I’m an idiot.
That should be blatantly obvious by now, because
collectively I’ve blown about a hundred hours on the modern-day Final Fantasy games, and cleared one of
its latest entries before I even touched Bloodborne. I remedied that eventually, and while I’ve
already said some stuff about the game already -- good things, no less -- I
can’t emphasize it enough. Bloodborne is a good-ass game. If you haven’t played it and you have a PS4,
go play it. Especially now, since the
DLC expansion The Old Hunters is out,
AND there’s a game of the year edition that has it packed in.
But let’s get back to the matter at hand. See, it’s been months -- literal months --
since the last time I booted up Bloodborne. I pretty much forgot how to play, so I
figured it’d be best if I started over with a new character and file. As such, I made a new version of my old
mainstay, Blackules; I just barely made it to the second boss (on accident) the
first time around, but I hoped I’d do much better with a new hunter by my
side. And the initial run would have
gone a lot better if I wasn’t a complete idiot.
I forgot how to heal -- and ended up assuming that
I couldn’t heal until later in the
game.
And you know what?
It might have actually made me -- if not the game in general -- even better.
Before I go any further, let’s set the stage a
bit. The whole theme of this little
miniseries (besides PS4 games) is “elements”, in honor of the Stratovarius song
of the same name. Said song focuses on
wind, fire, water, and earth…or, more appropriately, Fear. Anger. Sorrow. Joy. So each game I’ll talk about will deal with
one of those four elements. And as you
can guess, Bloodborne nails one of those
elements pretty much perfectly -- to the point where you can call it I Don’t Wanna Be Here Anymore.
True to its name, Bloodborne is a bloody, gory game.
Attacks are weighty, and tear the viscera out of anything unfortunate to
taste your blade. The sound design is
immaculate, whether it’s so you can rip apart foes, or so you can double over
in terror as hellspawn rush your way.
(Seriously, what the hell is up with those giant crows?) With the threat of death tucked away behind
every corner, you can’t help but clutch your hard-earned Blood Echoes close to
your chest -- and then blow all your items with one panic-born decision after
another, until you take irreversible damage thanks to a single sloppy move.
Paradoxically, Bloodborne
is built on fear -- and thrives on it -- but I’d say that the whole point
of the gameplay is to conquer that fear.
Control it. Master it. That’s easier said than done, I know, but I’m
pretty sure it’s possible. You just know
there’s some expert out there who blasted through the game in a couple of
days. I think his first name started
with a J. Justin? Jeff?
Eh, something like that.
No one will get this reference.
In any case, Blackules. Much like Link from the Zelda games, there are many forms of Blackules; no two of them are
alike. Sometimes he takes on the form of
a wizened old man, travelling the world in silence. Other times, he’s a stalwart and virile
warrior whose strength lets him manhandle any and all challengers. This time around, he’s a strong guy --
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I proceeded to shoot myself in the foot. In theory, at least.
I chose the Military Veteran origin, not so much
because of the stats (good strength and endurance at the cost of magic power,
IIRC), but because it sounded like something that’d suit the character. BUT because I chose the axe last time of out
of the 3 starting weapons, I went with the Threaded Cane. I’ve heard that the axe is the n00b weapon --
which is entirely justified, because its transformed state has a STUPID HUGE
attack range -- and the cane is comparatively worse, but you know what? I kind of prefer the cane, because it feels
like I’m zoning out baddies like I’m Axl from Guilty Gear. Well, assuming
that I don’t bang my chains against a wall.
Now here comes the silly part. Since it had been such a long time since I’d
last played the game, I had to re-learn the controls from scratch. The four triggers are the attack buttons,
which is a departure from the norm (albeit one that works overall). Once you slot in stuff from your inventory,
items are managed via the D-pad. That
ended up leading to a problem: see, I had assumed that I could heal myself with
Blood Vials once I started getting them, and thus keep my hunter alive for a
little longer. But despite my furious
attempts, the D-pad denied me my tasty drinks.
“Okay, that’s weird,” I thought. “Oh, do I have to equip it first?” But I couldn’t
equip the Blood Vials. Molotov
cocktails, sure. Pebbles, of
course. But the one saving grace I
desperately needed eluded me. I ended up
learning that the healing button wasn’t on the D-pad, but on Triangle, AKA the one button I didn’t think of
pressing for some reason. At the time,
though, I worked under a certain assumption: by choosing to play as a Military
Veteran, I’d accidentally chosen a version of Hard Mode; with my Insight locked
at zero, I figured that in order to use Blood Vials, I’d have to find some
Madman’s Insight first. In other words? I thought that in order to heal, I had to
fight my way toward the right to heal.
And guess what?
It actually made me play better.
There’s no scientific proof of it, of course. All of the variables are different; different
stats, different weapons, et cetera.
Plus, even if I didn’t remember every detail from the game, I’d done
that opening area enough times by that point with my previous character
(Suplex) to know a number of the ins and outs.
But the thing about Bloodborne
(if you’ll let me be so bold) is that even if you know where some of the
sneakiest enemies in an area are hiding, there’s no guarantee you’ll blast
through every foe on your way to the goal.
You can still get ambushed. You
WILL face impossible odds. Your plans
can fall to pieces in seconds. And of
course, there’s always the issue of human error.
Obviously, Bloodborne
is a hard game. But it isn’t
impossible, and (barring what I suspect are design choices and enemy placements
hand-crafted to ruin your day) it’s a fair game. If you die thanks to some enemy coming out of
the woodworks, it’s not entirely your
fault, even though you should probably know better by that point. But if it keeps happening -- if “human error”
is the sole reason why you’re forced to make the same run a thousand times over
-- then it’s probably your fault. You
need to do better. And as cruel and as
terrifying as it can get, Bloodborne provides.
When I restarted the game with Blackules -- and
thought that I couldn’t heal -- I assumed that I wouldn’t accomplish much. I figured that I’d have to start over, but I
might as well see how far I could go. As
it turned out, I did better without healing items than I ever did with
them. In the span of about an hour and a
half (not even that, because some of that time included character creation), I
reached a point where I was willingly taking on three and even four guys at
once, and without getting hit. I dealt
with ambushes as they came, even when crazed Yharnam dwellers rushed in from off-screen. The dogs that terrorized me in the past went
down in two hits. Dodging enemy gunfire
became second nature. At certain points,
I went from going in and hoping for the best to willingly rushing down mobs of
opponents. And I won.
That’s not to say I went full ham every time (or
that I never died again). I still
managed to pick my battles by thinning out the masses -- either by pulling foes
with pebble tosses, or by gaining the edge with the tried-and-true tactic of
“hit ‘em while their back’s turned”.
Blackules is a noble and valiant fighter, but I’m not. In a pinch, I can get pretty pragmatic and
exploitative. If you have a weakness,
I’ll take advantage of it. Just ask my
brother and his poor Little Mac.
Ultimately, the first run of my return ended in
something not unlike abject
failure. I had forgotten where the other
lamp/checkpoint was in the area, and so I figured it had to be past a couple of
werewolves lycanthropes on a bridge.
Just like before, I couldn’t take them out. But I got frustratingly close; I actually
managed to kill both, but I traded blows with the second and bit it. So ended Blackules’ career, albeit
temporarily. Still, if it WAS going to
end there, I don’t think anyone would have been disappointed in him. He put up a hell of a fight.
I guess that’s the thing about Bloodborne. Yes, it’s scary and nerve-wracking as all get
out, and that’s in the opening hours; I don’t even want to imagine what else
might be in the game when the Cleric Beast is the first and presumably least
From Software’s latest has to offer. But
it’s what makes the rewards all the sweeter.
The challenge level is through the roof, and when you can reach a point
where you’re gliding seamlessly from one skirmish to the next, overpowering
your foes while remaining untouchable, it’s quite the feeling. It’s not acting in the absence of fear, but
in spite of it. Maybe even because of
it; the will to survive and succeed makes you stronger than you could have ever
thought possible.
Put simply?
I think Bloodborne is a game
that can do more than inspire fear (as capable and as powerful as it is). No, this game can actually make the player go
beyond that. It makes players ascend.
My sheer bumbling made me catch glimpses of that
plateau, but it’s there. It’s appreciable
in a world where power fantasies and indulgent design are practically the
norm. Too many games have put too much
power in my hands, and I’ve come to resent them for it; in those, I’m a walking
armory, an unstoppable killing machine, or a big fish in a pond the size of a
spitball. There’s no justification for
“tension” when I have a fully functional flamethrower, and even then I
practically have an instant-kill button on lockdown.
It’s true that once you get into Bloodborne’s rhythm, things get easier. But that ease comes from understanding; when
you get into that rhythm, it’s because you’ve learned fundamentals -- spacing,
mobility, punishment, and more -- that wouldn’t be out of place in the average
fighting game. And while the game could
be compared to, say, Street Fighter,
the example that springs to mind is Bayonetta. There’s a huge difference between it and Bloodborne, for sure (speed being one of
them), but they’re still on the same axis.
You could argue very successfully that something like Bayonetta 2 is also a big dumb power fantasy. With that said, it’s at least much better at
being a power fantasy than its contemporaries; the style and spectacle make
every second of climax-filled action totally worthwhile. But as I’ve noted before, what makes the game
special is that once you get a grip on its systems and feel the heat of battle
rush through you, you enter that ascended state. They call it “the zone” in some circles;
suddenly, you’re able to focus intently on the game and execute commands with
thoughts that are more natural than breathing.
You don’t have to think anymore.
You just feel. And then you do
it.
I never would have guessed that a game as
terrifying as Bloodborne could allow
me to find my groove and stay there.
Yet, here I am. In my first
session with the game after months of inactivity, I managed to make it to the
lycanthrope bridge and put up a convincing fight despite being woefully
outmatched -- after three or four deaths, all while under the assumption that I couldn’t heal. In my second
session, I only died once; I cleared out the lycanthropes, cleared the
streets of villagers, took on whole mobs (with dogs included), traversed the
sewers from start to finish (minus the giant boar tucked down a dark tunnel,
because what the hell is a boar doing in
the sewers), beat down heavy-hitting trolls, beat down another troll despite it launching a preemptive ambush, AND made it
back to home base with two Insight gained and about 5000 Blood Echoes in the
pocket…along with full bullets, full healing, and only minor durability loss to
a weapon I’d already upgraded once.
Everything in that second session happened in less
than an hour and a half. And it felt so good.
I’m not so presumptuous to say that I’ve reached a
higher plane of Bloodborne existence. I still haven’t beaten a single boss, and I’d
assume I’ll be right back to shivering in my seat (and getting scared by
Blackules’ shadow) as soon as I enter the completely-unknown second area of the
game. On the other hand, I’d think that
some of the skills I’ve picked up along the way will transfer over into the
challenges I’ll face later on; if Bloodborne’s
like a fighting game, then I can scrape up victories by using the
fundamentals I’ve learned. So I should
be okay. I’ll be scared, but the fear
and pressure are guiding me -- pushing me towards that ascended state instead
of forcing me to cry in a corner.
Maybe now I can focus on what really matters:
seeing what Bloodborne is actually
about.
As far as I can tell, the goal of the game is to
not only push forward into new areas, but also to find Madman’s Knowledge --
the reason being that downing one of the items gives you a boost to your
Insight stat. (I’ll guess that there are
other ways to boost Insight, but this’ll do for now.) While the other stats determine your combat
effectiveness, Insight is apparently such an important stat that it’s in the
top-right corner of the screen at all times.
What does it affect? Nothing
special. Just your very perception of the world.
You level up in the game by giving your Blood
Echoes to the Plain Doll nestled in your ethereal home base, the Hunter’s
Dream. The trick is that, even if you
can heal with zero Insight, you CAN’T level up; the Plain Doll is immobile, and
won’t respond to anything you do. Come
back to the Dream with one Insight, and you can talk to her freely (and she’s
such a nice lady!). But more stuff
changes than that. If you scrape up a
whopping two points of Insight,
you’ll be able to uncover a secret.
See, there’s an elevator a ways into the first
area of Yharnam -- and despite the lever that’s sitting right next to it,
there’s nothing you can do. The lever
doesn’t work, so the elevator doesn’t work; that’s less than ideal, because it
creates a HUGE shortcut between one area and the next. If you have enough insight, you don’t even
need to use the lever. You see for
yourself that there’s a switch inside the car you can activate just by stepping
on it. Fine and dandy, but that switch definitely wasn’t there before. I checked.
So it’s a safe bet that things aren’t what they seem in this game. And naturally, that just adds a whole new
layer of terror into the mix.
It’s you versus the world in this game. But if you can’t even trust your senses -- or
yourself in general -- then who can you trust?
Uhhhhh...preferably not that.
At one point (after killing an old man in a
wheelchair, because he’ll shoot you if you show mercy) you can find an old book
on a shelf. It mentions that Yharnam, or
an old version of it, at least, burned to the ground. Interesting bit of backstory, for sure, but
that raises an important question: if Yharnam burned down, then where am I
now? Sure, that could just imply that
I’m in the rebuilt version of the town (in the same sense that Chicago still
exists despite a brutal fire way back when), but what if? What if I’m only in an imagined version of
it? Or, more realistically, what if
burning Yharnam in the past unleashed the beast-making plague that rocks the
populace? What were the circumstances? The consequences?
I guess the only way to know for sure is to find the truth for myself. Or I could do the lazy thing and read the
wiki…but I probably won’t. I’ve gone
this far without knowing what’s in the game even a few steps past the beginning
(barring the Best Friends mentioning offhandedly that there’s some “Cthulu
shit”), and it’s with good reason. I
want to see the game for myself. I want
to see the truth for myself. And most of
all, I want to press onward in spite of -- or maybe because of -- my fear.
It might have something to do with Bloodborne being my personal candidate
for Game of the Year. But let’s not get
too hasty. As of writing, I haven’t
touched Xenoblade Chronicles X.
Yet.
In any case, that’ll just about do it for
now. Bloodborne
= fear, but Bloodborne = fun as
well. It also confirms I’m an idiot even
further, because I should’ve played Demon’s
Souls and the Dark Souls games a
lot more than virtually not at all. Oh
well. I’m fixing that now.
So, what’s next on the list?
Hmmm. Would
it be too grating (and obvious) if I ended this post on “Kept you waiting, huh?”
Yes?
Okay. Then I’ll end on that.
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