Longtime readers of 61FPS should be aware of my love-hate relationship with Japanese RPGs; for as much as I hate the genre's crippling flaws, I find myself crawling back to them time and time again, because they've sort of become a "comfort food" for me. As much as I hate being strangled by the slimy tentacles of nostalgia, I have to admit that my continuing fascination with all things JRPG has to do with the fact that I was practically raised on the things--though, to give myself some credit, I can at least say that I've managed to avoid quite a few of this generations biggest disappointments, like Star Ocean: The Last Hope. This does not explain why I played through all of Blue Dragon, though.
Since becoming a member of the enthusiast press, I've been trying to break away from my old tendencies to try new and otherwise scary experiences. It's safe to say that I'm most comfortable with organized, linear, Japanese game design; as a former Nintendo and Playstation (once the JRPG Mecca) fanboy, this was once the only world I ever knew. And to this day, the non-linearity of open-world games is still a bit anxiety-inducing to me. So I thought, "What better way to break me out of this rut than by playing a free-roaming game where just about everything wants to murder you?"
And this is where Fallout 3 came in.
Granted, the third Fallout benefits from years of learning through game design that the older titles in the series simply didn't have; hell, I'm sure that Fallout 3 is considered a baby game to the hardest of the old-school hardcore Fallout fans. But for a newbie like me, the world of Fallout is completely terrifying; even the "tutorial" in the beginning of the game barely tells you the basics before you're thrown out into the cold, unforgiving nuclear wasteland of Washington D.C. After leaving Vault 101, I had no idea where to go, no idea what half of my stats meant, and only a basic understanding of how my map even worked--and I had to deal with all of this while being surrounded by critters and scumbags taking potshots at me from a distance.
Keep in mind that I'm used to games that (frustratingly) spend hours and hours introducing you to their mechanics before letting you have any fun with them on your own. With Fallout 3, getting my bearings with all of the in-game systems took a few hours of experimentation and trial-and-error, but in the end this made the experience far more rewarding. I'm not sure if this is what the designers had in mind, but getting acclimated to Fallout 3's outside world is like stepping into the tattered shoes of your vault-born character--you can't expect complete mastery right away.
What also surprised me about Fallout 3's game design was the real sense of consequence that influences your decisions. As a veteran JRPGer, I'm used to searching every dresser, flower pot, and treasure chest that I stumble upon, regardless of whether they belong to me or not. This policy obviously doesn't apply to Fallout 3; I instinctively searched an off-limits computer terminal in a supply store, only to find an angry security guard trying to murder me when my reading was done. I ran out of the store and soon discovered that the whole town was after my blood; I barely made it out alive after three escape attempts. The citizens eventually forgot about my transgression a few days later, but this incident makes still me think about the effects of my actions before I do just about anything in the game.
Fallout 3 didn't entirely eliminate my hunger for gaming comfort food, but I'm glad to say that it's at least broadening my horizons and changing my expectations of what an RPG can be. Who knows; by the end I may give up spiky-haired, angsty teenage heroes for good.
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Whatcha Playing: Fallout (Metaphorically Speaking)
Too Soon? No Nukes for Japanese Fallout 3
Facepalm: Crispy Gamer