Palas
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Relaxamento e meditação via fomento da expressão artística encarnado na forma de um Zelda-like. A pintura é tudo: mecânicas de movimentação, escape criativo, paralelos e metáforas, e o que corre no sangue de todas as fofinhas criaturas com nome de comida que aqui habitam - todas suas aplicações são dadas seu devido valor, o tempo para cheirar as rosas e desenhar um pintinho aqui e lá tão importante para a aventura quanto as provações que nossa heroína enfrenta. O co-op apenas eleva a experiência: arte é melhor quando partilhada, afinal. E é através dos pastéis e das aquarelas, dos rabiscos ociosos e das obras de arte comedidas, que trilhamos uma jornada quase-épica contra a síndrome do impostor e danosas relações parasociais.
Lá para o final, vira basicamente isso aqui.
Lá para o final, vira basicamente isso aqui.
Chrono Cross
1999
Another entry from my List of the Thirty-Five Best Games I Played in 2023, now available à la carte:
On Chrono Cross (Or — "How I Developed a Palate for Poison")
My grandmother doesn’t live in Vermont anymore. A couple years ago, she and I went back there together and rented a place to relive those days. Naturally, the rental had some similarities to her old place. We drove around, taking in familiar sights, waiting for the rest of the family to join us. I fired up Chrono Cross for the first time one evening, and promptly came down with a case of water poisoning.
If I believed in omens, I’d take that as a bad one. I touched a game about a character who finds himself in an eerie facsimile of home, itself the strange and twisted sequel of a beloved favorite, and it left me hurling into a toilet. The water supply we’d been drawing from was unfit for human consumption. I spent the recovery period with Chrono Trigger and Dragon Quest V on DS, beneath the more familiar ceiling of a family friend’s house. I’d later start writing a non-review about how I didn’t have to play Chrono Cross, eschewing the pretense of being some aspiring member of the Backloggd “videogame intelligentsia.” I don’t need “cred,” right??
Well.
I played Chrono Trigger again in 2023 at least twice, depending on how you define a “playthrough”. The first was because I’d just finished Final Fantasy X and wanted to make some unfair comparisons. The second was because I was three-fourths of the way through Chrono Cross and…wanted to make some unfair comparisons. Even in the thick of it, I was avoiding the inevitable.
So…About the Game
Cross makes every effort possible to be anything but a clean, obedient sequel to its father. And you know what? Good. Trigger’s development was predicated on originality, and should likewise be followed up with another adventurous convention-breaker. The “Chrono Trigger 2” advocated by the likes of Johnny Millennium doesn’t appeal to me; lightning doesn’t strike twice. Still, Cross is Trigger’s opposite even in ways it really shouldn’t be.
With the exception of its original PSX audiovisual presentation, some of the most colorful and lush I’ve ever experienced, just about every one of its ideas is noncommittal and indecisive. Monsters appear on the overworld again, but you won’t find anything as deliberately paced as Trigger’s level design to elevate this from the status of "mild convenience." The conceit of its combat system is worth exploring – characters deal physical damage to build spell charges — but the deluge of party members and fully customizable spell slots amounts to a game that would’ve been impossible to balance. Level-ups are only granted during boss fights, and the gains acquired in normal battles aren’t worth the effort, so the whole thing snaps in half not 50% of the way through. It isn’t measured to account for the fact that you can take down just about everything with an onslaught of physical attacks by the midgame.
Then again, if the combat had been as challenging as the story is bizarre, I don’t know that I would’ve stuck around all the way to the end. Maybe I wouldn’t have been as gung-ho about swapping party members around and collecting them like Pokémon. Amid its spectacle and ambition, the wonder of sailing the seas and crossing dimensions, I left most events unsure of what to think, positive or negative. It wasn’t ambivalence, exactly.
SPOILERS AHEAD
It’s like this: Fairly early on, you’re given an infamous decision. One of the major protagonists, Kid, is dying of a magically-inflicted illness, and the only antidote is Hydra Humour. If you agree to go after it, you’ll find that it can only be extracted from the Guardian of the Marshes, and its death would mean the deterioration of the ecosystem which relies upon it. The dwarves and all other life in this biome would be put at risk. I weighed my options. I decided to reload a save and refuse the quest. Kid wouldn’t want her life to come at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands of others. So I start down the opposite path…
…Only to find that, in this route, a squad of human soldiers kills the hydra anyway, leaving the dwarves to flee their uninhabitable home to lead a genocidal attack on the fairies’ island to claim it for themselves. Jesus. The dwarves’ manic strangeness did little to downplay how chilling the result of my little coin flip was.
After an effort to defend the few remaining fairies and keep the dwarves at bay — leaving the survivors to process the turmoil of their new reality — after all that…it turns out that Kid is fine. She got over the illness by herself, offscreen.
For as many words as it goes on to spew, no moment of my Chrono Cross playthrough spoke louder than this one. Chrono Trigger’s party was faced with a choice — allow Lavos to erupt from the planet and drive everything to the brink of extinction, or risk everything to prevent the apocalypse. It’s a thousand years away, these three characters can live out the rest of their days comfortably and never have to concern themselves with it. They’re shown an End of Time, proof that the universe won’t last regardless of what they do, and still decide to fight on behalf of the world. It’s worth trying, if only to preserve a few more precious seconds of life for their descendants and their home.
Chrono Cross (eventually) reveals that their meddling allowed Lavos to become an even more devastating monster. We can defeat it, but who can say that won’t result in an even more cataclysmic fate? Because he lives and breathes, Serge’s timeline is worse off. It’s hard to tell whether that’s lore nonsense, self-flagellation on the game’s part, or genuine philosophizing. It wouldn’t be alone in that. As a chronic “downer,” I can’t help wondering if there’s no way to survive in the modern world without directly or indirectly participating in human suffering.
Maybe Writer/Director Masato Kato couldn’t either. He seems bent on reminding the player that they are but a speck in a cosmic puzzle, and there’s no defiant “so what?” answer to that problem. Even the thing we’ve been led to accomplish isn’t revealed until seconds before the finale of this forty hour game (and that's NOT a joke). You can’t see the credits without recognizing that it’s an unfortunate victim of mismanagement and a little too much Evangelion, but that doesn’t mean it fails to resonate. I don't think there’s another game that so thoroughly captures the existential confusion of being alive.
On Chrono Cross (Or — "How I Developed a Palate for Poison")
My grandmother doesn’t live in Vermont anymore. A couple years ago, she and I went back there together and rented a place to relive those days. Naturally, the rental had some similarities to her old place. We drove around, taking in familiar sights, waiting for the rest of the family to join us. I fired up Chrono Cross for the first time one evening, and promptly came down with a case of water poisoning.
If I believed in omens, I’d take that as a bad one. I touched a game about a character who finds himself in an eerie facsimile of home, itself the strange and twisted sequel of a beloved favorite, and it left me hurling into a toilet. The water supply we’d been drawing from was unfit for human consumption. I spent the recovery period with Chrono Trigger and Dragon Quest V on DS, beneath the more familiar ceiling of a family friend’s house. I’d later start writing a non-review about how I didn’t have to play Chrono Cross, eschewing the pretense of being some aspiring member of the Backloggd “videogame intelligentsia.” I don’t need “cred,” right??
Well.
I played Chrono Trigger again in 2023 at least twice, depending on how you define a “playthrough”. The first was because I’d just finished Final Fantasy X and wanted to make some unfair comparisons. The second was because I was three-fourths of the way through Chrono Cross and…wanted to make some unfair comparisons. Even in the thick of it, I was avoiding the inevitable.
So…About the Game
Cross makes every effort possible to be anything but a clean, obedient sequel to its father. And you know what? Good. Trigger’s development was predicated on originality, and should likewise be followed up with another adventurous convention-breaker. The “Chrono Trigger 2” advocated by the likes of Johnny Millennium doesn’t appeal to me; lightning doesn’t strike twice. Still, Cross is Trigger’s opposite even in ways it really shouldn’t be.
With the exception of its original PSX audiovisual presentation, some of the most colorful and lush I’ve ever experienced, just about every one of its ideas is noncommittal and indecisive. Monsters appear on the overworld again, but you won’t find anything as deliberately paced as Trigger’s level design to elevate this from the status of "mild convenience." The conceit of its combat system is worth exploring – characters deal physical damage to build spell charges — but the deluge of party members and fully customizable spell slots amounts to a game that would’ve been impossible to balance. Level-ups are only granted during boss fights, and the gains acquired in normal battles aren’t worth the effort, so the whole thing snaps in half not 50% of the way through. It isn’t measured to account for the fact that you can take down just about everything with an onslaught of physical attacks by the midgame.
Then again, if the combat had been as challenging as the story is bizarre, I don’t know that I would’ve stuck around all the way to the end. Maybe I wouldn’t have been as gung-ho about swapping party members around and collecting them like Pokémon. Amid its spectacle and ambition, the wonder of sailing the seas and crossing dimensions, I left most events unsure of what to think, positive or negative. It wasn’t ambivalence, exactly.
SPOILERS AHEAD
It’s like this: Fairly early on, you’re given an infamous decision. One of the major protagonists, Kid, is dying of a magically-inflicted illness, and the only antidote is Hydra Humour. If you agree to go after it, you’ll find that it can only be extracted from the Guardian of the Marshes, and its death would mean the deterioration of the ecosystem which relies upon it. The dwarves and all other life in this biome would be put at risk. I weighed my options. I decided to reload a save and refuse the quest. Kid wouldn’t want her life to come at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands of others. So I start down the opposite path…
…Only to find that, in this route, a squad of human soldiers kills the hydra anyway, leaving the dwarves to flee their uninhabitable home to lead a genocidal attack on the fairies’ island to claim it for themselves. Jesus. The dwarves’ manic strangeness did little to downplay how chilling the result of my little coin flip was.
After an effort to defend the few remaining fairies and keep the dwarves at bay — leaving the survivors to process the turmoil of their new reality — after all that…it turns out that Kid is fine. She got over the illness by herself, offscreen.
For as many words as it goes on to spew, no moment of my Chrono Cross playthrough spoke louder than this one. Chrono Trigger’s party was faced with a choice — allow Lavos to erupt from the planet and drive everything to the brink of extinction, or risk everything to prevent the apocalypse. It’s a thousand years away, these three characters can live out the rest of their days comfortably and never have to concern themselves with it. They’re shown an End of Time, proof that the universe won’t last regardless of what they do, and still decide to fight on behalf of the world. It’s worth trying, if only to preserve a few more precious seconds of life for their descendants and their home.
Chrono Cross (eventually) reveals that their meddling allowed Lavos to become an even more devastating monster. We can defeat it, but who can say that won’t result in an even more cataclysmic fate? Because he lives and breathes, Serge’s timeline is worse off. It’s hard to tell whether that’s lore nonsense, self-flagellation on the game’s part, or genuine philosophizing. It wouldn’t be alone in that. As a chronic “downer,” I can’t help wondering if there’s no way to survive in the modern world without directly or indirectly participating in human suffering.
Maybe Writer/Director Masato Kato couldn’t either. He seems bent on reminding the player that they are but a speck in a cosmic puzzle, and there’s no defiant “so what?” answer to that problem. Even the thing we’ve been led to accomplish isn’t revealed until seconds before the finale of this forty hour game (and that's NOT a joke). You can’t see the credits without recognizing that it’s an unfortunate victim of mismanagement and a little too much Evangelion, but that doesn’t mean it fails to resonate. I don't think there’s another game that so thoroughly captures the existential confusion of being alive.
Adventure
1979
The first great triumph of purely videogame adventure is also one of the first great triumphs of abstraction. The power of Adventure goes beyond the evocative, which is no menial thing, but embraces a wholly abstract language to build a world far more robust and plausible than any other that actively attempts to imitate reality.
It is curious for Colossal Cave Adventure to be one of the main sources of inspiration. It isn’t unexpected that it was taken as a source, as there must not have been many successful examples at the time in the search of adventure, but in how the paths diverged, almost reactionary. Adventure gets rid of words altogether to commit to a total physical world. Consequently, contrary to what abandoning immediate realism may imply, the world of Adventure becomes much more intuitive and believable. There is no longer the conflict of having to puzzle out what kind of commands a word processor is able to understand or not in order to move forward, there is instead the discovery of a system that, while allowing itself to be much simpler, is also much more transparent.
You can grab objects and drop them, birds can also carry (and steal) objects, magnets attract objects contained in the same screen, bridges allow you to cross walls (or whatever they are)... All these rules are not broken at any time and lead to a world that, as Tim Schafer says in the Atari 50 Collection, seems alive, that is able to exist even if the player is not present. Thus, birds can carry away a dragon, a key, a magnet attracting a key, or the player can peek sections of the world while traveling defeated in the belly of a dragon. This contributes in two areas: one of wit from being able to use the available elements in our favor to avoid or tackle obstacles, and another of unpredictability, chaos and life, because given the rules the dislocations of all the elements throughout the map during the game are more than certain. There is always a factor that requires improvisation while continuing the discovery.
It’s difficult to explain how well Adventure applies multiple abstractions to its advantage since many of them have been irremediably absorbed by everything that would come after. As Terry Cavanagh understood in Mr. Platformer, paying homage to similar early titles such as Atari 2600’s Pitfall or Montezuma’s Revenge, these first videogame steps that began to understand abstraction also began to use it as a liberating language. Where entering through a door into a fortress was teleporting into a labyrinth, moving past the edge of the screen was discovering a new piece of the world and doing so repeatedly on the same side discovered a spatially impossible loop.
It's a process of genuine discovery because it doesn’t attempt to clumsily replicate reality, but rather to discover new ways of navigating, interacting and understanding a world. And in the face of all these new, impossible and abstract forms remains a strong, direct and unmistakable sensation: Adventure.
It is curious for Colossal Cave Adventure to be one of the main sources of inspiration. It isn’t unexpected that it was taken as a source, as there must not have been many successful examples at the time in the search of adventure, but in how the paths diverged, almost reactionary. Adventure gets rid of words altogether to commit to a total physical world. Consequently, contrary to what abandoning immediate realism may imply, the world of Adventure becomes much more intuitive and believable. There is no longer the conflict of having to puzzle out what kind of commands a word processor is able to understand or not in order to move forward, there is instead the discovery of a system that, while allowing itself to be much simpler, is also much more transparent.
You can grab objects and drop them, birds can also carry (and steal) objects, magnets attract objects contained in the same screen, bridges allow you to cross walls (or whatever they are)... All these rules are not broken at any time and lead to a world that, as Tim Schafer says in the Atari 50 Collection, seems alive, that is able to exist even if the player is not present. Thus, birds can carry away a dragon, a key, a magnet attracting a key, or the player can peek sections of the world while traveling defeated in the belly of a dragon. This contributes in two areas: one of wit from being able to use the available elements in our favor to avoid or tackle obstacles, and another of unpredictability, chaos and life, because given the rules the dislocations of all the elements throughout the map during the game are more than certain. There is always a factor that requires improvisation while continuing the discovery.
It’s difficult to explain how well Adventure applies multiple abstractions to its advantage since many of them have been irremediably absorbed by everything that would come after. As Terry Cavanagh understood in Mr. Platformer, paying homage to similar early titles such as Atari 2600’s Pitfall or Montezuma’s Revenge, these first videogame steps that began to understand abstraction also began to use it as a liberating language. Where entering through a door into a fortress was teleporting into a labyrinth, moving past the edge of the screen was discovering a new piece of the world and doing so repeatedly on the same side discovered a spatially impossible loop.
It's a process of genuine discovery because it doesn’t attempt to clumsily replicate reality, but rather to discover new ways of navigating, interacting and understanding a world. And in the face of all these new, impossible and abstract forms remains a strong, direct and unmistakable sensation: Adventure.
Balatro
2024
> select 5 King with glass, polychrome and red seal
> 5 good jokers
> Flush Five lvl.xx
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
???????????
Score: 1.3583e21
GAME OF THE YEAR 2024
> 5 good jokers
> Flush Five lvl.xx
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
> +10 chips 2x Mult x1.5 Mult (Retrigger)
???????????
Score: 1.3583e21
GAME OF THE YEAR 2024
Slay the Princess
2023
This review contains spoilers
ENG above; PT-BR abaixo.
Brandon Boone – The Princess
——————————
Once upon a time, there was a princess and a fool.
The fool did as he was told, and was quickly outsmarted by the princess’ sharp wit. He persisted in his task and she foiled him each time. He thought he’d known everything about the world: his role, his goal, good and evil. His truth and his happiness.
This amused the princess, who made it obvious to even the fool that life was unfathomably larger than he thought. The two locked in an indomitable tango, every step filled with surprise and joy, every motion filled with insight and possibility. She taught the fool more than he ever knew before, and, occasionally, his simple perspective impressed her, too.
Once upon a time, there was a princess who was far more complex than the fool could have imagined.
The fool questioned her. Though she spoke nothing but her truth, every answer made him hesitant. She demanded that he move when all he knew was stillness. He attempted to keep pace, knowing that there was no compromise with this amount of determination.
The princess was far more adept than the fool, and her leaps and bounds exhausted him. This was a pleasant exertion, however, as the burn only meant that the two would eventually learn to stride as one. She had no need to disguise her bold nature, for the fool thought it endearing.
Once upon a time, there was a delicate princess who the fool adored with all his heart.
The fool and the princess had found respite in one another. No longer did they have to be alert and on guard at all times — they hardly could, flush with infatuation. All that mattered were honeyed giggles and sweet nothings.
Though idyllic romance was a treat to the both of them, one cannot live off tenderness alone. Unsure of her desires, the princess collapsed into herself, becoming someone far different. The fool, wracked with dismay, remembered his pledge to always love the unshakeable core of her being. Was this promise unwise?
Once upon a time, there was a wounded princess who kept the fool at arm’s length.
The fool’s panicked flailing had hurt the princess. His spontaneous reaction to the feeling of helplessness was unintelligent, inappropriate, and most of all, inconsiderate. He didn’t, and couldn’t, realize this until she spelled it out for him. Just how oblivious could he truly be?
The princess had other things to worry about. It hadn’t only been the fool who injured her. She was covered in gashes and bound against her will. The fool could, and maybe should, have left her behind. They both knew her resilience outmatched her predicament. Instead, he asked the princess to allow him one last arrogance: to remain by her side as she healed.
The princess pondered, cautious and apprehensive. In the end, she allowed him. Was this unwise?
…
Having woven myriad realities, the needle that pulled the princess and the fool together seemed to be running out of thread. Should this be the end of their story? To never hear each other’s voices again? To share caresses only in distant dreams?
A more erudite person might know how to live with heartbreak. How to store themself away for safekeeping. I, on the other hand, am but a fool. A ceaseless simpleton, a stranger to the very idea of giving up.
A thousand dawns and a thousand sunsets cannot encapsulate the smallest span of my passion. Call my name whenever you’d like and I’ll be by your side without a second thought. Of the innumerable souls that have intertwined with mine, I cherish yours the most. In infinite existence, I find my home in you. Throughout eternity, my unchanging desire is to hold your hand in mine.
From the very essence of my being, I shout to the universe that I will find my love, forever and always.
——————————
Era uma vez uma princesa e um tolo.
O tolo obedecia às ordens que recebera e foi rapidamente eludido pelo acúmen da princesa. Ele persistiu em sua tarefa e ela ludibriou todas as suas tentativas. Ele pensava saber tudo sobre o mundo: seu papel, seu propósito, o bem e o mal. Sua verdade e sua felicidade.
Com gracejo, a princesa tornou óbvio até para o tolo que a vida é incomensuravelmente maior do que ele imaginava. Os dois iniciaram um tango implacável, cada passo dotado de surpresa e alegria, cada movimento repleto de introspecção e possibilidade. Ela ensinou mais ao tolo do que ele já soube em toda sua vida e, de vez em quando, a perspectiva simples dele também a impressionava.
Era uma vez uma princesa muito mais complexa do que o tolo poderia imaginar.
O tolo a questionou. Apesar de que a princesa falava apenas suas verdades, cada resposta o fazia hesitar. Ela exigiu que o tolo se movimentasse, mas ele conhecia apenas a estática. O tolo tentou manter o ritmo, reconhecendo que tamanha determinação não deixa brechas para qualquer meio-termo.
A princesa era muito mais apta que o tolo, e seus longos saltos o esgotaram. Contudo, era uma exaustão agradável, pois significava que eventualmente aprenderiam a caminhar juntos. Ela não precisava esconder sua audácia, pois havia cativado o tolo.
Era uma vez uma princesa delicada que o tolo adorava do fundo do seu coração.
O tolo e a princesa encontraram serenidade um no outro. Já não mais precisavam estar alerta e defensivos o tempo inteiro — nem conseguiriam, de tão melosos. Só lhes importavam declarações, mimos, sorrisos, carícias e beijos.
Apesar dos deleites do romance idílico, não se pode viver só de ternura. Incerta quanto aos seus desejos, a princesa desmoronou, e tornou-se alguém completamente diferente. O tolo, devastado, recordou-se de jurar amor eterno ao cerne imutável da princesa. Teria sido uma promessa imprudente?
Era uma vez uma princesa machucada que mantinha o tolo a uma distância segura.
Em se debater aterrorizado, o tolo feriu a princesa. Sua reação espontânea ao próprio desamparo foi insipiente, inapropriada, e mais que tudo, insensível. Nada disso ele percebeu, e jamais o teria feito, sem que a princesa o demonstrasse. De quanta ignorância ele era capaz?
A princesa tinha outras preocupações. O tolo não foi o único a lhe machucar. Ela estava coberta de lesões e atada contra sua vontade. O tolo poderia, e talvez devesse, abandoná-la. Ambos sabiam que a resiliência da princesa era superior à crise pela qual passava. Em vez disso, o tolo pediu à princesa uma última arrogância: que ele pudesse permanecer ao seu lado enquanto se recuperava.
A princesa ponderou, cautelosa e apreensiva. Ao fim das contas, permitiu-lhe. Teria sido imprudente?
...
Tecidas incontáveis realidades, a costura que uniu o tolo e a princesa parecia romper. Deveria ser esse o fim de sua história? Nunca mais ouviriam as vozes um do outro? Todo seu carinho se tornaria um sonho distante?
Talvez uma pessoa mais erudita saberia como viver com o coração partido. Saberia como se resguardar e precaver. Eu, entretanto, sou um tolo. Sou simplório, ingênuo e incessante. Desconheço a desistência.
Mil alvoradas e mil crepúsculos se passarão sem contemplar o mínimo alcance de minha paixão. Diga meu nome quando quiser e estarei ao seu lado sem pensar duas vezes. De todas as almas que já se entrelaçaram à minha, a sua é a que mais aprecio. Na infinita existência, faço de você meu lar. Por toda a eternidade, meu desejo inabalável é segurar sua mão na minha.
Com toda a essência do meu ser, eu brado ao universo que encontrarei meu amor de todo o sempre.
Brandon Boone – The Princess
——————————
Once upon a time, there was a princess and a fool.
The fool did as he was told, and was quickly outsmarted by the princess’ sharp wit. He persisted in his task and she foiled him each time. He thought he’d known everything about the world: his role, his goal, good and evil. His truth and his happiness.
This amused the princess, who made it obvious to even the fool that life was unfathomably larger than he thought. The two locked in an indomitable tango, every step filled with surprise and joy, every motion filled with insight and possibility. She taught the fool more than he ever knew before, and, occasionally, his simple perspective impressed her, too.
Once upon a time, there was a princess who was far more complex than the fool could have imagined.
The fool questioned her. Though she spoke nothing but her truth, every answer made him hesitant. She demanded that he move when all he knew was stillness. He attempted to keep pace, knowing that there was no compromise with this amount of determination.
The princess was far more adept than the fool, and her leaps and bounds exhausted him. This was a pleasant exertion, however, as the burn only meant that the two would eventually learn to stride as one. She had no need to disguise her bold nature, for the fool thought it endearing.
Once upon a time, there was a delicate princess who the fool adored with all his heart.
The fool and the princess had found respite in one another. No longer did they have to be alert and on guard at all times — they hardly could, flush with infatuation. All that mattered were honeyed giggles and sweet nothings.
Though idyllic romance was a treat to the both of them, one cannot live off tenderness alone. Unsure of her desires, the princess collapsed into herself, becoming someone far different. The fool, wracked with dismay, remembered his pledge to always love the unshakeable core of her being. Was this promise unwise?
Once upon a time, there was a wounded princess who kept the fool at arm’s length.
The fool’s panicked flailing had hurt the princess. His spontaneous reaction to the feeling of helplessness was unintelligent, inappropriate, and most of all, inconsiderate. He didn’t, and couldn’t, realize this until she spelled it out for him. Just how oblivious could he truly be?
The princess had other things to worry about. It hadn’t only been the fool who injured her. She was covered in gashes and bound against her will. The fool could, and maybe should, have left her behind. They both knew her resilience outmatched her predicament. Instead, he asked the princess to allow him one last arrogance: to remain by her side as she healed.
The princess pondered, cautious and apprehensive. In the end, she allowed him. Was this unwise?
…
Having woven myriad realities, the needle that pulled the princess and the fool together seemed to be running out of thread. Should this be the end of their story? To never hear each other’s voices again? To share caresses only in distant dreams?
A more erudite person might know how to live with heartbreak. How to store themself away for safekeeping. I, on the other hand, am but a fool. A ceaseless simpleton, a stranger to the very idea of giving up.
A thousand dawns and a thousand sunsets cannot encapsulate the smallest span of my passion. Call my name whenever you’d like and I’ll be by your side without a second thought. Of the innumerable souls that have intertwined with mine, I cherish yours the most. In infinite existence, I find my home in you. Throughout eternity, my unchanging desire is to hold your hand in mine.
From the very essence of my being, I shout to the universe that I will find my love, forever and always.
——————————
Era uma vez uma princesa e um tolo.
O tolo obedecia às ordens que recebera e foi rapidamente eludido pelo acúmen da princesa. Ele persistiu em sua tarefa e ela ludibriou todas as suas tentativas. Ele pensava saber tudo sobre o mundo: seu papel, seu propósito, o bem e o mal. Sua verdade e sua felicidade.
Com gracejo, a princesa tornou óbvio até para o tolo que a vida é incomensuravelmente maior do que ele imaginava. Os dois iniciaram um tango implacável, cada passo dotado de surpresa e alegria, cada movimento repleto de introspecção e possibilidade. Ela ensinou mais ao tolo do que ele já soube em toda sua vida e, de vez em quando, a perspectiva simples dele também a impressionava.
Era uma vez uma princesa muito mais complexa do que o tolo poderia imaginar.
O tolo a questionou. Apesar de que a princesa falava apenas suas verdades, cada resposta o fazia hesitar. Ela exigiu que o tolo se movimentasse, mas ele conhecia apenas a estática. O tolo tentou manter o ritmo, reconhecendo que tamanha determinação não deixa brechas para qualquer meio-termo.
A princesa era muito mais apta que o tolo, e seus longos saltos o esgotaram. Contudo, era uma exaustão agradável, pois significava que eventualmente aprenderiam a caminhar juntos. Ela não precisava esconder sua audácia, pois havia cativado o tolo.
Era uma vez uma princesa delicada que o tolo adorava do fundo do seu coração.
O tolo e a princesa encontraram serenidade um no outro. Já não mais precisavam estar alerta e defensivos o tempo inteiro — nem conseguiriam, de tão melosos. Só lhes importavam declarações, mimos, sorrisos, carícias e beijos.
Apesar dos deleites do romance idílico, não se pode viver só de ternura. Incerta quanto aos seus desejos, a princesa desmoronou, e tornou-se alguém completamente diferente. O tolo, devastado, recordou-se de jurar amor eterno ao cerne imutável da princesa. Teria sido uma promessa imprudente?
Era uma vez uma princesa machucada que mantinha o tolo a uma distância segura.
Em se debater aterrorizado, o tolo feriu a princesa. Sua reação espontânea ao próprio desamparo foi insipiente, inapropriada, e mais que tudo, insensível. Nada disso ele percebeu, e jamais o teria feito, sem que a princesa o demonstrasse. De quanta ignorância ele era capaz?
A princesa tinha outras preocupações. O tolo não foi o único a lhe machucar. Ela estava coberta de lesões e atada contra sua vontade. O tolo poderia, e talvez devesse, abandoná-la. Ambos sabiam que a resiliência da princesa era superior à crise pela qual passava. Em vez disso, o tolo pediu à princesa uma última arrogância: que ele pudesse permanecer ao seu lado enquanto se recuperava.
A princesa ponderou, cautelosa e apreensiva. Ao fim das contas, permitiu-lhe. Teria sido imprudente?
...
Tecidas incontáveis realidades, a costura que uniu o tolo e a princesa parecia romper. Deveria ser esse o fim de sua história? Nunca mais ouviriam as vozes um do outro? Todo seu carinho se tornaria um sonho distante?
Talvez uma pessoa mais erudita saberia como viver com o coração partido. Saberia como se resguardar e precaver. Eu, entretanto, sou um tolo. Sou simplório, ingênuo e incessante. Desconheço a desistência.
Mil alvoradas e mil crepúsculos se passarão sem contemplar o mínimo alcance de minha paixão. Diga meu nome quando quiser e estarei ao seu lado sem pensar duas vezes. De todas as almas que já se entrelaçaram à minha, a sua é a que mais aprecio. Na infinita existência, faço de você meu lar. Por toda a eternidade, meu desejo inabalável é segurar sua mão na minha.
Com toda a essência do meu ser, eu brado ao universo que encontrarei meu amor de todo o sempre.
Impossível gostar de algo quando ele demonstra tanta casualidade em desumanizar pessoas em situações vulneráveis. Entendo que, em jogos, normalizamos isso com violência: não temos o menor problema em triturar recursos humanos quando se trata de jogos de ação, mas fazer isso com o corpo e a autonomia de mulheres parece tão mais nefasto, e pessoal. Quando Big Boss sequestra soldados pra Mother Base, o tom do ato é de resgate, redenção, arrebatação - em Dohna Dohna é de exploração, nua e crua. O tom comédico que muitas vezes o jogo tenta instaurar nestas situações é intragável quando se trata de um ato como este. E embora a resenha aqui no site, que me convenceu a jogar o jogo, argumente que ele é como é para nos colocar na mentalidade de um monstro como esses, um Drakengard de prostíbulo, por se dizer, tenho opiniões bastante contrárias. Fora da bolha de usuários mais interessados em subtexto, vejo muito mais que a clientela trata com humor e até tesão esta instrumentalização do corpo da mulher; e enquanto procurava mais discussão sobre o jogo, me deparei com diversos comentários do leitor médio de VN reclamando mais de que foi outro cara que comeu a sua waifu do que o fato de que foi um estupro ordenado.
Por que vejo em Karryn’s Prison uma qualidade que aqui não consigo? Talvez porque Karryn faz tudo de sua própria vontade, visão deturpada dos desejos de uma personagem feito para o masculino que seja. Talvez porque nele a violência é minimizada, e tudo ao redor se leve nessa atmosfera hipersexual que faz alguns absurdos parecerem divertidos. Em Dohna Dohna não consegui entrar nessa mentalidade: para mim, o tom foi de horror. Sem comentários também para a presença maldita de conteúdo loli no jogo, que é uma verdadeira vergonha - ainda que majoritariamente opcional, considero indefensável.
Ainda que o gênero eroge pareça estar muito mais avançado do que o tabu que o permeia, é uma pena que jogos tão bem produzidos sejam usados apenas para atingir uma demográfica específica de homens com sérias deficiências em como enxergam relações sexuais. Não acho que uma arte bem desenhada acompanhada de algumas linhas duras sobre resistência e medo configuram bom discurso em relação ao tema de abuso - podem ser chocantes e eficientes no melhor caso, e no pior só servem de material fetichista. Após terminar o jogo, o comentário dos desenvolvedores me deixou claro que não há o menor interesse em diálogo: “desenhei com o pau na mão” - diz o ilustrador.
E levando por essa ótica, o que pensar de Dohna Dohna, o jogo? Não se trata de uma VN, e sim de um turn-based JRPG/management minigame com bastante conteúdo safe for work. O pesadelo de atrelar esse jogo à minha conta é o suficiente para que eu solte o resto dessa entrada sem tentar casar um ponto ao outro, o mais importante já tendo sido dito.
> Alguma coisa me manteve, e não acho que foi a expectativa de dois quadrinhos de hentai mediano a cada 1h de jogo. Seu loop, abstraído o grotesco, impele o jogador a continuar, ainda que num grind nada especial. Provavelmente quem me fez jogar até o final foi uma mistura da apresentação que está honestamente muito além de seu gênero, rivalizando mais um Persona em sua qualidade do que o próximo eroge de RPGMaker humilde: animações desenhadas à mão fazem seu sistema de combate voar: mecanicamente simples e elegante, em certas partes, mal pensado em outras; porém sempre atingindo todos os mandamentos do game juice bem produzido. Um loop de baixa fricção em um jogo bem produzido que consigo jogar cagando é a receita do sucesso para minha retenção.
> Em sua história e narrativa, é muito mais estilo e posturagem do que substância. Um elenco composto por personalidades enlatadas que acaba sendo mais icônico como elenco do que como um conjunto de individuais. Tenta criar um diálogo sobre os horrores de abuso enquanto ao mesmo tempo glorifica e dedica quantidade considerável de recursos pra criar cenas de abuso que só existem porque devem. O próprio argumento de porque a exploração sexual ocorre no jogo não vem de um lugar mais profundo do que: este jogo é um eroge e é isso que nós gostamos de ver.
Acho que com isso encerrei meu horny game arc com um gosto ruim na boca.
FIN?
Por que vejo em Karryn’s Prison uma qualidade que aqui não consigo? Talvez porque Karryn faz tudo de sua própria vontade, visão deturpada dos desejos de uma personagem feito para o masculino que seja. Talvez porque nele a violência é minimizada, e tudo ao redor se leve nessa atmosfera hipersexual que faz alguns absurdos parecerem divertidos. Em Dohna Dohna não consegui entrar nessa mentalidade: para mim, o tom foi de horror. Sem comentários também para a presença maldita de conteúdo loli no jogo, que é uma verdadeira vergonha - ainda que majoritariamente opcional, considero indefensável.
Ainda que o gênero eroge pareça estar muito mais avançado do que o tabu que o permeia, é uma pena que jogos tão bem produzidos sejam usados apenas para atingir uma demográfica específica de homens com sérias deficiências em como enxergam relações sexuais. Não acho que uma arte bem desenhada acompanhada de algumas linhas duras sobre resistência e medo configuram bom discurso em relação ao tema de abuso - podem ser chocantes e eficientes no melhor caso, e no pior só servem de material fetichista. Após terminar o jogo, o comentário dos desenvolvedores me deixou claro que não há o menor interesse em diálogo: “desenhei com o pau na mão” - diz o ilustrador.
E levando por essa ótica, o que pensar de Dohna Dohna, o jogo? Não se trata de uma VN, e sim de um turn-based JRPG/management minigame com bastante conteúdo safe for work. O pesadelo de atrelar esse jogo à minha conta é o suficiente para que eu solte o resto dessa entrada sem tentar casar um ponto ao outro, o mais importante já tendo sido dito.
> Alguma coisa me manteve, e não acho que foi a expectativa de dois quadrinhos de hentai mediano a cada 1h de jogo. Seu loop, abstraído o grotesco, impele o jogador a continuar, ainda que num grind nada especial. Provavelmente quem me fez jogar até o final foi uma mistura da apresentação que está honestamente muito além de seu gênero, rivalizando mais um Persona em sua qualidade do que o próximo eroge de RPGMaker humilde: animações desenhadas à mão fazem seu sistema de combate voar: mecanicamente simples e elegante, em certas partes, mal pensado em outras; porém sempre atingindo todos os mandamentos do game juice bem produzido. Um loop de baixa fricção em um jogo bem produzido que consigo jogar cagando é a receita do sucesso para minha retenção.
> Em sua história e narrativa, é muito mais estilo e posturagem do que substância. Um elenco composto por personalidades enlatadas que acaba sendo mais icônico como elenco do que como um conjunto de individuais. Tenta criar um diálogo sobre os horrores de abuso enquanto ao mesmo tempo glorifica e dedica quantidade considerável de recursos pra criar cenas de abuso que só existem porque devem. O próprio argumento de porque a exploração sexual ocorre no jogo não vem de um lugar mais profundo do que: este jogo é um eroge e é isso que nós gostamos de ver.
Acho que com isso encerrei meu horny game arc com um gosto ruim na boca.
FIN?
Hitman 2
2018
hitman revela com discreto e sofisticado humor segredos sobre a logística delicada entre as crucialidades responsáveis pela coreografia do acaso
há uma reação em cadeia a ser interrompida, o resultado uma vez iminente está cada vez mais te convidando a corrompê-lo
pra lá com o efeito borboleta, a moeda que cai no corredor atrás da lavanderia só pode derrubar um lustre no saguão se tiver alguém disposto a decorar o caminho mais rápido e discreto entre os dois e percorrê-lo em tempo cravado
o triunfo do livre arbítrio sobre o cosmos duro, frio e determinista acontece pelas mãos do faxineiro agachado atrás do balcão pronto pra enforcar o mordomo e tomar seu lugar
e sem regresso no tempo (só piedosos save points, se quiser uma experiência mais fria): pra fazer certo de primeira precisa estudar a Caligrafia em que o Evento foi Escrito pra poder reproduzir a caneta, selando essa dança numa partitura
há uma reação em cadeia a ser interrompida, o resultado uma vez iminente está cada vez mais te convidando a corrompê-lo
pra lá com o efeito borboleta, a moeda que cai no corredor atrás da lavanderia só pode derrubar um lustre no saguão se tiver alguém disposto a decorar o caminho mais rápido e discreto entre os dois e percorrê-lo em tempo cravado
o triunfo do livre arbítrio sobre o cosmos duro, frio e determinista acontece pelas mãos do faxineiro agachado atrás do balcão pronto pra enforcar o mordomo e tomar seu lugar
e sem regresso no tempo (só piedosos save points, se quiser uma experiência mais fria): pra fazer certo de primeira precisa estudar a Caligrafia em que o Evento foi Escrito pra poder reproduzir a caneta, selando essa dança numa partitura
Sonic Battle
2003
Talk about a wasted opportunity. A fighting game with Sonic characters is such easy money, but this ain't it.
First impressions were all over the place. The art is out-fucking-standing, this is SUCH a good look for the gang, but I swear I felt my ears bleeding a little bit with that Mode Select BGM. Whoever decided to use that guitar sample for multiple tracks in the game, you have a special place in hell set aside for you. The soundtrack as a whole is pretty weak, with a couple exceptions (Holy Summit is so good, no wonder they brought it back for Advance 3.)
The writing is cheeky and fun, and the story itself was entertaining enough but good lord the progression here is absolute dogshit. How do you like fighting the same character twice(or more!) in a row, with more rounds each time? How about selecting a random building just for shits and giggles since it's your first time playing, only to be assaulted by Emerl clones because you dared to explore a little bit?
The moment I realized I could win most battles by either spamming normal attacks or special R attacks, you bet your ass that turbo button was on and the frameskip was rolling. While the combat system is interesting on the surface, it's just not very satisfying. Even when customizing Emerl with new skills, every fight feels like a slapfest, with everyone waving those foam spaghetti things in the air.
Uh, what else... Oh, it looks really good. Sonic's GBA entries always had beautiful sprites, and Battle brought so many great animations to the whole cast. I also love the 3D environments, always cool to see that on the GBA, even though I wished it was a normal 2D fighting game instead.
That really just sums it up. I wish this was a regular ass 2D fighter on the PS2 or some shit. Instead, we have a weird arena fighter with some interesting ideas that ultimately aren't very satisfying. The story isn't good enough to warrant playing this all the way to completion, I feel. Cute character moments don't make up for all the "fight Gamma again for the millionth time" you have to sit through.
First impressions were all over the place. The art is out-fucking-standing, this is SUCH a good look for the gang, but I swear I felt my ears bleeding a little bit with that Mode Select BGM. Whoever decided to use that guitar sample for multiple tracks in the game, you have a special place in hell set aside for you. The soundtrack as a whole is pretty weak, with a couple exceptions (Holy Summit is so good, no wonder they brought it back for Advance 3.)
The writing is cheeky and fun, and the story itself was entertaining enough but good lord the progression here is absolute dogshit. How do you like fighting the same character twice(or more!) in a row, with more rounds each time? How about selecting a random building just for shits and giggles since it's your first time playing, only to be assaulted by Emerl clones because you dared to explore a little bit?
The moment I realized I could win most battles by either spamming normal attacks or special R attacks, you bet your ass that turbo button was on and the frameskip was rolling. While the combat system is interesting on the surface, it's just not very satisfying. Even when customizing Emerl with new skills, every fight feels like a slapfest, with everyone waving those foam spaghetti things in the air.
Uh, what else... Oh, it looks really good. Sonic's GBA entries always had beautiful sprites, and Battle brought so many great animations to the whole cast. I also love the 3D environments, always cool to see that on the GBA, even though I wished it was a normal 2D fighting game instead.
That really just sums it up. I wish this was a regular ass 2D fighter on the PS2 or some shit. Instead, we have a weird arena fighter with some interesting ideas that ultimately aren't very satisfying. The story isn't good enough to warrant playing this all the way to completion, I feel. Cute character moments don't make up for all the "fight Gamma again for the millionth time" you have to sit through.
Sonic Heroes
2003
Heroes was my first 3D Sonic, and I never played it again since then. Revisiting the series now, I was afraid that it wouldn't be as good as I remembered. Man, what a relief. It's better!
For starters, my console growing up was the PS2, and that version is fucked up. Going with the GameCube version now, the solid 60fps alone was enough to make me smile. But shit, there's so much more that I appreciate here now.
I LOVE the music. It immediately takes me back to my childhood bedroom, blasting through Ocean Palace at 2 o'clock after school. Character models are a bit too plastic-y but environments are super charming, especially the flat-ass skyboxes. Every "zone" is very distinct from one another, tons of visual variety all around.
Actually playing the game was great too, like slipping back into a comfy pair of socks. There was some occasional jank of course, like dropping momentum at the loop corners or falling off platforms with a Power character mid-combo, but let's not pretend like that's not the case for every 3D Sonic game up to this point and beyond lmao
Speaking of Power characters! The combat here is so one-note that, in a weird way, it kinda works? Blasting enemies away with Knuckles, Omega and Vector was great, I took every opportunity to stop and clear the room when I could.
And speaking of Vector! Team Chaotix is just Adventure 1's mission mode, which I GREATLY appreciate.
Also! The Special Stages! They don't ask you to pixel hunt around every single fucking corner for 10 Chao or SP Rings! Just hold on to the Special Key(which there are multiple of per-stage) until the end and you're golden. THIS is how you do it. The stages themselves are fine, great music, but god damn do you end up in the ceiling way more than you should.
The story is very simple, but that's always my favorite approach when it comes to Sonic. It plants some seeds for future events like the stuff that happens with Shadow, but it never made me roll my eyes as was the case with Adventure 2.
All that said, I never finished the game when I was little. I kept playing through Team Sonic and Team Shadow's routes ad nauseum, so needless to say I was really excited to finish the last story segment this time after listening to What I'm Made Of so many times. It was... Disappointing. In terms of gameplay, that is; the presentation for the final battle is raw as all hell, thanks in large part to the aforementioned theme. But man, only being able to damage Metal Sonic with a Team Blast? A Team Blast that interrupts AND SKIPS the background music, at that? Nah, this could've been much better. (Also, what's with Tails and Knuckles not getting anything special for their Super forms? Like, I get that Sonic is the one transforming, but come on... They're a team. Give Tails his flickies and Knuckles some ancient Echidna markings on his body, fucking ANYTHING but a glowing ball)
This was super fun. Few games are able to turn back the clock for me, but this one takes me back to simpler days very easily.
For starters, my console growing up was the PS2, and that version is fucked up. Going with the GameCube version now, the solid 60fps alone was enough to make me smile. But shit, there's so much more that I appreciate here now.
I LOVE the music. It immediately takes me back to my childhood bedroom, blasting through Ocean Palace at 2 o'clock after school. Character models are a bit too plastic-y but environments are super charming, especially the flat-ass skyboxes. Every "zone" is very distinct from one another, tons of visual variety all around.
Actually playing the game was great too, like slipping back into a comfy pair of socks. There was some occasional jank of course, like dropping momentum at the loop corners or falling off platforms with a Power character mid-combo, but let's not pretend like that's not the case for every 3D Sonic game up to this point and beyond lmao
Speaking of Power characters! The combat here is so one-note that, in a weird way, it kinda works? Blasting enemies away with Knuckles, Omega and Vector was great, I took every opportunity to stop and clear the room when I could.
And speaking of Vector! Team Chaotix is just Adventure 1's mission mode, which I GREATLY appreciate.
Also! The Special Stages! They don't ask you to pixel hunt around every single fucking corner for 10 Chao or SP Rings! Just hold on to the Special Key(which there are multiple of per-stage) until the end and you're golden. THIS is how you do it. The stages themselves are fine, great music, but god damn do you end up in the ceiling way more than you should.
The story is very simple, but that's always my favorite approach when it comes to Sonic. It plants some seeds for future events like the stuff that happens with Shadow, but it never made me roll my eyes as was the case with Adventure 2.
All that said, I never finished the game when I was little. I kept playing through Team Sonic and Team Shadow's routes ad nauseum, so needless to say I was really excited to finish the last story segment this time after listening to What I'm Made Of so many times. It was... Disappointing. In terms of gameplay, that is; the presentation for the final battle is raw as all hell, thanks in large part to the aforementioned theme. But man, only being able to damage Metal Sonic with a Team Blast? A Team Blast that interrupts AND SKIPS the background music, at that? Nah, this could've been much better. (Also, what's with Tails and Knuckles not getting anything special for their Super forms? Like, I get that Sonic is the one transforming, but come on... They're a team. Give Tails his flickies and Knuckles some ancient Echidna markings on his body, fucking ANYTHING but a glowing ball)
This was super fun. Few games are able to turn back the clock for me, but this one takes me back to simpler days very easily.
a canalização lua - farol - lanterna paralelizando câmera - memórias - cristalização ou mesmo a yakamoz nada mais ser que uma ilha transitória como são todas as pessoas do mundo e todas as fotos analógicas. jogo de símbolos e signos e vultos e notas com sustos que aparecem mais pelo desconhecido que pelo hostil e a memória te fazer lembrar do que ama também exporta sua dor em qualquer registro. lindo de morrer. a luz da lua é azul como a alma.
