That something is a little prototype for some basic third person character movement with camera control. You can play with it here (instructions on how to interact with it can be found on the same page).

This demo does not use the pre-made third person character controller that Unity has by default. Instead, I coded things myself in Unity’s flavour of Java using the character controller physics component for the character and box collider physics components for the floor and “obstacles”.

Overall, I’m satisfied with how this turned out. I may have hit a few roadblocks here and there, but things were easy enough to resolve for me than they had been with my previous experiments with making a similar custom third person setup in the Unreal Development Kit. I’m not putting down UDK; it’s an amazing tool. I just didn’t find it as intuitive as working with Unity for this project. Then again, I find that Unity is similar to Flash, so I may just be used to certain things.

Future upgrades to this would be — aside from actually incorporating it into a game — smoothing out some movements (like making the jump more of an arc instead of straight up and down), adding animations, and maybe some collision work for the camera itself.

So yeah, Unity’s quite a decent little game development tool. I recommend you try it out, especially if you have dabbled with Flash in the past. It’s free, after all.

The first spawn of this plan is the following:

My simple rig as seen from within Maya 2011.

This is a simple rig made in Maya 2011 (specifically the 64 bit version for Windows 7), and it is the first humanoid one I’ve made from scratch. For those not in the know, a “rig” in 3D animation terms is a functioning skeleton with geometry attached that can be controlled and moved around in digital space for the purpose of posing and animating. Without a rig, the geometry would be static, making animation most difficult.

The rig is nothing fancy. The only “special” parts are the IK/FK switches for the arms and legs (represented on the rig by the controllers that look like exclamation points) (for those in the dark, IK is inverse kinematics and FK is forward kinematics). It doesn’t even have independent hips or shoulders (we hadn’t been shown in-class how to do those yet), so you’d have to counter-animate the rest of the chain for the desired effect.

To test the rig, I put together a simple walk cycle, which you can see here:

Making this rig right from nothing was an interesting process. I learned how to avoid certain mistakes, and for the most part, I am proud of the result.

You can find more screens of the rig (and the video posted above also) in the portfolio section of the site.

Exciting!

But things aren’t that simple in the real world. “Moving on” from a decision, especially important ones, is no easy task. Yet our Commander Shepards and their ilk make huge decisions all the time, never once batting an eye. Sure, there may be a line of dialogue claiming to represent a feeling of guilt or something similar, but the moments are few and fleeting, and we are told of them after the fact; rarely do we actually feel them as they happen.

More troubling still is the lack of a character arc. Shepard’s decisions will always be from roughly the same mindset, and the events of the game will not really affect that reasoning. She is static, and not able to grow.

This makes for a boring character.

The problem stems from the very thing that makes video games unique: the literal insertion of the audience into the experience. The player makes Shepard’s decisions, and is, in essence, Shepard. As such, an arc would only be possible if the player herself experiences an arc that changes her thinking. Some may sidestep this fact by “manufacturing” an arc under the guise of role playing, but such a thing is a far cry from “sincere” breakthrough moments a character may make in other media.

A character arc can be a very powerful thing, and it reflects a basic and important fact of humanity — that throughout our lives, we change and grow — and yet our “empty shell” protagonists (which include the likes of Gordon Freeman and the Vault-Dweller) are exempt from it. More frustrating still is the fact that the player can help with the arcs of other characters. Mordin can change his ideas on the Genophage with Shepard’s help. Tali can learn something about her father with Shepard’s help. Yet Shepard’s train of thought does not waver because the player will not waver.

Allowing the audience to be an active participant is the most valuable thing our media is capable of, but it comes with risks. The more our protagonists are empty vessels to be filled, the less they can be changed by the world they inhabit. I’m not proposing a solution as I do not see one as of yet, but it is something we must put thought into if we want our stories in video games to increase in quality.

(This post can also be found here on Gamasutra as part of my free Member Blog.)

Her questions will be prefixed by a “Q” and my answers with an “A”. In regards to some of the terminology used below: she knows I “read a variety of visually-based reading material (comics, web comics, graphic novels, etc.), and that they’re all different (which I will ask about), but for the purposes of most questions, I’ll just be referring to them as comics. When I refer to “text-based reading material” I’m just referring to text without images.”

I hope you will find it interesting.

~~~

Q: When did you begin reading comics and what initially drew you to them as a reading format?

A: I had always read the colour comic strips in the weekend editions of the newspaper since I was basically old enough to read (although that habit has now faded away), but I didn’t start reading webcomics or — to a lesser extent — print comics/graphic novels until I was in high school (around Grade 9 or 10). I can imagine that the colourful pictures themselves drew me to the newspaper comic strips when I was small, but in terms of webcomics or print comics, it was the subject matter. Not to say that the art didn’t catch my eye, but these comics were talking about things I hadn’t seen comics talk about until then (which reflects my youth, rather than the subject matter of comics themselves). The print comics and graphic novels I first read (some Wolverine pieces and Watchmen, for example) were dealing with adult subject matter and language. The webcomics I started with (like Dinosaur Comics and Questionable Content) were even more different in that they weren’t usually about superheroes or anything like that. The subject matter really varied from webcomic to webcomic, from nerd humour to fantasy to relationships to slice-of-life, and that variety caught my attention. The format of the comics themselves could also be wildly different too; Dinosaur Comics, for example, uses the same art in its 6 panels for every comic, and it’s only the words that change.

Q: You read a variety of different comic formats. Can you comment on their similarities and differences?

A: The comic formats I’m familiar with are webcomics, newspaper comic strips, and print comics/graphic novels. I’m most familiar with webcomics, however.

The biggest similarity between them all is the use of static images to tell a story (although some webcomics, like MS Paint Adventures, are flexible with the “static” part and use animations from time to time). That may sound obvious, but there is a common visual language that is shared amongst comics. Pacing, page layout, drawing the eye, character design, etc are all important tools that don’t vary too much from format to format. If anything, they vary more from artist to artist in terms of implementation. A great place to read about these tools is Indistinguishable From Magic, the Tumblr of Aaron Diaz, creator of the webcomic Dresden Codak. That being said, webcomics, being on the Internet and all, technically don’t have to strictly adhere to things like page layout since a page on a site can literally be any size or shape one wants, but they tend to stay relatively traditional as “pages” so that they can be easily made into print format for later.

Webcomics and newspaper comic strips generally have more in common with each other than with print comics/graphic novels. This is most evident in their release schedules; webcomics and newspaper comics usually update multiple times in one week if not daily while print comics/graphic novels can be months apart. This is because in a webcomic or newspaper comic that has a story and is not just a gag-a-day strip, you are reading as the story progresses/is created, one page or strip at a time. In a print comic/graphic novel, the entire story (at least for that specific volume) is available from the outset, and as such can be read cover to cover like a book.

All three generally vary from one another in terms of subject matter. Print comics/graphic novels are, from my perspective, the most “limited” in that the market is largely dominated by superheroes. Newspaper comics are less limited, but tend to focus on slice-of-life and the older established comics (like Garfield, Peanuts, For Better or For Worse, etc). Webcomics are the most diverse out of the three, and that owes itself more to the nature of the Internet than anything; there are no publishers or the like that one must create for as the comic can go right from the artist to the audience. The art styles of the formats reflects this subject matter; everyone knows the “superhero look” of print comics/graphic novels while newspaper comics and webcomics tend to vary greatly in terms of art from artist to artist.

The biggest difference between the three is the business side of things. Print comics/graphic novels are made by paid artists for publishers and are sold to the audience from retailers. Newspaper comics are “free” with the newspapers, and the artist gets their money from the newspaper. Webcomics are, usually, 100% free in terms of the content itself. You can read the entire archive of a webcomic and all its updates for free. They generally get money through merchandise, which can include things like branded clothing or plushies, but also high-quality print versions of the webcomic itself (strips 1 to 100, or past chapters, for example). Due to this different pay-structure, however, (and the fact that anyone can make a webcomic on the Internet) not a lot of webcomics artists can make a living off making webcomics in comparison to the artists who work in print comics/graphic novels or newspapers.

Q: Do you find that reading comics enhances your approach to and understanding of text-based reading material? Does it detract? Or do you find little or no effect or interaction between the two?

A: I don’t really think that one affects the other too much. They are quite different, especially because a comic can theoretically have no text at all and still tell a story while text-based reading materials rely entirely on text.

Q: How does reading comics effect the way you mentally visualize what you read in text-based reading material, fiction or non-fiction?

A: Reading comics has effected the way I visualize scenes and characters, but I’m not sure whether or not it is really distinct from the way other visual media (like film or animation) has effected me as well. Regardless, thanks to these visual media I can better see the movements of characters in my mind’s eye, especially their facial expressions, and the mental image of a scene can better reflect the mood of a scene (for example, a desolate scene as described in text will most likely appear in my mind’s eye as a “wide shot”, the characters small in comparison to the vast emptiness).

Q: You are enrolled in a post-secondary program that is largely visually-based (video game design). Does reading comics influence the way you approach your creative process in a different way than text-based reading does?

A: It definitely influences my process differently than text-based reading due to the similarity of it. The look and feel of a part of a game (whether it is a character or a scene) can certainly be described via text, but it will be constructed with visual elements in mind as that’s how it will appear in the end product. For example, the visual shape of an object will say more about it than the text that may accompany it. That’s not to say that text isn’t important, but the process is definitely closer to comic creation than pure writing.

Q: Where and when are you most likely to read comics, in comparison to where and when you read text-based material? Is there a difference in mental focus required between the two?

A: Since webcomics are, by their very nature, web-based, I basically read them anywhere I have a computer and an Internet connection. That’s not to say that I read them all the time, but I will definitely read some now and again throughout the day if I am at a computer, and I usually am. Checking my RSS feeds for such things is a common habit. Online text-based readings (like blogs or articles) are read in the same fashion.

Physical materials, comic or text-based, however, are read much less often. This is due to both the inconvenience (in comparison to reading off the web), and the mental focus. Web-based materials are designed to be consumed in chunks while physical materials are usually longer affairs, requiring full attention.

Regardless of web-based or physical, though, text-based reading requires more mental focus than comic reading; I can read an image faster than I can read a paragraph describing said image. Despite this, I would say that I read more text-based materials than comics, and more often as well.

Q: When you read comics, are you consciously aware of the difference in format in relation to text-based reading material?

A: I would say that I am consciously aware. I can actually examine the images in a comic and scan a scene for points of interest. In text-based material, I am told of the scene line by line, and I construct it in my mind. In text-based material, I can’t see what it doesn’t tell me, but in a comic, there may be things in the image there that are not expressly brought to reader’s attention.

Q: Do you prefer comics over text-based reading, or vice versa? Why?

A: I don’t think I can say I prefer one over the other as I see them as different entities with their own strengths. In text-based reading, it is much easier to get into a character’s or author’s mind and thought process. Conversely, in a comic, it is easier to get a sense of the world and the things that inhabit it.

~~~

Hope that wasn’t too boring.

~~~

Iris

She opened her green eyes and awoke to a purple sky. Waves lapped at a shore outside of her vision. Gull cries punctuated the stillness. But she could remember nothing.

That isn’t to say she didn’t know herself. What eluded her was how she came to be here, wherever “here” was.

She sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The beach spread out far in both directions, and a sparse wilderness was at her back. All appeared empty. But it wasn’t long before she could make out a structure on the shoreline in the distance.

She stood and began to walk toward it.

An uneventful hour passed before she arrived at the base of the spire. It rose a few stories above her, and it was the tallest thing she had encountered here aside from herself.

Hewn into the side facing her was a large doorway consisting of two solid slabs. The sight of them gave her pause. She could not explain her hesitancy. Minutes passed, but she was able to steel herself and approach them.

A single step was all it took for the doors to spring to life. They slid apart to reveal a small figure, hunched and ancient. The being raised its head up at her, and brought its eyes to hers. A smile crept upon its lips, and it spoke.

“It appears we have a visitor.”

This instance is not an outlier in the grand sphere of games. Many are the times in which we are tasked to do similar actions over and over again. This can manifest as the dreaded level grind in an RPG to having to slay an annoying enemy in one’s path for the 100th time. Again and again we are subject to repetition, and to me, it seems quite needless in most cases.

I must first qualify that repetition is not inherently bad. A game like Tetris, for example, has repetition as a key gameplay component as one’s goal is to see how far they can get/how many points they can rack up. In the case of games like this — games that have no real narratives — repetition can be fine. My issue is with games where narrative is important. And even then, repetition can sometimes be a good thing. To again use Red Dead Redemption as an example, John Marston is led astray time and time again by people who claim that they will help him find his bounty, and having the player experience this firsthand better communicates Marston’s frustrations than if we were merely told of it. My issue, then, is with seemingly needless repetition in narrative-focused games — the apparent repetition for repetition’s sake.

In a good book, every word has been chosen carefully. In a good film, every shot is meticulously planned out. In these cases, nothing is intended to be filler. Yet when it comes to games we plan for filler all the time. Throw a few more enemies here, collect an arbitrary number of things, kill this enemy so many times for the chance of a drop, make this mission essentially like the last, etc. It is a common complaint in the industry that games are too long in general or not substantive enough, and yet we pad them with this material. Why can’t we approach our games with stories with the same level of care we would approach other vehicles of story? Why can’t we take the time and resources dedicated to these repetitive tasks and instead focus them on better ways to tell story via gameplay?

In the end, I suppose it is about what we want to communicate to the player. What does the repetition communicate/accomplish? If there isn’t really a good answer for that question, then I think something must be re-evaluated. In any case where we are telling a story, we should aim for quality, not quantity. The player’s time is a valuable thing, and we must be careful not to squander it.

(This post can also be found here on Gamasutra as part of my free Member Blog.)

So with that, let me introduce my first Experiment in Fiction: A short piece entitled How It Ends, inspired by the DeVotchKa song of the same name.

~~~

How It Ends

The world, for a brief period, was silent. The object was finally visible to the naked eye, a flaming ball of matter headed right for the planet. It lit up the sky, and could not be ignored. They knew this was coming. They had known for some time.

The initial discovery was a shock to the world, but there was hope. Hope that the end could be averted. There were theories. Strategies. Plans. But as time went on, the list of possibilities shrank. Little by little. Bit by bit. It wasn’t long before the truth was realized. The planet could not be saved. The best and only hope was to abandon ship. To leave home.

And thus the mad dash began. Nations built massive ships. The original plan was to take as many as they could. But time was not in their favour, and the people grew impatient. Chaos broke out. Some battles were fought between nations, but most were rogue groups, fighting to ensure their place on ships. In the beginning they were merely a nuisance to the military, but as doom loomed ever closer, their threat grew ever larger. Even in the final days they fought tooth and nail.

And this was the final day. The rock would hit within 24 hours. The people already in the ships could do naught but stare at the end of the world, hurtling ever closer. The ships were still grounded, and would remain so until final confirmation was given. If the ships left of their own accord, there could be problems in flight, possible crashes. That was unacceptable.

But those who would be left behind knew this as well. And so they stormed the control towers and operation bases. Those in the ships were sealed off and ignorant. But there were those who would defend the ships. They sacrificed their chances of leaving to make sure others would have the chance. The final battles were brutal and ugly. But in the end, the invaders would be quelled, and the mortally wounded defenders would be the ones to send the ships off. Codes were entered and engines were ignited. In a massive roar and planet-wide quake, the mighty ships took off in near unison, all travelling outward and away from the ill-fated world. The plan was to travel together, but at this point getting away was more important.

As the ships broke the bonds of gravity, their occupants would look back and become witness to the end. The flaming mass had, in some places, splintered into smaller fragments, but each was enough to cause the end alone. They fell forever downward, and just before midnight, would make first contact. Bursts of light and energy dotted the entire sphere, and the world was torn asunder.

Some on the ships would cry. Some would laugh. But most were silent, resolute. They knew they were witnessing the end of everything they ever knew. Nothing would be the same. Their life, now, was amongst the stars. They had become cosmic nomads.

Despite what some heavy opponents of cutscenes may say, there are certainly situations where a cutscene is the best course of action in terms of storytelling. These situations are where interactivity in itself would actually ruin the moment. I will explain via examples from Metal Gear Solid 2, Final Fantasy VII, and Assassin’s Creed 2. (Spoilers definitely lie ahead; you have been warned.)

The first example I wish to use is the scene in Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty in which Emma Emmerich dies. This takes place in the latter portions of the game.

The player, Raiden, was escorting computer programmer Emma to a computer room in the game’s environment — an oil cleanup facility known as the Big Shell — so that she could upload a virus of hers to interfere with the plans of terrorists who had overtaken Arsenal Gear — a top-secret and immense battleship that was being covered up by the Big Shell. Along the way, she is stabbed by a boss character and is mortally wounded. Raiden witnesses this, but due to the nature of the scene, is too far away to help. His ally, Solid Snake, takes Emma the rest of the way to the computer room instead. Raiden soon makes his way there, and witnesses Hal “Otacon” Emmerich — Emma’s estranged step-brother and a close personal ally to Snake — cradling the dying Emma in his arms. Snake tells Raiden that her wounds are too deep, but she’s still managed to set everything up for the virus. Raiden, who had been carrying the actual disc containing said virus, begins the upload. It is soon realized that there’s been sabotage afoot; the virus stops at 90%. Unable to fully realize their next course of action, all they can do is watch as Otacon has his final moments with his sister. It isn’t long before “E.E.” — Otacon’s childhood nickname for her — passes away. Otacon then has a few monologues in relation to her passing and takes her pet parrot — who was in a cage nearby — before things move on.

Video of the scene in question (it is in 2 parts) (I warn that my above synopsis doesn’t cover everything, so some confusion with plot events is to be expected):

(Source)

(Source)

Now I have to admit up front that I am a huge admirer of Metal Gear Solid 2, so I am somewhat biased toward it, but I realize that the acting/writing/direction may seem poor to some. The game definitely has a multitude of problems. I think that this scene, however, illustrates quite well the fact that player interactivity would have detracted from the experience. The player in MGS2 is Raiden, but this scene is not expressly about him. Rather, it is primarily about his allies, and due to the circumstances, there is nothing that can be done presently. Even if the player was allowed the freedom of movement, there would be no place to go, and as such, no point to it. Additionally, any dialogue choices would be of poor taste; Emma is in her dying breaths. In a situation like this — where it is not really the player character’s place to interfere — I think a cutscene is the best option.

My next example is similar to the above: Aeris’s death in Final Fantasy VII.

Due to the infamy of the scene, I do not feel the need to summarize (especially since I haven’t actually played FFVII up to that point), but I will provide video of it:

(Source)

Unlike the above example, the player’s character is directly attached to the events at hand; Cloud is the most wracked by Aeris’s murder at the hands of Sephiroth. He is the one who cradles her body in his arms before letting her drift away in the water. And yet again I feel that interaction at this point would be detrimental. Even if the player was allowed to choose from a selection of parting words, I think it would make the scenario feel cheaper. This isn’t a game where the player character is a blank slate; by this point, we know Cloud. At such a scene, he wouldn’t react in a way unbecoming of him. In a situation like this — where there really is only one outcome — I think a cutscene is again the best option.

My final example is actually a counter-example of sorts. It is a scene in Assassin’s Creed 2 where, instead of a full-fledged cutscene, there is an element of interaction, and I think the scene greatly suffers for it. The scene in question is when the player, Ezio Auditore di Firenze, talks to his friend Leonardo da Vinci and finally learns what his sworn enemy, Rodrigo Borgia, has been truly after all along: a powerful artifact known as a Piece of Eden. The attainment of this artifact is the reason why Rodrigo had commited atrocities — including the murder of Ezio’s father and brothers — and Ezio now has even more reason to stop him.

A video of the scene (I start at 2:30 and include a small cutscene just before the scene in question for the sake of context. The scene itself ends at 5:28):

(Source)

In the scene, the conversation’s audio is handled by the game, but the player has the freedom to walk around with Leonardo. As such, the player must actively maneuver through the crowds and is limited to the walking animations. This becomes especially troublesome when the realization stirs emotions in Ezio; the acting swells as you would expect it to in this situation, but the player’s body is only capable of walking, and thus lessens the impact of Ezio’s words. If the scene was entirely non-interactive, the character could have been animated in accordance to the voice acting, and thus deliver a more emotionally engaging moment. What could have been a memorable scene is instead a dull bout of exposition due to the interactivity. In a situation like this — where it is a scene of pure dialogue and the game itself is not about interacting with said dialogue — I once again think a cutscene would have been the best option.

So to conclude my long rant, while I agree with many that quite a few cutscenes in story-heavy linear games should be replaced with meaningful gameplay, I also think that not all cutscenes should be stricken from existence. As shown above, there are cases where player interaction is actually at odds with the quality of the scene itself. What would be gained by allowing player control in these situations? Like in life, there are some times where you just have to be on the sidelines due to the circumstances. I think that’s a lesson that some gamers tend to forget.

(This post can also be found here on Gamasutra as part of my free Member Blog.)

But you shouldn’t ignore this space, no! This is where I will be hosting my blog from now on. This means that the previous freely hosted versions on Blogger, LiveJournal, and WordPress will no longer be updated. They’ll still exist so that those who stumble upon them will know to come here, but this is now the primary and only location for new posts. My old posts are hosted here as well, so feel free to go through the archives.

Ah, a new beginning, a new challenge! This is exciting. Let us hope that this excitement gets me to post more.

Until next time!

Low quality resized screenshot of the game. Read the post to find out where to play it! There’s also a video embedded below!

When I posted previously about my first game, Capture the Frog, I mentioned that one of my school assignments was to make another game, and as such, I’d be revealing it around April-ish as that’s when my school year ended. Well it’s May now, so I’m a bit late with this, but here is my second game: Dodge & Shoot. It can be played here on Kongregate or here on Newgrounds. *EDIT* It now can also be played on this very website! You can find it here! *END EDIT*

Dodge & Shoot is a simple side-scrolling 2D space shooter in which you control a ship that dodges and shoots enemies until the time runs out. The assignment itself that this was made for had us students choose between making a 2D space shooter, an escape the room game, or a flip and match card game. Alongside making Dodge & Shoot, I actually also made a simple flip and match game. While the game itself is functional, it still only uses placeholder assets, and as such, I’m not going to post it yet. Maybe one of these days I’ll polish it up and put it online.

Now, I realize Dodge & Shoot is pretty crappy. The visual assets are pretty bad, there’s no music (unless you can consider the game over or game winning “chimes” to be music), there’s only one level, and you can only fire once before you have to wait for a meter to fill up so you can fire again. Most of those things can be chalked up to trying to get this done alongside my other school work, but the firing once mechanic is my bad. In early versions of the game, you could fire as much as you wanted, but I found that it made things way too easy. Rather than trying to balance things by making it so that enemies need more than one hit to go down, I decided to limit the amount the player could shoot. This also went hand in hand with the fact that I learned how to make a little charge meter, and I shoehorned it into the game (I knew how to make loading bars in the past for preloaders, though, so this was really a repurposing of old knowledge). While I think this results in an interesting case of the game being more about dodging than shooting, I realize it is not necessarily that much fun. I’ve learned the error of my ways. If I end up doing another shooter, I’ll remember not to force arbitrary limits on the player unless it seems truly necessary.

Two games are now under my belt. Both are nothing special, but they are steps toward the future. I’ve learned new things by working on both, and I will apply that knowledge to future endeavours. Wish me luck.

Here’s a gameplay video if you wanna look before you touch:

(Direct YouTube link)

(Sidenote: I also made a gameplay video for Capture the Frog. You can find it here or also embedded in the blog post about Capture the Frog.)