Bought this game on sale (or maybe through PS+?) months and months ago, when we went on a binge of looking at couples’ games to get. Hadn’t played it after that, though, but the other day husband saw that RDR2 went on PS+ so we went through our library to figure out what we could delete and we saw this downloaded and I said “Oh, let’s save this for a date night.”
Yesterday, I walked into the living room and my head tilted – the music for my husband’s sounded far more…whimsical than I thought RDR2 would be. The music, actually, instantly captured my attention. It was soft, enticing, indie, almost off-key in that music box way and I came over to see what he had loaded up. I couldn’t help it! I was instantly intrigued by the sound design because it suggested a certain type of game, which the art reinforced. There’s great coherence here in presenting an experience, especially when you learn it’s co-op.
It was an unexpected surprise, but a welcome one. How cute is it to have your SO seduce you with a game?
The first cut scene was adorable. We love pun-based humor and also enjoy cooking together, so the overall theme and writing appeal to us. I settled back, thinking this was going to be a cute little coop story game where I basically mashed a few buttons to help out my hubby.
lolno
It started great but cut to learning how to make rice and our entire – and I mean entire – kitchen is on fire. I apparently thought I could put them out by dashing at them. Meanwhile, I had also picked up the fire extinguisher, thinking it was chopped tuna, and put it on a plate.
This game ramps up QUICKLY, but the failures are fun and memorable.
At this point, I’ll diverge to talk a bit about memory.
There’s been some interesting research done into how our memories work and there seems to be some evidence to show that we remember bad memories in more detail that we do good ones.
There’s ALSO been research done to show that couples bond and retain bonds when they make new memories together.
Think back to your own gaming history – what do you remember the most? The time you got first or the time you ALMOST got first?
My husband literally just came by, read this, and whispered “Don’t pull the lever!” – we met in a MUD and our most memorable experience was when he was taking me to get a super important quest done. Like he had prepped the start for this quest ending for hours, setting up all the details.
And all we had to do was pull a lever to finish the quest. The thing was, the lever needed to pulled at the exactly specific time. He told me “don’t pull the lever” and so all I could think about was pulling the lever to see what it did.
I pulled the fucking lever, ladies and gents, and it did… nothing. My future husband was like “Did you seriously just pull the fucking lever?” and I was like “yeah, sorry, you just made me really curious about the fucking lever…”
This was a crux moment.
And this is when I decided I was going to marry this man, because he was like…. “Welp, that sucks and here is why:” and he proceeded to tell me what the lever did and why pulling it was a bad thing and then he was like “on retrospect, I should have opened with that.” And I knew, just knew, yep, that’s my husband.
Instead of raging at me or making me feel bad, he explained and then **immediately** started teasing me about it, to the point that it’s a joke he mentions as part of the “how we met” spiel.
Pick someone who explains what the lever does instead of being mad that you pulled it, right?
The following comment from a WI article started reminding me of some of my biggest newb moments.
Daniel said: If quest healing, also remember not to modify your attacks to the alt key! Alt+tab when questing may end in disaster.
You see, I use keybindings a lot for my healing, especially for instant cast spells. Probably a development of all the PvPing I did during my formative levelling. I soon realized that I ran out of keys to use, so I use modifiers quite often.
That’s a simple use of modifiers in a macro. You press different buttons and different things happen. You can use these quite potently…or otherwise…
I, personally, have alt set as my modifier for directing my spells to my tank. Ie, I press 1, I bubble myself. I press alt+1, I bubble the tank. Well, I was raiding on my paladin and we were in Bastion of Twilight at that REALLY nasty trash pull with all the elements, right before the Captain Planet fight.
Now, at this past point in time, I have my hands (eg of protection, salvation, etc) lined up on my F keys to keep track of them really easily (you may see where this is going), but when I try to hand of sacrifice the tank, my game crashes!
“Omg!” I growl into mumble. “Wait, sorry, ack, stupid game crashed!”
I log back in to see that everyone has wiped. Sadface. We run back and try again. Again, I attempt to hand of sacrifice the tank. Again, poof! WoW closes.
“OMG! This spell is making my game crash!!!” I log back in, righteously pissed off at Blizzard by this point, and finally one of my teammates jokes, “Geez, what are you doing? Pressing alt+f4 over and over? Lawl!”
Oh. Duh. I mumble something about bugs as I furtively move hand of sacrifice off of the F4 key.
Apparently I’m not the only one who was reminded of newbiness, as today’s WI breakfast topic is a wonderful collection of amusing raid-based failure. I highly recommend a read.
Some runs back are longer than others…
“Newb moments,” to me, are something longer-lasting than a simple blonde moment or brain fart. They are almost a sort of epiphany, moments where you discover something fundamental and profound – except in this case, that discovery is something you really should have known about.
My very first memory of a newb moment was when I initially began playing MUDs, over a dozen years ago (ugh, I feel so old saying that). I remember reading the game’s website and imagining how I could become an amazing, powerful….something. I wasn’t that clear on how it all worked. Eager to become awesome, I set off exploring.
Now, I had played other games before this. I had a Sega Genesis as a kid and even before that we had an Atari ST (it was the Cadillac of prehistoric PCs kthnx). Even better, we had internet access before the internet was even a fully-fledged thing. This meant that we got, in addition to all the important boring government DARPA defense stuff, SHAREWARE (and demo) GAMES!!!
While some of these games were amazing displays of graphics and sound like TURRICAN, some were little freeware ditties, including a range of text games: virtual trucker games, a Clue knockoff and Zork-esque adventures. The text adventures, in particular, resonated with me, and I spent many an hour trying to “get dragon” and “kill dragon” (and lots of subsequent “you have died”ing).
So, when I got older and we got ourselves a fancy new computer and super fast internet – the phone jack went STRAIGHT INTO THE COMPUTER!!! – I started looking at what games were out there on the web and found a game called Avalon. Fast-forward to my imagined ascent to greatness.
Oh boy. Telnet.
I explored the virtual world, merrily typing north, north, east, look, get dung – you know, the usual. I discovered things all over that I could pick up. I found a whole castle on top of a mountain filled with dwarves! I got lost in the caves under the castle and got killed by an orc. I dropped all of the awesome shinies I had been carrying. Le sigh. A roadblock on my path to becoming amazing!
It didn’t matter. I was enthralled. I played for hours straight, and then again the next day. And at the height of this enraptured gameplay, something happened – the newbiest newb moment of all newb moments – that changed my paradigm on games completely.
I was still caught up in my voracious exploring and questing when I wandered into a building that appeared to be a temple. The rooms had vaunted names and the text descriptions detailed columns and ornate carvings. I felt a shiver of apprehension. Was I nearly at the part where I became the ruler of the world?
I came upon a dead end. There, standing out in bright aquamarine text, was what had to be part of my ultimate quest: “Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.” Normal quest creatures weren’t named in colors that brilliant. Normal quest givers didn’t have names that illustrious. Normal quest givers didn’t hang out in a sacred temple. Exhaling slowly, I readied myself for the final task and then typed in the phrase I had learned would prompt the game’s creatures to give me quests – GREET ARCHIMEDES.
You warmly greet Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.
I waited, breath bated.
And kept waiting. Weird. The other creatures always gave me quests instantly.
GREET ARCHIMEDES.
You warmly greet Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.
Still nothing. I was getting frustrated.
GREET ARCHIMEDES
GREET ARCHIMEDES
GREET ARCHIMEDES
You warmly greet Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.
You warmly greet Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.
You warmly greet Archimedes, the God of Wisdom.
Archimedes, the God of Wisdom lets out a broad chuckle.
Archimedes, the God of Wisdom says, “Quite the persistently friendly one you are, aren’t you?”
GET QUEST FROM ARCHIMEDES
Archimedes, the God of Wisdom says, “Are you lost? Need some help on your novice quests?”
NOVICE
NOVICE commands are the province of the Ministry of Public Relations and the barony.
Ok, what did that mean?! All of a sudden this game was getting confusing.
Theresa appears before you through the black screen of a magical portal.
Whoa.
“Hi!” Theresa happily says.
Theresa says, “Lost novice here?”
Archimedes, the God of Wisdom nods emphatically.
Theresa says, “No worries. I’ll help her out.”
Theresa says, “Follow me. Just type FOLLOW THERESA.”
WHOA.
Suddenly it hit me – these were not computer creatures. THESE WERE REAL PEOPLE. There were other people playing the game with me. The world fell out beneath me. I had been completely oblivious to the vast, expansive nature of the game I was playing…oblivious to the potential of the internet itself. I was in a fantasy world inhabited not just by monsters and dragons, but also by other living, breathing people. All on my computer. The realization was astounding.
This, here, was my newb moment, when I discovered I had been overlooking an essential element of the game. In my case, I had missed the fundamental nature of what a MUD was – a multiplayer dungeon.
Once that awareness sunk in, the game was never the same.
On one hand, a whole new vista of gameplay unfolded. Player-to-player interactions are far more complex and ever-changing than scripted AI. Roleplay develops, alliances form, enemies are made. Combat is intense and politics compelling. The game develops endless playability.
Then again, there is something vital lost in that awakening. It’s like a kid realizing that (spoilers!) Santa doesn’t really exist. Yes, you see the more complex mechanics of the gameplay (or reasons for the holiday) and learn to play at a deeper level (ie be a grown up), but there is still an element of blissful ignorance that has been shed. What started as an impossibly engaging magical experience establishes itself as just a game.
Any level of competent gameplay requires this transition (which is probably a better topic for another entry, as this one is getting rather long). Sometimes, however, I look back on this first massive newb moment, and nostalgically remember what it was like to be clueless.
How about you? Any incredibly huge blind spots you’ve discovered in your gameplay? Any big discoveries? Any reaaaaaally stupid mistakes you’ve made?
a little bit of everything all of the time 