Tag: storytelling

A Juggler’s Tale – I Got No Strings…

Posted on by in Gaming

As a kid, my only real exposure to puppets was through the joyful “sooty show.” That is one of the most niche references I have ever made on this site, but it was a puppet show targeted at young children, starring a yellow hand-puppet bear called sooty and his friends. They had a TV show and everything. Small Caitlin loved it. Marionette’s (stringed puppets) always felt a bit… uncanny valley to me but the engineering part of my brain was fascinated by them. The ability to manipulate and study individual sections of the puppet as it moved, to see the ripple effect it would have on the rest of the joints – it was remarkably educational.

Despite the interest in puppets and marionettes that has followed me since early childhood, I absolutely detest mascot costumes. Seriously, they could be hiding anything in there. Part of my anxiety against these people who are just doing their jobs is the fact that they are hidden from sight deliberately. I am a naturally paranoid person due to my anxieties, so when I cannot see someone’s eyes or face to read social cues from, I am immediately uneasy. This distaste for mascots was very visible to the Game Junkiez gang at EGX when I fled from a Fall Guy mascot who I was fairly sure was targeting me directly (nearly mugged by a bean, that would be a new experience).

This weird love of puppets, fascination with marionettes and hatred of mascots, has more often than not warded me away from games that include any of the above. You often do not find one of the trios without the others following close behind (ready to steal your soul, I SEE YOU MASCOT BOY). However, whilst at EGX in October, I followed my friend Kerry over to try a game called “A Juggler’s Tale” that they had been extremely excited to try out. We got to play the opening level, which followed the player meeting the protagonist Abby, a young juggler in a circus, forced to perform during the day and locked away at night. You learn to maneuver through the world, learning how to avoid getting your strings tangled up in obstacles. Needless to say, I was intrigued.

That’s the way to do it!

Once Abby escapes the circus, she goes on the run through the wilderness, trying to avoid the hunters that the ringmaster has sent to track her down. These bandits, led by the fearsome Tonda, are a constant threat to Abby – forcing the player to think ahead, move stealthily and be bold in order to escape their clutches. Like Abby, they are connected to the world via strings and are under the control of Jack – the puppet master, storyteller, and creator of the world that we are exploring. He narrates the events in rhyming couplets, providing the player with key information of upcoming hazards and clues to puzzles. At least to begin with.

Based in southern Germany, kaleidoscube, the developers of the game, were unable to be there in person at EGX but we got to speak to them via Discord to ask about what inspired to make such a unique game. One of the publishing team explained to us that dark fairytales (such as Brothers Grimm) and puppet shows are incredibly common in Germany, being a staple of German children’s childhood experiences since as early as the 1950’s. An example of this is the “Augsburger Puppenkiste,” a famous marionette theatre in Augsburg that has been putting on performances for decades. Given these cherished childhood memories shared by the development team, it is no surprise that the amount of love and care put into A Juggler’s Tale is visible in every frame.

I love this bear.

This is a beautiful game. Honestly, any frame of this game could be put up as a painting in a gallery and I would not bat an eye. Every environment is alive with detail and beauty, be that the gentle swaying of the crop fields as you run through them at sunset or the view of the town from the rooftops as you dance across them. The environment is a clever mixture of painted set pieces (I mean that most literally) and fairytale backdrops, maintaining a careful balance between a puppet show’s artificial stage and a storybook. Nothing is wasted, everything has a purpose. Something creeps in the background? You will meet it later on. Is that a hunter is scanning the forest with his lamp? Tonda and his bandits must be getting close.

Gorgeous. Too gorgeous in fact… makes me suspicious.

As Jack tells his story to the eager tavern of listeners, their reactions to events as they unfold function as ambient sound. They cheer when Abby escapes, grow quiet in moments of tension and shout warnings when danger looms – helping maintain the live puppet show atmosphere that the game has been building from the beginning. Jack’s rhythmic weaving of his tale pairs nicely with the music as you hop across streams and clamber over walls. Ignoring the tense moments where you sprint away from hunters, swearing profusely and praying to uncaring deities for assistance, it is a remarkably relaxing experience.

Available on Xbox, PlayStation, Nintendo switch and PC, A Juggler’s Tale is a story of freedom. It is about overcoming obstacles – both those thrown at you from others, and those that have been set upon you by the world. I highly recommend that you play it yourself, it is a short experience that you can knock out in an evening. I am going to go into detail about some story points that I connected with, so if you want to be completely spoiler free, run away! Bookmark the article and come back once you have played the game through. Still here? Good. Let us chat.

Look at the strings in the distance. That’s Tonda’s gang. That’s attention to detail.

Putting aside the chase sequences, puzzles and platforming that make up the core gameplay of A Juggler’s Tale, this game is about freedom of choice. In the first few chapters, Abby’s flight from the ringmaster is a series of scripted events, carefully crafted by Jack to tell his story. Your strings are an ever-present reminder of your powerlessness against the grand tapestry of fate that Jack has weaved for Abby. Her capture and return to the circus appear inevitable, with Jack able to pick Abby up by her strings and maneuver her if he chooses to. Yet, there are brief moments of rebellion that indicate a deviation from her fate.

What a good dog.

Shortly before you encounter the hunters, you come across an old wolf – whose strings are attached to some sort of post. Jack demands that you abandon the creature to its fate and keep moving but you can choose not to. One way of solving the puzzle of the cart blocking your path is to attach the cart to the strings and allow gravity to pull the cart out of your way – snapping the strings tethering the wolf to the world at the same time. It is a moment where Jack loses his patience with you, pulling you into the air and demanding that you obey him, or he will retract his help. It seems odd at first why would the storyteller need to bargain with those he controls? Unless… he does not have complete authority over them? If you can snap someone else’s strings, why not your own?

This train of thought comes to fruition at the end of the third act, when all hope seems lost. Abby’s locked in a cage, waiting to be taken back to the ringmaster. Jack laments her last moments of freedom, only to be stopped by Abby breaking free of her imprisonment, setting the barn she was being kept in ablaze. When her strings get caught on the doorway, it seems that it was all in vain – poor Abby is trapped as the blaze creeps towards her. Jack holds her strings in place as the flames lick at her feet, proclaiming the so called “story’s end,” only to watch in rage and horror as Abby refuses to go quietly.

One by one, she snaps the strings that tether her to the world, ripping the control of her fate from Jack’s hands and taking it into her own hands for the first time. The moment he loses control over “his” puppet, Jack becomes the antagonist, with the rest of the story focusing on Abby thwarting Jack’s desperate attempts to regain control of her autonomy. Then again, to a protagonist of a story, the storyteller is the true enemy. After all, they are the one who holds your fate in their hands. When you regain control of Abby, the lyrical nature and pre-planned lines of Jack have vanished along with her strings. Everything is new and unpredictable. Sure, the world may be of his creation but now Jack has no influence over what path Abby takes through it.

Often, we have to take fate into our own hands.

Abby’s lack of strings quickly becomes her strongest asset (that and her remarkably good throwing arm), allowing her to duck under obstacles and slip away from her pursuers with ease. They are still tied down by their strings and restricted by her old limitations, limitations with which she is intimately familiar. Eventually, Tonda is defeated by removing all of his strings, severing the control that Jack has over the world entirely, allowing Abby to free the residents of the world she calls home from their bindings and reunite with a dear friend.

There are so many lenses that you can look at this story through. I do not know whether the developers intended it but the idea of casting off the strings that tie you down is a refreshing one. To me, it feels like the story of someone choosing their own path in life, rather than the one that had been set out before them. To others, it could be a tale of acceptance, accepting who you are and carving out a new identity with your newfound confidence. To you, it could be the tale of someone escaping a toxic relationship or friendship, removing the ties that kept you together and working through the negativity they left you with. Art is subjective.

Letting go is hard. But not impossible.

This got remarkably profound, didn’t it? Guess that is what happens when I write an article by lamp light. November will be a tad chaotic for me, as I am finalizing the purchase of my new flat and moving in, as well as my job and cats. so, not much different from our normal upload schedule to be honest.

Hope you enjoyed and be sure to check out the game, as well as support the developers (kaleidoscube).

CaitlinRC

Ten Candles – We Fear The Dark For A Reason:

Posted on by in Gaming, Other TTRPG's, Real Life, tabletop

As my final term at university passes by, I often sit back and reflect on how far I’ve come. From admitting I had mental health issues, to starting medication, to starting Mind Games and preparing to go out into the world as a fully-fledged adult – it’s been a hell of a journey. A big part of that process has been the time I have spent with my friends. Since I don’t really drink and the university clubbing scene is the definition of a panic attack for me, I tend to stick to sober events. Watching films, playing video games, chatting with friends and sucking at minigolf, I’ve done it all. My favourite thing to do though, is play board games with those friends. Especially ones that stay with you.

I’ve spoken before about Dungeons and Dragons on the site and anyone who follows my Twitter will know that I’m currently running a campaign for some friends. However, the world of tabletop gaming is not just D&D, much to the shock of many. Thanks in part to the afternoons I’ve spent in board game cafes with my friends from school, and to communities like Dicebreaker – I’ve gotten to explore the genre that I love, a bit more deeply. From Dead of Winter and Betrayal at The House on The Hill, to Call of Cthulhu and Band of Blades, there’s a massive range of games out there for you and more are being developed every single day.

If you read my Betrayal article, you’ll know what these are for.

One tabletop game that has really hit close to home for me recently is the horror RPG, Ten Candles. There aren’t many games that can stun my friends into silence for more than a few seconds, yet Ten Candles manages it. Every decision that my players made were given an extensive level of thought, detail and care, before committing to it. Considering these are the same players that tend to throw fireballs first and ask questions later, it’s an astounding difference to witness. So, what is Ten Candles? Why am I committing an entire article to it? Why should you play it? Let me tell you.

Humans have always feared the dark. Though when you delve further into it, it’s more a fear of the unknown. We can cope with what we can see, what we know is there. It’s a quantifiable problem that we can take steps to combat. In the pitch black, you don’t know what’s there, what it’s doing or whether that prickling on the back of your neck is it creeping ever closer. Ten Candles is played mostly in the dark. Once you finish creating the characters you will tell the story with, you turn off any lights in the room. Your only illumination is by the ten candles sat in the centre of the table.

And we are alive.

The sky has gone dark. No sun, no satellites, no phones or GPS. Power grids have failed across the continents and the world you know has been plunged into darkness. Creatures known only as “They”, stalk the shadows, cutting down the last remnants of humanity as you struggle to survive in this post-apocalyptic world. “They” will claim your life in the end. That much is certain. Ten Candles isn’t about survival or “winning”. It’s a game about loss and hope, about finding light in the darkness and making your last moments of living worthwhile.

This is how to grab an audience’s attention.

There aren’t any overly complex rules or time-consuming preparations to make in order to enjoy Ten Candles. All you really need are candles, paper, pens, some regular dice (6-sided) and something to dispose of/burn the paper slips in. Time is marked by the extinguishing of candles. For each failed conflict (dictated by dice rolls), a candle is darkened. If you don’t fail any conflicts, a candle will go out eventually. The end comes for us all, eventually. When you have one final candle left, the Last Stand begins. This is the final scene of the game in which every character will die. It’s inevitable.

Once every character has perished, the final candle is blown out. You sit, in complete darkness and listen to a recording your players recorded as their characters at the start of the game. Their voices, speaking words of hope and sorrow, are haunting, especially with their death scene ringing in their ears. When the recording ends, you all sit there in the darkness – lost in your own thoughts and reflecting on the dark journey they will have taken over the past few hours.

Before the lights go out and the game begins, you must create your characters. Characters are made up of five characteristics – Virtues (positive trait), Vices (negative trait), Concepts (who are you), Moments and Brinks. Your Virtue, Vices and Brinks are made by the players either side of you – allowing totally unique characters to be made in every session. Your Concept and your Moment are entirely your choice. A Moment is a scenario in which your character can find hope. Be that reuniting with a lost family member, taking down one of “Them” or finding somewhere safe to stay the night, these Moments provide you with another dice in the Last Stand – increasing your chances of achieving something significant in your final moments.

As much as I didn’t discuss the Establishing Truths phase, these three lines are what stays with you.

Brinks are a bit different. A brink is what your character is like when pushed to the edge. What do they do when faced with loss or grief? Do they fly into a rage? Were they a murderer before this all began? The possibilities are endless. As the players decide the Brink for the person on their left, this means that the GM is also involved. The GM plays as “Them”, and they have seen one of the players at their breaking point. This means the players Brink is kept secret. Meanwhile the player to the right of the GM gets to decide what form “They” take in the session. Do they worship the moon? Do they shapeshift? Do they mimic voices? What powers do they have?

This story is not a happy one. It is a joint tale of hope, desperation, fear and co-operation in the darkness. Although the GM is there to lead the story, they are not in control of everything that happens. Sometimes, it is up to the players to narrate what happens. Everyone at the table works together to weave a story they deem worthy of telling. Their interactions, their moments of hope and loss, their eventual deaths – they all must have meaning and weight behind them. At the end of the world, you are what will be the difference between the light and the darkness.

We may be destined to die but it is up to you how it happens.

If you can, I’d suggest playing this yourself. You can get a PDF of the rulebook or a paper-copy from cavalrygames.com to support the creator Stephen Dewey – a very talented developer. It is an experience that I feel will stay with you for a long time and bring your friends closer together.

Till next week,

CaitlinRC.

Game Chuck – Trip A Little Ark Fantastic:

Posted on by in Gaming

When I was at EGX, my first press meeting was probably the one that has stayed with me the most. It was with a company called Game Chuck – a group of hardware and video game developers that are based in Croatia. Although it did take me a solid half an hour to find where their stand was in the massive convention centre, I ended up staying and talking to the team for a good hour. Their games fall under three categories and the passion they bring to all of them is astounding to see.

First up, is their interactive comics. Inspired by the Dilbert comics and Lucas Arts point and click adventure games, the team combine gorgeous hand drawn panels with clever and amusing storylines – such as an Ape in space that vapes to gain more intelligence. No, I didn’t make that last bit up – it’s a real game called Vape Escape that you can try for free. The conversation paths you take, the moral choices you make and the eventual ending you reach are all saved to a PDF file that you can print out as an actual comic book to relive your playthrough at any time you would like!

Look at how talented these people are!!!!

Next, their arcade style games that will be playable on their own arcade system that they are building! I got to see a test build of their upcoming fast-paced game, Speed Limit, which is a beautiful homage to the arcade era of action-packed pixel art games. From being chased down a train carriage by a never-ending swarm of heavily armed policemen, to stepping on the accelerator as you race down a faux-3D road on a motorbike, the level of detail that went into each level is astonishing to see.

Game Chuck as a company design their games to be simplistic but enjoyable. They reward the player for trying weird and whacky combinations of actions. If you attempt to combine two items that aren’t meant to be together, you get a custom response, instead of a general “that doesn’t work” placeholder line – which makes you want to try and mash everything together like a toddler discovering Lego for the first time. Dead ends are a thing of the past in their games, with character’s actively reminding you if you’ve already tried something before, which allows you to really immerse yourself in the experiences and stories that Game Chuck are trying to tell.

Look at cute little Charles ;-;

Why am I mentioning Game Chuck then, considering EGX was a couple months ago now? Well, earlier this week, they reached out to me to let me know about their new project – Trip the Art Fantastic. The first trailer is out on YouTube and you can go watch that here:

Planned for release in 2022 for PC’s and consoles, Trip the Ark Fantastic is a role-playing adventure game set in the Animal Kingdom. The kingdom is on the brink of social and industrial revolutions, with the future events to be decided by the player’s actions. You play as Charles, an adorable hedgehog scholar who is tasked with saving the monarchy. However, depending on the choices you make, you could end up helping topple the monarchy!

Instead of combat and boss battles, you must tackle the kingdom’s problems through logic, evidence and scientific analysis. From disproving other’s theories, to swaying public opinion in favour of the crown, the conclusions you draw will have ripple effects on the community. Finding the right evidence, choosing whether to publish a problematic argument and changing the course of history are all tasks that you must tackle if you wish to be successful.

Eat your heart out Disney, this is a Lion King.

The entirety of the game is hand-drawn by the talented artists, with each frame taking inspiration from the early animated classics that we all know and love. Through the eyes of Charles, they hope to explore the various types of society and their impact on the citizens of the kingdoms. Using fables and mythology as a launchpad, I believe that Trip the Ark Fantastic will start important conversations about how society is shaped by the past and what a powerful influence those in a position of power can have on the world.

The game won’t be out until 2020 but I think it’s something we should all keep an eye on. Check out Game Chuck’s existing games and upcoming projects, as they are such a talented group of people who I think will give even the AAA game companies a run for their money when it comes to producing quality games and stories.

Till next time,

CaitlinRC.

GRIS – So Beautiful It Should Be Illegal:

Posted on by in Gaming

So, a few days ago, I had hit a bit of a writer’s block. I wasn’t sure what game I wanted to talk about, so I reached out on Twitter to you guys (@OurMindGames) for any suggestions. Out of the many awesome suggestions I got from you guys, one really grabbed my attention. It was a game called GRIS, an artistic platformer that had been on my radar for a little while. People have spoken very highly of its visuals, soundtrack and powerful message – so needless to say, it seemed right up my alley. As I’m currently prepping to go back to university for my final year, I have some free time on my hands, so I decided to dedicate an afternoon to trying out GRIS. That afternoon quickly morphed into the rest of the day, until around 9 PM that evening when the credits rolled, and I sat back in my chair – stunned into silence.

The story of GRIS isn’t clearly laid out to the player. It’s told through imagery, visualization, and symbolism that will leave you pondering it’s meaning hours after you put it down. At its core, it’s a puzzle platformer. The further you progress through the game, the more abilities you unlock, which allows you to progress to new areas. It’s a fairly linear experience so you don’t worry too much about getting lost, however, the game does encourage you to explore each area to its fullest – with the key to moving on often being tucked away in a hidden cave or up a series of complex jumps. It’s a game that rewards you for taking your time and looking around, which as a completionist is a very satisfying experience.

This is your protagonist. Though you could argue, you are the real protagonist.

When the game starts, you see a young girl lying in the hand of a statue – seemingly asleep. She awakes and begins to sing, gradually rising into the air when suddenly her voice just stops. Without her voice, the statue crumbles and you are powerless to watch as she plummets to the ground, a seemingly desolate place devoid of the beautiful colours of the sky above. To start with, she can barely walk without crumpling to the ground, gradually regaining her strength and abilities as the game goes on. You collect tiny stars that form little constellations, allowing you to cross gaps and restore colour to the world around you. Each colour you restore opens another section – e.g. unlocking blue restores water to the world, enabling underwater exploration.

Honestly, you could fill an art museum with screenshots of this game, and nobody would question it, as this game is visually stunning. The artists behind this game manage to make even the simplest of colour schemes and landscapes beautiful. When you combine that with the haunting soundtrack, this game is best experienced in a room by yourself, on a big screen. I played it on my switch but honestly, it deserves a fully equipped cinema with surround sound and a ginormous screen to truly appreciate every titbit of detail and love that has gone into crafting this game. The game itself is not very long, it took me about 4 hours on and off to finish a playthrough, including a twenty-minute puzzle section that I was just too dumb to realize the simple solution to.

How is possible to be this gorgeous a game, I’m just saying!

What I really want to talk about though, is what I feel the story behind this game is. As there are only a few little cutscenes and the closest we get to any exposition from the character herself is through song, it’s mostly about how you choose to interpret it. The achievements list gives you a hint towards the game’s true meaning – specifically those related to each “Stage” or chapter of the game. I didn’t notice this until the final chapter when I popped an achievement called “Stage 5 – Acceptance”. This achievement and its counterparts all refer to stages from the Kubler-Ross model, which talks about the five stages we go through when we are grieving. Let me explain each stage and its corresponding achievement in GRIS:

Stage 1: Denial – Often our first reaction is to deny that anything is wrong as if pretending it doesn’t exist will reduce the pain later. In the first chapter of GRIS, you start out barely able to walk – collapsing to your knees frequently and struggling to stand up again. Most players will get GRIS to stand back up, but if you leave the controller and let her stand up again on her own – this stage of the model will be fulfilled, as she herself denies that anything is wrong.

Devoid of colour and life, the world seems to be crumbling around you.

Stage 2: Anger – When we are upset, often we internalize that pain and instead lash out at others. When you are hurting, sometimes you feel like that nobody understands the pain you are in and that the only way to lessen the pain you are in is to inflict it upon others. During the second chapter of GRIS, you gain the “heavy” ability which allows you to smash through unstable objects and destroy various statues/pots scattered around the world. This ability is a clear manifestation of that second stage of grief, which the achievement emphasizes as when you destroy three specific statues, you get the “anger” popup.

When the world tries to knock you down, keep pushing on through.

Stage 3: Bargaining – “Don’t you think after all this time, and everything I have ever done, that I am owed this one?” – The Doctor in the Snowmen, Season 7 of Doctor Who. This quote sums up the bargaining stage of grief for me. We feel that we are owed something, that we deserve better than our current situation presents. That maybe, just maybe, the world will take pity on us and provide that little bit of hope. We beg for it, trying to barter with chips that have no real worth anymore, even though we know deep down that it won’t work. In GRIS’s case, this is seen when you come across a statue in the forest chapter. Her first reaction to it when you try to interact is to sing to it, despite her voice still being gone. She is trying to barter with something that isn’t there anymore.

If you don’t learn to accept things, it’ll weigh you down forever.

Stage 4: Depression – I think the use of the underwater section for this stage is remarkably clever. Often, we describe depression as sinking under the waves, falling further and further from the light that we so desperately try to cling to. In my case, it often feels like a heavyweight is attached to my ankle, slowly tugging me downwards no matter how hard I resist it.  In order to get this achievement in GRIS, you must seek out the statue hidden in the darkness. This section is pitch black and finding this hidden cavern is not easy, as its surroundings are full of creeping darkness that threatens to consume you. That statue is of a woman, seemingly sinking down into the inky depths, like how you fell from the sky at the beginning of the game.

We all sink into the darkness sometimes. We just need to keep pushing back to the light.

Stage 5: Acceptance – After retrieving your voice and escaping the shrouding darkness, you come across a tomb on the remains of the land. In this tomb is a statue, lying down, still and quiet. If you sing to it, the acceptance achievement pops. Although it doesn’t seem like much at the time, to me it reminds me of the songs you sing at funerals. In those moments, you can hear the whirling mix of emotions in everyone’s voices – grief, joy, longing and hope all mingling together as one. It’s a haunting yet powerful experience to be a part of, whether they were your close family, a good friend or just an acquaintance.

To me, this game is a tale of grief and loss. Now, this is just my interpretation, but I think that our young protagonist has just lost her mother. To me, the start of the game seems to be the moment that the loss truly hits her and her whole world crumbles around it, losing all the joy, colour and structure that her mother brought to it. Often when we lose someone, we feel like a part of ourselves has been ripped from us, like a missing limb or a hole in your once full heart. In GRIS’s case, this manifests as the loss of her abilities. She struggles to walk, to move through the world on her own, to begin with. Her voice, which can restore life to the world and heal the cracks in it, has been stripped from her. Every time she opens her mouth, nothing comes out – as if she is on one side of a one-way mirror, slamming her hands against it but getting no response.

Every colour she restores to the world, every demon she faces (looking at you, giant creepy eel thing), brings her one step closer to overcoming the grief that is threatening to consume her. The darkness and demons chasing her, seem to indicate depression and anxiety – the way they appear and disappear, how they creep up on her and force her to flee. She can’t fight it, only try to outrun it. The same is in life, you can’t outright fight mental illness. It’s always there and it always comes back. You learn to coexist with it, to lessen its hold on you, to accept it as part of you. The end of the game leans towards this, with her seemingly moving on – her voice spiraling up into the sky, harmonizing with her mother’s, shattering the remaining darkness and restoring colour to the world. It’s a powerful ending to a powerful game.

Light and darkness cannot exist without one another.

This is probably the most moving game I’ve played in the last year. Having recently lost my grandfather, it spoke to me on an incredibly personal level. Even if you can’t afford it right now, watch a playthrough of it, or even listen to the game’s soundtrack. It is, hauntingly beautiful and something I think we all understand on a primal level. Grief and loss are a part of life, yet I hadn’t played a game that really summed up that experience until I played GRIS.

I hope you all have a great week, next up is Little Nightmares! If you enjoyed this piece, remember to like it, follow the site and comment below any feedback or suggestions for future articles!

Much love,

CaitlinRC

That Dragon Cancer – Hard hitting tales that need to be told:

Posted on by in Gaming

Just a warning before I start talking properly, this article is about That Dragon Cancer. For those not familiar with it, it tells the story of a family and their struggles against cancer. They share memories of their son, Joel, such as when he went into remission, to their last few days with him. It is a heart-wrenching tale of love and loss, especially to anyone who has lost a loved one to cancer. If you have lost someone and that wound is still fresh, I suggest not reading this article. I know personally how painful those reminders can be, and I do not wish to cause that pain in others.

If you haven’t experienced it, I’d play it yourself first. I cannot put into words the strength of the emotions it induces.

————–

To those of you who are still here, let’s talk. In the UK, one in two people will get cancer in their lifetime. Nearly everyone has either lost someone to cancer or knows someone who has. It has become one of these things that we just accept as inevitable, like taxes or rain. Yet, the devastating impact it can have on every aspect of your life – as either as the sufferer or an observer, isn’t something we should roll over and accept.

In the early summer of 2015, I lost my grandmother to cancer. Though I only really got to see her a couple of times a year due to the distance between Edinburgh and wherever I was living at the time, she had a profound impact on who I was as a person. To this day she remains one of the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I see her in the birds in the trees and the squirrels roaming the Cardiff parks, I hear her encouragement whenever I struggle, I see her in my mum’s eyes and in my own. It doesn’t feel like four years since I last saw her, yet the calendar doesn’t lie to me.

It’s not all sad though. My grandmother beat cancer once. Breast cancer tried to beat her, but she conquered it. I’d never have gotten the chance to get to know her otherwise. I have so many warm memories of her – encouraging me to pursue computing even though she had no idea what I was talking about, helping me finish a puzzle on the floor of the living room. When she knew she couldn’t beat cancer the second time, she made the decision to live out the rest of her life the best way she knew – with her family. I didn’t get to spend those last days with her, I wish that I could’ve, but I was in the middle of exam season, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

Race For Life is one of many events that raise money and awareness about cancer.

The last memory of someone is the one that sticks with you the most. We visited her in the hospital just before Hogmanay (it’s New Year’s for Scotland basically). Even now I can still recall every sign on the doors I passed, every passing conversation between the doctors and nurses, even the smell of disinfectant lingers in the back of my nose as I write this. Though my gran was all skin and bone at this point, the light in her eyes hadn’t faded. I don’t think anything could’ve broken that woman’s spirit; not whilst there were still birds to fade and nature to explore.

She could see how nervous I was, so started chatting away about what I’d been up to and what comics I was reading, drawing me out of my shell slowly. I remember leaving the room clutching a piece of paper, on which I had drawn a diagram of the code I was working on and she had drawn a rough sketch of an old piece of farm equipment she used to use, back when her, papa, my aunt and my mum all lived on their chicken farm. I don’t know what happened to that drawing, I think it might’ve gotten lost in a suitcase or mixed up with some paperwork. I wish I still had it, as a reminder.

They’re never truly gone. They live on, in our hearts and our memories.

That Dragon Cancer isn’t like any game I’ve ever played. You go into the game knowing what will happen, knowing that Joel isn’t going to make it and you are an observer, looking in and catching glimpses of tidal wave of emotions that the family goes through. It is a tale of love and loss, joy and hope, pain and fear. It’s not there to provide a moral or some philosophical point to ruminate on, it’s just there to tell you the story of Joel and his family, no matter how hard it may be to hear. Of course, you root for them, praying that somehow, they will triumph and find their happy ending, smiling wide at every happy giggle that comes from Joel and every peaceful moment the family get amidst the storm that rages around them.

The scene that hit me the most, one that I feel everyone should play through or at least watch, is the doctor’s office scene.  For any of us who have ever had to sit in a doctor’s room and hear the words that they wished would never be spoken, this scene speaks volumes. You start by spinning a toy that makes different farm animal noises and jokes, to make Joel laugh, a bittersweet feeling when the doctor begins to speak. You hear how the chemotherapy has failed, how this wonderful little boy has so little time left to live, and that toy becomes a vessel to hearing the tormented inner monologues of each person present – from the doctors to the suffering parents.

To all the doctors and nurses out there, who have to give bad news to people. Your strength is phenomenal and your compassion is amazing.

The music and the visuals in this game are what ties it together. They can each be harrowing and beautiful, perfectly encapsulating the emotions of the scene and drawing you into it completely. You forget for a time that you are playing a game, instead living the tale of Joel through the eyes of his family – allowing their hope, joy and grief to become your own. For those of you who have lost someone, it feels like an echo chamber, reflecting all those feelings back at you. Your memories dart in, between piano chords and scene transitions.

The game reminds you not just of the loss, but of the joy and happiness that those we have lost brought to us. This is a lesson that I feel can apply to more than just cancer, be that loss through accidents or mental health conditions or just old age. Losing someone does not diminish their impact on the world and on who we are. I wouldn’t be studying computing now without my grandmother. Birdsong wouldn’t make me smile; I’d never pause to smell the freshly bloomed flowers. I am who I am because of her and because of all the people I’ve lost, as well as those who are still such a major part of my life.

Although it is a narrative piece, involving little “gameplay” on the part of the player, there are little minigames that you can play in each scene – such as steering Joel away from the tumours. One scene has you wandering through a hospital reading the messages sent in by the game’s supporters, telling their stories of love and loss and fear and hope and grief. If you spend any time with this game, I guarantee that most of it will be spent wandering those hallways, reading every card possible and catching a glimpse of the lives of those touched by this disease. This game’s power doesn’t just come from Joel’s storyline, it comes from the fact that this story is not uncommon. So many people experience their own version of Joel’s life, be that with their siblings or grandparents or close friends.

An adorable minigame, until you realise that the timer is the time passing and the collectables are all the treatments and medications Joel had to have.

I can see myself in the shoes of Joel’s family. Sometimes, I’m the dad, trying desperately to fight back against something so much bigger than myself, falling deeper into the dark ocean when I fail. Other times, I’m the mother – praying that some higher power will realise that this disease needs stopping, that so many good people could be saved if someone just intervened. In these situations, we fight for control over something we can never control, grasping for a sense of purpose or something, anything we can do to make it better. We try to fight an enemy that we feel we can never defeat.

Joel fought and won time and time again, despite all the tumours and the pain, he kept fighting and winning. Yet, he couldn’t win forever. After a long time of fighting, the little warrior was given peace. Despite all the pain and the grief that the Green family went through and are still going through, they chose to make a game. A game that highlighted the amazing moments Joel brought to their life and the devasting impact the disease can have on a family. They chose to raise awareness, to create hope and to remind people that cancer can be beaten. Hopefully, in the future, we will find a cure. We will be able to stop any family going through the agony of losing a child to this monster, allowing a little boy like Joel to grow up happy and healthy – as all children deserve to.

To anyone going through this, you are not alone. To anyone who knows someone who is, be there for them. Sometimes when we feel as if we are drowning, we need to be thrown a rope, to pull ourselves out of that abyss before it consumes us. If you can, donate to cancer research, take part in the Race For Life (like my wonderful mother did last weekend 😊) or just be a shoulder for those who need it.

Thank you to Joel and his family, for telling your story.

– CaitlinRC