You know I realized something when I had a discussion with a friend of mine. Pokemon is technically one of the few legit “safe” franchises, as in that it continuously makes a lot of money whenever a game comes out. The fact pokemon stuck to the same general although they did make a lot of specific changes is even more amazing. What do you think of pokemon popularity then and now? Although the craze disappeared long ago, how would you guage its popularity then and now?

I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to get around to answering this one; it’s been sitting here for goodness knows how long and I keep thinking I’ll come up with a good answer if I sleep on it, but I never do.  Honestly, I don’t really have my finger on the pulse of the Pokémon community, so to speak, so I don’t know that I’m qualified to judge how its popularity has waxed and waned over the years, or talk about the reasons for it.  I suppose I would guess that Pokémon ‘works’ as a franchise for two main reasons.  The first is that its game mechanics are easy to learn (good for the little kids) but difficult to master (you can keep getting better and better at it as you grow up).  The second is the sheer variety and whimsicality of all the different creatures (an impressive selection even in the first generation, let alone now), which manages to capture, I think, just a little of the bewildering complexity of nature.  I don’t think it’d be bold to say that there really is a Pokémon for everyone now, and a fan for every Pokémon (even if I do like to spend an inordinate amount of time bashing some of them).  I suppose it makes sense, when you look at it that way, for Game Freak to focus so much of their efforts on continuing to expand the Pokédex.

Hmm.  I will think on this.

Let’s pick some stats

Okay, two things.  First, we now have a prettier version of the design for our Water/Fire squid Pokémon, courtesy again of Adam:

Anyone who wants to submit supplemental art of this thing – different poses, action shots, scenes, whatever – is welcome to send it to pokemaniac.chris@gmail.com for me to post later (remember to include the name you want me to use to credit you).

Second thing!  We now have a selection of four stat spreads to vote on!  Make sure you examine each one carefully – and bear in mind that you don’t have to pick the one you think is strongest on paper (of course, you can if you want to); if you’re concerned that one interpretation of this squid-thing looks overpowered, vote for a different one.

I should also explain one… slight problem I had with these.  It never occurred to me that, of course, everyone would format their stat spreads differently, and that not all of the submissions would be in a form I could post easily.  I had to reformat #2 and #4 quite extensively in order to get them into this post without shrinking the text to a totally illegible size.  #4 also came with several paragraphs of explanatory notes which I haven’t included here; they made it too large to deal with and none of the other submissions went into so much detail.  I can stick the extra information in the comments section to this post if people want to see it.  Anyway… let’s just get on with it and hope everyone can read these properly.

Submission #1, by Wearat

Submission #2, by James

Submission #3, by Thatswhatbradsaid

Submission #4, by Chad

And, of course… the poll.  I’ll leave this one open for five days; that should be plenty of time, right?

Would you consider doing a Top 5 or Top 10 Pokemon you find boring in terms of what they do, in an effort to give them something more interesting? I ask because I love Fearow… but he’s just your run of the mill birds of prey, and I can’t really think of anything he already has that could be pushed somewhere interesting.

Hmm.  I do rather like that idea, but for the fact that it would be very difficult to order them; blandness is, by its very nature, rather difficult to quantify.  I sort of have two or three other projects lined up for after the playthrough journal that I’ve already been putting off for far too long, though, so this might have to be a ‘distant future’ one.

In a reversal of a previously asked question, who would you say is your least favourite Pokemon of each type? Also, this discounts Probopass, because we already know he’s your least, least favourite, and considering what you did to poor Garbodor…

I’m almost tempted to have a ‘rematch’ with Garbodor, just to explain more eloquently why I still don’t like him.  Almost.  Anyway.  Hmm.  There will, naturally, be some overlap here with my Top 10 Worst Pokémon Ever list, but not too much, I hope.

Grass – This is still Sunflora.  She’s just so unforgivably bland – I mean, really, a plant creature that likes sunlight?  How long d’you think it took them to come up with that one?

Fire – This is actually really hard; there are quite a lot of Fire-types with really weird, interesting designs, like Magcargo and Heatmor… for lack of a better answer, I’ll go with Simisear for this one.

Ground – Um… dunno.  There aren’t a lot of Ground Pokémon I strongly dislike.  I guess probably Sandslash, for reasons of generic-desert-creature-ness.

Poison – I was going to go with Weezing, but then I remembered that Amoonguss is a Poison-type, and my reasons for disliking Weezing are kinda petty anyway, so let’s pick Amoonguss.

Electric – Hands down, this is Manectric, whose flavour is pretty much “whoo, look at me, I have electrical powers.”  Well done, Manectric.

Water – Probably Kingler, for reasons recently discussed.

Rock – And I can’t say Probopass?  Fine, um… probably Gigalith, for being Golem 2.0.

Flying – …I have to pick just one?  All right, all right, uh… probably Unfezant, mostly because he’s just the freshest in my memory.

Ice – Beartic, again for reasons of blandness.  He’s one of those Pokémon where you could probably just stick the equivalent real-world animal into the game in his place and no one would even notice.

Normal – Again, just one?  Erm… Let’s see… I’m allowed to pick one that just plain bugs me, right?  Lickilicky.

Bug – Don’t even ask.

Ghost – This is a tough one… there are so few Ghost Pokémon, and I just think the type itself is inherently interesting, so it’s hard to pick one… probably Banette, but don’t read too much into that.

Fighting – Conkeldurr, for being Machamp 2.0.

Dragon – This is another tough one because there aren’t really many Dragon-types that I dislike, but I can get out of it by saying Rayquaza, for whom I have irrational hatred.

Psychic – Can I say Chingling?  Not for any reason specific to Chingling, necessarily, but because it was obvious to everyone that Chimecho needed an evolution, and Game Freak decided to mock him by giving him a baby form instead.

Dark – Mightyena, because “this Pokémon is good at team work and will only obey skilled trainers” is pretty much the whole story with her.  (And because I know someone will bring it up, yes, I’ve read this article, no, I don’t care)

Steel – Hmm.  I sort of have a vague mistrust of Steel as a whole because I think it screws over the game balance so badly, but there aren’t many specific Steel-types I have serious problems with.  Um. Genesect kinda bothers me, for a variety of reasons, one of which is the whole ‘mecha’ thing which I still feel a little guilty about because I know it’s very subjective, but what the hell, this is about my least-favourite Pokémon; I can be as subjective as I want.

Y’know, there are rather a lot of Unova Pokémon in there.  I suspect this is, more than anything else, because I invested so much energy into hating them.  Probably warped my mind a little bit.  Hmm.  Oh well.

White 2 Playthrough Journal, episode 12: Isms and Schisms

Driftveil City sprawls out before us as we reach the other end of the great drawbridge.  Unlike Castelia City and Nimbasa City, this place has changed a great deal in the last two years – in fact, it’s barely recognisable.  Great swathes of residential space have been converted to commercial use, filled with innumerable hotels that, in true Driftveil style, do not reach for the skies but plunge deep into the rock.  The whole city is a tourist town now, and a very profitable one by the looks of it.  Probably the work of Clay, the ‘Miner King,’ Driftveil’s shrewd Gym Leader and, I quietly suspect, mob boss.  The old industrial zone, the Cold Storage, is gone too, replaced by… something, looks exciting, lots of tourists, but we don’t have time to look at it now; something is happening.  There’s a Team Plasma member at the entrance to Driftveil City… along with another man wearing one of the old grey hooded Team Plasma uniforms from two years ago.  The two men are having an argument about something – the one in the old uniform is trying to convince the other man to leave Team Plasma, while his friend seems to be complaining that he’s not cool anymore and that he used to love stealing Pokémon, but they never talk now and he’s gotten so distant, always going on about whether things are ‘right’ or ‘ethical,’ or wondering what Lord N would think, and damnit, N doesn’t care about you; what about us, doesn’t that even matter to you anymore?

…he seemed to say.

Normally we would figure this is none of our business, but they’re blocking the main bridge into downtown Driftveil City with their little drama, and Jim is on the verge of approaching to ask what’s going on.  He doesn’t get the chance because Hugh comes screaming out of nowhere, tackles the fellow in the black uniform, and starts demanding answers about his sister’s Purrloin.  Jim quietly releases Ulfric and gestures to him to get ready to restrain Hugh with a Vine Whip.  The Team Plasma grunt says he’s supposed to avoid trouble, waves to his friend (no doubt stifling a flood of tears) and runs, with Hugh in hot pursuit.  Jim and I look at each other and I shrug helplessly, pointing after them.  Jim and Ulfric give chase, leaving me with the man in the old grey uniform.  I learn, through some brief questioning, that Team Plasma is not the unified organisation it once was.  There has been a schism between the followers of N, who want to help Pokémon, and the followers of Ghetsis, who want to take over the world.  I can see how those two policies might not mesh perfectly.  I am invited to meet the splinter group at their base in Driftveil City and hear about their beliefs, an offer I hesitantly accept.  They’re probably not like those door-to-door evangelicals who wake you up early on weekends but you never e know.  I follow the ex-Plasma to his group’s building on a hill overlooking the city, where he introduces me to their leader: Rood.  In Black and White, Rood was one of the Seven Sages, the group of wise men assembled by Ghetsis to help him take over the world – except that most of them didn’t know that this is what they were doing.  After a quick Pokémon battle to test my worth, Rood decides that I am trustworthy and allows me into his sanctum to tell me more.  He explains apologetically that his group are often targets of hatred and retribution for their former actions as part of Team Plasma, and they need to be careful about who they talk to.  As he speaks, I hear another voice from outside, shouting something about “Team Plasma lowlifes!”

Why, speak of the devil…

Another ex-Plasma member leads in a very curious train of guests.  In the lead is Hugh, who is screaming blue murder as he struggles with the thick, tough vines wrapped around his body, trying to grab for his Pokéballs and demanding the return of Purrloin.  Behind him is Ulfric, Jim’s Servine, who is supplying the vines.  Ulfric is clearly annoyed, but is having little difficulty keeping Hugh restrained, being much stronger than a human adolescent.  Bringing up the rear, Jim is walking several paces behind Ulfric, one hand covering his face, trying to pretend that he doesn’t know Hugh.  The ex-Plasma quietly tells Rood that he found the three of them in the middle of Driftveil City, where Hugh tried to attack him, and Jim had requested help dealing with the lunatic.  Rood asks me whether I know them.  My mortified hesitation is all the answer he needs.  Rood calmly walks up to Hugh, waits for him to get tired of shouting, and gestures to Ulfric to release him.  Ulfric looks uncertainly at Jim, who shrugs.  Once Hugh is free, Rood asks him what he’s so angry about.  Hugh breathlessly repeats his story about his sister’s stolen Purrloin.  Rood shakes his head sadly, apologising on behalf of his whole group for their part in Team Plasma’s operations, but regretfully explains that there are no Purrloin in their base.  The Pokémon in question is probably still in the possession of one of Ghetsis’s loyalists.  Hugh very nearly explodes again, raising his voice as he demands to know what good an apology does him.  Ulfric tenses and prepares for another Vine Whip.  Hugh settles down, though, turning away from Rood and telling us that he’ll be in the Driftveil Gym before leaving under a dark cloud.

These guys are interesting.

My biggest complaint – perhaps my only major complaint – about the plot of Black and White was that it underutilised the ambiguity inherent in the main conflict with Team Plasma.  What they are fighting for (or, rather, what Ghetsis claims to be fighting for) is not, on the face of it, a bad thing.  Many of the people who attend Ghetsis’s rallies, even including a Gym Leader, Burgh, admit that he has a point.  The actual Team Plasma members themselves, though, are not nearly so admirable when you meet them and speak to them.  They are, almost without exception, a bunch of zealots with little sympathy for the unfortunate trainers they seek to separate from their Pokémon.  Many of them, in fact, seem to enjoy it, and are working with Team Plasma more because they like having an excuse to commit crimes than because they actually believe in what N is trying to do.  This, I felt, blunts the effectiveness of the ambiguity which makes the plot interesting.  These guys – the splinter group led by Rood – are exactly what was missing from the first games, the members of Team Plasma who are genuinely good people, manipulated by Ghetsis into doing terrible things in the name of Pokémon liberation.  They’re now caring for the Pokémon they once stole in an attempt to atone for their crimes, and honestly their story is what really grabs me about the new games so far.  I want to know what happens to them!  Heck, I want to help them, because even if they did dreadful things they were at least doing them for noble reasons!  Ghetsis fooled a lot of people – even his six fellow Sages, who were supposedly chosen for their intelligence and their… well, sagacity.  Now his ex-minions have no idea what to do.  Theoretically they still follow N, the ‘child of the Pokémon,’ and try to emulate his teachings; in fact they seem to view him almost as a sort of messianic figure – and why not?  He was wise, and kind, and for goodness’ sake the guy could talk to Pokémon!  He’s buggered off to heaven knows where with Reshiram, though.  We meet his handmaidens, Anthea and Concordia, in Rood’s base.  They give us a little more of N’s backstory – all three of them were orphans taken in by Ghetsis, who groomed N to be the King of Team Plasma and the girls to care for him (because, let’s face it, he’s nice but the guy’s a little short on general life skills).  Despite their relationship with N, though, they can’t provide any direction.  They’re not leaders.  They just kinda hang out in the basement and help take care of the Pokémon.  Basically, this group has been ditched by its one unifying figure and left with no purpose in life but to fix its own horrendous mistakes, while enduring the shouts and attacks of lunatics like Hugh, and I cannot help but feel for them.

As we leave, Rood apologises once again that he can’t offer us any help – in fact, he has a favour to ask.  He needs to find a trainer for one of the Pokémon in their care – one of N’s childhood friends, a Zorua.  I glance at Jim with a look of “well?”  He agrees to take it and thanks Rood, deciding immediately to add Zorua to his team (with no nickname, sadly, since N counts as its ‘original trainer’).  With a new Pokémon in tow, we depart to prepare for our next Gym battle – against Driftveil’s conniving master, the mining tycoon Clay.

Hey there. I’ve been reading your blog, and noticed your rant on the HM system. Something that always bugged me is that HMs seem to be extremely basic techniques for Pokemon. That’s not the problem, though; what bothers me is that you have to teach your Pokemon how to do it. For example, why on earth do you need to teach a Gallade how to cut? Or your Drifblim to fly? Or your Vaporeon to swim and dive? Waterfall’s at least excusable, but still. Just wanted your input on the subject.

When did I do a rant on the HM system?

I mean, I’m sure I must have; someone’s probably asked me about it before, only… I don’t remember what I said…

…oh dear…

Er… anyway.  I’ve seen a lot of people handle this by saying that the knowledge conferred by an HM is not just about how to use the skill in question, but how to use it in a way that is useful to humans.  Teaching a Pokémon Surf, for instance, does not equate to teaching it how to swim – most Water-types, obviously, already know how to do that.  It’s teaching a Pokémon how to swim with a human-sized passenger (not necessarily a trivial thing).  I’ve actually seen it suggested that the technique Dive creates and maintains a bubble of air to allow a trainer to breathe while accompanying a Pokémon on an underwater excursion.  Similarly, flying unencumbered is an entirely different proposition to flying with a 12-year-old kid hanging off you, hacking away at a rigid, immobile tree requires a rather different kind of cutting action to slicing through an opponent’s flesh, and shifting a massive boulder may require not just raw strength but a precise application of force to a single point.

It’s not a perfect rationalisation, but I think it works.

I am unsure if this has been asked previously, but do you see main character customization coming in the future? I really think it would add a more personal touch to the games…

Hrm.

Well, they do already allow a degree of customisation by allowing you to choose your avatar for multiplayer functions from a list of trainer types, but further than that…?  I don’t think it’s likely.  Game Freak seem to take the whole ‘silent protagonist’ thing very seriously; I think they regard it as a point of philosophy that players be encouraged to imagine as much as possible about their own characters, rather than actually see it on the screen.  Besides that, the focus is always on the Pokémon anyway.  Not that it’s impossible, or that it would be a bad idea necessarily, but I don’t think they’re likely to do it.

White 2 Playthrough Journal, episode 11: He who fights with monsters

Bolt Badges in hand, Jim and I decide to look around Nimbasa City and its surroundings a bit more.  We head east, out of the city, and explore the road to the Marvellous Bridge.  We try the bridge, but find that we cannot reach it from ground level without taking an elevator, which is broken.  As in so many other buildings in the Pokémon world, the elevator is the only way up.  I have never understood their reliance on elevators.  A woman in Hearthome City once told me that her house had no stairs because elevators were much easier for small Pokémon to use than human-sized stairs, which I suppose could apply to a lot of buildings, but isn’t that a massive fire hazard?  I bring this up with the guards at the Marvellous Bridge, but they just stare at me blankly until Jim grabs me by the collar and drags me off.  Since the bridge is closed, we go instead to the wilderness area northeast of Nimbasa City – the Lostlorn Forest.

Lostlorn gives me the willies.  I complain, as Jim leads the way inside, that we shouldn’t be there, and that some forest spirit could jump out at any moment and turn us all into star-nosed moles.  We find no forest spirits – only Roselia, Combee, and Pinsir.  I briefly consider catching a Roselia, but decide that since I already have a Poison-type I’ll wait and go for another Grass Pokémon later.  We hang around to train our Pokémon a little instead, and are rewarded when Sansa and Elisif evolve into a pair of Ampharos, Tyrion reaches the pinnacle of grumpiness as a mighty Scolipede, and Falk’s fire erupts into life as he evolves into Magmar.  We wander deeper into the forest, and meet a backpacker who explains to us that a woman once lived here in a broken-down old trailer, bluntly refusing to speak to anyone and generally wallowing in her own crotchety misanthropy.  Apparently she turned out to be a disguised Zoroark who had used her powers of illusion to turn the forest into an insane maze, but she’s gone now, and people don’t get lost here anymore.  Well, that’s a relief, I say.  The backpacker farewells us, walks a short distance away, then turns into a Zoroark and vanishes into the trees.

Jim.  Leaving.  Now.

Jim insists on checking the area more thoroughly to see whether there are any Zorua still living in Lostlorn, so I abandon him and wait at the entrance, refusing to take responsibility for his fate.  Eventually, he reluctantly moves on and we decide to hit the stadia back in Nimbasa City for some training.  When we get there, though, we find Hugh waiting for us… along with some Team Plasma goons.  Hugh is doing his usual “destroy all Team Plasma” speech and warns them that they’re “about to feel his rage.”  Ordinarily, of course, Jim and I would ignore this nonsense and get on with what we were doing earlier, but we’re not sure whether Hugh has ever heard of the Geneva Convention (or even whether it exists in this word) and we decide that the Team Plasma grunts need to be chased away for their own safety.  With an awkward apology, we spring into action and, as gently as possible, disable their Pokémon with Sansa and Elisif’s Thunder Wave attacks, keeping all the trainers occupied so there’s no-one for Hugh to battle.  Hugh quietly simmers in the background until we’ve scared them all off, then demands to know who he can unleash his rage on now.  We tell him very sternly that he is not to unleash anything, rage-related or otherwise, without giving one of us notice and seeking permission, and that he is going to bottle his rage up inside until it sends him into a death spiral of depression and anxiety like normal people do.  Hugh starts to object, and then, with a sigh, finally explains the deep, dark secret of his troubled past that is the cause of all his explosive rage.

A couple of years ago Team Plasma stole his little sister’s Purrloin.

We look at him blankly.

“…and…?”

Look, don’t get us wrong, it was a dick move on their part, but Team Plasma stole, like, a zillion Pokémon and most of their owners’ older brothers didn’t become gruff, obsessive sociopaths filled with barely-suppressed rage that explodes onto innocent bystanders at a moment’s notice.  We sit Hugh down, repeat the “anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering” sermon, and ask him to tell us whether it’s really all worth it.  Will fulfilling his goal and getting Purrloin back truly make him a less violently angry person?  He raises an eyebrow and answers in the affirmative.  Jim points out that at least Hugh’s on our side.  At the moment.  I tell him he’s not helping, and explain to Hugh that many of the Team Plasma crew from two years ago had been manipulated by Ghetsis and truly believed they were doing the right thing, even if their zealotry got out of hand at times.  Jim mentions, thinking out loud, that the new Team Plasma seem much less morally ambiguous and are probably genuine bastards.  I tell him he’s still not helping.  We argue about it, and eventually come to an agreement that Hugh is still potentially a danger to himself and others, but at least he’s theoretically pointed at people we don’t like, and with fairly good reason.  We just need to keep an eye on him.

This is problematic since he’s wandered off during our discussion.

We hurry out of Nimbasa City to the west, looking for him, and- oh, damnit, it’s Bianca; quick, hide before she- too late.  Bianca is here to introduce us to Hidden Grottoes, one of the new features of Black and White 2.  She drags us over to a place in the tree line where some bushes are visible between the trees – the sort of thing that’s obvious once you know what to look for, but you might never find on your own.  Bianca explains that this is the entrance to a Hidden Grotto, an area where rare Pokémon sometimes hide.  She shoves us into the hidden path between the trees, and we fight our way through the tangle of leaves and branches, to find… a Minccino.  Seriously, Bianca?  I know you think they’re cute, but was this really so important?  Ah, what the hell.  I battle the thing with Tyrion, capture it, and move on, giving Bianca a reproachful glare which, true to form, she doesn’t notice.  Only much later, after stuffing it in a PC and leaving it there for days, do I realise that this Minccino has its Dream World ability, Skill Link.  Hmm.  Okay, maybe Bianca and her Hidden Grottoes aren’t a waste of time after all, but don’t tell her I said that.

Jim and I still can’t find Hugh, so we make for the Driftveil Drawbridge, which is being blocked by a crowd of people watching none other than Charles the Heartbreaker.  Charles was in Black and White, but you might not remember him because he is silly.  He is an expert on rotation battle, the mind-warping new battle format introduced in the fifth generation, as well as its less trippy cousin, triple battle.  I have never really been sold on either of these.  Double battles were already kind of a niche thing – I mean, I know people have double battles, and there are doubles tournaments and everything, but really?  We all know they’re never going to rival singles as a battle format – and now the game is throwing triples at us, so we can have an even more niche format, and compounds it by throwing in another ridiculous niche format at the same time where predicting your opponent’s choices becomes so insane that your brain melts after three turns against the AI.  Honestly, I think even Smogon gives up and says “don’t look at us” when faced with rotation battles, and they know everything!  Fuelled by pure righteous irritation, I marshal my forces and stomp Charles into the dirt so we can use the Driftveil Drawbridge.  We encounter a few Ducklett as we cross, and Jim, realising that he still doesn’t have any flying or swimming Pokémon on his team yet, catches one and names her Lydia.  Other than that, the Driftveil Drawbridge presents few surprises, and we arrive safely in Driftveil City – time to find Hugh and keep him from getting into trouble…