So basically, if you ask me if I like creepypastas (specifically the game-related ones) my honest answer would be mostly no-but kind of yes? 'No' as in pushing away all the usual gunk (mostly based around Sonic and Sonic influence) that repeats the formula of protagonist is now the bad guy- you play as a cast of three usually made up of player 2's and 3's, minor characters, and/or antagonists; going to the right of the screen until they inevitably die. The rare instance of 'yes' extends out to the non-humorous parodies of older franchises that becomes much more than 'recoloring Sonic.exe by picking another franchise from a hat' or 'angry dead sibling of the player haunts the game' plot; and rather works as a twisted character study of the original plot or gameplay.
eugg so basically this is my study and perspective on the right way to twist a protagonist into a compelling and threatening antagonist/villain
I've got three examples of what I think working character studies look like, and I'll list them off from least violent to the most. Just a warning, the last one gets pretty bad. The first one only has one instance of gore that I know of, and it's not in your face at all.
*Spoilers and gameplay links for all. Feel free to play any of them before reading*
1.(Maybe FW? Slight gore and violence, disturbing) To begin, we'll talk about "Q*Bert Arcade" by Tarkan809 on Gamejolt. The game itself is fairly simple and not too far from home from the original arcade game (As the title might allude to and accidently trick you with). There are noticeable differences that will likely throw the player off, such as the fact that you're playing as one of the enemy Coilies(the snake), and the lack of enemies or atmospheric sound effects in the first stage. It's off and isolated, but not a blaring sign of danger. What really throws the game off is the completion of stage 1, as both the music and screen distort in an unsettling matter. Nonetheless, nothing at this point is added, as the majority of what is seen is edited-or enhanced, if you will, from the original material. There's no blaring red flags like unfitting music from another franchise, or the villain being revealed in the first impression of the title sequence. You are given this atmosphere that is built to remain close to 'normal'- allowing for the small differences to be twice as effective in the creep factor.
From the second level onward, we're introduced to the one new element to the narrative; Q*bert. To my knowledge, the game is just called 'Q*bert Arcade' and not something like Q*bert.exe-as every let's play YouTuber calls it; Q*bert's design isn't the typical addition of predatory features. There's no pitch black eyes with red pupils, there's no sharp teeth or claws (although idk how that would work on Q*bert in the first place). Instead, Q*bert's typical look is enhanced with humanoid-like features, with a soulless expression. You can't really tell it off the bat however, as the same glitch effect does fairly well at hiding his design-whether or not you decide to hide away. While I don't believe that hiding the monster's appearance is a mandatory move, but playing with the fear of the unknown is always unique and effective nonetheless. What I really like about this game is that there's no text appearing out of nowhere and explaining the personality and motives of the character right away.
Despite the presence of the character, it's still staying fairly true to the original material. All you hear from the character is his typical jumbled up text-to-speech voice; not being too off from the original use, but being an affective spook-factor in a different setting.
I also just noticed this, but there's a subtle detail between the first level and when Q*bert shows up; as you may notice that the Coily's expression changes from neutral to worried as soon as the stage turns orange (I think. I don't think I'm seeing things. But if it's not, it's doing its job in making me think I'm seeing things)
The death scenes in the gameplay aren't overly violent or out of character, as the voice and screen just distort severely and restart. There's room for gameplay, and nothing (to my knowledge) is removed in the controls for the sake of the enemy magically catching up. The game ends on a level mostly without Q*bert- only showing up when the player completes their part.
What I like most about the antagonist character is that the writing isn't afraid to show it expression emotions. Though it might sound like I'm constantly bashing on the Sonic.exe character, I'm not- but the tropes the character is always associated with often don't leave much room for anything but what he-and others like him- are usually associated with. By most X is shown to have two emotions; Soulless happy/pleased/amused or soulless angry. Either way, the character more often than not gets his way in the end- so it doesn't effect his choices and mannerisms. Q*bert's emotions-however-effect the plot greatly. There's no overpowered god-like presence- as much as there is a theme of human-like emotion and pettiness. While in his somber mood, Q*bert plays fair with the player- even to the point of jumping off if they manage to hide away in time. He's fast, but works by foot and not random supernatural tendencies.
His human-like nature gets to him by the end of the demo, causing him to angrily throw the Coily in a rage-fit- smashing them against the ground and chewing off the tip of their tail. There's no cheap jump-scares and loud noises. There's also no need for fourth-wall breaks to make sure the player feels threatened. The blood and violence is minimized to just one stroke of action. It's not about cramming in the shock factor- its goal is to simulate a fear of what this arcade game is, what has has happened to it, and what it can become.
To my knowledge, there isn't much of an explanation behind this other than the player is likely a kid in an old arcade that sneaks into the backroom while everyone else is on their phones. Someone said it's based on a creepypasta with a cabinet-man-like premise, but idk if that's true.
I think it's neat nonetheless.
2. (Slight gore, loud scares, and FW) The next example is more of a character study of an alternate universe/route than it is a creepypasta attempting to convince you it's a real thing. Gimmick! (Window's 98 Edition) or 'YUME.EXE' by Diplocaule on Gamejolt appears to be a startling but effective route in making the audience fear the original. Taken side-by-side, YUME.EXE and Gimmick! go alongside similar plotlines. Both introduce the premise beginning on a young girl's birthday, opening the gift of a strange and small creature as her special surprise. In the original route, the girl is thrilled with the gift of Yumetaro-likely favoring them over her old toys and making them jealous.
However, YUME.EXE displays an AU in which the young girl isn't pleased with her special gift- and just places it on her cabinet to catch dust. The once magical abilities and origins of the character are turned against the girl- making it clear that she has made a terrible fiend. The other toys are removed, and she is taken to an unfamiliar world twisted from the original material. The traits of the original protagonist being an attention-loving creature with magical powers allowing it to travel between worlds is an excellent trait to be elaborated further upon in another light. The logic makes sense with the established world, and the motives become clear in perspective.
This time, you play as the girl; trapped in a bleak 3-D void-unsure of what is to happen next. The jealous creature catches up eventually. Text and jump scares are used in this one, but tastefully. The theme is brash and intense- simulating a fear of resentment and anger. A aggressive feeling is established and exposed- like a wound rotting terribly the more the player attempts to search around. While it's 3-D and likely an attempt to simulate realism in the player, the environment isn't pulled out of character at all- as the textures are pixelated. The text urges the girl to go back to where she started, revealing a waiting 'YUMI' crawling out of the darkness to lunge at her. It likely impales her somehow, causing her to fall down while slowly dying. The background changes to its usual happy-theme, simulating a feeling of joy in her death as she slowly bleeds out. After a quick jumpscare, the protagonist role swapes back to 'YUMI' and its usual gameplay style. Going forward, the character stumbles upon the poor girl's body, and slowly begins to smile.
To my knowledge; there's no 'real-life' name drops that set this up as another 'real victim stuck in a game' scenario, but simulating the same fear by implying the hidden pettiness and ironic villainy in an already established character if choices are made differently. In that way, the original route is seen as the best choice, as her original toys are now seen as the far-lesser two evils.
3. (Very violent, loud jumpscares, FW, disturbing) Alright, so Adventure Island.exe by Anomalocalis on Gamejolt is a gory, but great example both adding a themes and setting an AU to the original story, without being too crowded (albeit it is very overwhelming, but intentionally). Both games start of just about the same- not changing until you approach the enemies. For context (to what I understand) the original Adventure Island is a basic platform game, allowing for the player to occasionally pick up random-but-wacky powerups from eggs, such as skateboard gear-or maybe even Fairies. The spoof removes the cartoonish theme and logic, weighing in on the reality of man becoming a destructive menace in nature -possessed or not. Beginning the game, the narrative establishes personality points by showing the enemies fleeing as soon as the player comes to the screen. The gameplay is slower, and almost simulating a destructive weight that the original Higgins didn't have before. The first red flags aren't scares or glitches, but rather just key detail changes in the enemies behavior. Also another detail is that the points do nothing, but I'm not sure what that could mean other than maybe a theme of gluttony?...
Again, the realistic behaviors in the character set in an expectedly unrealistic environment brings a subtle unsettling feeling, even if when the scares aren't happening.
The level comes to an end, and the mechanism of the egg is finally teased. Going further and collecting the egg, a spirit emerges and potentially possesses Higgins. Themes of Higgins playing along with long awaited tribal rituals and sacrifices is brought to the narrative, as an unnamed narration encourages him to explore it further. This could symbolize man's nature to destroy, establish, and obtain power over the value of life. We often have a natural habit to find gods to praise, or even go as far to attempt to become one. This theme seems very prominent in this character study- as seeing how the original material works off of a semi-implied civilized man (assuming from the ballcap) fighting off wildlife in the jungle.
The game restarts, beginning the second act. The title shows once again, but with the subtle animation of Higgin's face changing and smiling upon the player. The cult-like affirmations towards Higgins are seen again just before the level starts. The level doesn't require anything more than to go forward. Higgins is slow and silently fuming behind the shadows. Enemies flee, but are destroyed by the touch. Likely because of his choice, life is easier- lessening the need for platforms and jumping. However, because of this, he begins to lose his humanity.
A sacrifice is demanded, and he does so by capturing and violently smashing to death one of the fairies. Furthering the power requires no love or remorse, likely being something replaced by asserting authority.
This act likely ends with the 'power' killing him with no pay-off, despite what is promised. He's no longer in the menu. Heaven no longer has its goal or purpose, and is described as something he personally has to obtain-likely through his violent means. The game resumes normally until it ends in a jumpscare. Perhaps displaying that his standards of killing have no exception on another human.
Rather than a playful spoof, or alternate set of choices queuing in the butterfly effect; Higgin's personality is fleshed out by inserting some new elements; displaying a semi-accurate depiction of the narrative, and showing the protagonist submitting to the natural human urge to indulge and assert power over those below them.
Summary: When writing your spook spoof, remember to play with elements that compliment and explore each character; rather than just resorting to what everybody else did, or what's going to create the most shock factor.
(Also, keep this in mind; Sonic.exe is going to work for Sonic because it's often a play on 'what if the fastest thing alive wasn't on the good side'. Doing the exact same thing to, eh-idk, Kirby isn't going to work because speed isn't an element that makes Kirby threatening...) (That I know of. You would go with the fact that he eats people and gains their power, I assume....)
K. Hope my ramblings help out somebody at some point. Anyways, have a great day/night!
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Once, Always
(Edmund has an abundance of birthdays)
.
“I say,” murmured Edmund sleepily as the fire burned low. “When do you suppose it is here? I mean—what time of year? Do you think it’s the beginning of September, the same as it was in England?”
“Summer,” said Lucy. “Certainly summer.”
Peter agreed. “I think it must be Highgrass, if I had to guess. Perhaps later. Greenroof?”
“If it’s Greenroof, then Edmund gets another birthday,” Lucy sighed. “Eleven or twelve, Ed?”
“Neither,” put in Susan. “A thousand, if you’re going to rationalize it that way. Now everyone hush, please, and get some sleep.”
.
Edmund’s birthday was the fifteenth day of Greenroof by the Narnian reckoning. Greenroof, late summer, when all the leaves were dark and broad. Narnian summers were long, but Greenroof was the last and best of the summer months. Greenroof was hunts through the dense foliage, blackberries heavy with juice, lazy afternoons, bonfires, wild romps, and the pleasant kind of sweat. Edmund’s birthday celebrations were always held on Dancing Lawn in the old days: the sort of long, laughter-bright nights that summer was made for.
.
The second time Edmund celebrated his eleventh birthday, it was just past three months since he and his siblings had returned home from the country. Their house was glass-strewn and battered, but still standing when they arrived home. By August it was beginning to feel really safe again, but sometimes Edmund still woke in the night to find his mother standing silent in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her two sons returned to her.
The professor sent one of Ivy’s famous spice cakes for Edmund’s birthday. It arrived tied in red string, which made Lucy reminisce fondly about dear Mr. Tumnus. Edmund’s siblings pooled their allowances to buy him the new Nero Wolfe detective novel, and his mother gave him a new cap and an electric torch.
“How do you feel?” his mother asked over dinner.
“I don’t feel any older, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Eleven feels just the same as ten did yesterday.”
.
All four of them missed their birthdays the first year in Narnia. Too much else was going on at the time, and none of them was quite sure when their birthdays were supposed to be besides. The measurement of time was a thoroughly tangled issue.
The Narnian year had four hundred days even, divided into fourteen months of inconsistent lengths. Furthermore, the kingdom had only known winter for the last hundred years. The Narnians themselves were still remembering how the calendar worked in a world where the seasons changed. They didn’t have the words yet to explain it to their sovereigns.
.
“Eustace,” said Edmund, “your journal is wrong.”
“Give me that,” Eustace scowled at once. “I know it’s wrong, but there’s no need to rub my face in it. Aren’t I trying to make up for how I was?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. The month is wrong. You’ve got September written here, but time works differently in Narnia than it does in the Other Place. Haven’t you noticed that it’s summer, not autumn?”
“Oh.” Eustace shrugged. “I followed Occam’s Razor and assumed that the climate here was different rather than time itself.”
“Occam’s what?” This was Lucy.
“Occam’s Razor: the simplest solution to a problem is the most likely—never mind. Well, go on, what month is it?”
“Highgrass,” said Lucy.
“July,” said Edmund at the same moment. “More or less.”
.
They worked it all out one afternoon as the second spring of their reign was ending. Peter and Susan wrote out the English calendar on one stack of parchment while Edmund and Lucy sat down with the Narnian calendar and penciled in seasonal markers as best they could manage.
“The first crocuses came up right at the end of Cleardome, yes?”
“Yes, I think so. And the snowdrops were in their full glory that month too.”
“How do you want to deal with leap year?”
“Just forget about it. Narnia doesn’t have anything similar, so I think twenty-eight days for February is fine for our purposes.”
“Magnolia in Laceveil, yes?”
“Laceveil is a good marker in general. We ought to set that as May and go from there.”
Birthdays were guesses, no matter how much counting they did. Yet as memories of England receded and Narnia’s world blossomed into everything they knew, those guesses solidified into fact. Edmund turned eleven for the first time on the fifteenth day of Greenroof. He was the first of his siblings to celebrate a proper birthday in Narnia.
.
The fourth time Edmund turned twelve, he received another electric torch to replace the one he’d lost. He laughed for half a minute, holding that gift in his hand.
“Really, you should have expected it,” said Susan primly.
"I did."
Their mother tsked and added something about keeping track of one’s belongings, but that was alright. His siblings understood.
Edmund flicked on the light and watched the beam land on the far wall across the living room. Bright at the edges and dark towards the center where the bulb was. He moved his wrist sideways and watched the spot of light follow.
.
Edmund might have forgotten about his birthday aboard the Dawn Treader if Lucy hadn’t remembered. She conspired with the cook to have a spread of Edmund’s favorite foods at supper (such as could be managed at sea) and coerced Rynelf into playing jigs on his fiddle afterwards. While they were dancing, Caspian called for a cask of his best wine, and soon the ship’s whole company was making merry like only Narnians could.
“Didn’t you have a twelfth birthday the last time you were in Narnia?” Caspian asked curiously as the party was dying down.
“Yes,” Edmund replied, “and the time before that too. Confused yet?”
“Ed has all the luck,” Lucy pouted playfully. “We always seem to return to Narnia in the summer, so he gets all the extra birthdays.”
Caspian's face lit up. “How extraordinary! When’s yours then?”
“Cleardome. There’s a year and a half between Ed and me, and he never lets me forget it.”
“It’s really not as exciting as all that,” Edmund added. “We’re not living our lives backwards, or unstuck in time, or any such nonsense. It’s more like—our lives are folded in on themselves, you see? But never the same way twice.”
“I think it’s more like music than anything else,” Lucy said, a kind of fond wistfulness in her voice.
“Yes,” said Edmund. “I know what you mean.”
.
On the thirteenth of Greenroof, the Telmarines laid down their arms and surrendered to Old Narnia. The next day, messengers were sent forth across the land with news of the surrender and with terms for the Telmarines. Caspian’s coronation followed, and then Edmund woke and it was his birthday again.
Breakfast that morning was long and languid, for Peter and Susan knew that they must say farewell to Narnia, even if the younger ones did not. They lingered round the table with Caspian and Trumpkin and the rest, and presently Peter offered a toast.
“To my brother King Edmund, who is eleven and twelve and sixty-three and thirteen hundred years old today.”
Everyone raised their cups and repeated, “King Edmund.” Caspian nodded and added, “Long live the king,” with an almost ironic tilt to his head.
Naturally, Edmund nodded back. “And to you, King Caspian. Long may you reign.”
Another round of assent followed, and then Lucy cleared her throat. “But also,” she said, “To late summer and the rebirth of Our Narnia. And to the land, the sea, the hills, the trees, the sky, Cair Paravel-by-the-sea and Dancing Lawn and all the flowers that are still in bloom. And to the color green. To all of us here today, and to those who are gone. And to Aslan.”
“Here, here.”
There were tears in Susan’s eyes now. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and squeezed Edmund’s hand tight. Edmund looked down at his plate, fiercely overcome with love for this place and these people. In a strict, chronological sense, it had been less than a month since his last birthday, but how did the saying go? Time was just a tangled string, or falling snow, or whatever else Aslan told it to be.
.
“Bother,” said Edmund, “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.”
Everyone chuckled at this, but Susan said, “Wait a year. We’ll get you a new one for your next birthday.”
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wait omg i’m curious about your unpopular thoughts about temenos writing wise.. i love when people discuss octopath writing it’s really enriching to see what we all have to say about certain story elements. plus you’re like a temenos representative to me. your thoughts about temenos make me go “so true!”
Aw, thank you! It took a while for me to decide on what to write here, since honestly I could go on for… frankly any aspect of this guy, especially in regards to treatment in fanon. But for now, I'll focus on my thoughts regarding how people treat tragedy in Temenos' story— namely, Crick's death— and why I personally dislike it as a writing decision and why I disagree with the idea that it is necessary.
Note: Goes without saying, but this is my personal opinion. If you believe otherwise, then that's all good. I'm not writing this to say that any one person is wrong, just to talk about an issue I have with the game's writing itself.
To start, I'll say that my main reason for disliking Crick's death in SH route is a matter of practicality. Killing him off causes Temenos to lose the main person that he had a fantastic relationship and banter with, and in my opinion, Temenos works best when he's bouncing off another person; not unlike most under the Sherlock-archetype.
Also, genuinely? It works wonders to keep Crick alive, if just because it provides a fantastic avenue to explore Temenos' institutional trauma. Having a character that's lived a different experience but within the same harmful institution opens up ways to explore the scope of its harm. And yes, this is for Crick specifically; not Ort, not the travelers, but Crick.
I think it really adds something that Temenos was raised by the church while Crick converted as a teenager during a really difficult time in his life. These two are good for each other. Crick sure as hell makes it a lot easier to write Temenos in fic.
(If you have a different experience, again, that's cool. I'm glad for you. I, however, will never fail to take the easy way out.)
(This is a lie, I'm over here making up fantasy church law for fic stuff but that's not related to this answer.)
I won't pretend that disliking Crick's death is an unpopular opinion. I mean, "Stormhail Fix-it" is an entire genre of fic on the OT2 Ao3 tag. What I do feel tends to go unaddressed though, is the fact that the idea that Crick's death is canon, therefore it is necessary, therefore it is the best decision; an idea that I wholeheartedly disagree with.
Within the text itself, Crick is killed off in order to give Temenos a personal reason to pursue Kaldena, thus putting him at odds with Kaldena's motivations being driven by her ideology and worldview that, "because humans committed the massacre, it was the gods' mistake to put us here". I also won't pretend that Kaldena's writing here isn't fucking awful, because Crick's death is also a device to make the player want Kaldena defeated even though she is just as much as a victim of the church; and that's to say nothing of her portrayal as an indigenous and dark-skinned woman.
These decisions are ones I disagree with. Killing Crick off was unnecessary to give Temenos reason to pursue the culprit, because Temenos already had someone close to him killed; and that's Pontiff Jörg. He raised Temenos from infancy, but due to the lack of focus on him outside of banter conversations, it's never relevant to his motivations outside of the desire for truth because a crime was committed.
We also didn't need to kill Crick off to show that the church was a terrible institution, because Roi already went missing in action. The Sacred Guard is the main body of law within Eastern Solistia, it's not unreasonable to think that the reason why Temenos dislikes them is because they clearly didn't do shit to investigate his disappearance.
However, one thing I really don't agree with is the idea that Crick's death is necessary because Temenos' story is a tragedy. And if you asked me why, I'd ask this in turn: why is death the only form of tragedy? Furthermore, why must a tragedy contain only tragic events? That in mind, what gives anything value in a tragedy, then?
Pretend we cannot completely rewrite Temenos' story. Even then, changing Crick's death to a permanent injury, a coma, or whatever is still a tragic event; and that's nothing to say of living with the consequences. Isn't losing your faith a tragedy? Isn't losing something you worked for years to do a tragedy?
Similarly, I'd still argue that it's more valuable to make Stormhail a near-death experience because not only does it show Temenos succeeding in making someone question the church but also the terror that is feeling like you're doomed to repeat tragedy. Even if you really aren't, it's hard to dismiss that feeling; especially when it has to do with being victimized by institutions.
And before someone says, "but bad things happen to good people in real life", I'm not treating these characters as living, breathing people who are subject to things like gravity, hunger, and exhaustion. I'm treating them as choices, and choices made that I disagree with.
It's why I make different choices. I choose to make Crick have to deal with chronic pain onwards. I choose to make Temenos realize change is still possible. I choose to let them both leave Stormhail alive. Are these better choices? I don't know. But I'll never stop questioning the ones made by the writers regardless; much less stop disagreeing with them.
So, in summary: I dislike Crick's death. I dislike Temenos having to spend the rest of the story without someone he can talk to so easily because Crick's absence weakens a lot of his scenes in Temenos 4. But more than that, I dislike the idea that tragedy is necessary on top of the idea that it is superior. Tragedy's good, I adore the genre; but written in mindful doses and all that.
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