Saturday, April 25, 2015

Garfield: The Big Payday exclusive preview




Garfield: The Big Payday

Authors note: I have noticed increase in violence crime on TV news and have found this very alarming! So I wrote this as new tribute and motivator for brave American men and women on police force. 

It was another day in the happiest city in the greatest place on Earth Washington DC the capital of America. Throughout the entire air was the sweet scent of roasted freedom and caramelized liberty. 

“What a great time it is to be an American Vice President Joe Biden.” Said Obama the President with big smile as he observed the city from behind a window in a White House. 

“I concur but what if something catastrophic was to happen and rob America of your Presidential responsibilities presents?” Said Vice President Joe Biden worryingly. 

“Hahahaha!” Said Obama the President as he sat down at office desk to begin Presidential duties for the day. “What sort of man is fit to lead nation if he is spending every second of day gripped by worry? No a real man easy rides the whole long highway. This is why I am the President and you are Vice President Joe Biden.” 

“This is irresponsibilities.” Said Vice President Joe Biden with disgust at Obama the President’s easy riding nature. “But fortunately I have made man in great plan to reclaim America’s greatness.”

At Vice President Joe Biden’s fingersnapping four Secret Service men in suits entered the Oval Office with menace shining in their eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” Said Obama the President as he set down pen and paper in shock. 

“You have been allowed to destroy America for one term too many! But no longer! IT IS TIME FOR A REVOLUTION!!” Said Vice President Joe Biden with coup as he and the four Secret Service men took out clown masks from their pockets and put them on to reveal that they were really Dallas, Hoxton, Houston Chains, and Wolf of the Payday crew!  

“Noooo Vice President Joe Biden is an evil criminal. This calls for justice.” Said Obama the President as he calmly ripped out a Remington from under his desk with intents of justice and blasted off Houston’s head with buckshot. 

Obama the President then flung his Remington like a boomerang taking out Wolf, Dallas, and Chains with the power of velocity.

“Don’t mess with the President of the United States, sonny. You will turn yourself in if you know what is good for you.” Obama the President said as he caught his returning Remington and lit a Cuban cigar for smoking of intimidation as he and Hoxton faced off. 

“You know nothing! Now know the true power of evil!” Hoxton said as he took out his Walther PPK and pumped Obama the President full of tranquilizers.

“UGH.” Said Obama the President with car sickness before he vomited and fainted.

Hoxton then proceeded to detain Obama the President with handcuffs and injected Wolf, Dallas, and Chains with heroin to revive them.

“Well boys here is to job well done.” Said Dallas wickedly as he rubbed his palms together.

“Indeed it is my main man.” Said Chains with greed as he began looting the Oval Office. 

“Lets celebrate like true gentlemen!” Said Wolf as he stole some of Obama the President’s presidential whiskey and began to pour it into his pants.

“Mwa ha ha ha!” Laughed Hoxton with evilness as he took out his iPhone and made call to untraceable location. “Bain… we’ve acquired the Golden Package!” 

Elsewhere it was another sunny day elsewhere in America and Garfield was doing exercises in his own private gym as the TV program “Hot Babes Catfighting In Lasagna” played on his four-wall encompassing flatscreen HDTV. 

“Before another hard days work of eating lasagna and romancing babes it is advisable to pump some iron.” Said Garfield with sage advice to audience as he did several flips from a chin-up bar before making perfect ten-point landing on his right thumb.

Garfield then got ready to do thousand-ton weightlifts when suddenly interruptions came on his TV screen.
“TV programming that is more important than lasagna? What is this madness?” Garfield commented as the TV changed to concerned sweating newscaster in newsroom.

“Breaking news!” Said the newscaster with pantswetting panic. “Obama the President has just been kidnapped by the infamous Payday crew for ransom of equal value to American debt!”

“WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?” Said Garfield with such anger at brazen criminal disrespect for American executive branch that he snapped his weight in half like kit-kat bar without realizing. 

“Anarchy is breaking out on streets as we speak by criminal populace revolting! Is there not a bad enough dude in this country who can save the President?” Implored the newscaster with horror as the TV fizzled out to static. 

“You didn’t even have to ask.” Garfield said with duty as he put on his shades and custom Lasagna-logo black combat jacket.  

Garfield walked downstairs to begin his quest of justice and he ran into Jon Arbuckle.

“Oh no Garfield surely you must not be thinking of going out there on your own!” Said Jon Arbuckle with brotherly concern. 

“I know the danger that I am diving into Jon Arbuckle but I shall not stand idle when criminal scrum dare to tear this great nation America apart with their greed.” Said Garfield with readiness as he opened kitchen doors to the armory and strapped on enough weaponry to arm a first world nation. “I must show them just as I am King of Lasagna I am also King of the Streets.”  

“Then make sure that liberty’s flame is not extinguished by miscreants of malice Garfield!” Jon Arbuckle said to Garfield as he threw the car keys to Garfield who caught them without even looking.

“I will not let you down, Jon Arbuckle!” Garfield said with farewell salute.

Garfield then unlocked the door to his custom classic Firebird in his two hundred car garage and hit the pedal with enough force to break sound barrier as he sped off onto the transcontinental highway towards Washington DC to deliver justice like the pizza unit of the police force.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Thursday, April 9, 2015

An Excerpt from Kenway - Requiem

Posted to pad up our post count in wake of our return, this action decreed by editorial mandate. Looking back at the old stuff also makes us all nostalgic.

-x- 

In the middle of the bustling New York City street, as horses pulled carriages through the boulevards and people clustered in crowds, the hooded Assassin pushed his way past the congregation near the church. A small cluster of other Assassins formed around him, acting as bodyguards in case trouble did rear its head. He looked at one of them and pointed at the building right ahead of them. The building appeared to be two floors tall, with a balcony on the second floor and atop the rooftop were a small dome and an American flag flying.

“Is that the building?”

“Yes. One of our scouts confirmed that Hamilton has gone in the building every day for the past week around this time. In fact…”

Connor saw a carriage pull to a halt in front of Federal Hall. The man who stepped out was illuminated as gold, and as he walked he left behind a gold trail on the ground. Following him were several figures outlined in red. The Templar, hair white (perhaps a wig) and dressed in black, entered the two front doors of the building. Some of the guards followed him, while others remained stationed outside. A frontal approach would likely blow his cover, Connor decided. He would have to find some other way inside.

“I will need the six of you to cause a distraction and keep a watch. Try not to kill anyone, however. Screams of bystanders may alert those inside.”

“Very well, Mentor.” Some of the Assassins bowed to Connor as one of them, small and nimble, ran up to the Templar guards and swiftly plucked both of their wallets. Connor heard one of the Templars swear and chase after the Assassin. Some of the Assassins followed the chase, preparing to set up a trap. Connor quietly tip-toed to the other guard, remaining behind his field of vision. A small dart, laced with a nonlethal poison, had been prepared for this occasion. Before the Templar was aware what was standing behind him, Connor had jabbed the dart into the man’s neck. The Templar’s eyes rolled back as he grew tired and the world blacked out. Motioning to the remaining Assassins, Connor tossed the body behind a stack of boxes that obscured him from the eyes of any passersby, and pointed to a nearby cart that was filled with hay. The Templar would have some very itchy eyes when he woke up, Connor thought.

Was he to go in? No, going in from the front may still be a risky move. He did not have any idea of what the enemy positions inside the building were. He would have put sentries right in front of the door, and Connor supposed that a master planner like Hamilton who had much at stake would have done so as well. Connor thought that no matter how he chose to make his approach, there would be a risk factor of being detected. Hmm… there was a large tree with branches that looked sturdy next to the adjacent building to the hall. The two buildings were wide apart, but close enough that getting to the Federal Hall would simply be a matter of taking a leap from the rooftop and landing on the side balcony.  

-x-

He had almost missed his leap, but that didn’t matter now that he had found a window inside the building.
He heard a voice.

“Meet me out on the balcony.”

“Ah, I always did wish to stand where the General himself was inaugurated.” That voice was strangely familiar, and not the Templar’s, and yet Connor could not deduce where he had heard it before.

“Washington served my plans well, although not the best I could have hoped for. Too many damn meddlers, from rival factions both political and hidden. And now, with Jefferson in office…”
The voice trailed off.

Connor moved quietly to where he had heard the voices coming from. Instantly, he took cover behind a wall. Three Templars, along with Hamilton and his conspirator, were in the hall. Two were stationed at opposite ends while the other was following Hamilton and the stranger. Perking his ears, Connor heard Hamilton tell the guard that he was no longer need as the ones out front would surely notify them to an attack from outside and that he should return to making rounds around the house. He heard the steps of the guard grow louder and louder. Inching back a bit to the side, as the guard round the corner, Connor grabbed him and placed a hand around the man’s mouth to muffle him. In a matter of minutes, the guard was choked out and asleep like his peers outside.

The two guards in the hall themselves were trying to listen in on Hamilton’s conversation. Just his luck, Connor thought. He crept up behind them, and smashed them unconscious by knocking their two heads together. Dragging the two guards down the hall and behind the corners, he returned to the balcony door. He pushed the door open silently, just a few small centimeters and positioned himself.

“Things seem to be at an impasse, don’t they, Alex darling?”

“Don’t call me that. Address me like a professional. Do you know who you’re speaking to?”

“Of course I do, Mr. Hammy. You are a wedlock bastard where he is only by shifting through a never-ending pile of remarkable chance.”

“How dare you… what are you? An uneducated man of the backwoods with nothing but a pack of cards with meaningless make-believe symbols!”

There was the sound of laughter. Laughter that froze the veins, stemmed blood flow of the artery, made even the strongest man shrivel to half his size and cower. Connor, as he heard the horrid mirth, also caught the sound of the Templar Grand Master gasping, stepping backwards. Then the laughing man spoke again.

“Uneducated, you say? Make-believe symbols? My, my. For such a smart bastard you know so little. Heh heh… you think that Mr. Aidan Campbell in front of you is the only act of the play? How little you know… you Templars, and the Assassins too, think of your importance so grandly. Where merely, you are naught but merely chesspieces who think of themselves as players. Now…” The sound of a violent scuffle and whimpering. “Tell me, are things at an impasse?”

“Only to the unassuming eye. I am totally in control. Burr and his petty complaints trouble me naught.”

“Think you are in control?  Believe me, things have spiraled beyond your control. He may be just the vice president but you ought to be more scared of Burr than you let on. Have you seen the extent of the conspiracy he plans?”

“His conspiracy has been rendered useless. President Jefferson will drop him when he runs for reelection, and I have summarily used my resources to foil his attempts for a governorship. He has no power.”

“No public power. But what about within the Order itself? I know that Aaron Burr hasn’t taken his losses lightly. He has sent you challenges, hasn’t he? And there has been a culling of allegiances throughout the ranks.”

“I will simply ignore him. I will not satisfy his trivial impulse for a duel to salvage whatever deluded notion of honor he possesses. I am the leader of this rite, and shall be until the day of my passing.” 

“Perhaps… but it isn’t the wisest of decisions to overlook any potential threats, even the smallest. Do you know how your predecessor’s rite fell? All it took was for them to underestimate one fire-headed youth… I have watched many men no different from you in virtue or character or power collapse. Through sinking longships, through Italian basilicas, the story is the same each and every time.”

“Quit with that immortality fairy tale nonsense, Mr. Campbell.  But you are right. Perhaps I should settle accounts with Mr. Burr. Not to kill him, no he may still have some purposes to serve, so I shall simply frighten him to reason. But I do worry… he is a better shot that I.”

“I can perhaps lend some assistance.”

“What is this? A worthless hunk of metal?”

“This is a special shard, endowed with forerunner properties. One of the few left in existence. Does a wonder regarding things like bullets.”

“Why are you doing this? You are not one of them, but you do not wear the cross of our Order either.”

“I live for reactions. Do not expect me to have any grand scheme, motivations for what I do. I have dabbled on both sides of the conflict, in-between, and shall continue to do so until the end arrives. Now, for this favor, I do expect one in return.”

“What is it?”                         

“As you are aware, the expedition to explore the French-purchased lands is embarking soon. Something I seek to possess rests hidden in the plains. You are familiar with the Precursors and the Apple, right?”

“More than I wish to be with that absurd gibberish.”

“Make sure that the expedition becomes a few good men short. And fill the gaps with your own. Here is a sketch. Study it well in this instant, and memorize every line and shade.”

Suddenly Connor’s curiosity was stroked. Another artifact was to be uncovered? He remembered what had been narrowly averted the last time he had come across one of them. This Templar ally sought to possess it… not if the Assassins had any say in the matter. Connor decided. Another object to attach to a weight and sink deep into the ocean.

The Templar and his associate were still talking, but Connor had heard enough, perhaps more than enough of what he wanted to hear. He made his way back to the place where he had entered the building, past several unconscious guards.

The Templar and his associate would have quite the surprise when they left the balcony.

-x-

Standing on the rooftop above the building, Connor stood at the edge and peered down. As he expected, there was frantic screaming and confused barking of orders. A stream of Templar guards were pouring out from the doors below him. Some of them were ushering Alexander Hamilton into a carriage, a defensive square forming around him. It would be useless to bother pursuing him now. He would ambush Hamilton at his duel, whenever that took place. He would set some messages to the Assassin dens around New York and New Jersey. If he recalled the news, dueling had been banned in both states but was only punished in New York. He suspected that New Jersey would be where the Templar Grand Master finally fell.
But before Hamilton…

He would return to the Yorktown, where he had met that mysterious man. It was time to get a few answers from this secretive Aidan Campbell.

-x-

What answers does he get? What is the worthless hunk of metal? What happens to Alexander Hamilton? To find out, check out Kenway - Requiem by Jack Spheniscidae and Brian Ursus.

We're Back!

Hiya everybody! As you might have noticed, or not since nobody is reading this blog, it has been a while since there was any sort of update. This is because the manager of this blog, Shit Pie Says - a subsidiary of Jack Spheniscidae Enterprises, the once respectable Hilden B. Lade suffered a crippling addiction to brand-new Colombian Crack Bamboo manufactured by those devious spectacled bears down south which hindered his ability to work. He is still recovering, but I figured that it would be an ample opportunity for me to give this dead blog a second chance at life.

In case you are wondering who I am, my name is Brian Ursus. I am a community strategist at Jack Spheniscidae Enterprises, and I manage the Twitter and Steam accounts primarily. I also contribute to our writing business, where I got my lucky start in 2014 as the main writer of The Minstrels' Revenge after Hilden B. Lade's resignation. Unfortunately, I had to begin by completing his storyline with a horrid incest chapter and the translator's strike of early 2014 mangled the story I intended to write and as such the story was cancelled. I'd still like to go back one day and avenge the fallen Assassins, however. Now that I've properly learned human language, I no longer need to rely on the translators.

More recently and successfully, I've contributed to the company collaborative efforts The Last of Us: Goodbye Blue Sky and Garfield's Creed III: Last Memories, and wrote the entirety of the seven-chapter coda to the latter: Garfield Galaxy: Interstellar Quest. My biggest gig so far is as the second writer of our ongoing series Kenway - Requiem, having taken over after the conclusion of Jack Spheniscidae's original seven sequence storyline, and I will write the conclusion to the story that he began - along with  special flashback two-sequence collab with Jack in the future.

I will be posting some random stuff in the future when time permits. These include:

Comix & Stuff
1. The Hellblazer Retrospective Pt. 1 - The Overview
2. The Hellblazer Retrospective Pt. 2 - The Top Ten Hellblazer One-Shots
3. The Hellblazer Retrospective Pt. 3 - The Top Ten Hellblazer Storylines 

Company Business + Editorials + Misc
1. Jack Spheniscidae Enterprises Upcoming Slate preview
2. A Bear's Guide to Bears
3. NightRide FM
4. Fanfics That Don't Suck

Games & Shits
1. Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number Review with a mini-review of the original Hotline Miami
2. Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag Review - the spiritual sequel to Hilden B. Lade's AC3 retrospective, with reviews for AC1, AC2, and ACR possibly coming one day.
3. Sleeping Dogs Review
4. Grand Theft Auto V Review
5. Super Mario Galaxy Review

If you are still reading this, here's a good newsletter by a real writer for you to subscribe to:
http://orbitaloperations.com/

Friday, December 13, 2013

The Minstrels' Revenge - Preview

Venice, 1493

The tale, lost to the ages, began at the square near the Campanile di San Marco and the Basilica. A small crowd was gathering in front of the stage and in the pews where a young minstrel nervously stepped up. His name was Carmelo Fausti da Forli. This was his big night, his debut. Ever since childhood, it had been his dream to become a man of music. His father, and his grandfather before, had all been failed composers. Carmelo could not compose music well, but he made up for that detriment with a spectacular ability of playing the instrument. He likewise was a prodigy with an angelic voice. When he had come of age just a year prior, he had departed the dreary cloud-cast skies of home upon a boat towards beautiful Venezia.

All eyes were upon him. Carmelo, as he readied his lute, looked up towards the red tower. He wondered what it would feel like to be something perhaps like a mighty eagle soaring aloft to heights as great as that and beyond. If everything went right at this performance, perhaps he would be flying up to join that eagle. His benefactor, a trader called Duccio de Luca, was present in the crowd and had been very generous in funding Carmelo’s enterprises. He supposed that he would have to be grateful for Duccio’s donations, but there seemed to be something shifty about the man. As if de Luca had ulterior motives. No time to worry now. It was time to begin.

He moved his right hand and began to pluck at the strings on the lute. As notes flowed into tunes and harmonies, he opened his mouth and added a beatific watercourse of melodious librettos.

“There's a signora who's sure all that glitters is oro
And she's buying a scala to paradiso.
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a sc-”

“Stop this sciocchezze! I spend a year away from Italia in Spagna and this merda is what has overtaken beautiful Venezia?” Some strange man yelled out. The crowd, which had grown larger, parted to reveal a new arrival that Carmelo did not recognize. The man, with a thin beard visible, hid his head underneath a black hood. Draped around his shoulder was a blue cape, with a gold emblem and a black tip. His body was covered in shining metallic armor, his clothing alternating layers of red, black, and gray. The man was neither the tallest nor bulkiest in the crowd, but he emanated an authoritative aura as he stepped onto the stage with his black boots.

“Cursed minstrels, the great pubblico peste, allowed onto performing stages once populated by Italia’s finest 
actors and performers? I, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, shall not stand for this!” But before the man could act, to Carmelo’s relief, many in the crowd began to argue in defense of him.

“He is not ordinary street spazzatura minstrel! This one, Signore Auditore, has a certain fascino to him!” The crier cried out, who had been lured from his usual spot. “Let him play, for he is still young!”

“And why should I do that?”                                              

“Just think of this as a favor for every time me and my fellow criers have taken your bribes and said nothing when you stole our money from us afterwards!”

“Fine.” Ezio scowled and crossed his arms. He stepped back. Carmelo breathed a sign of relief, and started playing again. He decided to begin anew with a different song. He observed that even this Ezio had begun to slowly applaud as he played.

“Mamma, just killed a man,
Put a stiletto against his gola,
Moved my hand, now he's dead.
Mamma, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and t-”

He heard a shrill whistle somewhere in the crowd. All of sudden, there was the explosion of several smoke bombs all around the stage! The crowd screamed, and ran away in a frenzied panic.

“What demone’s tradimento is this?” Carmelo demanded as his ruined performance began to dawn on him.
But Carmelo had already been forgotten, as the attention shifted. Numerous guards, dressed in the same purple as his benefactor Duccio, were rushing at Ezio with their weapons drawn. Calmly, Ezio lifted his arm and something fired from beneath his sleeves. One of the guards collapsed and as the others surrounded him, he unsheathed a sword.
-----
“Ah, Duccio. I should have known that you must have had something to do with this. Still sore about that time I beat you for cheating on dear Claudia WITH SIX DIFFERENT WOMEN AT ONCE?” Ezio began to advance towards Duccio stepping over numerous writhing or dead guards, who after witnessing his ambush go awry, was attempting to slip out unnoticed.

“Err… salute Ezio! Bello verdetti!” Duccio was sweating, his face a burning shade of red. “Um… I had nothing to do with this! I was… just in town… in between trips from Roma for… for riposo e relaxtion! Yes! Nothing suspicious here, Ezio! They are wearing purple like me, eh? Coincidence, I say! Nothing but coincidenze!” Duccio continued to step back, his eyes nervously darting all over as if he were looking for a quick route to escape.

“Duccio, you have exactly five secondi to convince me so. And two have just passed.” Ezio showed Duccio the hidden blades, popping them in and out in rapid succession.

“Um… um… DIO MIO! THAT MINSTREL OVER THERE JUST INSULTED DEAR CLAUDIA AND MARIA!” Duccio frantically pointed, jumping up and down.

“Che cazzo?” Ezio snapped, whirling and glaring at Carmelo.

Duccio continued to jump up and down. “Yes! Yes! That’s him! Signore Colpevole standing right in front of you! He called humble Claudia a bastardo puttana and poor Maria unfit to sleep even with the mangiest of cani!”

Ezio snarled and dove at Carmelo. “N-n-n-no! It’s all a misunder-” Carmelo sputtered just as Ezio tackled him to the street. Duccio whistled a great chortle of relief, and as Ezio was busily punching Carmelo’s face, he hopped to a box near the stage. Many of the onlookers who had been watching Carmelo’s performances had donated a sum to the young musician. Duccio looked one last time towards Carmelo, who was being slammed against the walls of the Campanile by Ezio and then scooped all the earnings into his own pouch.

“Perfetto! I love it when a plan goes senza problemi!” Duccio laughed as he walked towards the port where his boat to Roma lay.
--------------
He could feel blood, scorching and caustic, flowing down the numerous cuts on his forehead. Some of it flowed into his cracked eyes, partially blinding Carmelo. His legs were a dead weight, devoid of all feeling. His right arm was dislocated, and spasms of extreme agony shot through his shoulder if he tried to move it. A crack shot through the Venetian air as a heavy boot stomped on his knee. Carmelo screamed. Another kick. He felt several ribs give way and flesh loosen itself. A slash of the man’s wrist blades. More skin sliced from his chest. Why! Why! demanded Carmelo in his mind. Why was this happening to him?

“Puh… puhlease… signora… why are you doing this?” Carmelo looked up. Ezio held his lute in his hands. Carmelo’s heart dropped.

“Signora…. I spent a years’ worth of earnings on that lute. Crafting it… loving it… perfecting i-” With a thwack, Ezio swung the lute into Carmelo’s head. He heard the wood creak and break as it connected with his bloodied face.

“That was for Claudia, my dear sister.”

Ezio tossed the lute aside. It had splintered into a mess of strings and wood.

“And this is for my mother, you figlio di una cagna!” Ezio kicked Carmelo one last time. His foot connected with the poor boy’s neck. Carmelo slumped. A paper, slightly stained blood and roughened, slipped from a torn pocket.

“What?” Ezio said as he opened it up and read it aloud. “Dear Ezio, you stupido stronzo, if you are reading this I thought you might want to know something. It was actually I who insulted Claudia and Maria while you were fighting the guards. And yes, I did hire them to kill you in castigo for your insults to the de Luca legacy. So all you did was let me get away richer and perhaps kill an innocent boy! Hah hah – sincerely, your amico Duccio de Luca. P.S. – give Claudia my regards, idioti incestuosi.”

Ezio tossed the letter aside. He bent down in front of the motionless Carmelo, and felt the place where he had kicked the neck. A pulse… barely noticeable but there. Ezio breathed a sign of relief, and brushed his head.

“Phew… for a second there I was worried that I had rotto il Credo!” Ezio then looked down again at the catatonic Carmelo.

“Um… I don’t really know what to say here. This is the first time anything like this has happened to me.” Ezio guiltily said in a sheepish tone. He reached into his pouch. “Here… sorry for the mess. I hope this fixes things between the two of us.” Ezio tossed a whole bunch of money along with a half-eaten apple onto Carmelo. His eyes darted around wildly, and he ran off hoping none of his fellows in the city like Rosa saw what had just happened.

Hours later, as the sun began to set. The sky of Venice turned brilliant crimson like falling fire. Gondolas began to make their way back to their moors, settle in for the coming of night sky. Gulls squawked, flying overhead. Ezio Auditore enjoyed a very nice bistecca dinner with his friends Rosa and Antonio and the complementing cups of imported French wine. Far away, in his Vatican fortress, Rodrigo Borgia sneered as he planted his thorns deep within the soil. Girolamo Savonarola in the southernmost district of Firenze smiled as he looked over the Apple and readied his entrance. There was laughter, the clanging of hammers in the blacksmiths, the haggling between an art merchant and a customer. Drunken sailors waltzed up and down the piers with two courtesans in their arms who sung the unruly seamen praises. A thief swiftly snatched fruit from a stall and was off before the dealer noticed. Another drunk, sense of orientation fragmented beyond repair, stumbled into the canals. And near the Campanile, Carmelo weakly lifted his eyes open. There was the clicking-clacking of heels coming towards him. Fireworks went off in his head, millions at once. His body felt like it was ready to fall apart at all seams. Every one of his teeth felt loose. He dare not move. Movement would only bring more pain. He had lost all control of his body, his arms and legs remaining limp on the ground. With his back slumped against the red wall. Why was there an apple and all these florin on him? The bastard must have put them after he had finished… he would get Ezio Carmelo swore… make him suffer as he did… Then thoughts turned to his lute and rage turned to grief. His livelihood was destroyed… it would take him forever to craft another lute that equaled that one! His eyes blinked as he weakly turned them towards the broken instrument. Why had this happened to him? He felt like crying for his mother for consolation, to the Father Son and Holy Ghost for fire of vengeance.  Someone was walking towards him. With a groan, he forced all of his strength into looking upwards. Exerting himself beyond his feeble limits, he felt silky black hair drape onto his wounded face. His blood-filled eyes connected with eyes of brilliant amber before the blinking grew more rapid. He felt all strength leave him. Sorry father, he thought. Sorry I could not be the one that made our family proud. Before the world around him turned dark, he heard a woman say something to him.

“Don’t worry, Carmelo. You’re amongst friends now. And we will help you get your revenge.” Laughter.

Then nothing.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Assassin's Creed III - A Melancholic Reminisce


Back in 2012, when I should have been getting insanely hyped for Sleeping Dogs or Far Cry 3, I for some unexplainable reason found myself hyped greatest for a freaking annualized title. If you have paid attention to 1/2 of the previously posted posts, you can probably tell what game it was. In case you can't, you are stupid. Yes, I know that's insulting but it's also the truth. PS - if you said Black Ops 2, you are beyond stupid.

Yes everybody, I had convinced myself that Assassin's Creed 3 would be the gaming experience that would end all 2012 gaming experiences (not saying much, because let's be honest - compared to 2011 or 2013, 2012 was a real crap year seeing how everybody was giving GOTY to Journey or The Walking Dead). Everything about the game seemed so amazing! Alexander Hutchinson and the rest of the development team all seemed geniuinely hyped about the game with the luscious boner-inducing promises they made. The whole promise, of seeing a new take of Assassin's Creed set against an American Revolution backdrop with a Native American assassin, appealed to me. Now in all honesty, we didn't see too much gameplay released before the game like we have had with this year's Black Flag, and what we got didn't look too much of a step-up from the decent but ultimately lackluster Brotherhood and Revelations. But holy hell, Ubisoft seemed to know what they were doing, especially when this trailer released and convinced me that this would be one of hell of an assasssinating past hero journey worth taking:


But as Connor said in his deleted soliloquy (more on that later) - Ubisoft did what was right, I suppose. What was right for them. And by that making a ton of money at the expense of us, the consumer. Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate Assassin's Creed III like a lot of people on the Internet do. It's ultimately a decent open-world experience, despite some extremely horrible things like overly linear mission design and one of the most anticlimatic unfulfilling endings since Halo 2.

I'm not here to talk too much about the game's design, because there's someone else on the internet that already does a pretty good job of cutting it apart. You should give him a read, and tell him I sent you so that he might give me money. I'll use the following paragraphs to briefly discuss what I liked about the game, and what I didn't. So to get things started, the worst thing by far in the game was the mission design. Ever since Assassin's Creed II, the open-ended structure of the original game and its freedom was gradually phased out with each consecutive yearly release in favor of more linear, cinematic games. The dreadfulness of this culminated in Assassin's Creed Revelations, which could be beaten in a blink if you weren't going after the side content. It's just as prominent in Assassin's Creed III - the missions all have multiple "full-sync" constraints that will restrict how you play in order to get 100% in the game, and even worse many times the missions themselves weren't designed openly enough to encourage any sort of playstyle.
You never actually get to do anything as badass like this in the missions. Even the mission where this happens.
To make things worse, the game has an agonizingly long tutorial. Just to summarize it - you spend three sequences playing as Haytham Kenway, Connor's father. That tutorial, which should have been summed up in about a sequence of missions, was stretched up to three. And once you finish that tutorial.... ITS TIME FOR MORE TUTORIALS. Yes, after beating one tutorial with Connor's dad, you have about two more sequences worth of tutorials with Connor himself. This whole experience rounds out to about ten hours. It wouldn't be so bad if the actual game with Connor as an Assassin was long enough or fun enough to justify it, but it felt even shorter - the last two sequences are only two missions long each, and some of these missions consist of walking, watching a cutscene, and more walking.

There's a reason why I gave up trying to replay or get a 100%. Just like Haytham gave up a relationship with Ziio beyond a union of whiskey, painful memories, and his right hand on stormy evenings.
But surely, as long as the assassinations themselves are still good, the design of the normal missions can be ignored? Maybe... but even so, if the meat on a cheeseburger was cooked fine and everything else rotten or burnt, would you still eat it? And no, the assassinations by far are the lowest that Assassin's Creed mission design has sunk. This is an interesting inverse, since Assassin's Creed III by far has the most developed, morally justifiable cast of Templars featured in the series so far, which was a welcome departure from the "Scooby-Doo" villainly of AC2/ACB but on the other hand there is little fun to be had in killing them. To break things down, there are three types of assassinations in the game: scripted, free, and QTE. The following gentlemen, DLC included, are our assassination targets:
  1. Edward Braddock (Seq 3)
  2. William Johnson (Seq 6)
  3. John Pitcairn (Seq 7)
  4. Thomas Hickey (Seq 8)
  5. Benjamin Church (Seq 9)
  6. Connor's super best friend (Seq 10)
  7. Haytham Kenway (Seq 11)
  8. Charles Lee (Seq 12)
  9. Nicholas Biddle (naval side missions)
  10. Benedict Arnold (The Infamy of King Washington)
  11. Israel Putnam (The Betrayal of King Washington)
  12. Evil George Washington (The Redemption of King Washington)
  13. Daniel Cross (modern day)
  14. Warren Vidic (modern day)
This DLC brings a whole new meaning to the term revenge fantasy.
Of those fourteen assassinations, about six are scripted events like a linear chase or boss fight. With only eight left two go, a further five more are resigned to a QTE or cutscene assassination. Yes people, in game that originally let you kill your targets however you choose, whether it be head-on confrontation or stealthy poison, etc. is now giving you the exciting option of pressing x to win. That leaves us with about only three kills (one DLC) where you can actually choose to confront your target how you like, and those missions are still ultimately hampered by the aforementioned 100% sync.

The game was also notoriously buggy, despite the promised three years of development time that was talked about in interviews. What happened? Was it the huge world that was built and apparently left unfinished? Was it the new engine, unrefined as the developers ran out of time? Given a lot of the problems with the game, it appears that three years were not enough. How bad were the glitches? Not Bethesda-level, but still embarrassing. When I first went to New York, the first thing Connor did was instantly glitch below the ground and die.
At least the view's nice.

I'd talk more about some of the other problems with the game - the lack of atmosphere in the cities, the last of ambient music playing in the background like earlier games, all the crap they cut out like gameplay-altering weather or random events to make freeroam less lifeless, but this blog would go on forever and I am a lazy fuck. So I might as well get twp more things off my chest that I detested - the DLC and side content. The Playstation 3 had exclusive content - the Benedict Arnold missions. Now if exposing one of the greatest American traitors in history sounds like fun - be disappointed. The missions suck, the advertised exclusive hour of gameplay is about twenty-thirty minutes (cutscenes exclusive), and it does nothing to develop Connor's growth as a character and there's no memorable moments other than a scene where Connor pwns George Washington. The actual DLC (season pass stuff) wasn't any better. The Tyranny of King Washington episodes had a great presentation that was lacking in AC3 with the drawback of a weaker plot, but still suffered from short length (the whole thing feels like it was cut into three parts just to pad out the season pass), bad mission design, everyone except for Connor and Washington inexplicably feeling like their voice actors were changed, the absence of some of Assassin's Creed III's best cast members like Haytham and Achilles, and gimmicky superpowers that ultimately added not much to the gameplay.
Being able to go predator, summon wolves to your aid, and fly is about fun for thirty minutes. Which is coincidentally a 1/3rd of the time it will take you to complete each episode. Have fun paying $30 for less than 10 hours of gameplay! 
Side content - undeveloped schlock for the most part. Assassination contracts - finding some random guard with no backstory and killing him. Letter delivering - were pointless missions in AC2 and are still pointless here. Hunting - air assassinating a beaver is fun, but its no fun or challenge to kill all the big dangerous animals like wolves and bears through boring QTEs. Naval missions - okay, this is probably the best developed part of AC3 gameplay wise but it doesn't have a whole lot to do with the Assassin part of the game and the promised free roam exploration was cut out. The only missions that I felt added to the game, despite their flawed execution, were the liberation and Homestead missions. These added to the growth of Connor's character and his eventual rebuilding of the American Brotherhood, and are some of the only times in the game where you will see Connor happy despite the stiff animation and stilted delivery in some of the cutscenes. Hell, some major storyline shit was idiotically relegated to these missions - Achilles' death and the revelation why he named Connor Connor are all here.

The forts were also fun - probably the part of AC3 with the greatest freedom presented to the players. Too bad the psychic AI made doing them stealthy frustrating.

Oh well. At least the multiplayer was fun, albeit being a glitchy, unbalanced mess with the worst cooperative teammates ever..
Yum
The plot itself has problems as well - instead of being an Assassin's Creed game with an American Revolution backdrop, it feels like an American Revolution game with an Assassin's Creed backdrop until the final sequences. The plot further suffers from an overly bloated cast of historical side characters who were poorly developed, under-utilized, and were there just because "Hey! Look, you're meeting history!" Benjamin Franklin and Benjamin Tallmadge have about five minutes of screentime and about ten lines of dialogue each, and do pretty much nothing. Israel Putnam shows up during the Battle of Bunker Hill so we can throw in that famous speech, and then disappears. John Hancock I think appears in some cutscenes and maybe says a word but who the hell remembers John Hancock. Even the historical figures who do play semi-major roles feel unused. Connor forms an interesting sort of bond with the Marquis de Lafayette, but it's mostly relegated to optional conversations and nothing comes of it. Samuel Adams, when he's introduced, seems like he's going to be Connor's Da Vinci but suddenly disappears from the story and is never brought up again. And the biggest name on the roster, George Washington, is predictably mishandled.
Did you wanna team up with the first President, rushing into the heat of battle together hand in hand? Sorry, nothing like this ever happens in-game. At most, George stays at Valley Forge to sip some tea while Connor and all the other soldiers do the dirty work. But hey, at least he's not sending them to steal oi- we mean,  find weapons of mass destruction.
We never get to see him interact much with Connor, and as thus you can't really see them as friends/close allies the way Ezio got off with Da Vinci and those no-name forgotten Italian politicians like Mackiewhatshisface or Altair with Al Mualim or Edward with Blackbeard and those other pirates who aren't Blackbeard. As such, when Washington betrays Connor by attacking his village, it lacks the emotional twist that it should have had. Washington overall is depicted in a negative light as weak, indecisive with none of his positive traits and actions brought to light. For a writer that overall did a good job portraying its bad guys from morally grey standpoint, you wonder why Corey May couldn't have done the same with Washington. Hell, the DLC where Washington is a maniacal king portrays him more positively than the main game!

Assassin's Creed Revelations and Assassin's Creed Black Flag both did a great job of making each of their historical figures feel like they mattered to the overall plot, whereas in AC3 the historical characters for the most part feel there just to be there. The best parts of the plot, where Connor is interacting with his Templar father or his bitter mentor, have almost zilch to do with the Revolution. And yes, before someone points it out, it was stupid how Connor get shoehorned into several major events that were there just to be there, like the Midnight Ride. Yes, Paul Revere is also in the game (you don't say!), does nothing, and has gone down as the Jar-Jar of the franchise.

Thomas Jefferson is also shoehorned into the DLC, and Connor teams up with him plus a bunch of redcoats and Ben Franklin for some reason. Predictably, nothing meaningful is made of the encounter aside from a "Does this make me look fat?" joke with Ben Franklin. We don't even get to kill Paul Revere in the name of righteous payback.

Furthermore, the modern day sections just suck and that's all I will say about it because it just hurts to think about what could have been, evenmoreso than the historical part.
Desmond finally does assassiny things, and still has the charisma of your road-killed mother as she sailed through the air and smashed her head on the pavement. Somewhere, Patrice Desilets is passed out in garbage dumpster amidst bottles of whiskey and rum while someone shaves his head and draws a very thick line in the middle of it with Sharpie. 
So what did I enjoy about the game, given all the nasty things that I have just said of it?

For one thing, despite my problems with the presentation, I actually enjoyed the story. Modern-day bits and all that First Civilization crap put aside. At its core, it is a good plot that suffered from piss-poor presentation and structuring because Corey May apparently forgot he was writing Assassin's Creed and not Revolutionary War the Game. But still, Corey May does great things with his dialogue, as evidenced by the death conversations Connor has with his targets.
There's an appropriate metaphor for this, but I don't know what it is
While the game has many forgettable/terrible characters (99% of them historical and the other 1% Stephane Chapheau), it still managed to feature a cast that ultimately drew me in. Haytham, our tertiary protagonist and secondary antagonist (for some reason, Charles Lee is the main one even though the father-son relationship should have been the focus on the game), demonstrates a powerful charisma and menace thanks to Adrian Hough's performance, and had there not been a tie-in book that filled in his entire life, I would not have minded Templar's Order in 2015 about his life. Achilles is a depressed black guy that fills the embittered mentor in the mentor-student role well, and since KFC hasn't been invented yet, Connor becomes the one that ultimately brings hope back to his worldview. The reason why Achilles is so depressed isn't very well explained, with one of the many pieces of cut dialogue explaining the reason why. Connor's mom and Connor's super best friend, the natives with the names I won't bother spelling because there's going to be at least one person bitching about improper accents.
Achilles prior to the life of an Assassin.
The only reason I am writing these things is because I hate all of you. Even you, the special little one, reading this right now with the oh so tender skin and beautiful eyes.

Haytham's supporting koo-koo Templar Krew, from the "in in for the tits" Thomas Hickey to the disillusioned Benjamin Church prove to be a memorable bunch and the only completely well done historical characters, despite the forgettable assassination missions which took them out. Its in AC3 where we finally see the Templars in a completely morally ambiguous light - AC1 and ACR took steps towards this but it was still painfully apparent that Altair and Ezio were by and large the heroes in that game. However, as the dying Templars in AC3 give their motivations and justifications to the naive Connor, it's hard not to consider that perhaps for once the Templars may be right especially after spending a ten hour tutorial playing as one and that Connor is doing the wrong thing by supporting the Patriots especially once we see what they do to his people when the war is won. Even Charles Lee, who is degraded into a racist, unshaven wretch who strangles little boys dies with a shred of dignity and honor that was absent from the villains of the first two games of the Ezio trilogy.
Pretty much all of Cesare's dialogue could be summed up as "GUARDS!!!" or "Lookin' good, sis." Not that I'd fault him, of course. God made older sisters for a reason, you know.
So at last we arrive to Connor, the Assassin who has divided the fanbase like marmite.  Some people hate him, calling him the worst Assassin yet (forgetting that Stephane Chapheau and Desmond were Assassins) while others feverishly formed a cult dedicated to worship of his character in the hopes that like other entirely fictional characters - Jesus Christ, Kenny McCormick, and every single Marvel/DC superhero that's been killed off ever he may return from the dead one day.

What do I think of Connor?

My favorite Assassin.

Oh yes.

Even more so than Ezio. So yes, I've probably just committed some great blasphemy somewhere.

Why do I like Connor? While I like Ezio, he's more of an inspirational figure that you can aspire to one day become (which you won't, you fucking virgin nerds) in the vein of Souproman, Battermensch, and Woodah Woomun. Connor I feel is more of a relatable character - like you fucking AC nerds he's an eternal virgin with no social skills whatsoever. Which is a wonder why everyone hates him - he hits far too close to home for comfort. As I could relate to Connor, I wished to see him grow and win, to become what pathetic nerds like ourselves could never be. Given that I look through peepholes at my sister's room and bring self-pleasure into my pathetic life about twice a week, I was able to find some resonance but not the kind I hoped for with the frustrated, monotone Connor who has everything bad happen to him with little good in return. The guy loses his mother at a young age, is forced to kill his own father despite wishing to find peace with the man, loses his fatherly figure at the point where he needs Achilles the most, has the men he puts his trust in betray him, loses his people, kills his best friend, and all he really gets is to say, "At least I beat the Templars." Considering what he just went through to get there, that is the equivalent of the trophies they give the last-place losers at competitions. There's some more stuff, but I'm too fucking lazy to bother explaining further so go google Wolfkin Initiative (aka Connor cult) because somewhere amongst the rabid hordes of fangirl someone has explained for me why I like Connor BECAUSE I WON'T. There is also a claim that Connor never smiles, that he's always angry or boring and cares only about himself. Besides, he clearly did not have to help herd those pigs or get that stupid miner guy married, but he still did! Here is some pornographic evidence:
Don't worry - when you become as smart as me, you can pick up on all these subtleties. 
This is my favorite Connor moment, and would be the best voice acting from Noah Watts in AC3, had some asshole not deleted it from the final game. 


Now, I'm off to look through the peephole on me sister's door.

IF ALL THIS STOPPED MAKING SENSE GOOD IT WAS SUPPOSED TO 

adventurewomen, if you're reading this, it's still not too late to send me some pics. :)