Post by chalkey on Nov 20, 2012 21:43:42 GMT -5
For those who don't know, Virtue's Last Reward has an interesting premise: in a choose-your-own-adventure visual novel, you solve the mystery of who locked you and eight other victims in a warehouse, forcing the nine to play a game where you both work together and compete against each other for the right to escape through a door which only opens once. At all times, the game keeps a flow chart that explains which choices led to which outcome, such that if you die or fail to escape you can go back in time and try again with the knowledge you gained — and for reasons explained later, the protagonist eventually realizes and exploits that he is jumping between timelines in hopes of a better outcome, even using information obtained in other timelines to help himself out. The final outcome, or "true ending" revealed after multiple time jumps, is one in which nobody dies, and the kidnapper is revealed. Yet, for some reason, the game encourages this for the protagonist, but not for the player; in-game text creates an overall theme of encouraging people to live with their mistakes.
A brief synopsis of the game the kidnapper forces them to play: they work together to solve puzzles to get cards, which allow them to vote on whether to ally with or betray each other. In a Prisoner's Dilemma [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prisoner's_dilemma] simulation, two allies both help each gain two points, while two betrayals gain nothing — but one person betraying an ally gives the betrayer three points and takes two from the ally (and anyone with a score below one dies). Anyone with a score of nine or higher can leave through exit, but the door only opens once — and the door kills anyone with insufficient points trying to go through. In most timelines, this leads to characters betraying trust in order to get more points and escape, and at least one or two characters die every time, making the scenario where no one dies the most optimal of the twenty four endings.
But again, not everyone agrees with that sentiment. In one ending, where two characters Luna and Quark escape, only the characters Phi and Sigma (the protagonist) are both alive at the end and still left behind when the door opened and closed. Phi recalls the fable of the tortoise and the hare, telling Sigma that no matter how hopeless things got for the tortoise, he kept going, and that was what made him a winner. In this timeline, Phi and Sigma plan on giving a funeral to their fallen comrades and then continue trying to solve the mystery of why they were there — nevermind the fact that Sigma time jumps and avoids that fate entirely.
In another timeline, one elder character Tenmyouji recalls the struggles of the other timelines after having the events explained to him by the time jumping characters. He runs the scenario back to himself and the others using an analogy about motorcyclists avoiding a future truck accident by accidentally going back in time and taking a different road. And while that's all well and good for the people in the true timeline, he argues, the alternate timeline where most of the motorcyclists die doesn't just go away — the mere fact that he is sitting there discussing this after the protagonist prevented everything from happening in other timelines served proof that he wasn't just going to disappear. But unlike the time jumpers that want to create a brighter future by avoiding the deaths of the past, Tenmyouji argues he'd rather stay in the timeline he has. He notes:
"How could it be right to erase all that? The survivors overcame their own misery and lost, and made the best they could of the hand they'd been dealt. Isn't that worth something? Isn't that the best thing that humans can aspire to? Is there really any point to a world where everything is happy? Are people who struggle for a better life just idiots? Being human is about fighting even when it seems hopeless and finding happiness even in a world that hates it. Are you saying that's worthless?"
Quark in particular, a small child, bonds very strongly with Tenmyouji over the course of the game, and Quark agrees with this notion, pointing out that he wouldn't want a world that erased the point where he met Tenmyouji.
Other endings display this constant persistence with actions, not words. Multiple endings involve Sigma setting off his bracelet — the administer of his death penalty from failing the game or breaking rules — yet Sigma will come up with desperate solutions to save himself or others in the five minutes remaining, often succeeding. Not only that, but nearly every ending involves a character named Alice dying, with Clover consistently trying to make the most of the timeline by searching for her killer.
In many ways, it almost feels like the timeline jumping exists not as a "wouldn't it be cool if we could do this" sort of fantasy, but moreso as a basis for comparison to bring ideals and truth to face each other, letting the player decide which is preferable. The game truly ends when the character reaches the most ideal timeline, but not without painting the majority of the time jumpers in a negative light by the end; other jumpers (who shall remain nameless to avoid spoilers) often deem the deaths *in the other timelines as guilt-free "necessary evils" for the greater good of their own timeline. The stagnant characters are the ones that advocate leaving well enough alone or dealing the hand they've been dealt, either because they want to make the most of the situation or because they have been personally hindered by others meddling with timelines. Some parts of the ending make the player ultimately even wonder if the time jumpers will ever truly succeed in making a "perfect" ending to their world. Can any one being, even with infinite ability to time jump, really solve every problem and answer every question?
Of course, the counter-argument could be made that the time jumpers care just as much about taking a bad situation and making a good life even still, but merely have more at their disposal than normal humans. But if there's one thing the game makes clear, it's that there's a big difference between trying to make the best of a situation and erasing it altogether. And because we as mortal, ordinary human beings do not have the ability to erase our past mistakes from existence — **the evidence of them, perhaps, but never their existence — it's only natural that the non-jumpers that advocate making lemonade from lemons are the more relatable and ultimately more favorable bunch. In the end, we all make enough mistakes to be the tortoise, only able to beat the hare by trucking along in the face of hardship and unlikely success.
A brief synopsis of the game the kidnapper forces them to play: they work together to solve puzzles to get cards, which allow them to vote on whether to ally with or betray each other. In a Prisoner's Dilemma [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prisoner's_dilemma] simulation, two allies both help each gain two points, while two betrayals gain nothing — but one person betraying an ally gives the betrayer three points and takes two from the ally (and anyone with a score below one dies). Anyone with a score of nine or higher can leave through exit, but the door only opens once — and the door kills anyone with insufficient points trying to go through. In most timelines, this leads to characters betraying trust in order to get more points and escape, and at least one or two characters die every time, making the scenario where no one dies the most optimal of the twenty four endings.
But again, not everyone agrees with that sentiment. In one ending, where two characters Luna and Quark escape, only the characters Phi and Sigma (the protagonist) are both alive at the end and still left behind when the door opened and closed. Phi recalls the fable of the tortoise and the hare, telling Sigma that no matter how hopeless things got for the tortoise, he kept going, and that was what made him a winner. In this timeline, Phi and Sigma plan on giving a funeral to their fallen comrades and then continue trying to solve the mystery of why they were there — nevermind the fact that Sigma time jumps and avoids that fate entirely.
In another timeline, one elder character Tenmyouji recalls the struggles of the other timelines after having the events explained to him by the time jumping characters. He runs the scenario back to himself and the others using an analogy about motorcyclists avoiding a future truck accident by accidentally going back in time and taking a different road. And while that's all well and good for the people in the true timeline, he argues, the alternate timeline where most of the motorcyclists die doesn't just go away — the mere fact that he is sitting there discussing this after the protagonist prevented everything from happening in other timelines served proof that he wasn't just going to disappear. But unlike the time jumpers that want to create a brighter future by avoiding the deaths of the past, Tenmyouji argues he'd rather stay in the timeline he has. He notes:
"How could it be right to erase all that? The survivors overcame their own misery and lost, and made the best they could of the hand they'd been dealt. Isn't that worth something? Isn't that the best thing that humans can aspire to? Is there really any point to a world where everything is happy? Are people who struggle for a better life just idiots? Being human is about fighting even when it seems hopeless and finding happiness even in a world that hates it. Are you saying that's worthless?"
Quark in particular, a small child, bonds very strongly with Tenmyouji over the course of the game, and Quark agrees with this notion, pointing out that he wouldn't want a world that erased the point where he met Tenmyouji.
Other endings display this constant persistence with actions, not words. Multiple endings involve Sigma setting off his bracelet — the administer of his death penalty from failing the game or breaking rules — yet Sigma will come up with desperate solutions to save himself or others in the five minutes remaining, often succeeding. Not only that, but nearly every ending involves a character named Alice dying, with Clover consistently trying to make the most of the timeline by searching for her killer.
In many ways, it almost feels like the timeline jumping exists not as a "wouldn't it be cool if we could do this" sort of fantasy, but moreso as a basis for comparison to bring ideals and truth to face each other, letting the player decide which is preferable. The game truly ends when the character reaches the most ideal timeline, but not without painting the majority of the time jumpers in a negative light by the end; other jumpers (who shall remain nameless to avoid spoilers) often deem the deaths *in the other timelines as guilt-free "necessary evils" for the greater good of their own timeline. The stagnant characters are the ones that advocate leaving well enough alone or dealing the hand they've been dealt, either because they want to make the most of the situation or because they have been personally hindered by others meddling with timelines. Some parts of the ending make the player ultimately even wonder if the time jumpers will ever truly succeed in making a "perfect" ending to their world. Can any one being, even with infinite ability to time jump, really solve every problem and answer every question?
Of course, the counter-argument could be made that the time jumpers care just as much about taking a bad situation and making a good life even still, but merely have more at their disposal than normal humans. But if there's one thing the game makes clear, it's that there's a big difference between trying to make the best of a situation and erasing it altogether. And because we as mortal, ordinary human beings do not have the ability to erase our past mistakes from existence — **the evidence of them, perhaps, but never their existence — it's only natural that the non-jumpers that advocate making lemonade from lemons are the more relatable and ultimately more favorable bunch. In the end, we all make enough mistakes to be the tortoise, only able to beat the hare by trucking along in the face of hardship and unlikely success.
