Look at all of the arts

So, consensus seems to be that we’re making a Water/Fire squid Pokémon to unleash upon our enemies. I asked people to submit some art for this thing to get some different ideas of what it will look like, and I have a whole bunch of ‘em for you to look at here, so let’s get down to picking one. The poll’s at the bottom of this post; I’ll leave it open for five days, though I reserve the right to make a second run-off poll if the two or three top choices are pretty close. There’s a fair bit of variance in the image quality here, and I know it’s easy just to ignore the pencil sketches, but I’d like it if you’d try to give them a chance and look at the characteristics the designers have chosen to give this Pokémon – we’re voting on what the Pokémon should look like, not on which piece of art will be its face now and forever, and there’s always time for a more polished version later. Ah, who am I kidding? People like pretty pictures. Anyway, without further ado…

In the order I received them:

#1, by Etall

#2, by Ill337erate

#3, by Adam Dreifus

#4, by Jack

#5, by Leevan Blackwood

#6, also by Leevan Blackwood

#7, by Kevin

#8, by Random Access

#9, by Squid

And here’s the poll!

One of the biggest annoyances in the Pokemon games is being forced to teach a member of your party an HM move to progress, or get extra goodies, thus giving birth to the infamous HM slave. How I’d fix this is just allow HM field abilities to be used by pokemon who can learn them, as long as you have the HM and the gym badge that allows its use, with having to actually teach them the move to be completely optional. But if given the chance how would you fix it? (if different than my method)

Hell yes.

I could go into a long and detailed rant about why I don’t like the HM system, but since you agree with me anyway, I’ll spare you.

You’re quite right that the simplest answer would be to make the various field abilities into inherent characteristics of the Pokémon requiring no special training, a la Pokémon Ranger. I have floated one other method in the past – I was trying to kill two birds with one stone and also make the Unown useful in the game, so I suggested the introduction of special tablets that could ‘seal’ sequences of Unown and then produce supernatural effects in keeping with the sequence used – so a tablet reading SWIM, for instance, would allow you to cross water. Basically, you gain these abilities by capturing a large number of different Unown, something the games have always encouraged you to do but never adequately rewarded.

I could go on, but I have an entry on this subject planned for the… well, I don’t want to say ‘near’ future because that’s tempting fate, but… yes.

would you?

Good lord, no.

For one thing, I don’t own a candyfloss machine, and there are no snakes in New Zealand anyway.

I think when they get to a really high number of Pokemon, perhaps after Pokemon X and Y, they might move to a new time period, maybe in the past or future, where many current Pokemon either don’t exist yet, or have become extinct depending on the time, then release a new Gen, kind of like starting from scratch. What do you think about the idea?

Do I think they’ll do it, or would I like it if they did?

If there’s one thing I know about Game Freak, it’s that they like to stick with what they know will work. I doubt they would abandon their setting lightly. Not to say that it’s impossible; they seem to have been very consciously trying to confound our expectations during the last generation or two (and, of course, in a spin-off game anything goes), but I think it’s unlikely.

Anyway, I’m biased, naturally; I’m a history guy, so I would very much like to see a Pokémon game set in the past. I have always felt that Pokémon is a game about discovery and exploration, and the fifth generation, particularly the second pair of games, seem at times to be going out of their way to imply that there’s really not that much left to discover. Setting a game in the past would get away from all that. I also think it could be a great deal of fun to work around all the modern conveniences we’re used to from the newer games. Fewer Pokémon Centres in the past – maybe you have to help set them up? No PC storage system – carrier Pidgey? Most Pokéballs are going to be made from Apricorns – gotta find a time and place to cultivate them and create more effective strains. Medicine? Probably going to rely a lot on herbs and berries. There’s a lot you could do with a game like that.

so someone already asked if there was a pokemon from the kanto region that you denied the right to exist and you said no or not really my question what is the worst kanto pokemon not one that doesn’t deserve to exist just one that strikes you as lame

For the benefit of other readers, this is in reference to this question:
http://pokemaniacal.tumblr.com/post/37543714121/im-probably-a-generic-question-asker-seeing-as-my

I should probably clarify what I said on that topic, since I am a little worried you have gotten the wrong idea. I don’t think the Kanto Pokémon are in any sense superior to those of later generations. I certainly don’t think that all of them are well designed. Indeed, I think several of them are in many ways quite poor. However, for a variety of reasons, I don’t think you can necessarily judge them according to the same standard as the later additions, which makes them very difficult for me to deal with.

Anyway, since you asked…

I have an exceedingly low opinion of Krabby and Kingler. So, these Pokémon are crabs? Great; what do they do? "Crab things.“ Um… anything else? "No. Why would they need to do anything else?” Sandshrew and Sandslash, likewise, have always struck me as rather bland. I suppose I would be remiss if I did not bring up Fearow, Pidgeot and their associated spawn, because although they have the advantage of being the first in the interminable lineage of generic bird Pokémon and therefore have a better claim to legitimacy than any of the rest, they’re still simply not that interesting when you compare them to the likes of Dodrio and Farfetch’d. Raticate is perhaps worth consideration as possibly the only Pokémon in existence with absolutely no supernatural powers whatsoever; he’s just a really big rat.

The other annoying thing Red and Blue did was take some of the most obscure Pokémon in the game, the species you could only get one of, or only a few with great difficulty, and decide that they would be, absolutely without question, not worth it. Farfetch’d is one (also a cool design cursed to have no useful skills at all), Lickitung another, Porygon probably the worst of all.

I could go on, but I’ve probably pissed off enough people already.

White 2 Playthrough Journal, episode 7: OHGODSPIDERS

NB: There are no pictures because Tumblr is being a jerk. Will attempt to do something about it later.

The Castelia City Gym I remember was… odd. Its residents, a group of clowns who specialise in Bug Pokémon, had modelled the place after a beehive, with hexagonal rooms divided from each other with walls of gluey honey, which challengers could walk through, but only with difficulty. I always found these honey walls tremendously bothersome, since they don’t actually present a puzzle to be solved or a maze to navigate the way most Gym features do, but still slow you down significantly as you move around the building. When Jim and I step into the Castelia Gym, we note that the honey walls are nowhere to be seen, and realise that Burgh has been busy over the last two years – and the other Gym Leaders probably have been as well. The inside of the Castelia Gym is now wreathed in fine white thread, as though some enormous spider has taken up residence – and, hell, for all we know, that’s exactly what’s happened; Burgh’s probably been making some new friends. With this in mind, we enter – slowly, carefully. The clowns are nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Burgh has eaten them. Such a… tragedy. Yes. Quite. The ground level of the Gym is empty, but for a few woven cocoons, connected to the upper levels by long, thick cables of silk. One is inaccessible, separated off by an impassable silken thicket, but the closest cocoon seems to have two openings in it. Jim and I glance at each other and unclip Jaime and Ulfric’s Pokéballs from our belts before walking gingerly up to the thing. Jim touches it cautiously; his hand comes away sticky, but the cocoon doesn’t react. Hmm. Step by step, I move around the cocoon to examine the rounded opening, and-

OH DEAR LORD IT’S EATING ME!

Through some inexplicable force of suction, the cocoon draws me in, swallowing me whole before I can jump away and leaving behind nothing but a strangled screeching noise. I feel myself being dragged upward, though the silken ‘cable’ which I now realise is a hollow tube. Convinced that I have been snared by the monstrous spider Pokémon which has certainly taken over the Castelia Gym, I start kicking as forcefully as I can and try to twist my body around in hopes of wedging myself halfway up the tube. I pop open Jaime’s Pokéball, screaming through the muffling silk for him to cut us free with Razor Shell, and wrench my ensnared hand down to my belt in hopes of finding Barristan or Tyrion. I hear Jim, faintly, through the silk as he calls for a Cut from Ulfric. Jaime, now out of his ball, is squirming for his scalchops but can’t reach them with the sticky threads hindering his movements. Luckily, I manage to get my hand down as far as my waist and tap on another Pokéball, not much caring at this point whose it is. Success! Barristan bursts out and gives a low, distressed howl as he realises our predicament. Convinced that I have the way to freedom, I scream the words “Flame Wheel!” at the top of my lungs.

You can… probably imagine how the situation deteriorated from there.

Half an hour later, a rather mournful Burgh paces back and forth in front of us on the ground floor of the Gym. The walls and floors are built from a hardy construction polymer, and are a little blackened but largely undamaged. Unfortunately the webs, which apparently allow the Bug Pokémon and their trainers to move between floors, have been burnt completely to ashes, including Burgh’s spiderweb loft at the top of the building. It will take months, he wails, for the Ariados to repair the place, and he may never replace the paintings he had stashed in some of the cocoons. Jim points out diplomatically that no one has been seriously hurt (or at least, nothing a Burn Heal won’t fix) and suggests that a battle might take his mind off things. Burgh sighs and admits he’s probably right; if nothing else a good battle might at least inspire him to get started on some new paintings.

At some point during the… incident… Jim had called Falk out to help, and a slight misunderstanding with the Gym trainers had led to the poor Magby being surrounded by half a dozen angry Whirlipede and Swadloon and bludgeoned into submission; he is therefore in no condition to fight. Dovahkiin, however, is still fit and ready, and manages to handle all three of Burgh’s powerful Bug Pokémon – a Swadloon, a Dwebble, and a Leavanny – with skilful use of Counter and a little medicinal support from Jim. Burgh hands Jim an Insect Badge, with a brief remark of congratulation, and gives his Pokéballs to a clown to have his Pokémon healed. He then turns to me, slouched against the wall with Jaime and Barristan still at my side. He attempts to give me a friendly smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. He starts to say something, but chokes on the words. He finally throws a second Insect Badge at my feet, makes a mournful rattling noise in his throat, and leaves the building.

Victory is mine!

Obviously that didn’t go exactly as planned but it’s still worth a celebratory moonlit walk in Castelia Plaza! Jim and I get our Pokémon checked out at the Pokémon Centre, then stroll down Castelia Street to the plaza. Even at this late hour, the main streets are still bustling, though the plaza itself is fairly quiet… quiet enough that Jim instantly recognises the curious-looking scientist he met in the Castelia sewers the day before and points him out for me. He notices us looking and, rather than fleeing as he did in the sewers, begins to approach us. Jim quietly warns me to refuse any candy offered to me and keep my eyes peeled for a white van with tinted windows. I adjust my belt and casually tap my fingers against Sansa’s Pokéball as our new friend gets closer. He introduces himself as Colress, and compliments Jim once again on his battling in the Castelia sewers, before asking to see our Pokémon.

No.

“Are you sure? But this is,” he strikes a dramatic pose, his notebook clasped against his chest, staring intensely into the night sky, “for science!”

…hell no.

Colress thinks for a moment, and offers us a chocolate bar in exchange for letting him see our Pokémon.

Ooh! Gimme!

Jim protests, but I happily accept the proffered candy and munch on it as Colress examines Sansa, who bleats at him and crackles a little bit, but doesn’t attack. He proclaims his delight at seeing a Pokémon so strong and confident, and explains that he studies ways for humans to “bring out the power of Pokémon,” something Jim and I appear to be doing. Colress tells us that he’s heading North, out of Castelia City, and invites us to follow him for a Pokémon battle to further his research. He then turns and leaves without another word. I want to follow see what he’s on about; if nothing else, there might be more candy. Jim admonishes me for taking chocolate from a stranger, but admits that he’s curious to know what Colress wants (he’s probably just jealous because he didn’t get any candy), so we set off for Route 4 together.

If gamefreak put you in charge of making the next game outside of the “Pokemon __ version” Gym-Badge seeking titles… what kind of game would you make?

People ask me this periodically. I always wonder what sort of answer they’re expecting. I mean, you do realise you’re talking to a guy who will spend three days writing a 2000-word essay on what Pokémon gender actually means? Asking me “how would you do the next Pokémon game?” is liable to produce a small book.

I have been meaning to do this, though. For quite some time, in fact. I keep coming across other things that I want to do first but, damnit, enough! It’s next on my list! Just as soon as I finish narrating my journey through White 2. I suppose with the oncoming release of X and Y, the topic is rather apropos, if nothing else.

What is your favorite non-starter Grass type?

My favourite Pokémon – period – is Vileplume. I admit it’s purely a matter of sentimentality; there’s nothing particularly wonderful about her design. I just like it. I suppose I’ve always considered Vileplume the archetypal Grass Pokémon – calm and gentle, but filled with some of the most horrid disabling attacks and support abilities you can think of. The choice of the Rafflesia arnoldii as a design base is quite appropriate – the flower is striking, even beautiful, but its stench is proverbial.

Stuffs

I have finally done something I should really have started a long time ago and made it possible to look through questions people have asked me on the ‘post categories’ page. I’ve broken all of them down into groups like ‘questions about specific Pokémon,’ ‘questions about the movies and anime,’ etc and will continue to slot future questions into these groups as I answer them, so if for whatever reason you want to browse what people have asked me in the past, it will maybe be a bit easier now? I’ve also made categories on that page for the ongoing playthrough journal, and for my one-off entries, which despite being (in my opinion) some of my best work haven’t been accessible from that page before.

Yay!

Regarding the current stage of our Pokémon-designing project-thing – I have received four art submissions so far, but would like to wait and see if I get any more, so I’ll hold off on posting the entries and creating a poll until… let’s say the night of the 27th (New Zealand time), so if you really want to draw a lava-squid of doom but haven’t done so already, try and do it tomorrow!

Ok, so leveling up is more or less just a mechanical way to describe a Pokemon’s effort and overall “readiness” to evolve (some restrictions and exceptions apply, obviously). Which makes IVs and EVs very easy to explain – in fact, they are the system we’re talking about. But….what’s Pokerus, then??

Well, I would like to note that IVs are permanent and unchanging, so I think they represent, rather, a Pokémon’s genetic makeup and any natural variance in aptitude. Otherwise, though, yes, that’s more or less where we seem to be at the moment.

So… Pokérus.

Well, they describe it as a virus, which seems very odd since we normally think of viruses as malicious parasites, not as symbiotes, which the Pokérus clearly is – it dramatically improves a Pokémon’s ability to learn and grow. What this makes me think of is an evolutionary process that seems to have happened (it’s a rather difficult hypothesis to prove, but a lot of biologists like the idea) billions of years ago when the first cells were getting their start. See, in most plant and animal cells, there are little organelles (cell structures) that we use for breaking down complex chemicals to produce energy; these are called mitochondria. Plant cells also have another kind called a chloroplast, which is responsible for photosynthesis (storing light energy in complex chemicals so the mitochondria can break them down later). Anyway, here’s the thing: these structures reproduce on their own, independently of the rest of the cell, using their own DNA (fun fact – although your nuclear DNA is a mixture of your parents’, your mitochondrial DNA is an exact copy of your mother’s, a fact which is extremely useful to evolutionary biologists – look up ‘mitochondrial Eve’ some time). What this seems to suggest is that they were once completely independent organisms which were somehow swallowed up by larger cells and, instead of being digested or whatever, assimilated themselves into the larger cells and started trading services – energy for shelter. I think the Pokérus is an example of the same thing in progress. Give it another fifty million years, and all Pokémon will be born with it. For now, though, it’s an independent organism, barely capable of surviving on its own, that can insert itself into a Pokémon’s cells and, in exchange for a place to live, can streamline certain aspects of the way a Pokémon’s body functions. Pokérus can produce exotic hormones that enhance a Pokémon’s awareness and ability to process information and commit it to memory, enhancing its capacity to learn from the battles it fights (hence the doubling of received Effort points). Perhaps they even enhance a Pokémon’s connection with whatever weird sources of power they drawn on for their attacks.

Hmm… which might mean… hmm.