Zephyrus of the Anemoi

.the ramblings of a radman.

Month: October 2008 (Page 5 of 5)

The man in red knows something.

October 18, 2008 /

Purple pajamas… white shoes… ninjas for hire in New York City… Seriously. This one writes itself.

Ooohhhh! Crouchy.

There are three types of games you’re likely to see on this website. There are the games that are so incredible that I absolutely must tell you about them because I want you to have this wonderful experience that I did. There are the games that are so terrible, I have to warn you against them so that you don’t inadvertently spend money on utter crap cough-cough Moto Roader cough.

And then there are the games that I just happen to stumble across and simply must tell you about.

Wrath of the Black Manta is one of those games.

I recently came into possession of the NES on which my brother and I cut our teeth. This thing is so used that many games actually play more reliably if you leave the game in the “up” position, rather than the “down” position. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you didn’t own a NES, and you probably have no idea why you’re here. Thank you for coming. Please be quiet so as not to disturb the faithful.

One of the games that my brother had acquired since we stopped sharing everything was Black Manta. At first, I could only assume that this game would be horrendous beyond belief and that the person that last owned it was crying themselves to sleep in a mental institution trying to solve the riddle of a ninja wearing all purple in New York City.

The only way to describe this game properly is to show you. And so I shall…

I have never seen a phone actually ring like that.

The story of the game is told through a variety of cut-scenes composed of still images above text.

The first cut-scene starts off with your character receiving a phone call from your master. My first thought was of course, “Ninjas have phones?”

My second thought didn’t occur until the second or third time I played through the opening sequence.

And why am I looking through my pajama leg?

Clearly, ninjas do not need to sleep. But must Black Manta wear his ninja clothing in the middle of the night when ninja-ing is not actually occurring?

Of course he does, he’s a freakin’ ninja.

So the phone rings and then apparently your master teleports through the phone to land in your living room, because lo and behold, he’s right there in the next image.

Y’know, my name is actually Jim, right?

This is the part where I started to get bored, so I skipped past the rest. From what I was able to glean off the words flitting by, lots of children in New York are being kidnapped and the police and FBI are useless, as always.

So, being a ninja, you decide to put a stop to it. Why? Who the fuck knows? Your master just poofs into existence and suddenly you’re off killing guys in green jumpsuits firing guns at you.

Badly.

So once the gameplay begins, it quickly becomes apparent that you are more than a ninja, you are a superhero. You can jump the height of four oil drums without breaking a sweat, which is impressive in its own right. Further, you can summon forth fire balls to crawl across the ground and seek out your enemies, surround you for half a second to kill anyone that gets too close, launch across the screen to blow up those who oppose you, and generate an illusory ninja that stands on your head and throws real ninja stars.

Not even joking about the fact that your mirror image stands on your head. That has to be the most effective illusion ever.

The only drawback is that the game tries to show you that you have all of these abilities, but doesn’t bother to point out that you must hold down the attack button to trigger them. Thus, I spent the majority of the first game I played only throwing ninja stars and getting my ass kicked.

So you fight through the level, continually grabbing this tougher baddie in red to interrogate him, but apparently believing him every time he says he doesn’t know anything, choosing to let him go so that he can just run ahead 30 feet in the level to do it all over again. I mean, they don’t even bother recoloring him so that you can pretend its a different guy.

Honey! I blew up the midget!

When you do finally reach the end of the level, you find a note telling you that Tiny is waiting in the next building. Very convenient. When you enter the giant whole in the wall of the otherwise structurally sound abandoned warehouse in the middle of NYC, you find the largest dwarf ever birthed from the depths of Hell.

Being the largest dwarf in history has its advantages, but one-on-one combat is not one of them. Tiny, so infuriated by the fact that his disproportionate body makes him incredibly in-agile and therefore incapable of taking on a ninja, he throws a temper tantrum, leaping into the air and shaking the ground with such force upon landing that a single brick always falls directly on the head of our hero.

This is where not knowing how to use your ninja powers bites you in the ass.

Finally, once you’ve thrown enough ninja stars into Tiny’s chin that the giganto-dwarf goes down for the count, you are rewarded with another cut-scene. I didn’t bother reading this one, either. The man in red makes an appearance while he’s talking to his boss and Manta decides it is time to head to Tokyo.

You think this looks silly, I can throw ninja stars without letting go of the sheet.

For some odd reason, when he gets there, rather than walking across the ground to get to his location, he decides to stand on what looks remarkably like a building from the previous level in the middle of nowhere. Ninjas wearing blankets on their backs are soaring through the air at you and provide you with the perfect opportunity to steal one and practice your ninja blanket-surfing skills.

This is pretty much the point where I gave up for the night, as suddenly I was accosted by a hundred green ninjas with blankets of their own that are capable of performing dogfighting maneuvers while throwing fireballs at you. After the sixth time I had died, I realized I had all I need to review this game.

So, what’s the verdict? is Wrath of the Black Manta a game worth owning? If it ever hits the Virtual Console, I highly recommend picking it up. You can’t beat the $5 price tag that it would wear and it’s certainly a lot of fun. The first level is a little challenging until you pick up the control scheme and realize the most effective way to kill the enemies is to wait until they run right up to you and you can stab ‘em up close and personal.

If you can find it on the NES, I recommend it, as well. While not as lasting as other ninja games, like Ninja Gaiden, the ability to use so many powers, and methods to increase your life from three hits to eight through the course of a level makes the game much easier, if a bit hokey.

I know I will be trying to finish the game in the coming weeks, and can definitely recommend it to a friend without feeling like I’m secretly punishing them.

(Originally posted August 19, 2007)

Twitter Kombat

October 17, 2008 /

One of my favorite things about twitter are the strange sort of half-conversations that occur over a period of hours between people. This is one such example.

pfhobia: This is the part where you fall down.

zepfhyr: Those were $500 sunglasses, asshole!

christykay: Are you two quoting f*cking Mortal Kombat!?! How am I friends with you!?!?!

pfhobia: Mortal Kombat is the greatest movie ever made about a video game about a death sport tournament on the snes and genesis.

Wanderings

October 17, 2008 /

This story, like any other, is about a girl. All my stories are. It’s not that I have a one-track mind, or that I’m so desperate that I can’t think about anything but girls. Nothing like that. No, this story, and all others, are about girls for one very important reason. That’s what the audience likes to hear.

One very bright and sunny spring day, I was wandering home from school. I say wandering because I had decided, for the first time of many, that heading straight home was altogether boring. I saw the same buildings, the same cars, the same people, the same rocks. I wanted to see something new. So I wandered.

In my hometown, it’s easy to wander. In small towns it always is. Backyards are rarely off-limits, and when they are, it becomes a challenge to sneak through, anyway. Front yards are just as passable, and if you cross the right yards, you just might find a tree worth climbing. Wandering, however, is not just a rambling and a shuffling in any old direction you choose. Oh, no. There’s a science to it. If you ever catch yourself heading in the direction of home for too long, you have to immediately change directions. Sometimes this can put you in a bit of a pickle, what with thorn bushes, fences, and the occasional guard dog. But once you’ve decided to wander, you’ve got to stick to your guns. You can’t change your mind just because of an obstacle.

On this particular day, I was wandering exceptionally well. I’d managed to cross an enormous mud puddle and only got my sneaker a little wet. My hand was muddy, but that’s what jeans are for. Mother would probably have something to say about me coming home late, anyway, so I didn’t care too much about the jeans.

I was about half-way home and still had at least 15 minutes of wandering left when I stumbled through a backyard that had changed abruptly since my last wandering through it. The house had once belonged to an old woman, but I heard rumors at church that she’d died and the house was for sale. Whispering old ladies loved to talk about other old ladies. I never usually paid them much attention, but I’d pick up the pieces here and there. The backyard was full of wonders I’d never seen there before. There was a brand new swing set and an old tricycle. There was even the beginnings of a new sandbox.

Now, normally I’m not one for playing with toys. I’ve been the man of the house ever since dad went away, and men don’t have time to play. But the sight of those toys still filled me with awe. I heard a screen door open and I quickly hid in the bushes at the edge of the backyard. I heard a woman’s voice from inside the house say, “Don’t get too dirty. We have company coming tonight.”

“Okay, mom,” came the reply. My heart sank in my chest. It was a girl. I realized then that I would not be coming over to play here. Girls and boys don’t play together, so men and girls certainly don’t play together.

She came around the corner of the house and plopped herself down into one of the swings. She was wearing a pink dress. I know you’d like a better description, but that is the best I can give you, as boys don’t usually pay much attention to girls’ dresses. Men pay even less.

She sat on the swing and looked pretty sad. A strange tingle went down the base of my spine and she quickly looked up at the bushes where I was hiding. No, not at the bushes. Directly at me. Somehow she could see exactly where I was. More than that, she could feel it.

“You can come out, now. I know you’re there,” she said, and turned her head away from the bushes. She sat that way for several seconds and I knew that she would stay that way until I stepped out of the bushes myself.

So I did.

Slowly I walked toward her and when I was about three arm-lengths away, I stopped. Three arm-lengths is the safe distance to avoid cooties from girls. Jimmy taught me that. Jimmy was my best friend before I became a man. We’re still friends, but men and boys don’t play together. Men don’t play at all.

“I’m Kira,” said the girl. “What’s your name?”

I’d never heard the name Kira before.

“John,” I replied. I’d heard the name John a lot.

The girl didn’t say anything. She just sat there on her swing.

“You have mud on your jeans,” she said. I looked down at the mud on my jeans and for the first time felt as though jeans weren’t meant to be dirty. I didn’t know what to say. “Would you like to push me?” she asked.

Boys don’t play with girls. Men don’t play at all. But men push girls in swings all the time. That’s not playing. That’s helping. Men help.

“Sure,” I said.

I started pushing her, softly at first, but slowly picking up speed. She didn’t say anything, but she closed her eyes and smiled as the wind blew her curly, blond hair back. When I started to push her really fast, she began to giggle.

“Higher, John!” she cried out. I pushed as hard as I can. I pushed harder than I’d ever pushed before.

When I thought she couldn’t go any higher, she suddenly jumped out of the swing. The smile that had crept across my face as I was pushing her quickly vanished as I watched her soar through the air. I’d never seen anyone jump out of a swing at that height before. It was dangerous.

She landed on the ground and crumpled into a ball. She didn’t move.

I waited.

She still didn’t move.

I ran to her side and knelt by her and shook her shoulder. “Kira! Kira, are you okay?” I asked, frantically. She rolled over and looked at me with one eye, the other squeezed tightly shut. She was grinning.

“That was fun,” she said. I felt a grin break out across my face, my fear forgotten now that I knew she was alright. “You should come over and play again tomorrow.”

She got up, brushed herself off and ran inside. The swing was still swaying from being pushed so hard. I turned to it and stopped its movement. Men don’t play at all. But boys do play with girls. Maybe I could still be a boy sometimes.

I ran all the way home, without wandering. From that day on, whenever I could wander, I always made sure to wander into that backyard.

Mixed messages?

October 17, 2008 /

Help Zeph get back to his point and get a free copy of CGS posted online, just for you!

Click click click click CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK!!!

So I’m out browsing around the Interweb, and I come across a strange advertisement (seen above). Now, I’m what you would call a video game enthusiast. I’ve played a few rounds of Halo in my life. Not once have I ever seen it available on any Sony device, let alone the Playstation 3.

Does anyone aside from me think that this ad was put together by someone knowing absolute dick about video games? I think they missed the perfect opportunity to put an ad next to it of Mario stomping on Goombas that says “Help Mario jump on all these little brown things and win a free trip to Guatemala”?

“Help the Playstation buttons find their way through the Forest of Lost Atari Games and pick up some GTA hookers while simultaneously driving a go kart through the Mushroom Kingdom and Dance Dance Revolution-ing your way to the top of the Mortal Kombat tournament to face off against Solid Snake in a one-on-one game of Wii Boxing and win a free* assload of spam direct to your inbox and no hope of ever actually winning one of our illustrious prizes.”

*see terms & rules (content not actually free, except for when it is incredibly annoying and distracting, like penis enlargement ads, which are not to be mistaken for free penis enlargement treatment)

Wow. That one got away from me, a bit.

Okay, so I was going to post about some games, but got lost in there somewhere, and the therapy is going to take the rest of the day. So, instead, I’m gonna hit you with a list of great games I’m going to be talking about soon: Kid Icarus, Paper Mario, Clash at Demonhead.

It is safe to pick up and play any of these games without fear of irreparable mental anguish. Again, I remind you that my purpose here is to dissuade you from playing shit (i.e. Moto Roader).

So… go enjoy your day. I’m gonna get back to my “research”.

(Originally posted August 17, 2007)

Iris

October 17, 2008 /

They came on very quickly. Even with his superior reflexes, he nearly didn’t react soon enough. The first one fell on him from above. Rising as quickly as he could, Zephyr rolled out of the way, directly into the second one. It was waiting.

And that was the only way to describe them. “It.” They were clearly not human. Zephyr chuckled inwardly at the thought. He knew that humans were a lot less common than they realized. Many even believed themselves to be human and were not. Some, of course, knew what they were. The Anemoi had known for millennia. That knowledge had allowed them to protect the planet for some time.

But these things didn’t even appear to be human. They were quite clearly something different. Something new.

Someone had been busy.

Nearby, a scream split Zephyr’s thoughts in two, and his reflexes faltered.

Iris. Zephyr’s instincts had caused him to forget her briefly, and a third one had appeared and grabbed hold of her from behind. He turned toward the scream, prepared to rush to her aid, when the second one took advantage of the opportunity.

Lights blossomed behind Zephyr’s eyes. These guys hit hard, he thought to himself as he crumpled to the ground, a feint. The second one stepped in, eagerly. With his eyes still closed, Zephyr kicked out and up, snapping the thing’s head back with a sickening crack. His third eye, the one that could see everything, was satisfied that it would not stand back up.

One down.

“Zeph, help!”

Zephyr’s eyes fluttered open. The first one was missing, but the third was busy dragging Iris away. Zephyr rushed toward her, but was snagged from behind. The first one had slipped around behind him and it’s grip was deathly tight. Zephyr twisted and heaved, trying to break free, but found no way out.

“Sweetie, no…”

Iris’s voice had changed. It was softer, calming. She was no longer panicked. Zephyr looked up to see that the third had let her go and was standing idly by. Zephyr’s confusion radiated and Iris seemed to bask in it momentarily, a sad smile breaking out on her face. She approached him and placed a hand upon his cheek. Zephyr looked into her eyes and his heart shattered. There was no welcoming glance, no loving look from one who had claimed to love him. Only betrayal. For a brief moment a look of regret flickered across her face and vanished, to that place where suppressed emotions go, never to return. But it was in his head. It stayed there, and he treasured it for the rest of his life, knowing that a part of her still truly loved him.

Iris leaned in and kissed him on the lips, her tongue probing. His lips parted without thinking and his tongue suddenly felt a pinprick. He jerked back, the taste of blood in his mouth. The thing holding him shoved him to the ground at a nod from his love.

Zephyr struggled to his feet. The drug was working quickly. Too quickly.

What did she hit me with?

His mind reeled and his body faltered. He was strong, always had been, but even this drug was more powerful than he was prepared for.

“Iris…”

She appeared before him. His lover and betrayer.

“I forgive you.”

The world went away for a long time, and Zephyr found rest for the first time in months. A longer look of regret crossed her face, but Zephyr did not see it to take with him, and the two with her didn’t live long enough to inform their master that it ever occurred.

Brothers

October 16, 2008 /

And suddenly, the light comes on. Paralyzing.

Zephyr finds himself staring into a small sun at the core of the room. His eyes, so well adjusted to the darkness never flinch. They are moths drawn to the flaming near-vacuum-encased filament. Burning away everything that makes them unique.

His eyes focus—relaxing, recovering, remembering what they are, their purpose, their teeny little place in this grand universe of insignificant pieces combining into even more insignificant wholes—upon a table.

No, not on the table. On the thing laying on the table.

He struggles to his feet, the paralyzing effect of the disorientation wearing off, and places one hand on the table for support. Dizzying images swim through his head, a nightmare of recent memories and fearsome probable futures ransack his brain, seeking a perch to call their own.

At least one is successful.

He sees a name slip in and out of focus on the cover of the folder on the table in front of him.

Brother, he says in that part of the mind that realizes things just a split-second before the rest, what have I done?

Frantically, he tears open the folder, scattering the malcontent pages to the wind. Zephyr finds what he is searching for and holds it up to the light, daring it to crumble to dust before his face under the searing heat so that he can pretend it’s not real.

But he is not so lucky. And neither is the one whose name is scrawled across the paper, a death certificate.

“Euri, no.”

He always was the unlucky one, he thinks.

Zephyr spins as he hears the creak of disused metal behind him. A door he’d not yet noticed opens and a familiar face enters the room.

Not a welcome face, but a familiar one, nevertheless.

“Zephyr.”

“Notu,” is his curt reply.

“Are you okay?”

Zephyr’s fist tightens reflexively around the morbid piece of paper in his left hand. Instinctively, he considers rushing the man standing before him. He also knows that to do so would be a terrible mistake. Determined to show no weakness, Zephyr nods his head. Slowly.

“I’m choosing to believe you,” comes the dry reply from Notu. “After all, if you can’t trust your family–”

“The last of my family is dead by your hand!”

“Brother…” Notu, with deliberate slowness that lends a poisonous air to his actions, begins picking up the papers from the file and placing them back in their obsessive compulsive home. “Let’s not fight today. I haven’t seen you in years and there is so much for us to talk about.”

Notu finishes gathering the papers and places the file on the table between Zephyr and himself. He motions to a chair for Zephyr to sit in.

“Please, let’s do begin,” Notu says, smiling.

His smile eats itself and Zephyr Anemoi begins to cry.

[plinker heading=”Like my writing? Check out some of my other posts.”]

Welcome to CGS

October 16, 2008 /

Total Recall, easily one of the worst games I’ve ever played, is redeemable for only one reason… Virtual glory-holes.

Thanks to Retroforce Go! for helping me discover this.

 

Are you punching me in the face, or offering me some sexy, sexy man-meat?

 

Welcome to the first (reposted) issue of Classic Gaming Sporadically.

This is just a space where I will throw up reviews and thoughts on whatever game I happen to be playing at the moment. I also plan to review new games released onto the Virtual Console in an attempt to protect those of you out there from buying shit.

Like Moto Roader.

I will be experimenting with the format and the theme as I try to find something that works for me, and hopefully for you, as well.

Check back often!

(Originally posted August 15, 2007)

New blog

October 16, 2008 /

Okay, testing, testing…

I set up this blog as a way to concatenate the rest of my bloggings and bloglings into one place. The hope is that if I do this the right way here, I can keep it for a long time and be satisfied with my blogging experience. Plus, I can update from my iPhone for free.

I will be bringing over blog entries from my various other locations over time. I will try to preserve them as much as possible, but some may be heavily modified, regardless. I’m still trying to decide if Classic Gaming Sporadically will be integrated into this blog or morphed into a separate identity. I’ll start with bringing it here just to test it out (UPDATE: It has been integrated).

So, anyway, make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the show.

Oh, if you’re viewing from an iPhone, I would love feedback on the plug-in I’m using for the content. It’s not the most commonly used interface, but it has a lot of power so if there are things you’d like to see differently, I appreciate all feedback.

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