A Pokémon Reboot Ramble (Update: Minor Ideas!)

Now, before we begin, I shall admit to all that I still enjoy playing the Pokémon games. There's something about catching a variety of coloured animals and making them beat each other up to evolve into bigger animals that is both oddly cathartic and maddeningly addictive. But now there's at least five generations of mainstream games, adding up to a total of over 649 or so of the little bastards now, and like an ancient family cake recipie the main formula of the game has barely changed, aside from a few ingredients that don't really do much of anything.

And the occasional physical embodiment of all living matter, but you don't really taste that.

With that said, I feel now is the perfect time to introduce a few ideas I have been tossing around for a hypothetical reboot or (Arceus forbid) a sixth generation of games. So without further ado, let's release these little mental gremlins from their balls and get rolling.

Drop the National Pokédex
The whole point of the Pokémon games is to fill up your Pokédex - which you recieve at the start of every quest - with every kind of animal available in the game's region. You do this by catching the little buggers in the wild, evolving them by beating the tar out of other people's animals and trading them with friends. Unlike the average person, I was never able to do this, either because I got bored of wandering through the tall grass to find that goddamned Abra or I was to busy kicking the gym leader's backsides. But if you are a better person than I am (and I'm sure someone reading this is), then you manage to accomplish this amazing feat alongside thrashing the bad guys and becoming the champion of the league, which is like being a movie star except not.

Whereupon your reward... is to catch more of the things.

Let's put this into context, shall we? Over five successive generations of main games, the number of Pokémon has swollen from a relatively small mob at the time of Red and Blue to something equal to a goddamned Roman legion by the time of Black and White. There's over 649 of the things. Six Hundred and Forty Nine. Not coutning the alternate forms of Deoxys or Rotom, because they're hard enough to keep track of in the first place.

And you thought the line for the school lunch queue was bad.

Now, don't get me wrong. I loved every generation's Pokémon equally, because I'm not some rabid nerd who likes to think that Bulbasaur was way better than Snivy, not by a long shot. I even hold a grudging respect for the oddballs like Jynx and Wobbuffet, because they add a bit of spice (or racism accusations) to the legions of animals. But to ask me to catch every species of the damn things from every other region after I just worked my tailbone off filling up my first Pokédex, kicking some extremist moron's head in and filling my wallet with enough money to purchase the Unova region several times over on the way, is asking way too goddamn much. I simply cannot put that much time and effort into repeating something I have been doing along the course of the But Thou Must plot for the sake of fulfilling the proffessor character's obssessive-compulsiveness. It's like being asked to sweep the leaves off your driveway in the hopes of getting a nice crisp fiver at the end of the day, only to be told that now you're expected to sweep the leaves off the driveways along the entire damn street. It's too much of the same thing, arbitrarily thrown in your face after you think it's all over and done with.

Also, I see no value in catching the monsters you worked your socks off to earn in the previous generations. Catching a Pidgey in every game gets boring after a while.

Nobody likes you, Pidgey.

So let's just do the sensible thing, Nintendo. Save the players the trouble and just drop the National Dex altogether. I know that you like to give the occasional nod to all your previous games, but overwhelming us with the task of catching every single one (or R4 cheating them in my case, mwah hah hah) is too overwhelming. Let us focus on the new guys just for once, and let the Golden Oldies relax for a bit.

Make the Main Characters Less Wimpy
This is a point that I feel is the root cause of quite a lot of things in the Pokémon series, and ties neatly into my next mad gremlin of an idea. It could also be rendered somewhat moot, considering your voiceless, pre-pubescant, animé-haired avatar eventually has to square up to creatures that could easily be considred living gods.

Trust me, you need serious cahoonies to stand up to these guys.

But that's not what I'm on about. What I'm trying to say is that your avatar, wherever it be a dude or a chick, is largely constrained by the plot that is rather arbitrarily thrust upon them. I feel that too much of them is expected - they have to catch over six hundred different types of potentially world-destroying monsters, they have to beat up skilled trainers to become the game's equivalent of celebrities, and they are also required to stop some cookie-cutter cartoon terrorists from screwing up the environment or the fabric of space and time or whatever they're trying to smash beyond repair this time. And they all go along with it because that's how the story goes.

Now, I know that the characters can't just up and say "Screw this, I'm outta here", because they can't. They're just blank, voiceless slates for the player to project themsevles onto, and it's kinda hard for the silent hero to refuse the call of duty. Besides, the fun you can have with that can liven up the dull moments when you're stuck in one city because that gym leader is too tough for you. My playthrough of Pearl saw me turn my character into a Duke Nukem wannabe who spouted nonsense about chewing gum and kings at the start of every trainer fight, whilst Heart Gold saw me imagine an irritable bastard who laments the fact that everyone only thinks of good ideas at the last minute, which often seems to be the case in these games.

"Why, oh, why am I the only sane person in this region?"

But all of this is compunded by the fact that, as is the case with every JRPG I could name, all the player really does is ferry Duke Katchem from one mind-numbingly boring conversation/story event to the next, tied to the rails of a plot that veers back and forth between Rocky and Ocean's Eleven in tone. One moment you're training your critters to kick your rival's butt into next week, the next you're foiling Team Plasma's (admittedly original and intruiging) plot to screw up your concept of Pokémon/Trainer relationships beyond recognition. It would be nice to have the option to simply ignore one part of the plot and focus on another - gleefuly ignoring the rampant terrorism to gather an army of demigods worthy of Noah's Ark.

Also, when you lose a trainer battle and have all of your Pokémon faint, for some reason your character "whites out" and wakes up in the nearest Pokémon Centre minus a few hundred dollars. What's going on there? Is our hero secretly a pacifist who cannot stand the sight of wounded animals? Did all the excitement and stress of the fight cause the blood to go to their heads? Or did they suffer a spontaneous heatstroke, causing them to pass out in the middle of the road? And why would the dude you've just been fighting drag you all the way to the Pokémon Centre, only to loot your unconcious form and rush back to their predetermined spot on the road in anticipation of the inevitable rematch? At the very least, you should just be able to walk away on your own to revive your team, unable to fight other trainers or wild Pokémon until your team is at full strength again.

And on the subject of story...

Give Us Some Choice
This is a thing that me and the guys on Skype have been talking about, and we all agree that it would be a nice thing to see implemented. The Pokémon series has an underlying theme of growing up and independance which, I feel, seems to get lost in the madcap rush to say you captured the God of Time. And the obligatory "Catch 'Em All/Become The Champ/Save The World" story is getting a bit hackneyed, to be brutally honest. So in order to try and coax some life into this series, I'd like to propose a moral choice/story path hybrid system. You know, the thing that Shadow the Hedgehog claimed to have, but didn't because it was an awful game.

Now, I'm not saying we need to go the Mass Effect route and conjure up a thousand different story paths for the mute protagonists, and not just because it probably wouldn't be technologically feasable. Given the cutesy nature of the game, it's not really a good idea for the player to swing between righteous paragon and puppy-kicking bastard at the push of a button, because it just wouldn't mesh with the tone of the series in general. Also, there's also no real need for an optional story path that sees you go all vigilante, build an army of Pokémon to storm the bad guy's base and wreck his shit up.

Not gonna lie, though, that would be awesome.

No, what I'd like to see is something a bit more basic than that. Instead of being forced into what is basically the world's biggest fetch-quest, you get given the Starter Pokémon and the Pokédex, told to make your own way in the world and sent out to do your thing. And this is where it gets interesting - you could collect the whole set of super-powerful beings, but you could also choose not to. You could also choose not to foil the terrorist group's evil plot, or not to climb a mountain of humiliated foes to become the regional champion. You could do any one on its own, or a combination of them, or all three - the player makes the desicion of how to approach this big sprawling world full of monsters and people. Or - and this is a big or, because I'm not sure where this would fit in with what I have now - you could reach a point where you're given the option to simply say "sod it", settle down and start a family.

This, I feel, would be the biggest and most important change to the games. Not only would it dispose of a storyline that's gone a bit mouldy, like week-old bread, but it also gives the player a bit more freedom. In a sense, it changes the genre of the game from a standard Adventure/RPG hybrid into something akin to a sandbox crossed with the RPG elements - you're free to pursue whichever aspect of the plot suits you best as you feel like it. I know some of you are going to draw comparisons to GTA, because we all know GTA did the sandbox-game thing first (/sarcasm), and while it might be a bit of a stretch to imagine that Nintendo would approve of this idea, with their long history of recycling the basic plot of their beloved franchises, it would be nice to think that something like this could be done. It would breathe a bit of life into the series as a whole, because frankly, I'm getting sick of being told I have to save the world, I have to be the very best and I have to catch 'em all. What if I don't want to?

I have a bucketload of minor ideas that could also go into this post, but I feel I've typed enough already. What do you guys think? Comments? Critique? Batshit insane ramblings on how you absolutely hated Lt. Surge? (I know I did, smug git.) Fire away!

Update: Minor Ideas
So, here's some minor ideas that I think could be worked into my hypothetical Pokémon reboot, thrown in at the last minute.

• Take the "Version Exclusive" gimmick and expand it - for example, one game takes place in the north of the new continent, and the other takes place in the south, the player only able to access the other game's world after beating the Elite Four or something. Or, for laughs, version exclusive starters.
• The ability to groom your Pokémon before a contest - cleaner Pokémon are more likely to win bigger points.
• Using your Pokémon in the overworld could easily be expanded a bit more. For example, you could have a fetch-quest that involved using your Pokémon to track a scent, perhaps a kidnapped child. ("What's that, Zigzagoon? Timmy's stuck in a cave?")
• Have a trainer fight against a Mewtwo. Because that movie was awesome, no matter what Nostalgia Critic says.
• Bring back Ruby and Sapphire's Secret Bases, damnit!

My Reaction to Getting Zelda Skyward Sword

The Cutting Room Floor

With the tournament over and our RP'ing shenanigans brought to a brief hiatus, I thought I'd might like to share some of my secret, never-before-seen RP stuff that never got used, instead of using this post to blub about how awesome you all were (no, seriously, you are :D). So with that in mind, allow me to present a whole bunch of daft shit that will probably be consigned to the dusty shelves of forgetfulness.

Edward Bruin Esq.

Edward Bruin was one of two possible characters I could have brought in after Shuma-Gorath's defeat in the Big Bar Brawl, instead of Eddie. Here is his character bio as I wrote it up.

Origin: Original character based off illustration. (Author's Note: A.A. Milne's drawing of Winnie-The-Pooh. :D)

Text Color: Brown.

Abilities/Skills: A keen sense for business deals, unflappable demeanour, has picked up various skills and talents from previous owners, chairman of Bruin Motors.

Props: “Bruin-case” which is near-bottomless and has various items in it, ranging from guns to drink ingredients to demons.

Edward Bruin was once no more than a heritage teddy bear, passed down between members of the Roberto family as a priceless heirloom. Although he enjoyed the games he played in the Thousand Trees with the children, Edward secretly longed to be a part of something bigger. His chance came when Caroline Roberto took him to university come the 1980’s – he rapidly absorbed the lectures on business studies like a sponge. This would be where he formed his rivalry with Jacque Tigris, who also aspired to become a successful businessman.

At the apex of his learning, Edward was among those caught in an unfortunate malfunction of a hydrogen generator. The explosion killed many, including Caroline, but briefly opened a portal to the heart of the world, the sight of which shocked Edward into sapience. Determined not to let his fraying stitches get the better of him, Edward quickly applied for his own motor car business – Bruin Motors – and began to make a name for himself. Shock and horror was his when it transpired that his rival Jacque was also altered by the explosion, and had founded Tigris Auto in response.

So basically, he is Gentleman Draco, except kinder, British and a teddy bear.

Among his skills include various talents picked up from his previous owners, including line dancing, embroidery, car driving, marksmanship and more. This is partly due to some spiritualism bullcrap I wanted to pull, but mostly because I wanted to enter him in the King of Beats so he could sing this song, and so I could get Jumpropeman to probably type this.

"And then he starts yodelling.

The bear starts yodelling.

THE FUCKING TEDDY BEAR STARTS FUCKING YODELLING.

WHAT THE HELL."

Michael
Michael (last name not decided) was an idea I had been juggling around the middle/end of the tourney season, as a means of introducing an original character for once. I hadn't planned much of his character until I decided "sod it, Rain is now Nicky-poo", so his origins and personality are rather vague.

The only solid thing about Michael was that he had an alter-ego known as Captain Howdy, either through demonic possession, a parasitic worm or split personality disorder. Whatever the cause, Michael would switch to the Captain Howdy persona in periods of high stress, either when upset or enraged. In this state, a normally polite, reserved and quiet boy would become a foul-mouthed, whiskey-drinking bastard that hated absolutely everyone and often made rash, spur-of-the-moment desicions. This was designed in order for me to create a character who could have an excuse to swing between meek shyness and gun-toting badassery at the drop of a hat, as well as creating a problem that could not be solved by direct pummelling, the bargoer's favourite tactic.

I had orignally considered the concept of Michael harbouring a violent "guardian angel" - in reality a japanese demon - who controlled the boy's daily life with bueraucratic callousness in exchange for protection from mobsters. This was ditched after I found it too trite and boring. Then the whole character had to be ditched because it was much too late in the tournament to do anything.

Killing off Rain
Yes, I planned to do this. I had concieved a minor plot arc with the intention of removing Rain to bring Shuma-Gorath back, or introduce a new character. Quan Chi possessing him would have lead to him demanding that he be killed to stop the sorcerer returning in physical form and challenging Zephyrus to a re-match. But there was already too much plot happening, so I killed the necromancer with a glass of Happy Ending.

It... was awesome, somehow.

Probably more to come later!

City of Beasts - Eddie Riggs

The gang was unaware that they were being watched.

Of course, no-one else was expected at this gathering. The thugs were lurking behind the old, worn-down church for one reason only – to inspect their latest shipment. It had taken months of haggling for price, not to mention one hell of a trip to the sewers and back to collect it, but finally the quartet, dressed in the traditional light armour of Levia, were looking over their ill-gotten gains in the shadow of a huge beech tree – a series of cardboard boxes, unmarked and sealed shut with masking tape. An innocuous-looking delivery, no-doubt, but one that raised far more questions than it answered.

The mob leader, a bulky man in his mid-thirties, was tearing open the seal of one box with a sharp knife, ripping through the tape of the lid in one smooth motion. Throwing the lid open eagerly, he pulled out what appeared to be a red-haired doll, dressed in a frilly skirt – more appropriate for a children’s nursery than the grim scenario taking place. However, one quick tug revealed the object’s true purpose – accompanying the stuffing that poked from the neck stump was a series of small plastic packets, filled with something white, powdery and definitely illegal.

The man’s face twisted into a grin, the moonlight casting patterns on his stubbly chin.

“That’s the stuff, boys,” he chuckled, standing up and tossing the doll’s head away. “Get these to the van, pronto – and don’t mess up like last time.”

The other three, much younger than their boss, did as told, each grabbing a box in their arms and running with haste into the shadows of the street beyond. The leader watched them leave, hawk-fashion, then leant against the icy trunk of the tree and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. As he did so, his eyes swept across the churchyard, just to make sure that no-one else had been prying.

No-one on the pathway, no-one by the gate. No-one hiding behind the gravestones, which time and weather had carved into all sorts of lumpy, malformed shapes that cast horrid, shadows onto the grass beneath them. No-one in the shade of the willows, planted many years ago in memory of some old fogey that used to work in the church long ago – the thug couldn’t give shit about who it had been. And certainly no-one on the patio, where guests often came to sit when the rain and the sleet came down and have a chat and some lemonade. Decrepit and dying, like the rest of this damn city. The sooner it was pulled down, the better.

Absorbed in thoughts like this, the man didn’t notice when a bat-winged shape that could have passed for one of the church gargoyles suddenly peeled from the rooftops and soared overhead. Nor did he hear the near-silent rustle of leaves above him.

Pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his breeches, the man jammed it between his teeth, and then yanked a lighter from the other pocket with his free hand, flicking the lid open in one smooth motion. The flame caught, flared for an instant to reveal the royal symbol of Levia, and then dimmed down into a flicker. Cupping one hand around the flame to shield it from the cold wind, the man brought it to the tin stick in his mouth, the end of it glowing as it caught alight. Then he shut the lighter off, inhaled deeply from his cigarette and pocketed the lighter, before blowing a plume of smoke from the other side of his mouth.

Then coughed as something kicked him in the face.

The cigarette flew from his mouth as he fell, to land and fizzle out in the wet grass. The man landed heavily, the wind knocked out of him as he hit the ground face-first, and his first instinct was to reach for the knife on his belt again. But as he twisted round on the earth, trying to confront his attacker, a meaty hand grabbed him by the throat, choking him as its owner dragged him off the grass and slammed him back into the tree. The thug’s ears sang with the impact, and his vision blurred as tears of pain pooled in his eyes.

Through the blur, a red-eyed, greasy-haired demon loomed from the blackness, face twisted into a snarl.

“Who ordered this shipment?!” it roared in a voice like thunder that echoed around the graveyard.

“I-I don’t kn-kn-know!” The man gasped for breath, fighting to release himself from the monster’s clutch, his voice a terrified squeak. “Swear t-t-to Lady Fortuna, I n-never-”

“SWEAR TO ME, YA TRIDEN SHIT!”

The man suddenly found himself soaring through the air, screaming as he went. This time, he landed on the solid cobbled path, his chain-mail rattling as he impacted, pain singing though his spine. Then a heavy boot thumped into his chest, threatening to break his ribs, while the silvery glint of an axe-blade scythed from the gloom to stop mere inches from his neck. The terrified man looked up at the demon above him, black armour glinting in the moonlight, tusked helmet leering down, blood-red wings spread like grasping fingers.

“It w-was a p-p-private ord-der,” the thug gasped, breath coming short from sheer panic. “C-came from the s-s-shopping district.”

“That ain’t Triden territory, dude,” the demon rumbled, shoving the axe closer. “What’s Alex got to do with that, eh?”

“Don’t ask-k-k me! All the v-vans have been diverted t-to the old fun park!”  The man was wishing he was somewhere else now. “It’s b-been deserted f-f-for fuckin’ months! Cops don’t go there!”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ cop? That’s where Jaxx’s dregs are hidin’ out! Why’s your boss shippin’ powder to that goddamned psycho?”

The man, sweating and terrified, did not answer. Then the demon moved the axe away from the thug’s throat, and lifted his iron-plated foot from his chest. What sigh of relief should have come next was turned into a squawk as the monster lifted his captive up by the front of his tunic. Its breath stank of cheap whiskey, and other things besides.

“I’ve got things to do,” snarled the beast. “But when you get back to your boss, tell him that he’s gonna need those drugs to take away the pain of the ass-kicking I'm gonna give him!”

The thug was almost on the verge of a heart attack now, but had the foolish courage to croak out three more words.

“What… are… you?”

The demon, against all odds, grinned.

“Riggnarok.”

Several minutes later, the three thugs returned to find their leader out cold on the grass. Pinned to his tunic was a silvery badge, carven in the visage of a tusked, snarling beast.

The Fire Beast, Ormagöden.