 1, after the confrontation of both Seifer and Sorceress Edea, of whom the latter was to be assassinated by the members of SeeD, Squall dies as a result of Edea throwing Ice related magic into his chest and the subsequent fall from the parade float she was riding. From there, the rest of the narrative is Squall’s final moments, trying to piece together some unresolved questions and issues in his mind, so that he may pass away peacefully in his resolve.

Some of the examples used for this theory stem from the groundwork of the world as we knew it that wasn’t shown to us until Disk 2. We are then introduced to the concepts of the Moombas, their life cycle being the final stage for the Shumi, the Shumi people themselves, NORG’s ownership of the Balamb Garden, and the fact that Gardens can fly. Then the identity of Sorceress Edea, the powers and understanding of the title of Sorceress, the origin of Ultimecia, and Rinoa’s connection to the powers. As well as Pandora, the Lunar Cry, that the monsters of the world came from the moon. And finally the relationship of the characters themselves, of how they were all from the same orphanage and found themselves brought back together because of the events of Final Fantasy 8.

Ultimately the theory and the narrative come to a head when it comes to the final cutscene of the game. What we see as Squall reflects on his first encounter with Rinoa, is his mind trying desperately to recall those precious moments. They start to degrade, as we see in the cutscene, where the scenery of that moment, and Rinoa herself, become blurry, disfigured, incomprehensible. That is the moment that Squall’s life had come to an end, that his mind finally fades. We see other images and scenes flash by, some more obscured and distorted like the rest until we are faced with a ... well faceless Squall for a frame, followed by him looking upward on his knees until it fades to white. At this point, we are led to understand that his mental state had finally ceased, and he had properly died.

How Did I Like It?

I will give the creators of this site a lot of credit. I could not have gone into so much detail into everything from Disk 2 to the end of the game, and attempt to make a credible case. The inclusion of the Shumi and Moombas did seem a little out of place to me at first, and to be honest the idea of Time Compression being the reason behind Ultimecia’s goals seemed far too ludicrous to be believed for a Final Fantasy game. It really does explain the end cinematic too when you look at it from just a glance.

The Problems With It.

So when I said that Time Compression was too ludicrous an idea for Final Fantasy? Well, the thing about that is that they have messed with the idea of time alteration before, and in a Final Fantasy game as well. In the very first Final Fantasy, the villain Garland - who later turns into the archdemon Chaos - devises a plan to create a sort of temporal paradox, where he would send Four Fiends of the Elements into the future so that they can send him back into the past, thus supposedly creating a cycle where he simply cannot die. So we can't fully dismiss the idea of Chronomancy used in such an extreme.

As it comes to the Moombas, the Shumi, the origins of the monsters and everything else the theory tries to go against, it can be all summed up by the contrivance of this statement: It’s a Final Fantasy game. The reason Squall’s ice spike wound healed was because of the curing magic they would have employed before getting into the prison. The Shumi and Moombas are really no different than other things that come out of nowhere, like the Namingways in FF4, or just Moogles in general, though, I concede that a giant Shumi living in the lower levels of the Balamb Garden did seem to come out of nowhere.

What about them having been in an orphanage together and not remembering each other? It’s already been established that prolonged exposure to a GF makes you forget certain segments of memory due to their need to inhabit the host’s mind in order to function. Selphie herself explains how she had junctioned a GF to herself when she was younger, but she cannot remember the details of that GF or what happened to it either. Given Balamb's reliance on the GFs over other gardens, it would be safe to assume that Quistis, Squall, Zell and Seifer's memories were affected greatly because of it.

Does it also explain the final cutscenes? That is its own can of worms, and I’ll offer a link here to give the full story of what happened. Essentially the SeeDs tempted Ultimecia’s plan to compress time itself so that she can possess a Sorceress in the past, as she resides in the future. What we see in the cutscenes with Squall is him falling into the wrong Time Loop - a possibility that is referenced by Quistis prior to his scenes - and later becoming lost, only trying hard to focus on Rinoa and where to find her, and ultimately failing this.

To me, the main issue of the story being a death dream is a hard one to swallow. While it does present itself as an interesting take on a narrative, and very experimental of an idea for a Final Fantasy title, one of which was completely littered with experimental designs, at the same time it’s an ending that wouldn’t be fulfilling to the player. What would have been the point of looking into the death dream of a failed hero? Another game comes to mind that would have done the idea properly. Eternal Sonata, for example, uses the death dreams of Chopin in such a way that it interweaves his musical talents, as well as the societal structure of Chopin’s era, on display in the game and through the narrative. In a strange way, it could open up young gamers into a classical world they would have otherwise have overlooked. What benefit would there have been in the case of Squall dying?

I enjoyed working on this theory and talking about it. It’s definitely worth a discussion and focuses on something I want to talk about more when it comes to Storied Gaming, that being the story of the game. I do have two more theories planned to talk about, but I wonder if there aren’t any others you would like for me to cover. Let me know in the comments below, and if you enjoyed this or any of my other work, please don’t hesitate to reblog down below. Until next time!

#Storied Gaming #Final Fantasy 8 #FF8 #Squall is dead #theory

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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He Cried When... (DPS Story)

He smiled when the alarm rang. The dream, which ended abruptly by the screaming metallic chirps of the small device, was a very pleasant one. He didn't appreciate the notion of leaving it so soon, but having experienced it filled him with a positive euphoria.

He smiled when he left his apartment and set out for work. The weather was surprisingly accommodating, not a sign of frost or snow in the forecast. In fact, if the rumour had it, it was supposed to reach plus temperatures that day. He couldn't believe it. Start of April, close to Easter, and they were going to get the first bit of actual warm weather since September. He definitely woke up on the right side of the bed.

He smiled when he caught the bus, saying good morning to the driver, even if the greeting wasn't reciprocated as he had hoped. He didn't know whether the driver was having a bad morning, or still just waking up - it was still fairly early in the morning as it was about 7 am.

He smiled when he arrived to work, the small restaurant about twenty minutes or so from his home. He was greeted by his manager and his three other co-workers. He was curious what happened to the fifth member of their team, and his answer was met with an elaborate story of the person calling in sick - something about a stomach virus they caught the night previous when out having a drink and fancy Italian pasta with her boyfriend - and that they weren't able to cover her. He offered a shrug, reassuring everyone that today was probably going to be a little busy but that they would be able to handle it. Even without her, they were still an All-Star staff.

He smiled when the rush finally came during the lunch hour. Being the upfront cashier, he took on each order with his usual charm and demeanour. When they became too busy, he still kept up with their pace. Even during such a busy period, the customers would linger and chat with him for a moment. He knew he had to keep the line going, but he still did his best to leave them with a smile of their own. He loved the interactions when they came, and what customers he felt were rude were given just as well a treatment. When lunch ended, and the customer base slowed, everyone was given praises for the work, particularly him.

He smiled greatly when it was time for his break. He made his own version of a poutine with the ingredients in the back. He heated it briefly in the booster oven to get the cheese curds to melt over the gravy and buffalo mixture. It was heaven.

He lost his smile as he read the message on his phone. It was short, to the point, yet something he wasn't expecting. No one did. For someone her age and petite size to get a heart attack. She was stable, but they were watching. She was his sister, and his family lived a city's distance away from him. There was no chance to pick up and leave, especially not short staffed, and not with a three-hour drive he'd have no chance of making.

He smiled softly when his manager asked if he was okay. He reassured her everything was fine, that it was something he would handle later. He mentioned potentially needing some time off. She didn't seem to mind. He greatly appreciated it.

He faked a smile when the irate customer came in. His tone and demeanour were unbearable, but nothing too terrible to be removed from the premises for. He spoke rudely, insisting that he wasn't paying any attention to the order at all. Was this his first day? Did he even know what he was doing? Could he read back the order, he probably messed it up. But he kept his cool and did just that, kindly asking for the money.

He held a calm expression when the rush happened again, helping the other workers prepare the treats. He rushed to a fro, trying not to bump into his co-workers, all the while keeping his mind in check on the task at hand. It was so very easy to leave, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t something he could do.

He faked one more smile, sincerely thanking everyone as they congratulated each other on a shift well done. Some of the other staff began to warn the night crew of how potentially busy it would become. He, on the other hand, slipped out of the restaurant without anyone knowing. He had to catch his bus. He had to get home. He had a phone call to make.

He cried when he received the news.

#DPS Story #work life #worst case scenario #this can happen

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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Storied Gaming: Theories

When the story is over, we are left with the intended conclusion the developer has created for us. From start to finish, we follow the characters and the story, piecing together the nuances and complexities of the narrative. But what if there was something more to that certain scene six hours into the game? Was that intentional, or perhaps it’s something more? It starts as a lingering doubt, or an expansion on the idea, or an explanation of the world and its inhabitants that can be seen in a different light. It’s the covenanted concept known as theories. Theories on their own are harmless, but to the right or wrong crowd they can incite a conversation, or cause infighting within a community. From my experience, while there are many different theories out there, there are only a few theory types that seem predominant.

Some game theories can take the role of the analytical. While these types of theories do not pertain to the overall story itself, it does offer a second thought of the small mechanics, objects or weapons in the world. These theories only serve to apply real-world physics and ideologies into the subject. Ultimately, the goal is to examine and explain how the subject could or could not effectively exist within our world as we know it. These sorts of theories range drastically, from how deadly a Bomb-omb is, to the inner workings of Tracer’s device, to going as scholastic as examining the economics of an MMORPG.

We then have those theories that take a look at certain characters and attempt to assess them further. For some, the face value of a character is not enough. For them, these actors need to have an intended purpose or a backstory that requires further explanation. It’s that nagging sensation of “well if they weren’t so important, why would they add them in?” This is where the wheels start to turn, and theories begin to form. Unimportant names, like W. D Gaster of Undertale or “The Phone Guy” from Five Nights at Freddy’s take centre stage, and while there is credibility for them to be there, often times they are seen as interesting discussion pieces and charming diversions.

We also have those works in which feel the story is incomplete in some way. These sorts of theories look at the narrative as a whole and dissect certain elements or segments of the story to explain what has happened or to further on a plot that otherwise was resolved with new information credible or otherwise. In some cases, these theories can range from explaining potential plot holes in the narrative, to understanding the consequences of certain actions or character placement within the story. Think of the theory that Red killed Gary’s Radicate, and why he no longer uses him in battle after meeting him in Lavender Town. Think of the theory that stated Majora’s Mask is Link’s purgatory as he deals with his own death. Think of the theory that Chell from Portal is actually the daughter of Aperture's CEO and his secretary. While by no means are these theories 100% accurate, they do offer interesting thoughts as to the reasoning behind certain events in games.

Finally, we have fan theories that, while they don’t offer academic forethought, delve deeper into game lore, or apply insight into certain characters, do provide some entertainment value. Either seen as fictional work (ala creepypasta or some such) or perhaps a fan who enjoys their chosen game a little too much, these sets of theories do not hold any weight into their examinations, rather they offer an amusing read or listen to an audience that would take in such a media. These general theories can range from the world the player inhabits is an apocalyptic one, much like the theory of Minecraft being set on a dying star.

From my perspective, I believe fan theories of video games are fascinating. While they don’t offer a clear explanation to what happens in the game, they do offer an interesting read as to what could have happened to our heroes in their journey. Or, that they provided that extra bit of closure for a character that needed to be addressed. Humans are creatures that require finality when it comes to narratives or puzzles. Anything intentionally left out, we inherently feel forced to fill in those gaps, even when it's unnecessary.

So what’s your favourite theory? Leave me a comment down, and if you liked today’s article, please feel free to give it a like or a reblog. In the next few Storied Gaming posts, I will offer some theories I loved to read and give my take on them. So please look forward to that. Until next time!

#Storied Gaming #theories #video game theories

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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Storied Gaming: Chrono Trigger and Time Travel

(Note: Apparently the preview is experiencing what others have been experiencing off and on with the site. Please go through Keep Reading to see the post without the weird symbols)

The following contains minor to major spoilers for Chrono Trigger. I recommend playing it first prior to reading today’s article. It is available for the Super Nintendo, PlayStation 1, Nintendo DS, and PC via Steam.

When it comes to the more interesting ideas of the creative writing medium, whether it's on TV, movies, books or of course video games, it has to be the time-traveling motif. This narrative produces a myriad of possibilities; from making commentary on current events to creating “What if” scenarios with historical characters and figures, or the cause and effect of altering events in history itself. When it comes to time travel, we gamers think of the quintessential game that should be added to anyone's library, Chrono Trigger. What makes this game so interesting? Take a moment of your time to read this and see.

At the beginning of the game, we control our near titular character, Crono, as he begins his day before heading on to the Millenial Fair, where the people of Guardia are celebrating the turn of the new millennium. While going to the different venues, Crono (literally) stumbles upon Marle, knocking a pendant from her possession. After retrieving it and (hopefully) returning it to her immediately, the pair continue to enjoy the sights and sounds of the Fair, until an announcement of a great experiment is heard. Lucca, Crono's ingenious friend, demonstrates the power of her new invention: The teleport machine. Crono uses it first, and to the amazement of all, it works! Crono is sent from one pad to another. Marle, overcome with the excitement, wishes to go next, and this is where our story truly begins.

A temporal (time-related) accident occurs involving Marle and her pendant, sending her 400 years into the past. After some time, Lucca manages to recreate the accident, sending Crono to the past to search for her. Chrono explores his homeland of the Medieval Era until he goes to Guardia Castle, where he finds Marle, whom the people believe to be a queen. Moments later, as they spend some time alone speaking, she seemingly disappears in front of his eyes. Lucca manages to travel to the past as well, explaining that Marle is not only of royal blood but that during this time in history the real Queen of Guardia has been kidnapped, only to be rescued sometime later. Marle looks like her ancestor, and thus the search was called off. To this end, she explains,“As I recall someone was supposed to save her. But history has been changed!.. if the real Queen is killed... Marle will simply disappear.” Without the real Queen to mother her ancestors, she would simply disappear from existence entirely. Marle is then saved by her two friends by rescuing the real Queen, with the help of their ally, Glenn the Frog, who originally rescued the Queen. After, the three return to the spot where the time portal sent them, though instead of going back to the present, they instead go into the future, where they discover an unfortunate fate.

The beginning of the game presents a more common trope when it comes to the time traveling narrative: The Grandfather/Grandmother Paradox, and the concept of Time Erasure. The Grandparent Paradox is when the time traveler goes back in time to when either a point before their grandparent or parent is born, becoming involved with the relative of that era, and from there perpetuates the ancestral line as intended. However, when Crono meets with Marle, she disappears, as if removed from all reality. This is explained by Time Erasure theory, where a disruption in the course of history alters the present, and the result of the disruption causes the subject to disappear completely as if they never existed. Since Marle hadn't continued the family line with her great great grandfather (gross), and the real Queen never returned, Marle nor her mother would ever have been born, and thus that line of ancestral succession would have been lost, causing Marle to be removed from time itself.

Now, not all past altering experiences are as horrendous as Time Erasure. Near the end of the game, we are presented with quite a few side quests that require us to go back and forth through time. One such side quest involves the restoration of a forest. In 600AD, where Marle was nearly erased, there is a rather desolate wasteland seen on the world map which is caused by a tunneling monster. After defeating it, the robotic companion Robo offers his services to a botanist to help plant trees. Though we see him in the world map plugging away at the fields, it isn't until we return to 1000AD where we see the fruits of the labour at its fullest, with a sprawling forest covering the landscape, and a small shrine dedicated to both the botanist and a powered down Robo, who is later restored with the help of Lucca.

Even some game mechanics are affected by time. Some dungeons make a return from one era to another, both housing the same treasure chests. In these occasions, the treasure in the future can receive updated loot inside it, while you can go back in time to loot the original treasure for its item. Conversely, if you choose to loot the treasure in the past, it will remain open and empty in the future. There are also some dungeons and locations that, while they are visible in the past, cannot be accessed or fully explored until you go into the future. Only one location of interest, the Sun Temple, exists throughout all history of the world and is attributed to the Sun Stone side quest, which unlocks Lucca's ultimate weapon (Wonder Shot), and some awesome sunglasses (or, Sun Shades).

So while we have discussed some examples of how it conveys a time-traveling narrative, the main question to ask is: Is it scientifically sound? The short answer is no, but that isn't to say that the team who worked on this didn't try their best with what they knew. They did apply the Time Travellers Immunity theory, where those who travel through time retain the memories of the eras they visit, as well as the changes in history that otherwise would have been rewritten, but that isn't to say everything we know or theorize about time travel is applied in this game. It was released in 1995, and what we thought even then wasn't as extensive as it is now. Even my own knowledge of time travel is limited to narratives like Back to the Future, so to fault them with today's knowledge seems fruitless.

Does the lack of temporal knowledge diminish the quality of Chrono Trigger's story? Not in the least. The storyline and gameplay are still a marvel as they were back then. The characters are engaging and differ wonderfully. The progression of the plot is not at all jarring nor inconsistent. The soundtrack still holds up. Today, theories and speculations, musical remixes, fan art and fan fiction stand as a testament to just how much dedication and love there is for Crono and the gang, even after 20 years. For what it offered, in an era where JRPGs were still trying to hit the mark on Western audiences, I can honestly say it was a title I would always return to.

So what did you think of Chrono Trigger and time travel? Did it make you think about your nostalgic past? Let me know with a reblog, a like, or even a comment down below. I'll see you in the future with another article. Until next time.

#Storied Gaming #Chrono Trigger #time travel #opinion

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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K_Lell here. You have an extraordinary talent in conveying ideas through the written word. Let me know when you publicly publish. I will purchase a copy.

Ah geez, thank you K_Lell! It really means a lot to hear that. I promise to work that much harder for you and others.

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digitalpenstroke · 7 years ago

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Storied Gaming: Fish out of Water

It's hard to know everything that happens in the world. It's constantly changing, even while the little piece of it you inhabit never seems to move an inch. It can be a rather overwhelming concept to think about, especially when it conflicts with everything you knew up to that point. This is what they call the 'fish out of water' trope when you take a character from surroundings they have always known, and place them into an element absolutely foreign to them, but rather commonplace for everyone around them. The trope itself can be an interesting experience for the audience, as it adds the right amount of drama to keep the appeal of the narrative going and offer contextual insight into the world through the eyes of someone also experiencing it for the first time. While we have seen it in some other forms of media, movies for example with works such as Blast from the Past and Thor, we gamers have seen this occur as well. Here are two examples I know of that show off the fish out of water trope.

The Time Traveller

Nothing is more stressful than closing your eyes one moment, then opening them another to find yourself in the future where there is not one item from the past that seems familiar. That moment when a character takes a moment to look around at their surroundings, only to see that what used to be their neighbourhood is something completely different; or, what seems commonplace for the inhabitants of this new world is strange and nearly alien for the character.

In Fallout 4, you play as either Nate or Nora (who you chose to play as the Sole Survivor), who enjoy a typical day in suburban Boston in 2077, the year the bombs drop. The couple, along with their baby, goes to Vault 111, where they are to be cryogenically frozen until it was deemed safe for habitation. When the game gives you control, 200 years pass, and you return to your home only to see their neighbourhood decayed and their civilization drastically changed.

It's here that the Sole Survivor is shown the rules of the new world: Kill or be killed, bottle caps are the new currency, ghouls are both a friend and a threat while the feral ones are worse, trust who you know will be there for you, and – though it's unique to Boston – know who is real and who is a Synth. Before then, the Sole Survivor had no idea what sort of the world the Commonwealth Wasteland had in store for them, acquiring information on organizations like The Minutemen, the Railroad, and the Institute; common household names of saviours and boogeymen, but not ones the Sole Survivor would know.

The Social Outcast

What if you spent your entire life in a bubble? A place where the terrors and fears of the outside world could never reach you, a place where all of your needs are met, and there was never a need for you to take one step outside the front gate. Then, what if one day you had to take that step?

Luke fon Fabre of Tales of the Abyss had such a fate happen to him. His upbringing left him without the need to leave his home at the manor. His education was offered there, he was given three square meals, he trained in the courtyard, and he had friends and family either residing or visiting the manor, so social interaction with someone his age was common. It wasn't until certain events transpire that he was forced to leave the manor and explore the world of Auldrant that he realized how different everything was. Food was not always brought to him on a platter, and what was available to him had to be purchased with currency out of his own pocket. Not everyone was a servant of his uncle, so ordering the average town folk to do his bidding was out of the question. And with no one knowing who he was, or even acknowledging his nobility, he had to learn fast that the social hierarchy doesn't always guarantee immediate recognition of status, nor immediate need to comply with his orders, rather it would be him that would need to heed their orders.

So has there been a time where you felt like a fish out of water? Or do you happen to know of another game that shares this trope? Let's hear it in the comments. Until nex time, don't feel lost out there!

#storied gaming #fish out of water #opinion #Fallout 4 #Tales of the Abyss

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