MushroomSamba
Member
Journey is a trip. After all the Game of the Year accolades it's been getting, I figured it was time for me to see what all the fuss is about (also helps that it was recently on sale).
I think everyone is aware by now that, yes, it's a very, very pretty game, but what surprised me was actually the co-op component. I didn't even realize it HAD one, so imagine my shock when I suddenly saw another sand-surfer appear alongside me. It took only a moment to distinguish it as another human being as opposed to an NPC or AI character. There's no way to communicate either by voice or PM, yet the two of us still found a way to interact with movement and "singing". It was all very organic.
So I spent half the game with this other person adventuring with me, until he/she suddenly vanished. It happened right after this really energetic sand-surfing sequence...once the high of the moment had worn off, it suddenly hit me that my companion was no longer there. Simply vanished. A void by my side. I looked around everywhere, waited, sang dejectedly into the empty space, and eventually accepted that we somehow got split up and lost each other. It was startling how lonely I suddenly felt.
A bit later, another person did show up. I could tell instantly it was someone new by the different way he/she moved and acted, and obviously by how this person looked (waaay longer scarf and neat designs on the cloak). This person had clearly been playing this for a very long time and knew what to do, guiding me along efficiently and with a much clearer system of "singing". Interpreting what he/she meant somehow felt really clear and intuitive.
The highlight moment of this game for me (minor spoilers ahead) was this part where we had to stealthily sneak across this area with giant sand worms floating above us, patrolling with their natural spotlights. When we first entered the area, my companion and I ran directly under this cover structure. He/she stayed underneath it, while I brazenly ran forward, not realizing the spotlight was coming this way. My companion tried to warn me with repeated quick bursts of song notes, but while I stood out there in the open, trying to figure out what the person was trying to say, the sky suddenly turned red and the gravity of the situation instantly dawned on me. The huge, hulking sand worm had spotted me and came crashing down, dragged me along for a bit, then tossed me aside. It snapped my scarf. The scarf I've been building up all this time. Ruined. Back to square one. I was broken-hearted as I laid there in the sand. I refused to move or get up. My companion stood in silence. Watching me, clearly understanding how devastated I must be. He/she chirped once. Then again. Then ran over to me and jumped around, trying to get me back up and going.
Eventually I did, but I was still really bummed about what happened, not realizing it was actually being subconsciously conveyed in the way I was playing. I wasn't cheerfully bouncing around, swerving, and chirping like I usually was, and instead just droned on straight ahead, silently, with the occasional yelp to acknowledge I understood what the person was trying to direct. We've been moving along for a bit, me following right behind, until we suddenly stopped in our tracks. I didn't know what was up. I stared at the person, who had turned around to look at me, and waited for him/her to continue on so we can just finish up this journey of ours and get it over with. He/she suddenly started exuberantly singing and circling around me, jumping about and getting that ridiculously long scarf caught on me. At that moment, it hit me that my companion actually detected how I was feeling with my changed actions, and was trying to cheer me up. And it worked. Astounded by this little revelation, I responded by dancing along and we continued on, merrily.
Then another tragedy struck. I don't really understand how, but I accidentally found myself in another spotlight. The place went red again with impending doom. But the sand worm wasn't after me...it turned its attention and veered towards my companion instead. In that split second realization, I chirped in panic to alert him/her, then tried running into the giant sand worm's path, trying to get its attention back on me and make it come after me instead. It didn't work. My companion went flailing. His/Her lovingly-crafted scarf, long clearly thanks to much time and effort, snapped. In tatters. And all my fault. The sight of it hurt me more than my own previous mishap. Would my companion blame me? Would he or she be dejected? Would I be abandoned? These thoughts raced through my head, but before they even had time to really solidify, my companion already sprang back up almost immediately. Pranced around and sang to let me know everything was fine. The relief I felt...it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
We got back on track and continued on our journey with what felt like a new understanding. It made that final stretch (again spoilers) of trudging through the snow, fighting our way to the cold top of the mountain, that much more impactful with all we've been through together. When we fell seemingly dead in the snow, I wasn't even disappointed. Our shared journey up to that point left me no regrets, we had our highs and lows, we did our best. I would've been content had it ended there. But then to be revived and experience that final surge to the top, that was magical. It was the perfect cap to this wholly unique experience, one that completely surprised and overwhelmed me with its emotion and human element.
It might not be my favorite game of the year, but I have a feeling my memory of it, all the emotions it evoked, will stay with me far beyond anything else I've played in 2012...or most any other year for that matter.
I think everyone is aware by now that, yes, it's a very, very pretty game, but what surprised me was actually the co-op component. I didn't even realize it HAD one, so imagine my shock when I suddenly saw another sand-surfer appear alongside me. It took only a moment to distinguish it as another human being as opposed to an NPC or AI character. There's no way to communicate either by voice or PM, yet the two of us still found a way to interact with movement and "singing". It was all very organic.
So I spent half the game with this other person adventuring with me, until he/she suddenly vanished. It happened right after this really energetic sand-surfing sequence...once the high of the moment had worn off, it suddenly hit me that my companion was no longer there. Simply vanished. A void by my side. I looked around everywhere, waited, sang dejectedly into the empty space, and eventually accepted that we somehow got split up and lost each other. It was startling how lonely I suddenly felt.
A bit later, another person did show up. I could tell instantly it was someone new by the different way he/she moved and acted, and obviously by how this person looked (waaay longer scarf and neat designs on the cloak). This person had clearly been playing this for a very long time and knew what to do, guiding me along efficiently and with a much clearer system of "singing". Interpreting what he/she meant somehow felt really clear and intuitive.
The highlight moment of this game for me (minor spoilers ahead) was this part where we had to stealthily sneak across this area with giant sand worms floating above us, patrolling with their natural spotlights. When we first entered the area, my companion and I ran directly under this cover structure. He/she stayed underneath it, while I brazenly ran forward, not realizing the spotlight was coming this way. My companion tried to warn me with repeated quick bursts of song notes, but while I stood out there in the open, trying to figure out what the person was trying to say, the sky suddenly turned red and the gravity of the situation instantly dawned on me. The huge, hulking sand worm had spotted me and came crashing down, dragged me along for a bit, then tossed me aside. It snapped my scarf. The scarf I've been building up all this time. Ruined. Back to square one. I was broken-hearted as I laid there in the sand. I refused to move or get up. My companion stood in silence. Watching me, clearly understanding how devastated I must be. He/she chirped once. Then again. Then ran over to me and jumped around, trying to get me back up and going.
Eventually I did, but I was still really bummed about what happened, not realizing it was actually being subconsciously conveyed in the way I was playing. I wasn't cheerfully bouncing around, swerving, and chirping like I usually was, and instead just droned on straight ahead, silently, with the occasional yelp to acknowledge I understood what the person was trying to direct. We've been moving along for a bit, me following right behind, until we suddenly stopped in our tracks. I didn't know what was up. I stared at the person, who had turned around to look at me, and waited for him/her to continue on so we can just finish up this journey of ours and get it over with. He/she suddenly started exuberantly singing and circling around me, jumping about and getting that ridiculously long scarf caught on me. At that moment, it hit me that my companion actually detected how I was feeling with my changed actions, and was trying to cheer me up. And it worked. Astounded by this little revelation, I responded by dancing along and we continued on, merrily.
Then another tragedy struck. I don't really understand how, but I accidentally found myself in another spotlight. The place went red again with impending doom. But the sand worm wasn't after me...it turned its attention and veered towards my companion instead. In that split second realization, I chirped in panic to alert him/her, then tried running into the giant sand worm's path, trying to get its attention back on me and make it come after me instead. It didn't work. My companion went flailing. His/Her lovingly-crafted scarf, long clearly thanks to much time and effort, snapped. In tatters. And all my fault. The sight of it hurt me more than my own previous mishap. Would my companion blame me? Would he or she be dejected? Would I be abandoned? These thoughts raced through my head, but before they even had time to really solidify, my companion already sprang back up almost immediately. Pranced around and sang to let me know everything was fine. The relief I felt...it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
We got back on track and continued on our journey with what felt like a new understanding. It made that final stretch (again spoilers) of trudging through the snow, fighting our way to the cold top of the mountain, that much more impactful with all we've been through together. When we fell seemingly dead in the snow, I wasn't even disappointed. Our shared journey up to that point left me no regrets, we had our highs and lows, we did our best. I would've been content had it ended there. But then to be revived and experience that final surge to the top, that was magical. It was the perfect cap to this wholly unique experience, one that completely surprised and overwhelmed me with its emotion and human element.
It might not be my favorite game of the year, but I have a feeling my memory of it, all the emotions it evoked, will stay with me far beyond anything else I've played in 2012...or most any other year for that matter.
.
