#I always make a safety save before cutscenes to repeat them but also to make different choices

[deiiamorte]

Because I haven't seen this posted before, here's the dialogue that happens when you break off Lucanis' romance

[iturbide]

Since there’s already a working list of terrible fathers in fire emblem, are there any notable good dads that you can think of? I ask because I’ve recently started on three houses, and Jeralt seems like a cool guy. Also, sorry if this is a repeat ask, the submission screen froze, and I wasn’t sure if it went through.

Actually this is the first time the ask came through, so thanks for re-sending!  Tumblr is constantly full of problems, I swear.

But as for good dads, probably the shining example I will always fall back on is Chrom.  He is canonically a loving husband and doting father (Lucina herself talks about it in their supports), and he personally taught her swordplay, something she brings up not just in her supports, but in an in-game cutscene.  Lucina very clearly loves him dearly, and even when he’s at his most unprepared -- confronted by his daughter from a ruined future after she saved him from almost-certain death -- his thoughts are not about trying to understand the situation, but comforting Lucina, apologizing because she “deserved better than one sword and a world of troubles” and holding her when she breaks down.  He’s just a really, really good father.

There’s also Hector and Eliwood from Binding Blade, both of whom really seemed to be caring, loving fathers to their kids.  Hector stated outright that he would protect his daughter Lilina to his own death (which, unfortunately, ends up happening), and despite his failing health Eliwood seemed intent on facing the threat of Bern himself until it became clear that he physically couldn’t, at which point he tasked his son with leadership -- along with professional soldiers and mercenaries who he hoped would ensure Roy’s safety. 

Other examples, though, weirdly include Arvis.  He’s one of those cases where as a person he does some frankly horrific shit in the name of his goals, but as a parent he seems to be quite devoted and loving.  It’s important to remember that he only found out his blood relation to Deirdre after Julius and Julia were born -- but rather than cast them out or harm them, he kept them close, raised them well -- and even when things went so wrong, once Julius was possessed by Loptyr, he tried to find ways to save and support Julia before his death.  A lot can be said about him, but “he was a terrible parent” doesn’t really fit, especially when his dying words are him literally calling out for his wife and daughter.

Also, not gonna lie, Jeralt is a really, really good dad as far as I can see.  Did he make a ton of mistakes?  Oh, heck yes.  Was it malicious?  Of course not.  He very clearly loved his child and did his best in spite of the difficulties and uncertainties.  Byleth was a weird kid, quiet and seemingly emotionless, not to mention the whole missing heartbeat deal, but Jeralt took care of them, raised them, trained them, and tried so hard to shield them from a danger he couldn’t begin to comprehend.  His death hurt a lot, at least for me, because I was really hoping we could have a decent parent actually live through the full course of the story but noooooo they had to take him too just like they do all the good dads.

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Absolutely No One Asked for This but HERE IT IS ANYWAY 

(also known as how I would’ve written the Rome Singularity in Fate Grand Order because it COULD have been great but... was kind of... meh.) 

Under the read-more because I have a tendency to ramble, ANYWHO...

So we begin roughly the same way - the party arrives on a hill in the Italian peninsula, overlooking a battle. One side is clearly about to be overwhelmed by the other - the larger army is also Conveniently Populated with ghouls and zombies, cluing our heroes in as to who the Good Guys are for this chapter of the story. The party intervenes and the commander of the armies make their appearance - one is the teenage Emperor Nero and the other is, gasp! Caligula, who is supposed to be dead.

The team quickly deduces that Nero’s reign is the Singularity and that the enemy - at this point, still Dr. Lainur - is using the Holy Grail to resurrect powerful Heroic Spirits of the Roman Empire in order to destroy the foundation of humanity here, at one of the most pivotal moments of Western civilization. I would also include characters like Caesar, Leonidas, and maybe Alexander (or perhaps Heroic Spirit Hannibal of Carthage riding atop a war elephant because COME ON, DELIGHT-WORKS, DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF HERE??!) working reluctantly alongside Caligula in the first appearance, making it abundantly clear that they are being controlled by outside forces. The main difference is that I would also include Boudica among the enemy army - her hatred of Nero would certainly be enough to motivate her initially. So in any case, the plan might’ve worked had Nero not been motivated by equal parts narcissism and genuine love of the people to hold onto the throne. Nero accepts the party as allies and introduces them to Jing Ke, her “ambassador from the East.” Jing Ke further clarifies that she’s a Heroic Spirit who specializes in assassinating emperors. (”Uh, Jing Ke, didn’t you FAIL to assassinate the Emperor the first time around?” “It was simply fated that I would die that day. Besides, assassination is really more of a hobby for me.”) With all of this information, Nero decides to immediately use their newfound strength to take the fight to her uncle - but before she can do that, Caligula and Boudica arrive and the two of them set fire to the city of Rome.

Fleeing to the harbor for safety, the party is caught in a storm and winds up on a Mysterious Mythical Island somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea. There, they met Stheno, the eldest of the Gorgon Sisters, who spills the Tea regarding Nero’s haphazard rise to power and basically affirms that, while her love for the people and country is genuine, her selfishness and unwillingness to compromise with other leaders is what will bring her down in the end. Stheno’s quest happens in more or less the same way, but it’s really just a test to see if the player’s conviction to save humanity is genuine. After the player returns, Stheno tells them that perhaps they can defeat the other emperors by legitimizing Nero somehow. At this point, she directs them to Romulus, the great founder of Rome itself. Romulus declares that, as the child of a war god and Heroic Spirit, the only way to prove worth as a ruler is by defeating him in Single Combat. Also, Romulus should be a five-star Servant and ridiculously strong compared to the other enemies, just to emphasize how much of a Big Fuckin Deal this dude is, both in the mythology of Rome and to Nero’s personal story.

Nero is a little bit shaken by the effort it takes to defeat Romulus, but he declares that since she is still young, she will surely grow as an emperor - and as such, he will see to it that she remains on the throne. This should be a moment of some character development for Nero, who in this timeline has only just taken the throne and is still grappling with the responsibilities she has as an Emperor. Romulus should tell her that a true leader is not simply the strongest warrior, but someone who can plant the seeds that can allow future generations to thrive. Then we would get a cut scene where Jing Ke manages to assassinate Caligula just for the hell of it. 

The party now makes its way back to Rome, which has been badly damaged by the fire. As they clear the city of remaining enemies, they gather a small crowd which demands to know why Nero fled during the fire instead of defending them from the armies of Boudica and Caligula. Nero at first tries to make Romulus stand up for her, but he declines. Nero is able to use her charisma to pacify the crowd somewhat and declares that she will continue personally overseeing the battles against the False Emperors, ending the battle swiftly so that she may return to build up a new Rome that is stronger than ever before. The seeds of discontent are still in the crowd but Nero herself is filled with renewed determination. The party heads out into the wilds of “Barbarian” Europe. 

At this point, you really start encountering the Enemy Servants, but it becomes quickly apparent to Lainur - revealed through cutscenes - that a lot of these people don’t ACTUALLY want Rome destroyed. Leonidas and Alexander aren’t Romans but enjoy the chance to battle against legends like Romulus and are grateful when they are defeated. Caesar gripes and groans and goes easy on Nero, peppering his fight with advice as to how she - his descendant - might continue his legacy. Even Boudica is beginning to show signs of discontent as she realizes that the imminent destruction of Rome won’t bring her daughters or husband back - but will eventually lead to the destruction of her beloved Britainnia as well. I think Hannibal would’ve been a better addition to the lineup here because I think his motivation for the destruction of Rome (avenging his devastated nation), contrasts pretty strongly with Boudica’s more personal drive (she may hate Rome but she doesn’t really want to destroy the entire world). The party might fight Boudica here, but once you beat her, she escapes back to the capital and a frustrated Lainur then decides to summon a third, powerful Heroic Spirit - Attila the Hun. These three “scourges” of Rome are then sent out to defeat you.

Jing Ke rejoins the party just before Nero and Friends arrive at the False Capital, which is located somewhere between France and Germany. She tells them of Atilla’s summoning and fears the worst. You push forward, defeating Boudica first. After which Hannibal might appear and Boudica, having had a change of heart and deciding that her true loyalties lie with defending Britainnia, not destroying humanity. Boudica joins your party after a heart-to-heart with Nero, in which Nero should display her first moment of true humility, and then you go on to beat Hannibal, finally moving on to Attila. 

After defeating Attila, you get to Lainur and the Demon Pillar, at which point the idea of Solomon as the antagonist was introduced if I remember correctly. In the aftermath of that battle, the team muses about the nature of leadership and legacy. Romulus declares that Rome is the eternal city and would never fall, etc, etc, etc and it’s all very hopeful and sweet - and you disappear and ta da! End of Singularity. Boss fights galore - Romulus as the Five Star Servant he rightfully deserves to be - and maybe character development for Nero and Boudica. 

There’s an alternative version of this where I think it would be possible to include Attila from the beginning (at the expense of Alexander and Leonidas), and then have the Final Boss Servant be Remus - the murdered brother of Romulus. But either way, I think the main thing is just to not have the party running haphazardly across Europe as much - and include a few more nuggets of Real History, like the Great Fire of Rome and the devastation of Carthage and whatnot.The main theme of the chapter should be “legacy,” in the way that there is no such thing as a “pure” country or “perfect” person, but that humans should always strive to build better things and work to not repeat the mistakes and pains of their ancestors. Rome should be a hopeful and spirited Singularity with a more focused plot line, and I think it would do a world of good! I actually really liked the chapter but it was so... unfocused... or rather, it was so focused on hyping up Nero that it forgot to have a coherent storyline with a climax and resolution.

Anyway, if you have suggestions or something then feel free to reply or message because I think A Lot of how I would’ve written or rewritten some stuff in Grand Order.

[interwhatever]

Denouement

the final part of a play, film, or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved; the outcome of a situation, when something is decided or made clear

(This was written for Critical Distance’s Blogs of the Round Table, July 2017. It also happens to be my first piece of public writing in more than a decade, and the first time I’ve written about games.)

The idea of denouement can be understood as referring to particular points in the plot of the game, such as when a quest is completed, a boss battle is won, or a raiding party disbands after a successful mission. This interpretation relies on being able to piece together a single, linear storyline from all of the successful periods of play-time leading up to it, and ignoring the parts that break this single thread apart - deaths, failures, bad decisions, or just breaks between play sessions.

But I want to talk about denouement as an artefact of, on the one hand, the way video games deal with time (or rather, how they fail to deal with it), and on the other hand, the way they are produced and distributed as cultural entities. In short: due to their highly flexible approach to time, their decoupling of cause and effect, and their actual production as user-tested, QA’d commodities, to play a video game can be read as entering a state of permanent denouement. The outcome of any situation in a game is knowable in advance. To play is to recover a concrete path of actions that leads to this outcome.

Two timelines

One of the unique aspects of video games as a storytelling media is their relationship with time. Typically in a video game, a player must perform some particular action or sequence of actions within certain limits (i.e. without making any mistakes). Do so, and the game advances. Until then, the game world remains in a sort of stasis. A failure to stay within the prescribed limits will cause time in the game to jump backwards to the start of the sequence of actions, offering the player the chance to try again. The world will wait for you, and is typically happy to wait for you forever if needs be.

Performed actions can be un-performed by restarting from a checkpoint or loading a saved game, which will un-make decisions, un-find treasure, revert clarified outcomes to un-clarity, and resurrect enemies, friends, and dead players. The effect is to render cause and effect meaningless: in the areas where technical, production, and budget constraints haven’t placed severe limits on player agency (i.e. the areas where cause and effect is free to operate), any effect can be nullified at a whim, with no cost.

There are two timelines at work here: the first is the single thread that makes up the unbroken “story” of the game (minus the player’s misadventures and failures), the second unfolds in real time for the player as they grapple with the game mechanics and physical gaming machine, misadventures and failures included. 

In the first timeline, the outcome is already known, the outcome of every situation designed, whiteboxed, scripted, voice-acted and motion-captured, just waiting for the player to activate it. Clear the room of aliens, access the ancient library, and open the loot box; jump off the final platform to safety, trigger the checkpoint and watch the cutscene; swing your sword at the giant that one last time and down he falls, dead.

The second timeline, the one in which you as the player exist, consists entirely of the process of making the first timeline a reality.

Time in games is weird


When travelling the lands of Temeria as Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher, on numerous occasions you will meet other characters who promise to meet you, at some vaguely-defined point in the future, by the entrance to a cave (or near a forest, or at an inn, or on an island). You can travel immediately to the cave, and they will be there waiting for you; or you can wander around for a while or more, arriving at the cave after many further hours of play time (which may correspond to weeks of game-world time) — and they will be there waiting for you. 

(Were they there the whole time? Did time progress for them like it did for you? If it did, didn’t they get bored? If it didn’t — what the hell???)



So, you’ve shown up, and now you’ll venture into the cave together and defeat the enemies. Or you’ll die, and respawn, and they’ll respawn beside you. Or you’ll load a save game from before you entered the cave and they’ll pop back to their place by the cave, waiting for you to arrive. In any case, they wait for you forever, and then you complete the always already completed quest in the cave together.

You have one new message! *BEEP*

In Hotline Miami, every day begins with a phone call and a slab of impossibly psychadelic sunset morning hangover music, before being consummated with wholesale violence and slaughter requiring hair-trigger timing so brutally difficult that multiple attempts are often required before you can even get past the first room. Checkpoints, although placed as little as 20 seconds of game time apart, can take tens of minutes of repeated attempts to unlock. After each failure, game-time instantly rewinds to the last checkpoint: dead baddies resurrected, blood splatters un-splattered, weapons un-collected, bullets un-fired, with a pacing that throws you immediately back into the world as though nothing happened. 



When a level is complete the day ends, and a new day follows relentlessly with another phone call and, again, that impossibly psychadelic morning hangover music. In the background there’s something with roosters? or dogs? whatever. Time passes but its passing has no meaning. There is nothing beyond your house, your car, a few fast food joints, and the houses of your enemies — and each of your enemy’s houses has always already been beaten, you just have to discover how. 



Souls


The Souls games are explicit in their understanding of a video game’s relationship with time. Respawning is, rather than a conceit, a central pillar of the story. The world is already dead, the world has been dying forever, over and over again; every time you die the world un-dies so that you can die in it, for it, over and over again. 

There is no explicit saved game mechanism — or rather, your game is always already saved. Your death can have tangible, painful, frustrating meaning to you, but is essential to progression: death is the game’s way of teaching you how to play. But this means that, in order for there to be any possibility of beating the game, the outcome of any situation presented to you must be already known in advance: you will learn the attack patterns, you will defeat the boss; you always already have defeated the boss, but there’s a boolean false in your saved game that needs to get flipped to true, and the only way to that will happen is if you dance with the animated figure in just the right way that you avoid his giant fiery sword. 



And you are not alone in your death. The Souls universe has always existed in abstract, every creature that inhabits its circular timelines existing in a state of simultaneous death and life. Each specific instance of the world (the one that assembles itself when you launch the game executable) contains an encoding of the life-or-death states of every creature, but these creatures are also always already dead, the bosses always already defeated: all possible outcomes thoroughly QA’d and balanced, checked, approved, signed-off before shipping.

It seems impossible to defeat when you are in the middle of it, but you know that it was crafted to be beaten, and countless other players have defeated it before you, and countless will afterward. The outcome of the situation is clear: there is a you that has always already beaten the boss in your instance of the world, and you just have to become that you, armed with the knowledge that the same boss has always already been beaten many times over: a finite number in the real world, and an infinite number in the eternal cyclical death and rebirth of the Souls universe itself.


Manufactured cultural objects


Games are manufactured objects, and when we approach them we bring this understanding with us, that they were built to be beaten, that care and attention has been spent to ensure that they are beatable, and enjoyable in the process. As we implicitly trust the film director to guide us enough that we understand what is happening in the world of their film, so we trust game designers to present us with challenges that are possible to overcome. Somewhere in the real world there is someone who has already completed this challenge. The moment I pick up the controller, the outcome is always already known, clear, and decided: the game has always already been completed, playing it is the process of discovering what that entailed.