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SPACE INVADER, GAME CREATRIX, PIXELBITCH, AND DOT-MATRIX DOMINATRIX

gaming in libraries: the course

gaming in libraries: the course

i’ve mentioned scott nicholson before in relation to his video series, board games with scott; he’s also a professor of library science at syracuse university and runs their library game lab. recently, scott got funding to conduct an online course on running game events at libraries as a series of youtube videos (connected to discussion forums). the course has ended, but since all of the course content is on youtube, all of scott’s (and guests’) lectures remain available for viewing.

you might find the material redundant if you’re already knowledgable of games, or irrelevant if you’re not a librarian. i think the course is worth exploring, though, for two reasons:

the first is that scott presents a framework for understanding and thinking about games that encompasses all kinds - digital games, board games, “alternate reality” games, role-playing games. too often those of us who are involved in videogames fall into the trap of thinking about videogames as something completely seperate from the larger body of games and game experiences. (this is the fallacy of thinking about digital games as media rather than as experiences.)

and the second is that the course is interested in games as social experiences. librarians want to establish libraries as centers of community, and scott sees games as being potentially central to the creation of those communities. games are always considered in light of what kinds of experience they create for the people who are playing them and what kind of interactions between the players, the players and the community, and the players and the library they can facilitate.

i found sessions nine to fifteen, where professor bear presents a conceptual framework for understanding the experiences games create and then discusses five archetypes of experiences that accompany different games, the most valuable. i’m interested in games in social spaces, and this might be a good introduction to thinking about that subject.

level design lesson: in the pyramid

from super mario land, world 1-3

last month i met with charles pratt of game design advance to record a conversation that should hopefully be available for to insterested eavesdroppers sometime soon. one of the subjects we discussed is the stupifying lack of discussion, decades after people started piecing together digital games, on the art and craft of level design. a week ago, playing through satoru okada’s super mario land for the gameboy, i realized i could probably teach level design just using scenes from that game.

here’s one. this area (click here for a bigger image) appears halfway through super mario land’s stage 1-3, the third stage of the game[1]. numbers in brackets indicate footnotes, by the way.

crucial to this example are two rules of super mario land that a player who approached the game in 1989 after having played the original super mario bros. would have immediately understood.

the first is that mario has two states[2]: “little” mario and “big” mario, the former of which can transform into the latter by finding a magic mushroom. little mario is as tall as a single game block; big mario is as tall as two, making him slightly more susceptible to danger: if big mario comes into contact with an enemy, he’ll revert to little mario. unlike little mario, big mario has the ability to break certain blocks (the light gray, rounded ones in the above picture) by jumping at them from below.

the other relevant rule is that the screen only scrolls to the right. while mario can move freely towards the right, where his goal is, he’s only allowed to retrace his steps as far as the player can see: the left edge of the screen acts as an immovable wall that follows mario through each stage.

halfway through world 1-3, the first “indoor” stage of the game, the player is given a choice. the path rightwards splits into three routes - up, middle and down - though the choice is in fact between only two of them: either of mario’s states makes one of the routes inaccessible. the upper route is blocked by bricks that only big mario can break by hitting them from below. the lower route’s entrance is only one block tall - little mario alone is short enough to enter.

this is interesting because little mario is, most of the time, an undesirable state to be in. little mario can’t break blocks, is only one hit away from death, and must find two power-ups to be able to wield the “superball” weapon[3]. here, mario is given access to a special place as a kind of compensation for this otherwise weaker state - and the bottom route is in fact the most lucrative of the three.

but note that it’s not obvious to a first time player that the bottom route has the best outcome, because at the moment of the player’s choice the screen hasn’t scrolled far enough to the right to reveal the horde of coins. because the entire height of the stage fits the height of the screen, though, a player on the upper route will see the treasure she’s missed. this helps to mitigate the frustration of losing a life against the tough enemies to come: starting over halfway through the stage - and mario returns as little mario, regardless of what state he died in - means an opportunity to nab the coins i saw earlier.

also note that there are no enemies right before the junction: you don’t get to choose which state mario’s in when the path splits. there’s a single enemy on the upper route, behind the bricks, so an experienced player - or clumsy one - can smash her way up to the top, be shrunken to little mario by the enemy, and then double back to the lower route. there’s just enough room between the edge of the screen and the entrance if the player knows what she’s doing.

let’s talk about the way the treasure room is put together. that ? block contains a magic mushroom: in addition to snagging up to thirty-eight coins, the little mario who enters the chamber will exit as big mario. the player must become big mario to leave: those two grey breakable bricks, floor to a mario above but smashable to a mario below, serve as a one-way passage, letting mario out but not in.

so what’s that tiny pit on the right for? it’s for mario if he misses the mushroom. only big mario can leave this chamber - can’t go back left! - and if little mario were to miss the mushroom, he’d be stuck with no escape but to wait for the time limit to tick down and kill him. or to jump in the pit; note that the entrance is only one block tall.

it’s incredibly unlikely that the player should miss the mushroom, of course. see that little block sticking up out of the floor on the left? that block serves two purposes. when the mushroom pops out of the ? block and flies through the air, it’ll hit the wall and turn around; when it reaches the floor, it’ll start moving to the left. that little block knocks it back toward the right, both preventing it from disappearing off the left edge of the screen (a wall to mario, but not to the mushroom) and making its journey to the pit longer, giving the player more time to nab it.

so why have a pit at all? why not just have the mushroom bounce back and forth between two walls until the player catches it? because it’s sloppy. because the threat of potentially losing that mushroom - even if it’s unlikely - makes it far more valuable. because challenge and momentum are both big parts of super mario land, and a time-sensitive situation reminds the player of this.

on the subject of challenge, three of the ceiling bricks above the treasure room fall when mario gets near, potentially hurting him. because they fall the entire height of the screen, they’re a hazard to mario regardless of whether he’s in the treasure chamber or above it. but since they fall from the top of the screen, a mario above the chamber is naturally in greater danger of being hit than one inside the chamber. a mario above, however, is also more likely to be a big mario, while a mario below is definitely a little mario.

the treasure chamber mitigates the frustration of death in a boss level by giving the player a chance to visit a different route (and remember, those are thirty-eight of the hundred coins required for an extra life); it prepares the player for the boss by leading her towards a room that ensures mario’s in his big state; it gives a meaningful play context to the difference in size between mario’s states that is so central to the game and its protagonist. what other purpose does it serve?

it’s a pyramid! this stage is intended to remind the player of an egyptian tomb - you can see pixel hieroglyphs on the walls and big stone bricks[4]. what better way to evoke the idea of a pyramid than by letting the player enter one in the stage itself - one that’s full of treasure and has a secret entrance, no less. you can see that the hollow treasure pyramid is almost immediately prefigured by a solid block pyramid, too; pyramids like these appear throughout the birabuto kingdom, the game’s first three stages. a pyramid the player can enter, then, is the culmination of a recurring level design motif.

all the goals that this “setpiece” accomplishes - and good level design often accomplishes several things simultaneously - it does so using a handful of basic building blocks that are already known to the player: solid blocks, breakable blocks, and ? blocks. concise design doesn’t introduce new game elements needlessly: an element that the player’s already encountered already has meaning to her, and she understands its implications.

this is good level design.

[1] the game’s first world, the birabuto kingdom, most closely resembles the structure of the original super mario bros.’s worlds - a ground stage, a treetop stage, and a castle stage, culminating in a fight with a villain over a pool of fire - to present something familiar to super mario bros. players before the greater digressions of the later stages.

[2] technically three (not counting mario’s submarine and airplane), but superball-throwing mario behaves the same as “big” mario for the purposes of this example.

[3] not just a weapon: mario land’s superball, unlike super mario bros.’s fireball, has the additional ability to collect coins it touches, extending mario’s reach much as the magic mushroom does.

[4] not visible in the image are the stage boss and its minions. they’re sphinxes.

queens

queens

queens was created for a mini ludum dare (two-day game creation) competition organized by stephen lavelle. increpare’s theme: domestic violence.

in most difficult contemporary jumping games, it’s taken for granted that the player will die and try again many times, most likely taking many incarnations to reach the end of the game. in queens, these lives are characters and the repeating cycle of their deaths and replacement is the narrative, suggesting the expendability of women (who are neither faceless nor nameless) to a henry viii-style patriarch.

though i think i’m obligated to name terry cavanagh’s the best years of my life as my favorite in the competition because it’s a game for two players on the same keyboard. the players’ roles are equal at the outset of the game but become increasingly asymmetrical as the game goes on. in terry’s game, the controls represent control, and how it shifts in an abusive relationship.

for more queens, play amon26’s drag copter.

piquin

piquin

piquin, in 2003, must have been my first stand-alone game that wasn’t a modified example game. i wrote it in blitz basic. it came back to my attention in the wake of the home of the underdogs disappearing and being rebuilt. someone found the game’s entry in the new database and emailed me: the file itself had been lost. i managed to dig up a copy from the computer i built the game on, and here it is, six years later, for download and play. windows only, naturally.

(there’s a truetype font packaged with the game. dump it in your font folder before you play!)

i branded the game, in 2003, “a thinky kind of pac-man game.” what that means is that it’s a turn-based pac-man. like my more recent maze chase game, this little piggy, the player can only change direction at the junctions between hallways. (fat yellow arrows indicate which directions will take you where.) “piquin,” the game’s protagonist, follows the hall to the next junction, gobbling any dots in the way.

the ghosts move next. each ghost’s single eye indicates where it will move. if it’s blocked (most often by another ghost), it’ll turn clockwise and try again next turn. the ghosts move in a particular order (red green blue pink), and this is often important to anticipating how ghosts will (or won’t) move. ghost pathfinding isn’t very good, which is probably to the player’s and game’s mutual benefit.

each maze has four powerpills, one in each corner, and the way they work is this: eating a powerpill gives you two free turns of movement while the ghosts are frozen and vulnerable. chomping a ghost earns another two turns, so you can lure ghosts towards you and then gobble them up in one chain of moves. every two hundred points an exotic space-fruit appears in the center of the map for six turns.

piquin has four levels: clear all the dots to move to the next map. it’s probably easily solvable, given the predictable behavior of the ghosts, but since pac-man itself has been solved i don’t mind too much. six years later, i find it really hard, and am a bit impressed with younger me. there is a level-select feature in the game: at the title screen, just press the number of the level you want to start at - 1, 2, 3 or 4.

play a game by a budding pixelante in her protean years! history comes alive.

octofont

octofont

the scrolling message bar in octopounce was intended to convey information about the rules and state of the game without interrupting the play. the message bar needed to have a dynamic typeface; the font i ended up making is the cartooniest fontĀ  i’ve drawn to date. i tried to make every character feel round: i’m normally stingy with roundness in pixel fonts because round corners in montone, static images are really noticably blocky. but i decided it added to the charm.

there are a few special characters: a handful of script letters, based off saelee oh’s signature, so her name could appear on the message scroll in an approximation of her own handwriting. and there are fish, to accompany victory messages of players who catch fish.

you can see some screenshots of the game and its message scroll in my portfolio.

how to raise a dragon

how to raise a dragon

gregory weir typically takes established game tropes and uses them to his own narrative ends; in this case, it’s those of jumping games, and how they manage spatial navigation and the learning and using of player abilities to move through the game. like i fell in love with the majesty of colors, how to raise a dragon is essentially a web of choices. though the game makes those choices as overt as possible, the game never fails to respond as the player might expect.

bibleshock

bibleshock

klik of the month!

i was inspired again this month, and created a game of difficult and slippery moral choices and their consequences. and increpare created almost the exact same game.

what else? can you jump it? is everything that you love about videogames and klik ‘n’ duro is everything about videogames that hates you.

way up there

way up there

pixel sundays! how do i get up there?

cat gets 100 stars

cat gets 100 stars

it’s good to see yoshio ishii return to his roots, and by that i mean games starring cats.

cat gets 100 stars is a simple, playful game that suggests that the reason super mario bros. (the game that introduced the star as a goal item into videogame iconography) and jumping games like it are so compelling is because their otherwise-small worlds are rich with secrets, many of which you’ll stumble upon by accident just by moving through the world.

the mario room

the mario room

pixel sundays!

a week ago i posted a sneak preview on twitter of a tricky room in my new game that i call “the mario room.” instead of posting a screenshot, i posted the the grid of numbers that stores the room inside the game code. it was the language of the game, not the language of the player, indecipherable without some kind of guide. it was a teaser; i’m a tease.

this is what the screen actually looks like. it’s called the mario room for a couple of reasons, one of which can’t be seen in the above screenshot. the other is that it uses iconography borrowed from super mario bros. to give the player a hint about how to cross the room safely, without singeing her pig in the lava or clipping her wings on a corner.

while you’re looking at my twitter, check out some other work i’ve done lately, including an ansi business card and sketches with no carrier’s gallerynes.