A Long Time Ago, In A Galaxy Far Far Away

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

The year was 1999. I was naught but an impressionable seven-year-old. And my mother was taking me to the local cinema to watch the beginnings of a new trilogy set among the stars where a slew of space wizards would be duelling it out to a grand orchestral piece by one John Williams. Sure, there were a few slow scenes with talks about blockades and a Trade Federation, but these were interspersed between riveting action pieces and a grand race on a desert planet. If you haven’t caught on by now, dear reader, the film was Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace.

Over the years, I’d watch the rest: Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith, A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back and Return Of The Jedi, though not necessarily in that exact order.

And besides attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I also wanted to train to be a master of the Force and wield my own lightsaber into battle. Heck, I even trained privately at home using a long metal pole scavenged from Gods know where and striking it against the bedframe of the bunkbed at home.

Unfortunately, adulthood came chasing after me.

Before I knew it, I had largely outgrown the fantasies of my youth and was on the path of becoming a gainfully employed member of society. With a penchant, still, for the galaxy George Lucas created all those years ago.

Cue the sequel trilogy that first brought a grin to my face before it dampened my hopes with a lacklustre finale.

Despite my immeasurable disappointment with Rise of Skywalker, the Star Wars franchise has still sat quite highly in my personal regard. There has always been something inspiring about the Jedi and their teachings with the Force. Then, of course, there were the countless stories that could be told in the rich history of the Republic with its range of colourful alien races and the people who live in it. Look no further to Knights of the Old Republic for the grand tale of Darth Revan. Then there’s the collection of video games centred around the aftermath of the Empire’s fall: Star Wars: Dark Forces and Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast. Modern stories such as Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order and Star Wars Jedi: Survivor have also been a delight.

Games aside, I’ve also enjoyed many of the LEGO set pieces that are constantly released. From the rare collector’s editions to the iconic spaceships. In my childhood, I had a LEGO replica of Jango Fett’s Slave 1. After being freed from the restrictions placed upon me by childhood, and the fact I did not have my own money, I bought other LEGO Star Wars sets, the most recent being the Dark Falcon.

So, in my hubris, and my desire to combine two of my favourite things together, I went and purchased LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga. It did, after all, receive many a glowing review upon its release back in 2022. Was it any wonder I wanted to see what had so hooked so many to their tried and true formula by dipping my toes into what many would describe as a kid’s game? I mean, I’d just come off from Astro Bot, also ostensibly a video game aimed at children (and one my 4-year-old nephew adores), so there had to be something bigger than nostalgia gripping its fans. Right?

Unfortunately, The Skywalker Saga felt like a top ten hits recap of the 9 mainline Star Wars films with a copious amount of collectibles thrown in to maintain interest for the game.

And let’s just say the collectibles are extensive.

While I don’t mind having a copious amount of collectibles on each level for me to pick-up during a playthrough, where I often draw the line is when it takes multiple playthroughs just to make sure everything has been picked up. In The Skywalker Saga, the initial playthrough of each story mission (of which there are five in each episode) limits the characters you can use. Unfortunately, many of the minikits and even some of the level challenges are gated behind using certain abilities to obtain.

Coupled with extensive recreations of the various worlds, filled with their own side quests and other puzzles, the amount of collectibles available becomes an onerous burden. One I was loathe to partake in even as many others might find the challenges a great addition when it comes to replayability.

Admittedly, there have been other games I’ve played that have gated the completion of side quests or collectibles behind certain upgrades in other games, these were primarily set in open worlds. There was no gated off level that needed to be replayed for the other items on the checklist to be ticked off. Nor did these games limit what abilities you were able to use for future levels.

Gameplay features aside, LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga story faithfully follows the plot of the movies they are derived from. Each trilogy is set apart at the start, with players being able to pick from A New Hope, The Force Awakens or The Phantom Menace. After completing each initial episode, further episodes open up – continuing the story of the Skywalkers and their impact on the wider galaxy.

Of course, since this is a LEGO game, The Skywalker Saga is sprinkled with some of its trademark humour and charm. It was almost like playing through a parody of the films as characters break the fourth wall or comment on the baffling decisions when it came to the story beats *cough Rise of Skywalker cough*. Then there were the nods to various memes.

And while my life would have been enriched by not playing through the cringe-worthy battle between Rey and Darth Sidious, I did enjoy the fact Rey and Kylo did NOT kiss in the LEGO rendition. Something which made a lot more sense since the film never built up much of their romantic tension (at least in my humble opinion. Come at me Reylo fans! I’m willing to fight you all on this!)

With all that said, LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga is my least favourite Star Wars game. I think the main reason behind it is that it’s a simple retread of the films. For many, this would not be an issue. But for me, knowing how the stories eventuate and seeing the grand scenes recreated in LEGO, albeit with many a change to keep it child-friendly and unserious, left me wanting.

Then there were the simplified controls which mostly felt janky to me.

Coupled with the collectibles stuffed into the title, I felt overwhelmed by all the things I would need to do if I wanted to satisfy the completionist in my soul. Given the limitations on my time and the fact I was still very behind on the video games that came out in 2024, the prospect of spending hours simply clearing out each objective was far too tedious for my very adult brain. Heck, it wouldn’t have been very fun for young Kyndaris (who spent an entire IRL day sailing around Skellige to all the ? marks on the map and diving down to find the treasure chests hidden below).

But if you like your games simple with a lot of replayability? Go for it. Especially if you have young children that you want to introduce Star Wars to.

Now if only I could convince my big responsible adult brain to fork out the money to fly me to Galaxy’s Edge and build my very own lightsaber…

The Art of Survival

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

When I first started reading the Three-Body Problem, I had high expectations. The science fiction trilogy, known formerly as Remembrance of Earth’s Past, had been described as a seminal and poignant piece on the human condition. One that was being adapted to Netflix, no less (though by the time I eventually got to it, the Netflix series was already out). And, on paper, it ticked many of my boxes when it came to something I would want to read. More importantly, I wanted to see how the many disparate threads planted in the blurb would all come together. What with the video game element, the existence of extraterrestrial life hidden among the stars, and the Cultural Revolution.

Though it took me a little by surprise at how abrupt it was, I enjoyed reading about Ye Wenjie’s past as she grew up during a difficult period in China’s history. As someone born to Chinese immigrants, I had heard stories about how my family navigated those times. From the limited food rations, the biting cold of northwest China…

But I’d never quite understood, on an intellectual level, the utter devastation of those years. It wasn’t until I picked up Frank Dikotter’s The Tragedy of Liberation and Mao’s Great Famine that I was able to actually gain a proper appreciation of the China my parents lived through. After all, it all seemed so far away when my own life was filled with plenty. Sure, there were still concerns about kidnappings and racist attacks but I’d never had to worry about stripping the bark off trees just to feed my belly.

Poverty, on such a national scale, is still a far cry worse from the current cost-of-living crisis we face now. That said, the struggles many face now cannot be so easily dismissed. Wage stagnation and the inflation of the prices for common everyday items means many families have had to go without.

Armed with this foreknowledge of what people had to go through during Ye Wenjie’s childhood, I was quite sympathetic to the character. Especially when her father was killed before her and the family was torn apart by the need to comply with the dictates of an authoritarian leader.

Was it any wonder she lost faith in humanity and sold us out to the Trisolarians? And as a student of history, and a self-described misanthrope, I will readily admit humans are the biggest obstacle to solving many of the world’s problems. If we ever want the world to be a better place, it, honestly, might just be better to eradicate us all.

Humans suck. What more is there to say?

Just look at the current state of the world if you think I’m talking out of my arse.

The only times humans ever band together over a common cause is when disaster strikes. See 9/11 or the Los Angeles Fires.

Of course, there will still be those out for themselves. It’s human nature, after all, to covet what others have and take it for ourselves.

And so it was with the Three-Body Problem.

While most of the first book saw humanity try to uncover the plot behind the Earth-Trisolaris Organisation (ETO), which was dedicated to helping Trisolarians invade Earth and destroy human civilisation, the next two books of the trilogy were an examination of how humanity might deal with the threat of its very destruction at the hands of aliens. Strong premises which should have been interesting to explore…and yet I was let down by much of the plot and the characters.

It should be noted the Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy was originally written in Chinese. As such, the books I read were actually the English translations. But for all the novel concepts being explored, I couldn’t help but feel like some of the work could have been edited down. Of note were the second and last book.

While I understand Liu Cixin wanted to paint the bleak nature of what humanity faced, there were many moments that could have been described in a sentence or two – or wholly cut out entirely. For example, almost all of Luo Ji’s interaction with his imaginary ‘perfect’ woman. Or even Wang Miao’s exploration of the Three Body video game. Did we really need to see him witness all the cycles of Trisolaris society being consumed before finally coming to the conclusion the world was tangling with three celestial bodies? I mean, the title of the book is The Three-Body Problem.

Then, of course, there’s my entire issue with the third book as a passive bystander. Was there truly a need to see humanity descend into barbarism when the Trisolarians decided to herd them all to Australia? I goddamn live in Australia. And having Cheng Xin’s entire perception of the country I live in be boiled down to Baz Luhrman’s Australia film felt…well, the less said, the better.

Or spend so long on the evolution of society that it was acceptable for men to adopt incredibly feminine appearances during times of peace? Before changing once more to their militaristic ‘masculine’ counterparts following the possibility of a Dark Forest strike?

One of my current sticking points when it comes to identity politics is the concept that good times breed ‘weak’ men and how hard times create ‘strong’ men. With the idea of ‘weak’ men being long-haired fem-boys and ‘strong’ men being roided out dude bros all clamouring to be the alpha. When, in all actuality, a demonstration of strength means rising above traditional ideologies of what constitutes masculinity and learning to be empathetic.

Not to mention the chapters dedicated to Yun Tianming’s fairytales, the adventures with 4D space…

The list goes on.

Plot aside, my other main issue were the characters. Both Wang Miao and Luo Ji had an obsession with the women in their lives bordering on unhealthy. Their entire character arcs and motivations were centred on the women they liked. Luo Ji, especially, came off as a patronising socially inept incel.

Of course, some of that could be attributed to Chinese culture or the imperfections of the translations but even when it came to Cheng Xin (the only female protagonist), her entire role was boiled down to what Yun Tianming (a man) bequeathed her with, using the money he had obtained. And she, smitten by the fact he had bought her the rights to a distant star, carried a torch for him until the very end of the book.

In my opinion, it would have been better if Cheng Xin was never gender-swapped to be a woman. In fact, I would have preferred a torrid gay love affair between a male Cheng Xin and Yun Tianming. And, instead, they should have gender swapped Thomas Wade (the psychopathic anti-hero who actually helped save humanity because they could make the hard decisions Cheng Xin could not).

If I’m being truly honest, the only character I liked in Death’s End was 艾AA. Now, she was a woman who would have served as a better protagonist to hapless and indecisive Cheng Xin (who basically slept through most of the book, woke up, made a terrible decision that essentially doomed the human race before someone else came to fix her problem before repeating the cycle all over again). Much like Thomas Wade, 艾AA, was able to make hard decisions. Yet she was also affable and friendly, helping Cheng Xin along before the entire solar system was sucked into the second dimension.

I suppose my main issue is how the characters never felt like characters but simply vessels to drive the story forward. There is no real autonomy afforded to them. They are simply there to fill a hole as required by the plot Liu Cixin wished to write. Or perhaps to explore a concept he wanted to drive home.

Overall, Remembrance of Earth’s Past provides an intriguing take of what it means to reach out across the universe and make contact with another intelligent civilisation, even when it falters to the overarching plot and the characters. It is certainly something worth pondering over and if we, as humans, face a Dark Forest of our very own.

Of course, other films of first contact have pointed to possible positive relations to extraterrestrials.

I, for one, believe curiosity may stay the hand of any who may pay us a visit. But I also understand the underlying fear of what it might mean to stumble upon an aggressor in the dark depths of space. After all, why take the risk of being conquered and having one’s home taken? It’s not like that’s happened in the history of humanity…right? *cough colonialisation cough*

So, perhaps it is easier to eliminate all possible threats to the continuation of our race than face extinction.

Food for thought, dear reader. Food for thought.

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

After finishing a game from publisher Square Enix that involved multiple timelines, I thought the next game I ought to play should be more the same. Cue Life is Strange: Double Exposure, the latest title wherein seemingly normal people in smalltown America discover they secretly have super powers. Yet instead of featuring a new protagonist with an original story, Double Exposure sees the return of one Maxine Caulfield following the events in Arcadia Bay. Except, instead of being able to rewound time, her powers have since changed to dimensional hopping a la Sliding Doors (not that I know much of it since I never did watch the film and am basing this comparison on a rudimentary understanding from reading the plot on Wikipedia).

The Life is Strange games hold a special place in my heart. While many fans adored best friend deuteragonist Chloe Price, I never quite took a shine to her. To me, she was rude and belittling. Blaming every bad decision she made on someone else.

Yes, she was troubled. Yes, she was still dealing with the trauma of losing her father.

But these are not excuses.

During my playthrough of Life is Strange, my sympathies was always with the other residents of Arcadia Bay. Be it Joyce Price, the Chloe from the past (or from when you time travelled and managed to change the present – albeit with Chloe the car crash victim) or Kate Marsh (honestly, that scene up on the roof was the most terrifying I’ve ever experienced. Thankfully, I managed to save Kate. A fact I can proudly pat myself on the back for).

In the end, the choice was no choice at all. Bay over bae. Every single time.

As I played Life is Strange 2 and Life is Strange: True Colours, bay over bae was my consistent choice. And in Double Exposure, I told Safi in confidence about losing my good friend Chloe while we ate at the Snapping Turtle after our excursion to an abandoned bowling alley. This choice flavoured Max’s journal entries, how she viewed the world, and the decisions she would choose to make throughout the rest of the game.

While I can’t say what the writers intended, Chloe’s death felt very real in its consequences as to why Max never again used her powers and why she moved from town to town, never settling down to put down roots. The death of her childhood friend, one she got to learn more about before having to undo everything to save Arcadia Bay, was a poignant moment. As was the trauma Max endured at the hands of Mr Jefferson when the two partners-in-crime were trying to uncover the truth behind Rachel Amber’s disappearance.

This and more were handled quite tactfully during a sequence in the last chapter of Double Exposure. It helped provide some insight into Max’s thoughts, and helped solidify the decisions I made at the end (even though I feel like the consequences were minimal).

Unfortunately, there were many elements of Double Exposure that fell short. Especially in terms of the characterisation for Yasmin and new best friend: Safiya Llewellyn-Fayyad. In fact, one of my biggest gripes was how Double Exposure ended with little to no resolution. Safiya’s big 180 degree turn to becoming the the Big Bad Evil Gal did not feel properly earned. Especially when the chapter beforehand saw her and Max publicly tear down Lucas Colmenero for stealing the works of one Maya Okuda and causing her subsequent suicide.

Yes, I know she was feeling betrayed by learning of her mother’s complicity in the death of her friend but she had also sought the revenge she wanted. And, in my playthrough, used her own voice to hit the final nail in Lucas Colmenero’s literary career coffin.

Then, of course, there’s the big question looming over the end of the story. What happened to the Safiya from the Dead World timeline? If the ending to Double Exposure made anything clear, it was that in a desperate bid to save her friend, Max travelled back in time with Safiya after her mental breakdown following the latter shooting her mother. Wanting to rid herself of her pain, Safiya asked her friend to kill her.

In the timeline of the Dead World, alternate Max goes through with it. Setting in motion the events of the game. Our Max, however, does not.

So, it begs the question. When Max travelled back in time with Safiya in tow, did the old Safiya from Dead World go somewhere else? Or, did the Living World Safiya take over the body of her Dead World counterpart? None of this was properly explained and it left me scratching my head.

Not to mention, of course, the time aberrations at the overlook with Detective Alderman and Reggie’s past ghost.

Then there’s the fact the whole doppelganger plot beat was only ever in the Living World timeline. And while, yes, it is implied Safiya from the Dead World timeline was also a shapeshifter, the motivation to kill the dean’s daughter was never quite as evident.

You can’t tell me, Deck Nine, that Safiya only decided to pose as Gwen or Lucas in the two days after her supposed death following the Geminid meteor shower. Like, we know Safiya is a spiteful person. She would have been laying those crumbs a lot earlier. So, even in Dead World, Gwen should have had a hearing for selling drugs to students and Lucas ought to still have a fraught relationship with his son.

These elements and more would have made Safiya’s characterisation feel more consistent across the timelines. As it was, all the relevations Max had, related only to Living World Safi.

And what a character she was.

In many ways, she reminded me of the Rachel Amber we got in Before the Storm. Just like Rachel, Safi is enraged when she finds out their parent is keeping a secret from them. Both are rebellious and sarcastic. But whereas Rachel did not have powers, Safi’s allow her to become anyone she wants by manipulating the perceptions of those around her.

In the end, I feel like Double Exposure would have benefitted from having a little extra time when it came to its development. A little more care in characterisation, letting certain moments breathe, and addressing some of the dangling story threads would have let Max’s latest adventure shine. Instead, the ending felt like a muddled mess, leaving a sour taste in many a player’s mouth as it teased a sequel that would go in a direction many feel would detract from the franchise.

That’s not to say Double Exposure doesn’t have good moments. Because it does! I very much liked how colour and tone shaped the two timelines. Even if it was a little on the nose. Especially with the pirate mural at the Snapping Turtle changing from a happy to sad expression.

Then, of course, there was the opening to Chapter 4 where Max and Safi interrogated each other about the powers they wielded, as well as their intentions. It was tense and showed where each character stood. I was on the edge of my seat wondering where the story would lead.

It was during this fraught conversation that I felt somewhat sympathetic to Safi. Who hasn’t wanted to be someone else when real life and the expectations placed on us becomes too overwhelming? Growing up in an ethnic household, there were moments I wished I had a white family.

Even now, I often feel more connected to the video game characters or the heroes from my fantasy novels, wishing I could take on their life instead of my own. And when Log Horizon came out, I did wonder which MMORPG I would have liked being trapped in for all time. The first answer which came to mind? Final Fantasy XIV.

From a character standpoint, I very much liked Moses, Gwen and Amanda. Moses for being a stalwart ally, and the first person Max was able to talk to about her powers. Gwen for being a headstrong woman who didn’t take shit from anyone. And Amanda, for being a real friend (and possible love interest).

Was it bad I continued to pursue the romance in an alternate timeline? Maybe. But in Max’s defence, I don’t think she ever thought the timelines would ever merge. Is it really manipulation when it’s technically two different people though they share the same memories up to a certain point?

Amanda certainly felt like a better option than Vinh. Who, while he did exude a certainly sexy bad boy appeal, never really felt like a romantic option because of his possible ties the overall mystery (whereas Ryan in True Colours, though he also had an overall connection to Haven Springs, was also a friend who was involved in dumb silly shenanigans to find out the truth behind Gabe’s death) with most of his and Max’s scenes involving her trying to get more information out from him and him being a terrible flirt.

From a gameplay point of view, Double Exposure keeps it simple. There’s not much in terms of puzzles – with many solutions being quite obvious after a thorough examination of one’s environment. Although, I have to admit, the key to Colmenero’s secret safe was a bit of a challenge to find. Had I not looked something up on a walkthrough, I would probably still be scratching my head on how to resolve that chapter.

Overall, I felt like Double Exposure had a decent set-up for what could have been an excellent story. Yet, the ending – especially when it came to Safi’s villain monologue – was badly fumbled. Perhaps if the game was longer and we saw more of how Safi saw those without powers, it would have made more sense.

While I know Deck Nine was strapped for cash during Double Exposure‘s development cycle, I would have also liked a few more locations around Caledon campus to help build out the world. Instead, it felt cramped and almost claustrophobic with the limitations of the game world.

But also, maybe, I don’t know, it might have been better if the stakes in Double Exposure were higher. As it is, I never felt like Max was ever in danger. Nor any of the other characters. At least, in any proper capacity.

So, here’s hoping that if Deck Nine do end up making another sequel starring Max, we can see a proper resolution to this controversial entry that seems to have pushed away many a Life is Strange fan.

Meanwhile, I’ll be here enjoying Lost Records: Bloom & Rage from Don’t Nod.

Divorce At First Sight

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

I am no stranger to attending awkward lunch dates. It’s been a staple of my life ever since I tried my hand at finding a worthy enough partner on Hinge. But in a bid to keep pushing myself outside my comfort zone, I agreed to a combined Lunar New Year and Valentine’s Day event at a suburban RSL where its main clientele seemed to be the old grannies from the local retirement village or families with nothing better to do.

In fact, if I’m being brutally honest, the RSL looked quite abysmally rundown. There was no glitz and glamour like the ones in my usual area. And it certainly wasn’t one I’d wish to attend on a regular basis unless I was on my death bed.

For non-Australians reading this post, RSL stands for the Returned and Services League of Australia. It is an independent support organisation for people who have served or are serving in the Australian Defence Force. More importantly, they have many clubs around the country to provide a venue for current and ex-serve personnel to enjoy a safe and comfortable place to share a meal or drink.

Depending on which suburb you go to they can be well-polished, filled with all manner of entertainment – mostly poker machines – while others look like they’ll be swallowed up the tides of time. The one I attended? Very much in the latter.

Despite my initial reservations, I pushed forward.

After all, I’d already paid $20 to reserve a spot. I couldn’t let it go to waste.

So, after meeting a key selection of other young hopefuls also looking to make connections and possibly match with them, I tried my best to converse with the others. Of course, being more taciturn, it became far more natural for me to sit and observe the proceedings between those who had arrived earlier.

I learned a few interesting facts from each: one of the men had migrated to Australia from Singapore, the woman sitting to his right (my left) was a country girl who had been to numerous cities before settling in Sydney with her family, and the woman sitting to his left (my right) had attended the event with her mother. Seated to my right was a man working in HR for a not-for-profit. On his other side was a woman who was currently at NSW Health.

All of them had vaguely interesting stories to tell. Yet instead of sharing them with the group, they had broken up into smaller pairings to converse.

Overall, it meant it was harder to find a point to jump in. All of them were sequestered in their own silos and I was outsider peering in through the window.

Worse, the man on my left always seemed to have his attention further down the table towards the older guests. While I did try to draw him out for a conversation, it would always end up falling a little flat.

The forced style of the event meant much of the conversations were stilted, relying primarily on small talk to get to know each other. To say it was a bore is putting it mildly. And I remember glancing at my watch wondering when it would be polite to abscond from the event and head home.

I suppose it didn’t help that sitting at the far end, away from the other attendees, it felt like our small group were treated as the ‘kids.’ Or, at the very least, the ‘young ones.’ Just because I’m in my 30s doesn’t mean I always have something to discuss with my fellow contemporaries. As my dating history has shown, not many people my own age, or younger, are equally mature or have an intellectual bent to draw out my curiosity.

Conversation flowed easier after lunch, which we were all required to order separately at the RSL bistro. My order was grilled barramundi with seasonal vegetables and mashed potatoes. A fairly decent and substantial meal given the other options on the menu, and one I dug into with gusto when it was finally ready.

While I could try to add some additional details to the rather lacklustre event, I don’t think I could summon the words. After finishing my lunch, I kept one eye constantly on the time. Once it passed 1:30, I was out of my seat (mostly because I needed to pee after downing my orange juice furiously before ordering lunch because while I was sure no-one would roofie me at an event in broad daylight, I didn’t want to risk the possibility). The others did ask if I was leaving and I told them a half-truth (though I’m sure most would interpret it as a lie).

Suffice it to say, I did not return to my seat afterwards. Instead, after paying a visit to the toilet, I bade goodbye to the host and slipped away.

And so I brought an end to the sham once and for all to seek the comfort of my video games and the sanctity of my home. I mean, if we’re being completely and absolutely honest here, even though I think Cloud Strife is a bit of a limp noodle with absolutely no real charisma to speak of (besides how adorkable he can be sometimes), he’s still a leg up from those at the lunch. Besides, he’s ex-SOLDIER and could probably cleave me in two with one swipe of the Buster Sword.

Now, dear reader, I can almost hear you ask if I’ll attend any further of these events. And while I cannot completely rule them out, it’s doubtful I’ll put my hand up in the near future.

Falling in love with complete strangers is not really in my wheelhouse. Sure, I do get the occasional squish but it’s rare and few between. Especially when fanfiction can get me hot and bothered when I do fall for a fictional character from a book, TV show, movie or video game.

I mean, if all else fails, there’s always AI! Or I can get a pet!

As an aside, getting a dog looks better and better with each passing year.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

I never owned an original PlayStation. While I had a family friend who did, the games they had for the console did not include the likes of the Final Fantasy franchise. Indeed, my first encounter with the series was Final Fantasy X on the PlayStation 2. Given the fact my model was not backwards compatible, my lack of funds due to being only in secondary school, I never did get to enjoy the wonders of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII or Final Fantasy IX.

That, of course, didn’t stop me from pouring over online wikis to understand the plot of the various games. Nor did it stop me from reading over the character summaries and histories. Especially as many of them made cameos in Kingdom Hearts (my first real video game love).

When YouTube entered my periphery in Year 8, I was soon able to watch playthrough after playthrough of the games. But the only one that truly caught my imagination like no other was Final Fantasy VII.

Thinking back on it and how my obsession began, I like to think Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children played a very significant role. It certainly had everything little Kyndaris would have wanted in a film. The fact it was all CGI only made it all the more fascinating because of how realistic the models looked. Coupled with beloved characters and a story filled with multitudes, I was instantly hooked.

The relationship with the original game only further deepened with the release of Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core on the PlayStation Portable, as well as Dirge of Cerberus on PlayStation 2 (although, I must admit, I did not actually play through DoC but merely watched all the gameplay and cutscenes pertaining to the overarching plot). Heck, I even read fanfiction for the game!

As I got older, however, time would prove to be my biggest barrier to grabbing a copy of Final Fantasy VII when it released on PlayStation 3. There were so many new titles releasing! Saddled first with study and then with a full-time job, it was difficult to find the time, or justify its use, to play through a hefty video game that released in the late 90s.

Enter Final Fantasy VII: Remake.

While the first game of the Remake trilogy was focused solely on the Midgar portion of the original, Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth sees Cloud and the gang navigate poignant story beats afterwards: from Kalm to Junon to Corel and then Gongaga and Nibelheim. Everything culminates to the ending of the very first disc: the death of Aerith in the Forgotten Capital.

With Final Fantasy VII: Remake shocked with its plot of breaking free from the shackles of fate, many wondered if Aerith’s ultimate fate could be prevented. After all, rumours had abounded during the late 90s to early 00s that it was possible to revive the last Cetra before confronting Sephiroth at the Northern Crater.

Rebirth, it must be said, does flirt with the idea Cloud (and, by extension, the player) is able to save Aerith from being skewered by Sephiroth. However, the ending of the game does see Cloud fail to properly parry the blow and the flower girl meets her demise after praying to the planet to summon forth Holy.

Yet this is not quite the end.

For, as established in the ending of Remake, there are multiple worlds. Though Aerith does perish on her journey with Cloud and friends, she is still alive in an alternate world. More than that, being part of the Lifestream, she is able to interact with the timelines and make changes as needed in her bid to counteract Sephiroth’s nefarious plans to reunite all the disparate worlds together and rule over it all as its god.

Time will tell what further changes will be made.

But I have to say, seeing Cloud acting as Sephiroth’s puppet and being unable to resist his pull was quite frightening to see in Chapter 13: Where Angels Fear to Tread. The little giggle he did as he reached for the Black Materia, how he stalked after Aerith, pleading with her to just give him the Black Materia, and then how he seemed to defer to his lord and master when presenting the precious Black Materia to Sephiroth.

It certainly made for some chilling imagery when I played through it late at night, work waiting for me on the other side.

More than that, it showed how terrifying strong Sephiroth’s hold on poor Cloud was. Resisting still saw Cloud stumble reluctantly forward.

All of which just points to how good Sephiroth is able to gaslight, gatekeep and girlboss his way through the world of Gaia with nary a trouble. In fact, his entire modus operandi for most of the game is manipulation. Be it Rufus Shinra to the ongoing conflict between Shinra and Wutai. Not to mention, of course, the many black robe pawns he has at his disposal.

What’s worse is how Sephiroth is always there, dancing at the edges of Cloud’s mind.

Even during his happiest moments, the shadow of the man who destroyed his village remains. There is no time for grief or sorrow. Only anger and hate.

In fact, it reminded me a lot of the book I read for my work bookclub: Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. For years, the Bird remained with Louis Zamperini. Though the war had ended and they were separated by the Pacific Ocean, the Bird remained a constant in Zamperini’s mind, haunting his dreams. It was only by letting go and forgiving the man that Zamperini was able to move on with his life.

This is a theme that is further compounded in Aerith’s message at the end of everyone’s trials during the sequence in the Temple of the Ancients. While anger, pain and loss can lend people strength, true strength relies in the power of forgiveness. Of being able to look past what has happened to reach for a better future.

Despite her entreaties, it falls on deaf ears. At least in the case of one Cloud Strife.

My only gripe with the story remains how abrupt it ends. There is no proper resolution to Final Fantasy 7: Rebirth and I feel like this is because it is sandwiched between Part 1 and Part 3. The threat of Sephiroth remains though they manage to fight him off. Then, too, there are the further mysteries introduced right at the end as to Aerith’s ultimate fate. Mixed in with the various timeline strands, I felt Rebirth’s story left much to be desired.

On the bright side, I very much liked how goofy the rest of the game was when it wasn’t focused on the conflict between Cloud, Sephiroth and the fate of the planet. The sidequests were a delight as were many of the minigames (although 3D Brawler and Fort Condor can vanish from Part 3 and I wouldn’t shed a tear. Oh, and the crunches/ pull ups. I pray Jules does not make a reappearance. I don’t think I can take the pressure of trying to beat him. Again). But it was the moments of levity that I adored the most.

In no particular, they are as below:

  • Nanaki’s voice and personality change
  • Nanaki pretending to be a human in order to play Queen’s Blood on Shinra-8
  • Cloud Jr.
  • Cloud and Tifa turning into frogs
  • Any time Stamp’s theme played. Bow wow wow, indeed!
  • The ending to the Moogle quest line (even though the Moogles themselves look like eldritch horrors to me), kupo!

Runner-ups?

  • The ending to the chicken sidequest in Gongaga.
  • Nanaki riding a chocobo
  • The fake tonberry adjusting humidity levels
  • The bald bar

I’m sure there are plenty of other moments I’m forgetting but these were the ones that stood out the most to me during my time playing through Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth, and which helped elevate it beyond the stereotypical open world role-playing game.

Then, of course, there’s the pivotal question one must ask.

Who did I go on a Gold Saucer date with?

Well, dear reader, if you’ve followed me for quite a while, you know the answer would be obvious.

I even had to sabotage some of my answers with the other team members just to ensure it was Tifa Lockhart I ascended the Skywheel gondola with.

Was it strange to have Tifa go on a date with Cloud after he nearly murdered her at the Gongaga reactor? Perhaps. But Tifa is a better woman than I in how she managed to forgive him for his actions.

True, Cloud wasn’t in his right mind and was being controlled – a fact Tifa notices from the very beginning (and which she makes note of several times in the games but never truly confronts Cloud over. Honestly, if there was a psychiatrist in the game, perhaps Sephiroth’s manipulations would be less effective. Then again, Sephiroth would probably BE the psychiatrist. He would be masquerading to help out a pal Cloud but he’d really be subjecting the poor country boy to some more effective brainwashing), but I couldn’t help feel she ought to make Cloud take ownership for his unhinged behaviour. Especially in the latter chapters of the game. Still, I suppose when you’re faced with someone who is quite strong but mentally unstable, you wouldn’t want them fighting against you.

The other aspect of Rebirth I liked very much was how close the rest of the team were. Seeing Tifa and Aerith confide and support each other, the occasions where they had to share a room…

In all honesty, I ship Tifa x Aerith more than either one of them with Cloud.

Yes, country boy can be well-meaning at times but he’s so aloof and stoic most of the time. Would it kill him to smile? And not the deranged one he sent Aerith’s way when she was talking about her Ancient heritage at Cosmo Canyon? That was such a ‘yikes’ moment for me.

From a gameplay perspective, Rebirth adds additional flourishes to what was a solid combat system. What I love the most was how different each character felt (although Aerith and Cait Sith were the ones I struggled with the most). I also liked how the game encouraged me to switch more between the three-party members during battle, whether it was a boss fight or even just normal enemies in the overworld.

As an open-world game, I liked how each region had its own unique biome and was never too big. While interruptions from Chadley and MAI could have been dialled down a little, they did little to tarnish my desire to see all that the worlds had to offer. Especially with the different ways each region could be traversed by their very own Chocobo.

Then, of course, there are the countless minigames scattered throughout. While I know bleachpanda tired of them, I never felt they were too intrusive. After all, I’ve played the Like a Dragon series. And if there is one game series where there are minigames galore, it would have to be Like a Dragon (and while I’m not entirely sure when I’ll find the time to get through Infinite Wealth, I know I’ll spend an inordinately long time going through Dondoko Island and Sicko Snap).

Although, to be fair, maybe my experience with playing games of multiple genres meant I was well-versed for such diversions. Like the Piano Association side activity (something which bleachpanda struggled with because skill issue, and which I mostly breezed through. That said, the fact the final one is locked behind a sidequest for Tifa and has her playing Aerith’s theme at her rebuilt home made absolutely no sense to me. I still killed it, by the way. A rank, first try.).  

Suffice it to say, I very much enjoyed Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth. Like Astro Bot before it, the game was an absolute blast. More importantly, it was fun (when I wasn’t struggling with 3D Brawler). It’s a testament to the writing that the game was able to balance the goofier silly moments with the serious. And while it didn’t quite stick the landing, I know I’ll be looking forward to seeing how Part 3 brings the Remake trilogy to the end.

Now, if only Sephiroth can stop acting like a jilted ex.

I mean, the power balance between him and Cloud is completely off! He’s a hero, for crying out loud, and Cloud is…well…just a country boy Shinra grunt. The fact Seephiroth sees Cloud as the only puppet he is willing to keep around says a lot and none of it good.

MOVE ON, SEPHIROTH! JENOVA most definitely doesn’t need to see her babe-licious son bring home a spiky-haired blond to dinner.

Sometimes, it’s hard to say if you’re gaslighting Cloud or if you’re gaslighting yourself to think you need Cloud to keep you relevant. In any case, it’s not a good look. And YOU, my dear Sephiroth, have a reputation to maintain.

Fake It Til You Make It

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

It’s with a heavy heart that I admit, once again, I have yet to finish off Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth at time of writing up this post. While I’m certain the ending is not far off, there’s a plethora of side activities demanding my attention including the likes of Queen’s Blood and secondary quests. Oh, and competing in the Musclehead Coliseum at the Gold Saucer. But I’m certain my next post will most assuredly be all about our Gaslight, Gatekeep and Girlboss queen: Sephiroth!

Honestly, if the world of Gaia actually had an Employee Assistance Program and a slew of therapists at their beck and call, I’m a hundred percent certain Sephiroth would not be able to so easily manipulate main protagonist Cloud Strife into doing his bidding.

Of course, that’s a blog for another day!

Speaking of therapy, though, I’m certain I’d be perfect picture of a client who is intellectualises many of my problems and is quite self-aware of the glaring issues I need to address. Unfortunately, knowing what I need to do is a lot easier than actually putting in the effort. Take, for example, the very real impostor syndrome I felt when I’d been offered a chance to act up at my work place.

The anxiety bubbling in my stomach, the spiralling thoughts…

This was, despite the fact, I’d grown bored with my role and was actively looking for something a little bit more challenging. I think a part of it was because the supervisor for the new team, when he called me, had glanced through my resume and had pinpointed several aspects he thought beneficial to the role I’d be taking up. Namely, Microsoft Excel.

Of course, I’d tried to dissuade him of his assumptions. After all, for most of my working life, Excel has simply been a means of inputting data. There is no sorting, no freeze rowing or actually pivot tabling of the information at hand. That is reserved for another member of our team. One who eat, sleeps and breathes spreadsheets.

I just know how to do basic functions. Like filtering or creating new columns.

Using something like vlookup, though? No. No way. Not in my wheelhouse. Heck, any formula besides sum and a few other simple functions are way out of my scope. I wouldn’t know the first thing about them. At all.

And yet, here I was, being trusted to assist with an important report and finally use my brain to critically analyse the information that would go in it, noting any important trends that may have cropped up. Wasn’t this something I’d wanted to do since I’d got my degree in Social Science? Yes, the quantitative data before me wasn’t entirely related to criminology, but it was a start.

I think part of it comes from being a gifted child when I was younger. One who attended school with other gifted children. Growing up was not easy when everyone else was just as intelligent, if not more so, than you. Coupled with my mother’s expectations to be more perfect, is it any wonder I came away from it saddled with crippling self-doubt and low self-esteem?

While failure is a great fear I’ve harboured for many a long while, it seems passingly strange that it doesn’t always carry over into everything I do. Take video games, for example. In many a game, especially platformers, I’ve often had to retry levels multiple times to get past it. Each time, of course, learning what I did wrong and how I might improve. Yes, sometimes I’d be convinced it was the game’s fault and not mine, but I’d persist.

And if persistence didn’t pay off after a significant period, I knew I could always lower the difficulty.

Failing in real life, however, is a different ordeal. Or so it feels.

While I know each failure I commit won’t lead to the heat-death of the universe, and that it’s a learning experience, I find it hard to accept I may not always be good at something from the onset. After all, theoretical principles, once explained, are understandable to an extent. And if I’m following an instructor, doing as he does during special targeted training with minimal requests for help, it must mean I innately know the content. Right?

Well, no. Because training in a closed and guided environment doesn’t always translate to the exterior world.

Take for example, driving a car. Let it be known, dear reader, I failed my driving test twice before finally passing my third go.

It was this very reason that I found problematic when it came to my degree at university. Sure, we used the programs available for the students, but there was a distinct lack of focus for the wider applications for the knowledge I was attaining. There was no course for extrapolating information from an Excel database. Qualitative data was nigh impossible to assess for the end-of-term project unless the responses were individually sifted through. And none of what I was doing seemed to reflect the kind of work I’d face in a professional setting.

Quite frankly, it was a bit of a mess.

Fast forward to the current day and I’m all but drowning my fear that I’ll mess up and make a fool of myself. Even as I know I’m a quick learner and could pick up the skills after a few tries.

But in the back of my mind, the doubt remains. The harsh inner critic telling me I’ll never be enough. That the people around me will judge me for not immediately knowing what needs to be done and how. Even though I know they’d only have picked me out of the gods-know-how-many other candidates who had also thrown their hat into the ring (maybe it was one. Maybe it was two. Or perhaps it was a neat hundred. One can only dream, right? Like winning the lotto?)

And maybe it’s also the reason why I struggle with finding love. Sometimes I wonder if part of the reason why I can’t seem to connect with anyone is actually a form of self-sabotage. My own self-hatred getting in the way of me creating a lasting connection with the strangers I meet. Then again…it could be just that many of the people I’ve met haven’t really wowed me or met my stringent standards.

What I do know is that the person I have a crush on?

I’m scared they might reject me if I were to find a quiet time to tell them of my feelings. Yes, my friend (who is their cousin) has told me that there might be a sort of reciprocity (or, at least, they seem to attend events if they know I might be there), it’s still a little hard for me to know with absolute certainty it’ll end merrily.

Still, I suppose that’s the risk of life.

There is no certainty. No control over the will of others.

The act of being vulnerable sets one up to being hurt.

To failing.

To being unmasked as the impostor one is.

But it’s only by embracing that very thing, and putting oneself out of their comfort zone, that we can grow. I don’t know what the future will bring but I have told myself that after my mother comes back from overseas and I’m no longer stressed about caring for my elderly grandmother, I should, at least, try for the possibility of happiness. Whether that be a new career path or even finding myself a possible life partner.

For now, I’ll have to settle for proving to myself how much of an asset I can be to my new team. And if I struggle a little bit, that’s good. Because it means I’ve finally come up against a challenge. Something I’ve been looking for since my previous role has led to a lot of stagnation in what I actually want to achieve (not that I have a lot of ambitions when it came to the work place – please, can a publisher just reach out and offer me a contract to write books? I swear I can write something people of all ages would enjoy!).

So here’s to pretending I know exactly how Microsoft Excel works and looking at endless spreadsheets for the next six months! Huzzah!

The Rise of the Anti-Woke

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

As someone who plays video games, it should come as no surprise I would have an ear to the ground when it comes to new game announcements. After all, I’m chest-deep in a backlog of games bought on various platforms and only adding more to it with every release. In fact, when this post goes up, it’ll be March and I can confirm in advance that I’ll still be playing all the games I bought back in early 2024 (why were there so many role-playing and extensive open-world games? Why?! Couldn’t there have been shorter games in 2024?) because that’s how far behind I am.

While all of them are single-player (because why would ANYONE ever touch multiplayer), I don’t think it disqualifies me from speaking out about video games in general. Nor do I think it precludes me from discussing my sentiments on a very vocal minority that has seemingly taken over the internet. Yes. You all know where this is going.

It’s time to talk about the ‘woke’ elephant in the room.

In an earlier post about Astro Bot, I made a sarcastic reference to how ‘woke’ the game was. Look deep enough and you can find it: from the community-focused collectivism of how the bots live their lives to the very fact Astro transforms into various iconic PlayStation icons. Heck, there’s even a stage where Astro cleans up pollution on a beach!

All of this and more could be considered ‘woke.’

Especially as many grifters have made it clear it’s a blanket term where anything with even a whiff of inclusivity or ‘liberal’ politics falls underneath it. So, by that very definition, almost all games and mass media could be considered ‘woke’ in some form or fashion.

Of course, what makes a game, film or television series ‘woke trash’ is whether or not it’s ‘pushing an agenda.’ But what does that even mean?

Is it based on the narrative? What about the characters, main or side? A flag, perhaps, in the background in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scene? Or is it simply the choice at the start of a game to choose your pronouns?

To many on the internet, simply being given a choice at the start of the game to create your own character is a minefield of ‘liberal’ politics being shoved down their throats. How dare a game ask if I’m a boy or a girl? And force me to input a Proper Noun to be addressed by! This is DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) nonsense being put into my video game and I don’t like it! Why can’t I just be an able-bodied cisgendered heterosexual white man?

Seeing all the bad faith comments on social media pages and YouTube videos have been frustrating to the extreme. It’s the same old tired argument trotted out over and over again.

As soon I saw the trailers for Ghost of Yotei , Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet and Witcher 4 (both games which I’m sure to buy as soon as they release), I knew without a doubt there would be a flood of negativity from capital G ‘Gamers’ saying they would flop. My dudes, the game isn’t even out. All you have is a teaser trailer with nary an idea of what components making up the game.

For all you know, even if the story doesn’t quite land, you might still be enamoured by the combat system. Or there could be a gameplay mechanic that scratches an itch you never knew you had.

But even if a game included more inclusive characters beyond the default white man (and it is a default as one study has shown), what harm does it do you? Why is it so hard for people to step into the shoes of someone with a different perspective than they do? Or try to understand someone with different lived experiences?

After all, the world is filled with a variety of people from ALL walks of life. Being a Caucasian man is simply NOT the default when compared to the vast array of lived experiences.

With that said, why is it only ever ‘not woke’ (in instances where a white man isn’t the lead) when the main female protagonist is hot and sexy? Why can’t women be goofy? Or be a little pear-shaped with peach fuzz on their face?

People come in all shapes and sizes. Some might be more dainty and innocent, while others are hardened by what life has thrown their way. And, in real life, there is no such thing as a ‘woke nose’ or ‘woke chin.’ It’s simply genetics.

More than that, the defined jawline on a muscle mummy can still be, and in most circumstances is, hot and sexy.

My only answer here is that empathy is a skill not many have.

People like what they like and are content to forever live in their echo chambers, trapped in an us versus them mentality.

It’s exhausting.

No longer do I dare to watch videos essays on YouTube for fear it’ll be another anti-woke chud trying to shove their agenda down my throat about why a game will fail. Especially when there are a myriad of factors for why a game does not live up to expectations. For example, if it’s live service. Then there’s the fact many might be suffering from video game fatigue as they burn out on ever increasing worlds.

There is much to be said about the state of gaming in our current times. Innovation is few and far between, with a lot of the most interesting ideas coming from indie developers. Look no further to our big three publishers: EA, Ubisoft and Activision-Blizzard. So many of their games, along with their sequels, are carbon-copies of each other.

I’d like to think the main issue facing most gamers today is the stagnation of novel ideas. That, and the fact the video game market is completely and utterly saturated.

While newcomers to video games might enjoy the diverse options on the market, those of us who have been playing video games for a very long time have already seen many of the tropes and mechanics on display. To some, playing through something familiar is welcome. To others, it’s lazy design or trend-chasing.

There is no right answer when it comes to video game development.

In my case, if a game is solely fighting, sports or multiplayer focused, I’m entirely uninterested. The games I enjoy are narrative-focused single-player affairs. This means there are a slew of video games out in the world I’m missing out on. With many a game company not earning a single dollar from me.

But I don’t blame the games that don’t catch my eye on whatever ‘politics’ they might be pushing. They’re simply not for me and that’s fine. I don’t have to play it. Someone else will.

The problem that I’ve often seen in cases with Assassin’s Creed: Shadows and Dragon Age: Veilguard is when people who never even intended to play the game try to convince others it’s not worth their time based on a trailer or whatever anti-woke news article the social media algorithm pushes their way. Even within my own friendship circle, I saw the same old strawman arguments about how Assassin’s Creed: Shadows was trying to push the woke DEI angle by having Yasuke as the main character (as if they had completely forgotten about Naoe). Or, that it was historically inaccurate and it would be better if the game focused on William Adams, an actual foreign-born samurai.

True, when the game does release in March, the story it tells might be pushing an agenda (and in the Assassin’s Creed franchise it’s usually the debate about freedom versus order, sticking up for the poor and disenfranchised, and stabbing a lot of people in the upper echelons of society because they’ve abused their power), but is it fair to say the game will fail because of it?

Everything we consume has some form of politics in it. Books, films, shows and games are created by people. And what we, as humans, believe, or think, might be a good story or game mechanic comes from our beliefs and lived experiences. Some of it might be political but it is also important to understand what we, as players, bring to the game and our interpretation of its events.

Take Final Fantasy XVI for example. In the plight faced by Valisthea, I saw the effects of climate change wrecking havoc upon the world. Beyond the story of slavery and the abuse of magic-users, I viewed Ultima as the oligarchs in our modern society taking what they want without thought for the common man because they thought themselves better. Yet a friend of mine who also played the game simply accepted the story as told without thought upon the deeper meanings behind it all.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if a game is ‘woke’ or ‘anti-woke.’ What matters to most Gamers is whether it’s fun.

In this day and age, I felt Astro Bot gave me the most joy out of any game in recent history because it was unabashed in its game design. There was a levity to it that has been absent for many triple-A titles. And I think I’m beginning to understand what makes or breaks a game – at least when it comes to my tastes.

Sure, Final Fantasy XVI was all very ‘realistic’ and ‘grim’ in the story it was telling, and some would say it pushed certain boundaries, but I found myself enjoying Final Fantasy VII Rebirth more. Why? Because despite the threat to the Planet they live on, the game isn’t afraid to be just a little goofy. I also think it’s why the Like a Dragon series had become so beloved.

Of course, if too many games start following the trend, it may lose some of its lustre. There is still something to be said of serious games with a strong focus on being cinematic blockbusters.

And yes, all of these games, past, present and future, are all ‘woke’ in some flavour or another. If you push hard enough.

Peruvian Delights

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Back in primary school, some of the books I’d read cover to cover were the Horrible Histories series by Terry Deary. Learning new facts about human history had always been fascinating to me (although, admittedly, most of them were fixated on British and European history). I’d pour over them, committing what I read to memory as best I could (alas, I don’t have, and never will have, an eidetic memory). My desire to learn also extended to Horrible Science and Horrible Geography, which proved helpful in Year 7 where I was able to win a point of trivia because I was the only one in my class who knew about the San Andreas Fault.

One of the Horrible Histories books I remember enjoying very much was the one about Incans. And with the film: Emperor’s New Groove releasing in cinemas during the early 2000s, I wanted to learn more about his seemingly ancient civilisation that only seemed to be rarely touched.

Admittedly, growing up, I did turn my attention to Aztec and Mayan societies because of the whole blood sacrifices and the removal of hearts, but if there was one place I wanted to visit (besides Egypt and the city of Petra in Jordan), it was Machu Picchu. That and the Nazca Lines, which have featured in many forms of media like Yu-Gi-Oh 5D, as well as in books like Anthony Horowitz’s Power of Five series.

Unfortunately, I’ve not had the opportunity to travel to Peru. So, when the Australian Museum announced an upcoming exhibit of Machu Picchu and the Golden Empires of Peru, I was eager to attend. After all, there was so much I wanted to see and understand about ancient Andean societies. Especially when it came to how the people lived and their belief systems.

The only problem? Finding someone who would be amenable to attend with me.

While I’d initially planned to go on a weekend, Dikottir and I ended up attending on a Wednesday night. He’d, of course, looked up a few events adjacent to the exhibit and discovered Peruvian Nights wherein the Australian Museum would remain open until late with live music, free film screenings and have a smorgasbord of Peruvian-inspired snacks. Or so he had been led to believe.

Spoiler alert: most of his choices were taken from him and we both ended up with Pork sausages with tomato chutney. No beef pies or empanadas. Or even the Peruvian bowl. I mean, there was a salad. But what hot-blooded man, or woman, would choose a healthy salad for dinner?

With our stomachs not quite as full as we had hoped, Dikottir and I made our way into the actual Machu Picchu exhibit. Though we were a tad bit early for our appointed session, the staff were still able to scan our tickets. In, we went, settling down first for an informational video about the various Andean societies and their close ties to nature, before we shuffled off the first hall. Here, it was revealed that the cosmology of the Andean world had three worlds: the Upper World where birds soared and was inhabited by the Sun and the celestial gods, the Here and Now occupied by humans and non-human creatures, and the Inner World which was associated with the night and was where the ancestors lived.

The separation of the worlds was represented by steps. Considering the mountainous region many of them lived in, it was understandable why step designs were found everywhere. This also impacted how they grew crops, utilising constructed agricultural terraces to increase the amount of arable land. Of course, the Incans were not the only ones to use terrace farming. As an aside to Dikottir, I pondered aloud if the rumoured Hanging Gardens of the Babylon had not used similar technology. After all, it would make sense for a ‘hanging’ garden to, well, hang over the side.

From there, we looked around at the other artefacts on display. Most of it was pottery shaped into specific animals: snake, jaguar, owl and hummingbird. However, there were also ones showcasing hybrid chimaeras.

Given their close connection to nature, many Andean societies had shamans. These were individuals that were able to communicate between the Here and Now and the other worlds. More importantly, they were also bequeathed with the power of animals. This, they were able to channel with psychotropic drugs and/ or fancy headwear.

Of course, when it came to depicting shamans, most of the artefacts Dikottir and I saw showed them as half-man and half-beast.

Oh, to be a were-jaguar or were-owl.

Before we descended down into the Inner World, however, we did get to see several other statues. One, in particular, drew my eye. Like many a civilisation before, and after them, Andean societies put a lot of emphasis on fertility and male virility. A skull-like entity, next to a woman with a gaping hole right below her pelvis, had a huge erect phallus. One he was eagerly holding in his hands.

Next to it were two statues of the ancestors. Apparently, in the Andean afterlife, the ancestors continue to copulate. Their deaths not an end but a new beginning, bringing forth new life. But seeing an artefact titled ‘Ancestors masturbating’ certainly had the ten-year-old in me giggling. Especially when the woman was clearly doing most of the work as she worked her hand on her partner’s appendage.

The Inner World brought us face to face with a shape-shifting hero of mythical proportions: Ai Apaec. A figure of Moche culture, he was a hero known for travelling to different worlds to ensure the continuation of nature’s cycles. Along the way, he is gifted with the ability to transform into various creatures including a crab and pufferfish. Along the way, he had a loyal buzzard and a dog to keep him company on his travels.

On his quest to return the sun to the world, and to ensure crops rainfall for crops, he would also be decapitated, his head transforming into a veritable skull. Of course, he is later saved and brought back to life through the power of…um…well…sex. Sex brings him back to life. And it also brings back his ability to propagate.

Honestly, there needs to be a video game about this guy. The lore, his powers and the story itself just lends itself perfectly to the media. Sorrengail, if you’re reading this blog post, THIS was the video game idea I was proposing to you. And you can even insert the ‘MASSIVE DAMAGE’ meme into it if you so chose.

And, best of all, he appears in pop culture! As a villain in the grander Marvel universe! Something almost akin to Ezekiel Sim, the villain of the less than stellar Madame Web film that came out in 2024.

From the Inner World we moved to a different section of the exhibit. This one was focused on the attire of the nobility and how the splendour of their outfits reflected their role and status in society. Even warriors wore impressive regalia made of gold and silver, especially those of high status and close connection to the gods. Of particular note were the nose ornaments and the coccyx protector as can be seen in the picture below.

It wasn’t long before Dikottir and I reached the end of the exhibit, which highlighted Machu Picchu. Unfortunately, the information there was a little scarce on details. Though the fortress was not discovered by the Spanish conquistadors, it did fade into obscurity and was retaken by the surrounding jungle. Over the years, locals still retained knowledge of its location but it was brough to the attention of the wider world by a Yale professor, Hiram Bingham.

After we had seen our fill of the exhibit, we stopped by the gift shop. Both of us bought llama rubber ducks for friends we weren’t sure we would catch-up with anytime soon. I also purchased a woven bookmark and an ‘erotic humorous magnet.’ Or so my receipt tells me. Dikottir, too, also bought a magnet. Supposedly as a gift for his mum who seems to share my sense of humour.

With that, our expedition to Machu Picchu and the Golden Empires of Peru came to a close. While we did enjoy some additional music, and dance, in the Australian Museum proper, we later headed towards Town Hall for some light dessert.

And so my date with Dikottir came to its inexorable end.

While I don’t mind his company (we do share quite similar views in terms of politics), I’m not sure either of us are romantically keen on the other. We certainly haven’t jumped on adding personal phone numbers or officially ‘friending’ each other on Facebook. Nor do we text on a daily or regular basis.

In fact, during our ‘date’, I’d find my attention wandering to the others also exploring the exhibit or who were simply at the Australian Museum and indulging in the Peruvian vibe. What surprised me the most whilst there were the number of sapphic couples I saw.

Maybe I’m more sensitive since the CaitVi brainrot, but I couldn’t help but somewhat wish I had a woman keeping me company.

Alas, Hinge is now gone. And while I do still seem to have a squish/ crush on someone in my friendship circle, nothing has actually eventuated. Despite the advice I’ve given to friends, I, too, am a filthy coward.

Time will tell if I’ll ever end up with someone.

There’s still a Valentine’s Day/ Lunar New Year celebration I’m attending soon (which will actually be a couple of weeks prior to when this blog post goes up) where I might meet someone (although it does seem to cater for heterosexual couples more). Until then, dear reader, I bid you adieu.

The Burden of Care

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

It is a truth universally accepted that a person in their mid-to-late twenties, in possession of a good fortune, must have moved out from home and be living on their own. Be it their own property or in a rental (and in this economy, it’s most likely a rental). But I must confess, dear reader, that I, a woman in her early thirties with a decent savings account, still remain at home. Of course, this was not all by choice. I did try to leave home multiple times. First when I was younger and had fights with my parents (though I’d only disappear for an hour or two – something which led a friend at work to break out in peals of laughter). Then an attempt only a couple years ago after I’d had enough of the ongoing battles with personal space, independence and the thousandth speech of how me, a woman barely 155 centimetres in height, was tearing the family apart.

Unfortunately, the rising cost of living, indicated by the interest rates, meant I could not afford to move out. Not to mention the falling out I had with my possible flatmate at the time.

Thankfully though, my relationship with certain family members thawed somewhat afterwards. But it was still a fraught living arrangement. Until, my mother, in her infinite wisdom, stepped away from work at the tender age of 61.

Initially, she claimed this was to look after my grandmother (her mother). However, freed from the expectations of her high demand job, she decided it was the perfect time to live the life she had wanted since her marriage to my stepfather back when I was still a teenager.

With my, somewhat reluctant, blessing, as well as my grandmother’s, she headed to China. And I was left to saddle the work of caring for an octogenarian.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My relationship with my grandmother has always been fairly positive. While we may have quite different ways in how we perceive the world, there is still a strong bond between us. No doubt strengthened by the time we spent together when I was still a ankle-biting menace, and watered by the unconditional affection she has constantly showered me with. But there have been moments in the last year and bit where I’ve felt my patience fray. Or have felt far too overwhelmed with the responsibilities I did not ask for.

Unfortunately, familial duty and the expectations of those around me have meant I’ve continued to shoulder most of the burden alone. That and the fact my grandmother’s stubbornness means she won’t ask anyone for help (unless it’s me. Or my mother).

It’s a lot. Especially when I feel like I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

But there have also been certain incidences that have made the experience worse. When I’ve felt all but powerless to provide her the support she so desperately needs.

My grandmother had endured several chronic illnesses. When she was young, she broke her leg. For more than half a century, she has lived with the reality of having one leg shorter than the other because her leg never healed quite right. While it never impacted her too significantly, she was never as mobile as other able-bodied people. What would take me, or my mother, ten minutes to traverse, she would need upwards of twenty to twenty-five.

All of that changed when she caught COVID at the tail end of 2022. For the first time, she would actively complain of the pain in her thighs and find it difficult to stand for long periods of time without taking some sort of painkiller. While it was gradual at first, it was exacerbated during our trip to Egypt and Turkiye. And, upon our return, she seemed less and less capable of standing on her own two feet.

Cue my mother’s exit.

Every day for nigh on a fortnight, my grandmother would grouse to me about the pain. How the medication she took, mostly paracetamol but sometimes ibuprofen, wasn’t really alleviating any of the pain she was experiencing. Or, if it was effective, there were side effects she didn’t like.

I was at a loss on what to do. She had already visited her general practitioner multiple times. Heck, she even had the poor lady on speed dial. But when bedrest did not solve her problem, we’d encouraged her to stay active to prevent muscle atrophy. I’d also suggested distractions to keep her mind off what she could not control by encouraging her to partake in mahjong clubs or practicing her singing.

None of it seemed to work. She was solely focused on curing her legs.

Except the solutions presented by the doctors were not steps she wanted to take. After all, why commit to surgery now when she had already gone through life without it?

Then, in November 2023, she told me she had lost vision in her left eye.

At the time, she had phrased it in a way that hadn’t sounded too serious. Just months before, her ophthalmologist had conducted cataract surgery on the eye and it was possible she was simply experiencing some discomfort or irritation. At her direction, I sent him an email.

And that was when she began to panic, stating her vision had gone dark.

I called his office then and we arranged an appointment as soon as we could. Once we arrived at his office, we waited nigh on two hours for a diagnosis before we were informed we needed to head to the emergency department of the Sydney Eye Hospital.

What should have been a routine check to ease her fears turned into an hours’ long nightmare. I didn’t get home until after midnight whereas my grandmother had been hospitalised so they could conduct further tests.

For an entire week, I waited on tenterhooks to see if she would be discharged. Colleagues and friends checked in, of course. But they always asked how my grandmother was doing. If she was holding up all right.

They never asked how I was doing.

Until one colleague at work did. And I felt myself unravelling.

Though I told him I was hanging on, the pressures of not knowing if my grandmother was going to be fine, had slowly built up over the days. My mother was still overseas and while, true, my cousin was in Australia and also had the means of checking in on our octogenarian relative, I felt myself adrift.

It probably didn’t help that I’d already suffered the loss of a close family relation when I was child. But I do know that I wasn’t ready to lose my grandmother. Not then.

Perhaps not ever.

In that moment of vulnerability, I stepped away from the computer, sat down on the ground, and cried.

I cried again late 2024 when I had to deal with both my dissatisfaction in the work place and the pressures of home, including my grandmother’s unwillingness to listen to either me or my mother on what was best for her (instead, she was allowing herself to be swayed by her greedy Aged Healthcare support workers), and I just snapped. Not at her, of course, though there was a lot of heat in my words. But I felt like a tiny speck of sand against the waves of the ocean. Once again, overwhelmed. With little to no support for what felt like an impossible task.

Heck, I even let out a primal scream in the car as I drove to catch-up with my friends for a spot of badminton. But it didn’t alleviate any of the pressure. I was just left empty. Despondent.

There was no longer anything left in me to continue pretending everything was fine.

Taking care of people is hard.

While I do want to be there for my grandmother, there are times when I just want to step away and have someone else take the responsibility from me. And though I don’t want her to think she’s burden on me, the truth is, if I was living alone, there would be a weight taken off my shoulders.

I wouldn’t have to hurry back home after a night out with my friends. I wouldn’t turn down an invitation for an impromptu road trip up the coast because I’m worried what might happen if she were to take a nasty fall at home. And I wouldn’t be so taxed with making decisions on what to buy and cook for lunch and dinner, calculating whether or not she had enough nutrients from my homecooked meals.

Still, I suppose I ought to count my blessings.

Most of her chronic conditions aren’t so bad. And when she came back from her brief trip to China last year, there seemed to be some improvement in her energy levels. While she does gripe still on her chronic pain, it’s not everyday. Probably because she has made peace there’s no easy solution to it and it can’t miraculously go away if she just takes the right medication. She’s also adjusted well to the loss of vision in her left eye. And, at the very least, there’s no significant sign of mental deterioration in the form of dementia.

True, her memory isn’t quite the best but when you’re home most of the time, and you don’t have a 9-5 job to go to, I doubt even I would remember the days of the week or the actual date. Heck, even after transitioning to 2025, muscle memory still had me typing out 2024 instead.

But it’s also not easy being her calendar, her cook, her chauffeur and whatever else my grandmother needs from me. There have been moments when I feel like I unfairly take out my frustrations on her when it’s not really her fault. And it scares me that I might be turning into a version of my mother with all her negative traits.

And yet, I cannot wait for the day she returns and finally takes up the responsibility she unceremoniously thrust upon me…

Brooding Bad Boys – Winged Fae Males Edition

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

After sinking my teeth into Sarah J Maas’s Throne of Glass series, I delved deeper down the rabbit hole with A Court of Thorns and Roses. While the first writing style wasn’t my favourite, and I felt I could have edited the first book in Feyre journey a bit better than the one we got, I didn’t hate it. Probably because at the time I read it, the series had yet to blow up on TikTok. So, of course, when Sarah J Maas announced her first ‘adult’ fantasy series set in a whole new world, I was intrigued. If a little cautious.

Reading the blurb for Crescent City: House of Earth and Blood, I thought the story being told would follow a lot of urban fantasy tropes. After all, with the male lead named Hunt Athalar, I was certain there would be plenty of brooding.

And smut. Copious amounts of poorly written smut meant to tantalise the uninitiated.

In fact, I even flipped through, scanning each page to prove my suspicions correct. I was so sure I would find every second scene devoted to some sort of yearning look shared between the main characters if they weren’t doing the horizontal tango. Maybe a touch here or there. A frisson of tension for all involved.

Words fail me when it comes to describing the overall plot. I’ve not reread the series prior to writing up this post. More importantly, I read them quite staggered based upon their release.

What I do remember consisted of unnecessary scenes that could have been cut, drama for the sake of drama, and attempts to hoodwink the reader to keep them on the backfoot. Although, Bryce did not scheme half as much as Celaena Sardothien, AKA Aelin Galathynius. Suffice it to say, our main character is one Bryce Quinlan. She’s half human and half Fae. Her best friend, Danika Fender, died in tragic circumstances a year or so before the start of House of Earth and Blood. When more murders begin popping around the city of Lunathion, Bryce is thrust into the heart of the investigation. And as the plot slowly unfurls, she uncovers secrets behind the very nature of society on Midgar. Subsequent books in the trilogy have her teaming up with a band of unlikely allies to overthrow the parasitic overlords that rule her world in an iron grip.

If, however, you want a succinct and, more importantly, interesting recap of the books, look no further than YouTuber: cari can read. All lowercase.

She also did a recap of the A Court of Thorns and Roses series including the novella and the Nesta smutfest. Which, if I’m honest, was the impetus for me turning away from Sarah J Maas’s stories. Unfortunately, since I had already started the Crescent City series, I could not just stop halfway through.

Granted, it did take me quite a while to read through House of Sky and Breath as well as House of Flame and Shadow after their release dates.

But finish them I did.

And while I can’t say I hated the books, I have to admit, the narrative didn’t particularly stand out to me. Worse, Bryce Quinlan felt like an amalgamation of all of Sarah’s previous protagonists mushed into one. Except this time, she had red hair.

Hunt, too, exemplified a lot of the same traits as the previous male romantic leads. If I closed my eyes and simply heard a description, I probably would not have been able to tell the difference between him and Rhysand or Rowan. Let alone Chaol or Tamlin.

Thankfully, though, her side characters had a bit more going for them. Fury and Juniper felt like actual people, rather than extensions of Bryce (although their appearances were few and far between). Hypaxia and Ithan, too (even though some of their extended scenes could have been cut).

And, it’s important to note, Sarah also included some LGBTQI+ flavouring into her world. Though TOG an

A shame, though, that she still preferred to keep her main couple straight. Even though she could have totally gone the sapphic route between Bryce and Danika. But I digress.

Actually, no. I don’t. Bryce’s relationship with Hunt was always just there. As if it was written in to appease Sarah’s audience, or her own kink for winged Fae. Danika, on the other hand, was a character Bryce treasured above all others. More than that, she was secretly linked to a whole host of matters that Bryce was never away of, including the inking of the Horn to her back as a tattoo.

What I disliked the most, though, was the fact Danika’s soulmate was the male Baxian (no shade on Baxian, though. The Hound has had it rough. Definitely a step above frat boy Ruhn). It would have been more intriguing if she had no mate of her own.

Then, there was the whole Lidia/ The Hind romance with Ruhn. While I enjoyed it for what it was, the foreshadowing in the second book was very on the nose. Then, in the third novel, I felt like Lidia lost so much of her agency. Especially when it came to Ruhn.

Even when she did show some backbone, by getting mad at Ruhn for only bothering to listen when she had laid out her sob story, she still could not resist the allure of Eau de Ruhn.

In fact, now that I think on it more, I feel like Sarah’s whole idea with ‘soulmates’ a little outdated. The way they call each other mates…the animalistic tendencies of the men (which she always denotes as male instead because, I suppose, man and woman are off the table if they aren’t human) just rubs me the whole way. True, she lampshades this a little by having Bryce call out problematic behaviour and labelling Hunt and a few others ‘Alphaholes.’ But, Sarah, if you want to write Omegaverse, just write Omegaverse!

Ali Hazelwood did it! You can too!

I suppose if I can pinpoint where my ambivalence for the stories comes from, it’s these small bits and pieces of characterisation and worldbuilding. Sarah both encourages and lampoons the same behaviour. The other part, I suppose, is her characterisation of faeries. In almost all of her stories, they often don’t adhere to the norms of actual faerie lore. Rather, Sarah creates her own that her characters abide by.

While also being hot and sexy. With a variety of magic at their fingertips.

It’s also clear after reading A Court of Thorns and Roses and the Crescent City novels that she has a thing for hot men with wings. So, there’s that too.

But perhaps the problem I have with most of the books is how predictable the stories are. After reading the summary on the back and skimming through a few lines, I knew exactly what type of book I’d be indulging.

Now, I’m not much of a critical reader. I’ll read most anything that has good sentence structure and spelling.

Yet, when your stories become the template for a whole host of books in the romantasy genre, everything becomes a little too trite. The interactions too stilted. And characters become walking talking cliched tropes.

Perhaps it’s the reason why House of Flame and Shadow doesn’t receive the attention its predecessors did.

And that’s coming from a person who believes there are NO original ideas.

I might not be on TikTok, or a lot of other social media for that matter, but I’ve found a dearth of content when it comes to the urban fantasy epic penned. Maybe others can see the writing on the walls. Or it could be the author’s politics (I know that’s been a thing on many people’s minds in recent years when they look to support burgeoning authors, and the drama that unfurls).

Whatever the case may be (I personally think it’s the power creep and the fact there were too many plot threads with too little payoff), I’m sure we can all rightly agree Crescent City was a series of all time.

And maybe that’s okay.

Not everything HAS to be the next BIG thing.

Still, at least for all the romantasy lovers out there, at least there was some sexy Shadow Daddy and Winged Fae smut going on. So, yay?

Does make one wonder when my favourite stories will rise to the peak of popularity. Here’s hoping it’ll be soon!