(The Cartridge Lit blog.)
Near the end of the game you find out Nall is a dragon. In a flash, his hidden power is unlocked and he grows enormous, takes his true shape. He’s vibrant, shiny, the size of a school bus. You ride him through the skies.
Your airship is a kind of home, a traveling hostel for your eccentric companions. In leveling up, you always progress. It is almost impossible to stop progressing.
Ultima Weapon is an enormous dragon-like creature that flies through the sky near the end of the game. If you bump into it (Him? Her? Why does wondering make this sadder to tell?) with your airship, it will fly away and not bug you. If you really want to, you can follow it.
The most important thing to us was to use the mechanics to allow the player to compare and contrast each character’s public vs. private self. The voyeurism of the AR scenes allows us to observe how the characters act when speaking to each other in a group, versus when speaking to each other in isolation, or how they behave when entirely on their own.
Playing Christmas Nights is a family tradition, and it’s tradition that’s on my mind this week. More broadly, this time of year. Most years, I travel home to the Seattle area to spend time with friends and family during the winter holidays. This involves staying at my dad’s house for the majority of the trip, which means that at some point my dad will ask me, his adult daughter, “Do you want to play Christmas Nights?”
We think video games are literature, and so why shouldn't there be literature about video games? That's the question we're hoping to answer here. Read more.
