Happy Wednesday folks. Hey, have you heard of those R.E.M. kids? I think they're going to do alright.

As every destitute soul within the radius of my sphere of communication has now heard, repeatedly, I recently picked up Flotilla off the XBL Indie section. Well, first I picked up some of Microsoft's arcane currency, which, today, I think we'll call potato dineros. I'll spare you the woeful tale of acquisition, but trust that it was full of daring, bravado and me accidentally walking directly, and forcefully, into a Future Shop employee. Customer serviced that fool. Uh. Anyway. Credit where credit is due, I'm reasonably certain I got to this game after listening to a HAWPcast where them fine folks chatter about BLENDO Games. But guys. Guys. Hey guys. We gotta talk about this.

Now, this is the sorta thing owing a blog proper, but being that I've more or less withdrawn from that arena, we'll strew some word-thoughts around here. Flotilla is a game about being a captain. In spaaaace. And gosh, it's joystick-fueled love. Starting off with a meager two ships, the eponymous fleet, you hop around a procedurally generated galaxy visiting different planets. At each planet, you encounter a snippet of cosmic bravado - a lot of it resulting in battle, but as often as not, simply pieces of story, maybe a binary choice. And it's real bare stuff - there's a sentence or two, but it's one of the coolest aspects of the game. These by-and-large disjointed bite-sized chunks of narrative form the backbone for you to flesh out your captain's tale.

I mean, these table scraps of tale are almost unnoticeable, but I feel as though they act as a framework around which you can build a very personal story. And the choices are, well, what choices should be. There's no arbitrary right and wrong, there's simply consequences; things that might happen as the result of your decisions. After each planet, you're faced with a summary of the story stack so far, and it's, if nothing else, neat to see the path that has led to where ever you are. But, like, don't think this is some high minded, stale artsy affair. The presentation is slick, but wildly offbeat. Almost all of the entities you encounter are anthropomorphic animals, including a pair of laid back felines - cool cats, if you will. And hands down, the best narrative piece was about a grizzled warlord owl attacking me to reclaim his karaoke title.

The actual gameplay is sunshine and smiles too. Part strategy game, part sci-fi theatre, you'll give orders to move your flotilla around the three-dimensional battlefield, then finish issuing your commands, at which point, a thirty second space opera commences. Ships move into place and throw hellfire at each other as you sit back and watch. "Sit back" here is a poor choice - this stuff keeps me on the edge of my seat. Lose a ship and it's gone for good, but tear an enemy to pieces and it's worth a smile. Watching those missiles fly, I've sworn out loud as a tactically poor move cost a precious ship, but laughed as carefully ministered flanking and concentrated fire finished off an enemy's.

In my last game, I took down an enemy fleet fully twice the size of my own, a fleet I faced as the outcome of one of the decisions I had made. After one of the most emotionally exhausting showdowns I've ever experienced, a grueling fight to the last, I emerged victorious. On the next planet, I reached the end of my life and died as a captain who will, in an oddly intimate way, live on in my personal legends. I can't promise anyone would get what I have out of the game, but it's an experience I'd recommend with the whole of me. And hey, know what else I'd recommend? Caps.



* - Every Good Boy Deserves, uh, First?

* - While not unaware of the downsides of digital distribution, I'm a fan of the optimist's perspective.

* - Corduroy Turtle raises the Buy it, Avoid it Report once again.



M - tokidok gives a spelling lesson - there's no 'ea' in 'future.'

A - supamunky points out that Origin isn't the origin.

A - I will scowl and mutter until the day I die about how statistics are the bastard child of mathematics, but still, man, it's a graph. Right on, NeruoChems.





I - Marc Paric says hi. Say hello to Marc Paris. Hi Marc Paris!

I - Studying dead people - your gateway into the employ of Mr. Destructoid. Hi Victoria Medina!

I - Static Jak. King. Doctor. Blogger.



T - Fullmetalfox has a healthy love of bars.

T - ManWithNoName wants a game starring Terry McGinnis's prettyboy face.

R - dunnace is all about fuzzy anthropomorphs and robots

P - meteroscrap shifts the blocks of the mind.





L - Aaay.

C - Mother of pearl, I flinch when I read the word 'lol.'





- Bey

FPoTD