The Republic of Thoronia

Video game soundtracks are rarely on the top of list when it comes to finances, and rarely even listed on review scorecards. Yet, as a medium the industry still seems hell bent on retaining a cinematic nature with the sound and to this end the industry is failing.

Now, to be fair, sound effects are usually high on the list of “things to make a game good” but the actual soundtrack itself usually finds itself following basic film tropes:

*Large orchestrated pieces
*Midi synth
*Rock ‘n Roll/Pop Music
*Complete lack of music

There are a few games that I’ve been playing recently which have attempted to, and in some cases succeded at creating an excellent soundtrack — I’m not talking about the excellent Zelda theme and its subsequent rehashings, or the massive scale Final Fantasy orchestrations, or even the highly addictive music of puzzle games — I’m talking about a few games I’ve played recently that have attempted not to bridge the gap between cinema and game, but actually make a soundtrack specifically for the medium.

Mass Effect

Mass Effect fails miserably on most counts when it comes to the soundtrack, like many games before it and certainly many more to come, the designers decided on large scale Hollywood-style orchestrations for the majority of the game. However, at certain points Mass Effect nails it with minimalist, small scale science fiction arpeggios that feel, well, just right. It’s a science fiction game, it takes place in a science fiction universe, it follows science fiction theme’s and ideals — man/woman goes on mission, things go wrong, man/woman must save universe. Occasionally the soundtrack kicks in, lightly, as background, with the feeling of experimental ’70s electronic music, when this happens it is absolutely perfect — immersive, gut wrenching, hypnotic. Unfortunately this changes during cinemas to an orchestra and the whole thing falls apart.

Fallout 3

Fallout 3 has an excellent soundtrack. That said, it’s a very short soundtrack, maybe 40 minutes of actual music. Weirdly, this in game music, which is controlled by a radio by the player isn’t what happens during sequences with event triggers. You walk out of the vault for the first time and what do you get? An old timey jingle? No, for some reason you get a large orchestrated piece that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the game. It’s mindblowing that this is what they decided to do. They create a world in which the ‘50 lived forever, and then shatter the world with modern music pieces. They weave an in game radio into the plot, filled with propaganda, old time songs by the Ink Spots, Roy Brown, etc., then toss in orchestrations that make little sense. Why not use the same licensed soundtrack to convey the plot? Why wouldn’t “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire” have worked for the player’s first step into the Wasteland?

inFamous

inFamous is a game that really, truly nails the very idea behind a video game soundtrack. That said, it’s not executed particularly well, but the foundation is there. The soundtrack is written and recorded by Amon Tobin using real world objects — trash cans, concrete, junk cars. This works perfectly for a game taking place in a half-destroyed city. The game itself is nothing particularly special, but the soundtrack is an excellent example of developers actually thinking about what the world they’ve created would sound like.

Final Thoughts

It’s no mystery that the industry needs to step away from film tropes if it wants to come into its own and tell its own types of stories. At the same time the industry needs to come up with its own way of conveying story through music. Soundtracks are an important part to any film — and most of us have our own personal soundtrack running through our heads throughout the day. Why wouldn’t our digital avatar’s have the same thing? What would these worlds, created from scratch sound like? What would I be hearing in my head while exploring a desolate planet, or an apocalyptic wasteland? Orchestrations? Unlikely.

If we look back at where the medium was heading 20 years ago we’ll find scripting like iMuse that attempted to set up soundtrack triggers to help convey themes. This was a stepping stone that didn’t seem to lead anywhere (we’re still here, just play any Call of Duty game and look for the line you need to step over to start the moaning violins and epic horns), but did set up some interesting ideals and systems to execute a soundtrack. Recently we’ve been getting dynamic systems in games like Far Cry 2, where weather, environment and pace are reconciled into the score (Far Cry 2 is another example of a game that attempted to go above and beyond in the soundtrack department, using instruments native to Africa while attempting to create mood and atmosphere with their dynamic system). These dynamic systems are likely the future of video game soundtracks (or, more accurately, are currently the way many work, event triggers not withstanding).  However, the soundtracks themselves have got to fit the mood of the rest of the game. I don’t need every game to have massive orchestration, I don’t even want that. Orchestrations are Hollywood tricks to make you feel when the director can’t completely convey a point — tearing up at the end of a movie when someone dies because the actor’s can’t hold their own (okay okay, also they are to enhance the mood). A true score needs to be able to be manipulated and changed to fit the player’s actions, no matter how unexpected those are.

I’ve got more to talk about here in regards to the possibilities for new systems and mechanics, and will do so soon.

Most regular readers here will quickly acknowledge that there has been an abundance of Simoebic Dysentery related posts. This one, the one you are reading right now, continues that trend. However, I hope to delve a bit deeper into the process thus far — the process of learning a new means to tell a story through trial and error. I’ve dreamt of working on a video game for the majority of my cognizant life. In the past, I’ve worked with Mojiferous (who’s developer diary that was recorded during the uDevGames contest (you know the one, the contest that we one 1st in “Originality” and 3rd in “Audio”) can be found here) through other facets including: a remix album, sound effects for Zoltan! and beta/QA testing for Atomic Combat 2.0. However, Simoebic Dysentery is the first project that we’ve worked on together from the ground up. Idea to (eventual) fruition. That being said, I’d like to discuss a bit of the history, from the origins to the present state.

ART

Glancing through my emails from the end of December, 2008 through early January, I can get an accurate glimpse of the some of the earliest stages of the process. The original idea, the one that sparked the whole thing, wasn’t related to the inner workings of the body at all. In fact, it was a weird “puzzle” game in which you were given a big gun, and had to blow up walls, but you only got a set of bullets. Pretty stupid really, but what it did do was spawn a slew of idea’s from Mojiferous. These ideas, pitched back and forth eventually lead to the idea of a game in which you play a virus and are attempting to navigate the bloodstream to kill your host. Originally the game was from an isometric point of view but technology, time and tech forced us into an overhead view. Also, after some fact checking, the virus was switched to an amoeba. The origins were remarkably crude, considering where we ended up:

I’m told that the main problem we were running into at the beginning were derivative of Mojiferous wanting to render the entire graphic set in the game — basically no call to jpg’s, png’s or predrawn hoo-haw. What we ended up with is a mashup of this system with the anatomy drawings from everyone’s favorite anatomical guidebook (which was the primary focus of the art style, narrative, and a building block to the basic premise of the game. Thanks Dr. Henry Gray!)

But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

ORIGINS

Our first real face to face was conducted at a coffee shop, where we sat notebooks in hand, a copy of Gray’s Anatomy open on the table and coffee spilling over the cups, talking, talking, talking. This, I remember thinking to myself, was collaborative creation. It was the epidome of this weird bohemian vision I’d created in my head of what it really meant to be on the brink of a creative cusp. This wasn’t a game, it was a revolution.

Of course, this was all quickly lost after we began the process of actually making the damn thing. Life’s an interesting thing, because it tends to get in the way of a lot of things. Here we had two Graduate students that were working on a hobby alongside 40 hour a week jobs and classes. One of us operates as an early person, the other at night. So the majority of our conversations would now take place via email and phone — but for the moment I was stuck waiting. The problem with being a “designer” is that after the idea comes crapping out of your body, after the pen is finished with the paper, your job is done for a while. So I had to sit back and wait for Mojiferous to get me the level creator toolkit.

We also had a hell of a time coming up with a name for this damn thing. In fact, we went through quite a few:

• An Amoebic Adventure
• Amoeba Lung
• Amoeba Brain
• Amoeba Castle
• Amoeba Mumbles
• Lone Amoeba
• Amoeba Sandwich
• Amoeba Grease
• Amoebic Onslaught
• Amoebic Avenue
• Amoebic Aggression
• Amoebic Enterprise
• Amoeba Attack
• The Shits
• etc.

MUSIC

During this time I was supposed to be working on the soundtrack. Which I was — and by mean working on it, I mean it was forming in my head. I don’t write music, I’ve never believed that I had the ability, but I do improv and I improv well (and by well, I mean I enjoy myself, not that I play well). Eventually, I plopped down in front of the keyboard and recorded four hours of music. Then I cut it down. It’s available you know, in case you missed the thirty-six other mentions on this very blog, here.

But none of the above things are really all that interesting. These are the types of things that one would expect from a little indie game. Lots of meetings, testing, late night and early mornings.

NARRATIVE

I do believe I’ve learned a significant amount of skills through this beginning process. First and foremost, the ability to talk about a project like this and bring it to fruition. We aren’t there yet, but I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll be there shortly. For me, the most interesting aspect here is the narrative. I consider myself a writer before all else and for better or worse that’s my chosen path. With a game like this, a puzzle game, it seemed almost absurd to combine story with gameplay. But I believe that Mojiferous and I have worked out a compelling reason to play this — and not just for the brain twisters.

When one talks of narrative in regards to a game, it’s important to understand that narrative and story aren’t the same thing. I’ve looked at this before. The interesting thing for me with Simoebic Dysentery was that the narrative was the entire reason for the game’s existence. We were actually using the setting (a human body) as both a playing field and a character. The two were interweaved and as the game progressed, this became more and more apparent. The actual plot of the game is fairly simple: Man goes to Amazon. Man contracts disease. Man tries to rid himself of disease. Man… well, I won’t give you a spoiler yet, but it’s fair to say that the man will either live or die. These plot points are revealed in game, through voice overs coming through the body and into the setting.

For me, this is interesting on a number of levels. We are afforded the unique opportunity to have a story being told by non-playable characters that directly effect the way the game is played (man goes to voodoo doctor who injects you with snail juice and suddenly you, the amoeba are forced to adapt, change your methods and learn new tactics. Think of the fire in Far Cry 2, or the rain in Call of Duty 4). These outside forces, the setting of the whole story are contriving against you, the player. It also creates the interesting dynamic of what exactly a game is. A game is, to many, something that you try to “win” or “beat.” Brainy Gamer talked about the idea of “beating” a game a while ago, which is actually what got me thinking of how one would go about creating a relationship with “win” that would, in the end, destroy the game, the idea of the game, and the point of even playing a game. Basically, if you, the amoeba win, the character, which is also the setting, dies. You no longer serve a purpose.

We were also faced with the problem of creating these voices in a manner that was both believable and interesting. We’re still hard at work on this — but our voice talent is solid, and I believe that the story is compelling enough to keep the player entertained throughout their puzzle solving. I’m not going to bother going too far into this now, because I imagine it’ll be a major point in the second of these posts (when the game finishes itself), when I’ll be able to talk more thoroughly about what I thought worked well and what didn’t when dealing with the narrative.

WHERE WE ARE AND WHERE WE’RE HEADING

As of this last week, we’ve both finished up with school for the semester. I’ll be heading back in June for a month, but we’re still given ample time to continue on Simoebic Dysentery. The future of the game is still rather daunting. We have the final proof’s of the story. We have the voice acting. We have a hundred or so levels to design. We have mutagens, add-ons, adaptations and enhancements to think about. Oh, what was that? Didn’t I mention that the game will feature mild RPG elements that allow your amoeba to evolve? Well, RPG in a loose sense, as the evolutions will come from how you attack the levels, not from a dice roll or upgrade system. The hope is that by gauging the way the player plays the game, our branching narrative will adapt to continue the challenge while the setting changes as well, flushing out its own systems and bringing in new ones. New elements will be introduced based around the ways a player beats a level (do they float through the blood stream and hide from white blood cells, or do the lyse their way through like a tank?). So far we’ve learned a lot of things. We’ve learned to keep our ideas small, to understand our own limits but still push them, we’ve learned that friends aren’t going to spend time beta testing or toying around with an unfinished project, but strangers on the internet will, we’ve learned that we have an original idea that is worth continuing with. Sure, in the end, this is “just another indie game.” But it’s our indie game dammit. And I’m already proud of it.

“The machine was open. No kidding, just sitting there, wide open on a Sunday, a hundred quarters just sitting there.” My pulse was beating hard when I spoke these words to my friend Andy over the phone, “And I got a free issue of the Sunday Rocky Mountain News.”

“Enough of the Rocky,” he said to me, “how much did you get?”

It was a wide-open change box of the Rocky Mountain News newspaper box that enabled me to purchase my first Sonic Youth album, 1995’s Washing Machine. Living in a small town the box probably wasn’t cleaned out too often; in fact, it seems like we only received the Sunday edition of the Rocky, they never bothered bringing us the news during the week. In this open box was 140 quarters, probably all from that day alone.  So there I was, $35 right in front me, faced with a decision that, I’ll be honest, wasn’t too difficult to make. I packed the quarters into my backpack and biked home. My parents were gone for the day, so I dumped the money out all over the bed and began to count. That’s when I called my friend Andy. He’d just picked up Washing Machine and was listening to it while I talked to him.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It’s Sonic Youth. It’s amazing,” he said.

I was hearing, I found out later, the last track “Diamond Sea,” a 19-minute freakout that would later blow my mind with face-melting noise riffs that I can honestly say I never thought I’d hear in my life.

So I went out with my quarters and bought the album. The clerk, a face that I’d learn to know over the next few years, congratulated me on purchase, but looked at me with a distinct air of annoyance as I plopped down the $15 worth of quarters.

“You give up collecting them or something?” the clerk said to me.

Startled at someone questioning the origin of the quarters, I muttered something about a crazy aunt or uncle and ran out of the store.

I popped it in my Aiwa CD player when I got home. “Becuz” kicked in and my brain felt like it was about to hemorrhage. “What is this?” I thought to myself. “This can’t be music, this is, this is something else all together.”

Then the nine-minute title track hit me in the face. My eyes opened wide, the feeling of panic hit me, and for whatever reason, I began to feel guilty about my recent treasure hunt. Thurston Moore seemed to be yelling at me, Kim Gordon slapped me in the face, Gordon sang, “it’s a woman’s face/ and she threw a quarter down at me and she said / ‘honey, here’s a quarter go put it in the washing machine.’” The rock continued to pummel me in the face, and the words echoed over and over in my head, “here’s a quarter.” They knew. I don’t know how, but Sonic Youth knew I bought their album with quarters that weren’t rightfully mine.

I took the CD off, sat down on my bed and stared at the backpack filled with quarters. I never mentioned it again, I never bought anything larger than a soda or some candy with Blackbeard’s stolen change. I even bought a few copies of the Rocky each week to pay them back. As far as I was concerned, I owed them the $35 that I stole. I think I still owe them about $25, but after they went out of business I realized it probably doesn’t matter much anymore.

The art of telling a story is a simple one. That is, it’s simple as an idea, and if you have the means to get that idea onto paper, you are set to go. As a person who strives for the ability to call himself a writer, I tend to look at things from a narrative viewpoint. This causes a strange breakage in thought when it comes to video games. No, not because video games lack story, but because a video game’s narrative isn’t as simple as say, a movie, or a story. The word “narrative” encompasses so much more here. It is the universe, the world, the flora, the fauna, the shrubbery, the characters, the plot, the camera, the lighting, etc. Video games do not operate like movies, nor like books, they are their own entity, and unfortunately are often ridiculed, underused systems of storytelling. This is often because of a writers perception of a “gamer” as an underaged or underdeveloped human who is looking, perhaps at the most to interact or be immersed in a world, but isn’t looking for a complex story. This is quite wrong, as a number of very intelligent people will point out. That being said, that doesn’t mean that designers or writers believe in their audiences enough.

Being not only a person whom would one day like to call myself a professional writer (or at least a pseudo-professional paid jibber-jabber master) but also one whom plays video games and attends a school that breads experimental fiction, I tend to wonder about these things. Why have writers stayed away from the medium? Are they afraid? More afraid then having there works butchered by a Hollywood film exec? Are they not wanted? Not needed? This doesn’t ring true throughout the magical game developer kingdom, there are plenty of forward thinking people out there churning out great games that combine all the aspects of narrative design. There are designers who believe in storytelling and designers who believe in massive set pieces, there are games that stay on one path and games that give the player a sense of freedom, there are even games that leave the storytelling up to the player. You don’t play Sims, you weave a world, Far Cry 2 doesn’t tell you a story you have to find it; all of these combine different narrative elements to achieve the challenge of player immersion and control. However, few games are willing to challenge this challenge. Few people are willing to play a game that challenges their minds and their hands, and even fewer players are willing to play an experimental game… or, at least that’s what we’d like to think.

If you were to find and talk to Robert Coover or Italo Calvino and ask them a question like, “What would you think about being able to tell a story with branching dialogue in which the reader is allowed to respond, thus branching a new set of dialogue and changing the story?” Both writers, and likely many more would be on board. Look at all the hyperlink fiction of the ’90s, the copious amounts of footnotes in modern novels, or the fourth wall breaking meta-excursions of nearly every modern author. This digital medium should be there playground. But instead we get a far less interesting set of worlds, a science fiction war epic, a science fiction horror story, a fantasy lovecraft, a post apocalyptic wasteland… it’s genre fiction. As with all arguments there are many exceptions, some of which even keep within the restraints of financial success, Fallout 3 is a massive game driven by the player’s motive’s, Bioshock is a science fiction epic, Braid a bizarre dream, Grand Theft Auto IV an immigrants struggle… but by remaining in these genre staples, relying on the conventions, the designers are given a freebie–the world is already accepted, it’s acknowledged, there are rules and regulations. Video games will never step off the grocery store shelf of paperback fiction unless designers believe in their players. A twist doesn’t make a good story, convolution doesn’t make a good story, freedom of choice doesn’t make a good story, stereotypes don’t make a good story… what makes a story special is the interaction that the text has with the reader, the writers trust in a readers intelligence, video games are missing this interaction. Sure, it’s easy to draw you in, “immersion” is the industries hottest catchphrase right now, but that isn’t what makes a story memorable. You can be drawn into a John Grisham novel, but that doesn’t make it good. Learning something about a new world, yourself, others, being made to laugh, cry, wonder, think, interact… that’s a good story.

Of course, if every game tried to do this it won’t work, and there will always be a place for genre-games. Whether its survival-horror or a fantasy RPG, these things will always be staples, they can and will be excellent, and they can and will be played and purchased. Experimental narratives cannot and should not be applied to all games–but they ought to be applied to some. Video games do not have to be solely about challenging a players dexterity, or puzzling their mind with parlor tricks, sometimes it can be more. It doesn’t always have to be escapism or immersion, it doesn’t always have to be multiplayer or filled with war. A narrative is a world, it’s a dynamic system, it’s the control scheme, it’s the flora, it’s the camera angle, it’s the characters, it’s the story–all of these aspects working together are what make video games interesting, it’s what has brought them out of the basement and into the forefront of the entertainment industry. Now there’s a chance to play with them a bit more, push them around, experiment. Sure, not all the experiments are going to work. Not all of them will be successfull, but as long as new ideas are consistantly being put on the table the industry will be in good shape.

This isn’t a new argument, and it’s possible it’s an argument that will never be solved, but to those that say video games can’t tell a good story and have good gameplay: that sounds more like a challenge than a statement.

Yes folks it’s true. Contrary to what our initial game concepts might have lead you to believe, Mojiferous and I’s Amoeba based puzzler is well on its way to greatness. To kick off the two month long countdown we’ve decided to release the soundtrack early on, so, without further ado… here it is (zip format, individual MP3s below)! Check out Mojiferous’ explanation of the game below the track listing. And as always, feel free to check out the Republic of Thoronia’s other works here.

1. “Welcome to My Body”

2. “Unrest in Dys-century”

3. “Proteus Maximus”

4. “White Blood Cell Hot Body”

5.  “The Truth is Inside”

6.  “Amoeba I’ll Do It Tomorrow”

7.  “Mitosis Are Sore”

8. “Phagocytosis Soda Charm”

_______________________________________________________________

COPIED FROM the Mojiferforum:

Title: Currently, something involving the word Ameba, Amoeba, Hot Sick, etc. etc. (suggestions, anyone?)
Genre: A real-time puzzler… Sort of an ugly man-beast-child of Frogger, Dig Dug, Super Mario Brothers, Portal, and dysentery.
Game Description: You are a parasite (at this stage in development an amoeba), happily going about your business of parasitism inside some unfortunate fellow’s body. You float through the blood stream, looking for nutrients, avoiding phages and antibiotics, and trying to (literally) divide and conquer. The game will be divided into “levels” and “worlds”- each level is a portion of a system or organ within the person’s body you are living within- so for example, the first “world” will likely be the lungs or stomach, with minor “levels” as you advance through the stomach wall and towards whatever organ you’re after next. Each level ends with a “target cell”, much like the flag at the end of a Super Mario level, full of nutrients to allow you to continue your journey, with end-of-world levels home to a much more nutrient rich cell that will give your amoeba enough energy to divide, increasing the number of “lives” you have and opening the door for possible mutation. Mutation is currently planned to be non-directional (meaning neither definitively positive nor negative) and allows for added abilities, special skills, or [possibly] unforeseen consequences.
How it will work: Like Dig Dug married to Super Mario at Frogger’s house… The player will start at one end of the level, with the “target cell” at the opposite end- in between there will be a maze of blood vessels, cells, bone, muscle, etc. etc. The player can move freely through the blood vessels, but they will be the main conduits for immune-response cells (of various kinds), antibiotics, and other such amoeba-eating nasties (everything will move through the blood vessels according to a “pulse”, and in early levels the player may not have strong enough propulsion to overcome this pulse and may be stuck riding the current. Also, as the “patient” gets sicker, the pulse will increase, making the game’s “immune response” faster as levels increase… this is the Frogger part of the game, timing your escape from the white blood cells.) Surrounding the blood vessels will be cells that the player is able to lyse, or burst- much like Dig Dug, tunneling through the body’s organs to get at the “target cell”. Occasionally these normal cells will also hold immune-system nasties or bonus proteins, making them impassible or attractive. Scattered about will also be areas that are impassible (such as bones or muscle tissue), that the player will have to plan around. Big gameplay concept: The amoeba may only destroy a limited number of cells in its quest for the “target cell”, so the player will have to plan their route to the target- will it be through the dangers of the blood stream, or can you make it through the maze of cells and tissue? if only you had enough cell-bursting power…
Graphics: The graphics will be modeled after Gray’s Anatomy (the book, not the TV show), with a woodcut/etched look. Mostly black and white, but with color overlays for blood vessels, target cells, etc. Some important items or places will be labeled in a similar fashion to the book.
Controls: WASD and spacebar

Development Tools:
REALBasic
Illustrator
Inkscape
Gimp
Audacity

Team:
Joe Flores (Mojiferous) – code, design
Thorin Klosowski (King Thor) – design, script, music, sound
Liaht Rosenstein – technical consultation, editor

Additional notes: We’re hoping to have some sort of soundtrack for the game, and recorded dialog (that will sound muddied, as if you were listening to it inside the body) whether that happens, we’ll see…

Development Plan (as of 01/09/09):
1) build a graphics engine for the game with accompanying level editor, post them here, distribute to team (1 week?)
2) design levels, while sound, music, and other assets come together (early Feb?)
3) assemble levels and start building physics and logic for the game (late Feb?)
4) something close to a working game (hopefully by the end of the contest!)