Thalen Speaks

Today I’m falling back on one of Belghast’s writing prompts.  “What was the first game that made you ‘feel’ something”.  I think it’s interesting that Bel says we’ve all had a human emotional response to a game; it wasn’t all that many years ago that the idea that games could provoke a response in the way that other media does was widely dismissed.  As the new form of media, gaming was experiencing the same sort of disdain that comic books, television, movies previously had.  Looking back now, after experiencing games like Bioshock or Brothers, it seems silly to think that people thought like that.  I was disagreeing with them way back in the 80s though, because the first game that provoked an emotional reponse in me was a text adventure.

Infocom made a massive number of text adventures back in the early days of personal computing.  The one that first really hit me in the feels was Planetfall.  In Planetfall you played the part of a Stellar Patrol member (basically the United Federation of Planets) who is stranded on an apparently depopulated planet and must figure out what happened there and how to contact help and escape.

Early on the course of the adventure, you come across a ‘helpful’ robot named Floyd.  Floyd has the personality of a small child, and mostly tags along with you making comments on the areas you enter and the like.  Looking at it dispassionately he’s really not that complicated, but he’s very endearing.

Late in the game, you reach a point where you need to activate a machine to continue.  The activation card, however, is locked in a room with a number of deadly mutants.  Trying to enter the room yourself results in your quick and bloody demise.  Once Floyd becomes aware of the card, however…  well, I’ll quote the game here.

“Looks dangerous in there,” says Floyd. “I don’t think you should go inside.” He peers in again. “We’ll need card there to fix computer. Hmmm… I know! Floyd will get card. Robots are tough. Nothing can hurt robots. You open the door, then Floyd will rush in. Then you close door. When Floyd knocks, open door again. Okay? Go!” Floyd’s voice trembles slightly as he waits for you to open the door.
> OPEN THE DOOR
“The door opens and Floyd, pausing only for the briefest moment, plunges into the Bio Lab. Immediately, he is set upon by hideous, mutated monsters! More are heading straight toward the open door! Floyd shrieks and yells to you to close the door.”
> CLOSE THE DOOR
From within the lab you hear ferocious growlings, the sounds of a skirmish, and then a high-pitched metallic scream!
> WAIT
Time passes…

You hear, slightly muffled by the door, three fast knocks, followed by the distinctive sound of tearing metal.
> OPEN THE DOOR
Floyd stumbles out of the Bio Lab, clutching the mini-booth card. The mutations rush toward the open doorway!
> CLOSE THE DOOR
And not a moment too soon! You hear a pounding from the door as the monsters within vent their frustration at losing their prey.

Floyd staggers to the ground, dropping the mini card. He is badly torn apart, with loose wires and broken circuits everywhere. Oil flows from his lubrication system. He obviously has only moments to live.

You drop to your knees and cradle Floyd’s head in your lap. Floyd looks up at his friend with half-open eyes. “Floyd did it … got card. Floyd a good friend, huh?” Quietly, you sing Floyd’s favorite song, the Ballad of the Starcrossed Miner: ….

As you finish the last verse, Floyd smiles with contentment, and then his eyes close as his head rolls to one side. You sit in silence for a moment, in memory of a brave friend who gave his life so that you might live.”

Reading that just now, I teared up a little.  I was no older than 10 when I played Planetfall and got to that point.  It was heartbreaking.  Floyd had been my companion through the whole game, and now he had sacrificed himself for me.  That’s the first time I remember feeling real emotion in response to a game.  Planetfall came out in 1983, over 30 years ago.  It had no graphics, no sound, nothing but plain text, and yet it had more heart than some games I see come out in modern times.

Source: Thalen Speaks
Feels

Isey’s ruminations in response to my post yesterday got me thinking more about death in comics.  Death has been a part of superhero comics for a long time, and has been handled in varying ways.  Sometimes it’s been done well, but more often it just seems like a last desperate attempt to do something shocking with a character that isn’t as relevant as they once were.

One of the earliest superhero deaths was that of Lightning Lad, way back in 1963.  He remained dead for a less than a year and was then resurrected by super-science.  There was never really any question that he would be back, though; even the end blurb of the story he died in alludes to his eventual resurrection.  Gwen Stacy is another famous death from the 60’s, and one of the few that hasn’t been overturned.  Later appearances have inevitably been clones.

These days, death and resurrection seem to go hand in hand, just another plot device among many.  I can’t say I entirely disapprove of characters in superhero comics dying, but I do think it should be rare and meaningful.  The death of the original Captain Marvel is a good example of a superhero death that was well handled and made for an excellent story.  Much of the story is actually focused on how his friends and fellow superheroes deal with his death.

Barry Allen is another character whose death I can’t disapprove of.  The Silver Age Flash went out in the most superheroic of ways, saving not just the world, not even just the universe, but an entire multiverse from destruction.  His death in Crisis on Infinite Earths ended and era and passed the torch to his sidekick, Wally West, who took up the mantle of the Flash.

More often, though, character death seems to be a way to try and raise the stakes by knocking off a few heroes to show that the threat should be taken seriously.  Avengers Disassembled killed off Hawkeye, Vision, Ant-Man, Jack of Hearts, and Agatha Harkness among others to try and drive the threat of the Scarlet Witch’s madness home.  It’s worth pointing out that the first three of those characters have all been returned to life since, and the remaining two could be easily brought back at any time based on their established powers.

It’s always possible that part of why I accept the deaths from longer ago is the simple fact that they occurred before I was reading comics.  To me, Wally West was the Flash and Gwen Stacy had always been dead.  I’m sure readers of the time were as dismayed by their deaths as I was when Nightcrawler died (he’s also back now, by the way).  Time heals all wounds, and distance lends objectivity.

Ultimately, death is a part of the story now, for good or ill.  I guess I can’t complain too much, since it seems even the most ignominious of superhero deaths have a silver lining.  Without Avengers Disassembled we would never have gotten the sublime Young Avengers.  And my all-time favorite superhero team owes its existence to one of the most derided of crossovers, the story that killed off the Fantastic Four and Avengers all at once, Onslaught.

Heroes Reborn, on the other hand, was pretty much 100% hot garbage.

Source: Thalen Speaks
Death in Comics