omg wait did i forget to post my model sheet on here?
this is dahlia! she's been an oc of mine since like... 2020??? and here's her if she were in wonder boy! this is based on the dotemu remake (which is really good and you should try out!!!) and mostly this concept art for wonder girl!
i really love this game! my dad was a massive fan of it back when he was a kid and he'd play it in front of me, so, when we found the reboot, we tried it out and it was brilliant!
ALSO!! you'll notice generally when it comes to my taste in games, a large portion of what i like consists of sega/playstation classics. you can thank my dad for that.
rant aside, i'm currently using this model sheet to practice character modelling in blender! it's terrifying and horrible. i love it! /gen
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Wonder Boy: The Dragon's Trap (2017)
The original Wonder Boy III: The Dragon's Trap is, without a doubt, the SEGA Master System game ever. It looks, sounds, and plays every bit like the distilled very best of SEGA's 8-bit offerings and is arguably (both by myself and many other fans of the system) the best game available for the console.
Having opened this review with such high praise, I probably don't have to say that if any remake of that game were anything less than absolutely stellar and amazing work, I would not be kind to it. I would hold nothing back, show no quarter, take the gloves off, let rip, and tear it a new one. Luckily, it's absolutely amazing and stellar work.
Essentially that's because this is an emulation of the original Master System ROM with a pretty new skin running over the top of it. Okay, maybe a bit more complex than that, but the game logic running here is basically 1:1 with the SMS version even if, and this includes the game with retro visuals and sounds enabled, there are some changes elsewhere.
Good changes, mind you -- what the kiddies like to call 'quality of life' stuff. Really though, how quality do you need your life if your biggest worries are what creature comforts and conveniences a videogame offers you? But I digress here, there's a whole-ass separate button for special weapon usage and the equipment menu is a much more pleasant-to-navigate affair. And, mercifully, they've got rid of that fucking 'charm point' system that I personally felt was an idea that didn't service this game style as well as it would a more-conventional RPG. And, in essence, all it meant was exiting a shop to remove the Goblin Mail, re-entering, seeing the stuff for sale that should've been for sale anyway. Yeah, that tedium's gone.
There are some small layout changes as well, presumably to even-out the challenge a little. But this is all piecemeal stuff compared to the aesthetic overhaul. Oh, wow, the aesthetic overhaul. Let me, frankly, gush.
Imagine a retro game not just upscaled, not just redrawn, but completely reimagined with the utmost passion, respect, and care for the source material. That's The Dragon's Trap right here.
It. Is. Fucking. Beautiful.
Featureless flat areas with naught but trees are now expansive meadows featuring a memorial to a battle long-since passed, continuing onto a valley with a tower hidden inside a forest by the lake. Standard platform gauntlets across a body of water are now a set of tropical islets in a luxurious ocean that culminates in a shipwreck telling a tale of caution and intrigue before the great offscreen unknown. And there's a little stool outside a hut by a lava lake where the owner has carelessly left some impaled marshmallows to toast in the heat. There is so much attention to detail here, and cute little touches, and visual storytelling, it's tough not to fall in love all over again. The game that was my adventurous escape in childhood, is equally so if not more in adulthood.
Music's amazing, too. Not a single piece feels wrong or updated without the full knowledge of what made the original tunes 'pop'. Particular favourites of mine are the desert and jungle themes, both of which have instrumentation that perfectly encapsulates their host environments and makes the adventure connect on an even deeper level.
I am, however, overlooking some of-its-time "flaws" in this game. I don't care. I even put "flaws" in those scare-quotes because, fuck it, they don't make games like this anymore so there's no reason to change it to be more like games they do make. That one Steam reviewer who says the controls are slippery and the coins bounce over the player's head, you're wrong mate. Couldn't be wronger. Maybe a dragon cursed that guy and he's typing with tiny mouse hands that can barely reach the controller buttons?
Anyway, my recent 2.5 hour afternoon playthrough of this game made me fall in love with it for like the hundredth time. Here's to a hundred more.
5/5
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i've never really put much thought into actual dragon dragon-king bakugou, but — what if —
you meet him for the first time in king todoroki's arena — on what you assume to be the last day of your life. over something menial like stealing a porkbun or something, and now his grace has decided that a trial-by-combat is a fitting punishment for you crimes.
only your opponent is a massive, hulking, fire-red dragon.
and you're not the only one thrown in there; a few other vagrants and miscreants, too, and they — stupidly — rush off to meet their own deaths as they try to strike him down with the blunt swords and dented shields you'd been thrown by the guards before they sealed you to your fate.
the dragon is chained up, of course, like a prized possession for the king. a large collar with inward curving spikes around his neck, which have worn scars into his scales, as well as some metal contraption around his maw to keep it shut. it doesn't hinder him useless, though, and when he tries to fly up and away from the amphitheater, the force of his wings sends you all rolling backward.
despite the fact that he's maiming people with the spines on his tail and bashing them into mush with the weight of his head — you can't help but to feel bad for him, trapped in an arena, put on display for people to taunt and laugh at. the chains look heavy, the muzzle tight; you wonder if his wings could even carry him anymore.
so you decide that the only way for you to live through this, if at all, is if you can manage to get this big boy off the ground.
while the other competitors fight the dragon for their lives, you instead rush for the chains that are nailed into the walls of the arena and smash at them with the rounded end of a shield. every time he jerks his head this way and that, or rears back on his legs, wings flapping wildly, the wall he's nailed to becomes looser and looser, starts to crumble and fall away.
and just as he turns to you — his last foe — it breaks free, and you swear, you swear, those big, red eyes of his narrow, brow furrowing, before he's jerking the chain twice. tugging it noisly, almost to get your attention.
you grab onto it just before he takes to the sky.
the rush of air is so cold and stinging that your eyes water, and you hold onto the lifeline as you're carried up and away from the kingdom, over the entirety of it, far enough that he can land safely without getting charged by the guards.
when you both hit ground, you think you're going to puke, especially as he stands tall and stretches his wings like he hasn't been able to for years — but instead of smashing you, too, to a clump in the grass, he only leans his head down to you, nudges you hard enough that you topple over.
you're still clinging to the shield and you use the edge on the nails of his muzzle, too, twisting them loose so that the iron falls away and he can stretch his jaw. show off his long, very sharp teeth that could easily tear you to bits.
and yet he doesn't. doesn't even try.
it'll be harder to get the collar off his neck, but he watches you with his slit eyes, brow arched menacingly, and nudges you to the long length of his neck. huffs until you're grabbing the spines and hauling yourself up onto him, like some kind of impossibly large horse.
and you continue on like that, for a bit; he finds a field of wild bulls and eats nearly all of them, maiming one for you before setting it aflame; you try to gather little shiny things for him, because you've heard dragons like treasure and you want to keep him, but he doesn't seem too interested; you have no family to return to, having grown up alone on the king's streets, and he becomes all you have.
you begin to feel like some chosen one from the fairytales you've heard spoken by firelight. the dragon bakugou stays with you, and the only reason you can fathom is that, maybe, he feels indebted to you — but you've saved one another, and that's what matters.
the night everything changes is when you're deep in the forest, camped up near the edge of a clear-water spring. the dragon bakugou grows lazy, curled around the perimeter of the water with his long neck and — he's a male dragon, you know, but you've got to wash yourself eventually.
you do feel a bit odd, undressing yourself as he watches, but you assume it's only out of plain and simple curiosity that he does; you assume that's why he does anything, for you, like allowing you to lay near his head when you sleep or huffing in your face until you laugh when you try to wrap your arms around his nose.
you try to pay him — an animal, a creature of fantasy — no mind as you dive below the surface, enjoying the refreshing rush of water over your skin. when you reach the bottom, tangle your hands in the gentle weeds, you feel a pang of sadness, that he might never experience such a feeling.
but when you return to the surface — he's gone.
in place at the water's edge is the collar you've never been able to loosen. rusted and creaking, looking much larger off his neck and alone in the grass, and your stomach lurches with a thousand horrible possibilities of what could have happened until —
"oi."
until you turn around and there is a massive, hulking man, naked as the day he came, with eyes the color of the scales that are dotted along his skin in stray patches. crowned in a mess of ashen hair, scars along his neck and face and arms—one of which is inked in some symbol you may have seen once. on those travellers, from the southern clans.
he, the man bakugou, you realize, has no concept of personal space — or the fact that he's totally naked and so are you — and he wastes no time in crowding into you. even rushing, a little, when you squeal and try to clamber back up the bank for your clothes.
like a stubborn boy, he pushes you into the dirt and even grins, evil and mischievous, with human teeth. you have no idea what to expect of him; men have never been too kind to you, afterall, someone without a home or family and easy to be rid of.
but he, the man bakugou, only nudges his face into yours, huffs against your cheek when you squirm, and you think, you think, you can hear some kind of quiet rumbling purr coming from the deep center of his chest.
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