#And eventually lead me to a second playthrough that solidifies her for me

[maintitle]

I couldn't find my tagged post with my DA protagonist ages, so I had to redo the math, and I am constantly surprised that my Warden is the youngest and my Hawke is the oldest.

The Dalish origin heavily implies that your Dalish is extremely young, so I guess about 19, which means they're only 43 in Veilguard. My Inquisitor is my oldest protagonist in terms of the events of the games at 31, as she had a fairly successful lead mercenary company role and multiple previous companies before the Inquisition, so she'd be 44.

DA2 heavily implies Hawke is about 24-26, so I go for the medium of 25. That means she was 36/37 when she got lost in the Fade, and would've been 49 by the events of Veilguard. To put that in perspective, my Warden would be ONE YEAR YOUNGER than my Inquisitor during the events of Inquisition.

These ages honestly accidentally say a lot about my characters. Vehra Mahariel had the weight of all of Thedas on his shoulders before he even entered his twenties, and he had that weight while he also suffered the after-effects of having the Blight long before The Joining. That really informs his attitude toward the job, very matter-of-fact, very flat in tone. He had to make hard decisions at an extremely young age, and that often lead him to making cold hard choices. His conscious was present but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to cut corners, get his hands dirty, or make personal sacrifices in his happiness or friendships in order to get things done. He lost his entire life, and losing that life left him hyper focused on being a Warden, and it wasn't until he got to sit down for a second after Amaranthine that he realized the mental trauma he went through at such a young age.

Lyla Hawke is somehow the oldest of my characters, and yet the least mature. My Hawke absolutely could not have been the Warden or the Inquisitor. She's not diplomatic, she's somewhat calloused and uses humor to deflect the raw nerves underneath, and she values her friendships over most other things. It's not until the very end of DA2 where she has to make an actual self-sacrificial decision that challenged her moral center in killing her friend or risking a divine march on her home, and I think it cut her to her core. My Hawke is a ball of unresolved trauma, from her family right down to her relationship with a woman who sometimes is lost in what she herself has lost. Where she still outside of the fade, I'm not sure what person she would be. During Inquisition she still hadn't untangled the trauma that Kirkwall did to her, and I do wonder if she could while pushing 50.

Inquisitor Hissera Adaar was a warrior and mercenary and not much else before the Inquisition, it was what she was raised to be by her ex-Qunari Father, and it's work she took pride in. Her story isn't one of growing and maturing, she was already at that point by the beginning of the game. Her story was of self-sacrifice, a battle against identity and her slow growth to fill the role she fell into. She's even-headed, willing to make sacrifices, incredibly talented as a leader, quick to learn but strong in her moral core. That maturity and ability to be malleable helped her survive a job she wouldn't have taken herself, allowing her story to much more be carrying the weight of the politics and morality of vast information networks, both aspects of the job she abhors, and yet becomes talented in. After Inquisition much of her story is balancing the chase for Solas and her need to stand beside her lover as an important diplomatic figure, while also refinding the part of herself she lost along the way secretly in the night.

This is why I need multiple playthroughs to get my characters right. All of this came organically through perfecting the characters and the story they're within. Those ages are a fantastic tell as to who they are, and it's fascinating to see how vastly different they were in age and maturity when the weight fell on their shoulders.

[alligaytorrr-reviews]

A Retrospective on Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies

               Being someone whose online presence began in 2006, gaining a peripheral knowledge of the Ace Attorney series was unavoidable. Still, I knew relatively little for quite a while: I knew that there were attorneys, and that two of them were named Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth; I knew (from the many memes) of “Objection!”; and I knew that at one point, Phoenix cross-examines a parrot. This, along with its popularity in general, was enough to give me a mild interest in the series, but not one strong enough to inspire me to ever make the effort to try it out, at least not until that effort became considerably easier with the release of a free demo for Dual Destinies on the Nintendo 3DS eShop. Everything about this demo instantly endeared the series to me: the immediately charming characters, the excellently funny writing, and the series’ hallmark rush of endorphins from uncovering a lie and watching a cornered witness squirm. I had been in the market for something new to play, as I would shortly be spending three months studying abroad and knew in my down time I’d want the comfort of sitting in bed with my 3DS, and this demo solidified Ace Attorney as that something new. Being about to leave the country, I unfortunately had no time to track down a physical copy of the then-nine-year-old first game in the series, limiting my selection to what was available through the 3DS eShop: Dual Destinies.

                Dual Destinies, being the fifth main entry in the series, is by no means an entry point. But it was mine, and I fell in love with it. My first playthrough was overwhelmingly positive. I was enamored with everything about it, completely surprised to learn that beneath the often wacky exterior, both of the characters and the plot, there was a real depth to the game. I even considered it among my top ten favorites of all time. Later in the year, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy would release on the 3DS eShop, and I would also acquire a copy of Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney. Through playing them, I would learn that this depth is the core of the series’ identity – that is, fun, lighthearted, and clever murder mysteries hiding truly emotional storytelling and excellent character arcs. I would also learn that all of those games were better at this than Dual Destinies, as my second playthrough of it was overwhelmingly unremarkable. My third playthrough, just recently completed, seemingly confirmed this and resulted in a 3,500 word critical essay exploring how the game shoots itself in the foot by attempting to do to much and succeeding at none of it. Yet, unbelievably, as I spent this time elaborating on my negative feelings, I found I had more to say about my positive ones. This doesn’t mean the game doesn’t do too much, because, oh, it does. But there’s just enough good in Dual Destinies that the end result is not one that entirely fails to succeed at what it attempts, just one that fails to capitalize fully on its potential.

               To understand Dual Destinies, it’s necessary to understand where the Ace Attorney series stood just before its release. The original trilogy of games is frequently and rightfully lauded for its stunningly well done ending, which manages to neatly wrap up major plot points and give nearly every character arc a satisfying conclusion – namely, that of main character Phoenix Wright. For all intents and purposes, Ace Attorney could have ended right there, and series creator Shu Takumi indeed intended as much. When it was decided that a new game would be produced, however, Takumi smartly breathed life into it by introducing an almost entirely new cast for what became Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney: newcomer lawyer Apollo Justice, along with a new investigation partner, detective, prosecutor, and… Phoenix Wright. Phoenix’s inclusion came at the insistence of Takumi’s colleagues and against his wishes, but I’m of the opinion that the final product works. Thanks to a seven-year timeskip, the game avoids stepping on the toes of his character arc from the original trilogy while managing to still do interesting things with him. His role as mentor to Apollo creates a fine (if not strictly necessary) through line for the series, and the overarching plot of him having been set up to lose his attorney’s badge and working to prove his innocence is a good one. Some complain that Apollo himself never really does much in the game, and this isn’t an inaccurate assessment, but a protagonist whose agency is constantly usurped by people with a better grasp of what’s going on is a great setup for interesting character development. Only, the game never really feels like it’s making that point (and, spoiler alert: Dual Destinies does nothing with that, specifically, either). Rather, the problem is not that Apollo lacks agency in and of itself, but that he lacks agency specifically because at the end of the day, this is not his game – it’s Phoenix’s.

               It’s for this reason – that Apollo Justice is not really a story about Apollo Justice – that Dual Destinies raises eyebrows with its first moments. Granted, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney is not so much about Phoenix as it is about Miles Edgeworth, but unlike Dual Destinies, its sequel, Ace Attorney: Justice for All, doesn’t immediately introduce a new playable character. This character is Athena Cykes, a fledgling attorney who stands out well enough, being more energetic and chipper than Phoenix or Apollo. The setup for this case, Turnabout Countdown, is one of the more interesting for an introductory episode: a courtroom has been bombed, Apollo’s injuries sustained in the bombing make him unable to lead the case at the last minute, and Athena is thrust into the courtroom alone with her childhood friend’s freedom on the line. The game uses the same shortcut as it has in Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice to help the player connect with Athena (that is, making her terribly nervous) and as a whole, she’s a fine character. It’s nothing about Athena herself that causes unease – it’s the fact that her existing at all begs the question of whether or not Apollo with get justice (pardon the pun) in this game, and if Athena is doomed to suffer the same fate that he did in his debut. The game spares no time compounding these fears, as Athena, struggling in court, is soon saved by none other than Phoenix Wright, who takes over as the playable character halfway through the episode. Not even a full episode into the game, it begs the question of how it will manage to be all that it wants to be: sequel to Apollo Justice, introduction of Athena Cykes, and return of Phoenix Wright. Already, it feels like Apollo has been shoved aside for Athena, who is soon shoved aside for Phoenix. The game will eventually do interesting things with all three, but it never quite assuages the suspicion that it could’ve done better had it narrowed its focus.

               Turnabout Countdown now moves Athena into her alternate role as co-counsel (and investigation partner in later episodes), which causes the unfortunate shelving of Trucy Wright, whose relationship with Apollo after the previous game had plenty of unexplored territory that this game is uninterested in touching. For this loss, Athena offers something to gain: the Mood Matrix, this game’s new gimmick. This is a step up from Apollo’s Perceive ability as it involves some amount of critical thinking, but not much. The Mood Matrix is an admirable attempt to innovate and provide new gameplay for trial chapters, but unfortunately only seldom amounts to more difficult thought processes than “a witness wouldn’t normally feel happy when something bad is happening” and “a witness wouldn’t normally feel surprised when nothing surprising is happening.” Additionally, the explanation for how Athena makes it work is a bit goofy – it relies on her “special hearing” and “listening to a witness’ heart,” which feel like clunky ways to describe hyper empathy. Coupled with the sensory overload she’s described as having experienced as a child, it seems obvious Athena could be autistic, but the game doesn’t confirm this, which is a missed opportunity, especially when it results in such awkward ways of describing her “special ability.” The Mood Matrix has no penalty for wrong answers, so in the few instances where there’s a semblance of a challenge to these segments, a guessing game suffices, which doesn’t help it feel like any more of a worthwhile addition to the game. While on the topic of penalties, this episode provides the first opportunity to experience the excellent quality of life improvement to Game Overs, no longer bumping you back to the last save point, but simply starting over from the point where the player failed. Having to hold the B button to skip through a mountain of text you’ve already read has always been more of an annoyance than a fitting punishment. The penalty system is effectively meaningless because of this, but it can still serve as a personal measure of skill, which is ultimately for the better.

               The Monstrous Turnabout turns the clock back to show how Apollo (playable this time – a relief) and Athena first meet. Like all “filler episodes,” this provides an opportunity to enjoy some character interactions and have their personalities shine. It feels the most like it belongs in a sequel to Apollo Justice out of any episode in the game, starting with Apollo and Trucy taking a casual trip together, before Apollo is once again turned into errand boy, tasked with tracking down new hire, Athena. The fact that Phoenix has been traveling and looking out for new recruits is a nice detail that fits well with the mentor role he took on in Apollo Justice, and as Ace Attorney has always had a found family aspect to it, seeing the Wright Anything Agency expand is welcome. Plus, Apollo and Athena play off each other well, so though it’s unfortunate to see Trucy out of the spotlight, this episode is an overall win in terms of characterization. The case itself, despite featuring the novel premise of a murderous yokai, is mostly unremarkable. It, like all second episodes, begins the inclusion of investigation chapters, which are disappointingly neutered in this game. While other entries have occasionally whisked you away to your next destination, much of where to go and who to talk to was left up to the player. This game constantly ferries you around to exactly where you need to be, which may have been an attempt to streamline and avoid frustration, but ends up robbing the player of a sense that they’re leading the investigation on their own. None of this is helped by the fact that the Examine option is now restricted to only vital areas, especially a shame because all the scenes in the game are beautifully rendered and look great with the 3DS’s stereoscopic 3D turned on too. This case is also the first to show off the new Revisualization mechanic, which tends to come at the end of a case where a previous game would have had a character talk through “turning the case around” and is a fun way of adding visual flair to those moments.

              The most important contribution from this case, though, is the debut of new prosecutor, Simon Blackquill. As with every prosecutor following the first game, he’s equal parts actual character as he is gimmick. This time around, the gimmick is that Blackquill is a convicted felon, standing in court with shackles and having to rely on his pet hawk to deliver evidence and harass others in the room, as opposed to, say, a whip or a cup of coffee. It’s a fun new idea, and the moments where he inevitably breaks out of his shackles in each episode are consistently entertaining. He’s additionally accompanied by his minder and new detective for the game, Bobby Fulbright. It’s unfortunate to not have endlessly unhappy, but always amusing Ema Skye return from Apollo Justice, but Fulbright is a solid replacement. His “commitment to justice” schtick is grating, but in a good way, making him sufficiently annoying but easily enough manipulated into being valuable for the defense’s investigations.

              Now is the best time to talk about the DLC case, since after the second episode is the best time to play it. For Ace Attorney’s first foray into paid DLC, this is definitely a success. It enriches the main game, but the five episodes that comprise Dual Destinies are by all means a complete story on their own. For its price and length, it’s certainly worthwhile, especially given that Turnabout Reclaimed is the best case in Dual Destinies. It tells the story of Phoenix’s first case after regaining his attorney’s badge, so I’ll take this opportunity to say that this is a great plot point. The ending of Apollo Justice hinted that it would happen, and it just feels right to see Phoenix back in his iconic blue suit (especially with a spiffy update that helps sell his role as an older, seasoned mentor). As with everything in this game, though, it feels like a plot point that would have been better served by having more time and focus devoted to it, rather than sharing the stage with the development of two more protagonists. Ignoring that, it’s an excellent case on its own. Taking on the defense of an orca in court feels like only a logically step for Phoenix, and in an obvious callback to one of the best moments in the first game he even cross-examines the whale, though an earlier fake-out where you can either request to do the same, only to have your request shot down by the judge, or choose the correct option and have the judge express surprise that you didn’t make the request, cheapens its impact a bit. Sasha Buckler, the second defendant in the case, is the most likeable defendant in the game (besides Athena, anyway), and Marlon Rimes is the only culprit with any degree of pathos this time around. A revenge plot against a whale is a little silly, but at least it’s something, and it’s nice to see Rimes’ coworkers sympathize with his grief and welcome him back to the aquarium openly. More than the rest of the game’s episodes, it feels like it tells an impactful story on its own, something that makes for the best Ace Attorney cases. Pearl Fey also makes a return here, with welcome confirmation that she and Phoenix have remained friends over the eight years since her last appearance, but her personality is bafflingly untouched despite having last been seen as a nine-year-old. Considering the traumatic events she experienced at the end of Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations, this is disappointing. Truthfully though, exploring her character any further would have only made an already-bloated game feel even more stuffed.

              Periodically, Dual Destinies has been making references to the so-called “dark age of the law.” This is ostensibly a major plot point, but in practice is more the vague idea of a plot point. The game cites the fact that a felon is serving as a prosecutor as evidence of this “dark age,” but this fails to sell the idea well when Blackquill doesn’t particularly stand out among the series’ existing cast of equally wacky prosecutors. It also claims that Phoenix’s case at the center of Apollo Justice’s story, where he presents forged evidence, helped usher in the “dark age,” which at least means that these two games have something to do with each other, but Phoenix never appears to feel any responsibility for this until the end of the game, so it too falls flat. The only time the game actually properly shows what this “dark age” entails is during Turnabout Academy, which is the episode’s strongest point. Professor Aristotle Means, with his “the ends justify the means” preaching, feels like an embodiment of actually tangible ramifications of the “dark age.” That attorneys shamelessly forge evidence to win their cases is bad, but that Means is successfully indoctrinating high school students into his mindset shows the sorry state of the Ace Attorney world’s legal system far better.

              Means is instantly hateable, and his ideological differences with victim Constance Courte make him particularly suspect, but the writing does a good job of forcing doubt that anyone could have done it but Juniper Woods, Hugh O’Conner, or Robin Newman. The case constantly jerks you around as the three friends pile lies upon lies in their attempts to take the fall for each other. This is never as emotionally impactful as the game desperately hopes it is, but it makes for a fun case where it’s hard to find your footing, and it’s satisfying when you prove they’re all innocent and get to take down Means, the true culprit. This is chronologically the first case where Athena leads the defense, though it feels as though the themes and character beats could have been the culmination of her character arc. Means frequently sowing doubt in her that she’ll be able to save all three friends without resorting to his underhanded tactics is a fitting challenge for her as a brand new lawyer. It makes for great character development as she remains determined to do things the right way and proves her capabilities to herself when she succeeds.

              The game now moves on to its penultimate case, though in actuality The Cosmic Turnabout and the next, Turnabout for Tomorrow, are one large case cut in two. The only notable parts of The Cosmic Turnabout specifically are that it’s the second instance of a bait-and-switch where one lawyer (Apollo this time) starts out the case only to have Phoenix come along and take over, which is frustrating even if it makes sense for story reasons, and the reveal at the last minute that Athena is the only suspect that fits your argument, which is an excellently disheartening moment. Besides those points, these two episodes are best talked about as a whole. Wrapping up the game, they attempt to do nearly all of the legwork for character development, which is far from a new occurrence in Ace Attorney, but no finale has ever had three attorneys and a prosecutor to tackle all at once. Despite this, it’s a great case that, through what could only be a divine miracle, manages to do all of this to some satisfactory degree, though it begs the question yet again of what it could have accomplished if only Dual Destinies would ever stop trying to do so much. In a way, it’s a microcosm of how the game holds itself back.

              Turnabout for Tomorrow begins with an investigation chapter featuring Phoenix and daughter Trucy. This is wonderful – Phoenix has always felt like he fit the role of a dad since as early as Justice for All, but it’s nice to have this dedicated father/daughter bonding time, something that hadn’t happened yet. They eventually come upon Apollo conducting his own investigation, having taken a leave of absence from the Wright Anything Agency to pursue the killer of his friend, Clay Terran, alone due to his personal connection to the case. This is the game attempting to provide a backstory for Apollo, but for the most part, the game is content to do little more than say that Apollo did indeed have a friend named Clay, show a brief flashback of the two as middle school students, and hope that it suffices. It doesn’t, but it serves as an excuse for Apollo to potentially be at odds with Phoenix, which provides decent drama and facilitates good development later in the episode. At this point, Trucy decides to stay with Apollo because she’s worried about him, which is an appreciated reminder that the two have a meaningful relationship, even if the rest of the game doesn’t care to explore it, but it does unfortunately cut short the time Phoenix gets to spend with her.

              After this, Phoenix returns to the office alone for one of the best moments in the game. He’s lost the trust of one of his employees and his own argument in court helped implicate the other in a crime. It’s a low point, by his own account the loneliest he’s felt since the start of his career, until he finds a letter from his friend and former assistant Maya Fey, reminding him that even without anybody physically by his side, he’s not truly alone. It’s a moment that could only happen to Phoenix now, as he reminisces about years gone by and reflects on how he’s handled his role as a mentor, which is what makes it so spectacular. It feels like proof that there are still interesting things to be done with the character. The strength of this scene is dampened a bit when it turns out that Maya’s letter doubles as an excuse for Pearl to show up. Having Phoenix investigate on his own, determined to do right by his employees, could have been powerful, but Pearl is here instead, presumably for no reason other than that fans like Pearl. Soon after, another familiar face returns, in the form of Miles Edgeworth. This is more forgivable, as it makes sense that the chief prosecutor would involve himself in a case concerning an international spy, and he’s a more fittingly challenging final opponent for Phoenix than Blackquill would have been.

              The investigation ends with Athena producing five black Psyche-Locks, a moment that feels like a genuine defeat. Despite spending the game with her, she’s still a relatively new character that the player doesn’t really know too much about, and it’s hard not to question if she may have just been responsible for her mother’s murder after all. It’s a fantastic setup for the excellent trial chapters making use of Edgeworth that follow it. Somehow, after all these years Ace Attorney has never managed (perhaps intentionally) to unseat Edgeworth as the prosecutor who is most in control and confident, and the way that he constantly turns Phoenix’s logic back around to prove his own assertions creates a lot of tension between the player’s attachment to Athena and uncertainty about the truth. It’s a direct reflection of Phoenix’s feelings, and it’s times like this where the player’s and the player character’s emotions are in sync that are Ace Attorney at its finest. The focus of these chapters is an exploration of Athena’s past and her trauma, which isn’t the most nuanced, though probably best for a game that wants to stay mostly relatively lighthearted. Besides, it’s already heart wrenchingly painful to watch her have what appears to be panic attacks throughout the game. The bulk of Athena’s character development comes from this, with Phoenix helping her to overcome her trauma. It’s good enough, but for a playable character, it feels like too much of this development comes at the hands of Phoenix powering through the case to uncover the truth. It feels more befitting of a supporting character, which Athena is not.

              Prosecutor Blackquill also receives his backstory here, revealing that he intentionally accepted a false conviction for the murder of Athena’s mother in order to protect Athena as well as the evidence that would help him take down the elusive true culprit. His concern for Athena makes him an immediately more likeable person, and his method of laying in wait for seven years to take down the criminal who wronged him draws obvious parallels to Phoenix and Kristoph Gavin in Apollo Justice, which sets the stage well as the two work together in the final chapter to put an end to the “dark age of the law” that their cases ushered in. The parallel, and even Phoenix’s culpability for helping cause the “dark age,” is never elaborated on as much as it could be, but this conclusion ties together Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies with an overarching plot that works. At this point it’s also revealed that the real Bobby Fulbright is dead, and has been impersonated by the spy and murderer of Athena’s mother known as “the phantom” all along. This twist isn’t particularly impactful as it doesn’t recontextualize much about Fulbright’s behavior aside from his willingness to help the defense.

              None of this, however, comes before Apollo gets his development too. This sequence is excellent, which makes it something of a tragedy. If Apollo’s arc had been laid out more gradually and his backstory fleshed out more, rather than it all coming at the tail end of the game, this might have been even more powerful. Still, what’s there is great: this is Apollo’s moment to decide what being a lawyer means to him, and it helps to define him more clearly as a character apart from Phoenix. This is Apollo’s answer to Phoenix’s Farewell, My Turnabout from Justice for All, which is to say it pushes his beliefs to an extreme and challenges him to reexamine what he stands for. For Phoenix, his unwavering belief in his clients is put to the test when he learns that he’s defending an unquestionably guilty man, forcing him to learn to balance that belief with the pursuit of the truth. For Apollo, his endless pursuit of the truth narrows his view to the point that he doubts even his own friend’s innocence, something he shows he desperately doesn’t want with the best line in the game: “It’s fine, Mr. Wright… even a bluff would suit me just fine…” This singular moment does more for Apollo’s character than the entirety of his own game and the rest of Dual Destinies, and it’s ever so satisfying.

              It was at this point when originally writing this essay that I realized I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. I had set out to discuss every way Dual Destinies sets itself up for failure in its lofty hopes of doing more than it was capable of, yet as I went through, case-by-case, and examined what worked and what didn’t, I discovered that there was a solid story here and that each of its protagonists is developed – if only a little. Originally, I had thought Apollo got the short end of the stick, receiving only one case that didn’t contribute to any sort of character arc and a paper-thin backstory. What I didn’t see was that the game does manage to use it to facilitate some amount of meaningful growth, even if it comes at the very end of the game. I started to think that maybe Athena was the worst off, and given that she’s supposed to be a main character on par with Phoenix or Apollo, I’m inclined to maintain that view, but as a character, divorced from expectations, her story is a touching one. And as for Phoenix, the game shows that his continued relevance has value.

              With one final, fist-pumping-ly exciting triple objection from our lawyers, Dual Destinies just about reaches its end and demonstrates what the game is really about. To some extent, it’s the continuation of Apollo Justice, challenging Apollo to develop as a lawyer. To some extent, it’s the introduction of Athena Cykes, exploring who she is and how she comes to stand confidently in court. And to some extent, it’s the return of Phoenix Wright, as he learns to serve his role as mentor and right the wrongs of his past. Maybe it should have been only one of those things – a more focused story might have made bigger strides for the characters’ development. But above all, Dual Destinies is a story of all three as a team. Unlike how Apollo Justice centered Phoenix over Apollo, no one character outshines both the others this time; each character’s growth is built off their relationships with the each other. Regardless of if this was the right direction, it was the direction nonetheless. In the end, for all its unused potential, Dual Destinies is at the very least, an Ace Attorney game through and through. The themes of discovering who one is and figuring out what one stands for are as present as they’ve ever been, even if they don’t get exactly as much time and attention as they deserve. The game is overly ambitious, certainly, but it crams enough goodness to just barely make it work – that, if nothing else, is an admirable feat.