So without further ado, welcome to the first post in a new series about powers! Much like the posts about specific characters, but now talking about specific superpowers and abilities you get in fiction. And of course, I’m starting with one of the simplest and most direct powers: Strength.
They’re the guys who’ll decisively travel back in time and kill baby Hitler.
Stories, sides, life. Things tend to be seen in black and white, evil and good, dark and light. It’s a distinction that lies in our most primal archetypes, a desire for epic scales and stakes, for the world to make sense.
And then there’s the reality of everything in-between. Those who aren’t wholly good, nor wholly bad. Those defined by the codes they reject as much as by the codes they hold. The grey. Fifty shades of…what do you mean I already used that title gag? That was a completely different topic!
We might wax philosophical and try and paint it as a purely artistic decision, but this is the cold, hard reality of game design, folks: You need CASH MONEY.
And there you have inspirational quotes from some of the most iconic videogame characters! Can YOU guess who said each one?
So yes, today I’ll be talking about SILENT PROTAGONISTS! No, I don’t mean characters who are unusually quiet. I mean it’s you, the player character, but there is just about no dialogue coming from them.
Now, this might seem a tad antiquated. What’s the deal with them? Do people still DO them? Do we only know this because our childhood icons were mute?
What can we learn from barely competent teaching staff and poor hiring standards?
Class is once again in session! Yes, that idiom was to be expected. Yes, you are fully allowed to cringe at me. Just as planned!
Today, I’ll be talking about a staple of fantastic settings and what we can learn from it: The SUPERSCHOOL! One highly popular example of a very involved setting.
Whether it’s an academy, the school, a magical order, or an alien police force, these are institutions built around the idea of collecting what we’d consider “special” and training it to perfection. From Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters to the Hogwarts School For Witchcraft And Wizardry, these have been a rich source for potential stories.
The main purpose of these, of course, is to teach superpowered individuals how to responsibly control and use their powers. Otherwise you’ll end up with all sorts of tragedy and collateral damage. Though the mission statement and end goals can vary, ultimately they’re about getting all that power in one place and getting it under control or awarded after rigorous training.
But what’s the deal with these schools? When’s something normal or not, and what’s the nuts and bolts behind it? What can we learn from barely competent teaching staff and poor hiring standards?