A friend and I were sitting around the other night browsing apps in the Android market on our phones when I stumbled upon a free, RPG style game with an “organized party battle system” and a “touching story on an enormous scale”. My first thought – “buuuuulll$#&%” but I downloaded it anyway ‘cause like momma always said, rock it before ya knock it, right?
So after updating all the essentials like my Live Blue Flame wallpaper and Dictionary widget (Jesus Christ I’m cool) I started installing Tales of Inotia 3: Children of Carnia! It fired up and I had to select a class – of which there were about five or six, all standard fare for an RPG. I went with Paladin, just over Rogue and “Shadow Hunter” (Archer) and the story began.
I was in some sort of flashback of a Barbarian whose sister had been captured by dark elves. After a little bit of intro dialogue I started caving some blue elven skulls with my dick-compensator of a giant ass sword and my bevy of special whirlwind moves. The controls were pretty basic but all there – action button, special hotkeys, directional pad.
I caught up with my sister and engaged in some dialogue with her emo-elf captor, who surprised me by mind-controlling her into attacking me! There the flashback ended and something dawned on me.
Am I… Am I ENJOYING a phone game?
Now I’m sure there are tons of you out there who committed the last 3 years of your life to dominating the ever-loving Christ out of Angry Birds but you have to understand that to me phone games have seemed like a load of crock since that Snake-Eating-Apples, Garden of Eden metaphor excuse for a game that used to be on all our little Nokia phones.
Even when I brought home my very own $200 little black rectangle late last year I spent about fifteen minutes playing a Metroid-meets-Cave-Story rip off before I essentially abandoned that page of my phone altogether. But as with all things technological, I guess they were bound to improve eventually.
So, Inotia. Normally it wouldn’t be considered much of an accolade to be recognized as one's favorite pooping pastime, but I think that changes when you end up pooping LONGER because of it. I probably poop like four more times a day than usual now because I know it provides me with more valuable Inotia time. Hell, I even play when I’m NOT pooping – can you believe?
And then, oh and THEN, I ran an errand with a buddy to a phone store yesterday and while I was deliberating which body part to gnaw off to escape the torment of a 12-person Sprint store line, I stumbled upon a little shooter called N.O.V.A. on an HTC phone in the corner.
N.O.V.A. has got to be one of the most committed HALO rip-offs since that Samsung Epic 4G commercial last year, but in the context of what I’m talking about, that actually might be more of a point of impress than insult. The controls are pretty rough since you can’t aim and shoot at the same time, and though it tries to compensate with some maaajor auto-aim assistance they might’ve been better off just going with a lock-on mechanic.
(Translation – “Touch screen where you see: Weiners”)
ANYWAY. Back to the point – what the $#&@? Suddenly I’m all into cellphone games? What the hell’s happening? I won’t even buy a PSP to carry my favorite eye-straining activity around with me yet here I am gleefully dumping valuable time into sub-par games from unheard of developers on a shoddy interface.
There are only two possible explanations.
1. Excessive strip club attendance has FRIED all rational portions of my brain with glitter-booby overload, OR
2. Phone gaming is finally hitting it’s fuckin’ stride.
And you know what? I’m in. You go phone games. If I can get texting, internet, GPS, and decent little RPGs and shooters for the cost of a family plan and not have to drop $40 every time a new title comes out – I say “hasta la Vita” baby.
P.S. I also just downloaded Zenonia 3 from the market the other night and have been cheating behind Inotia’s back with it after it goes to bed. What can I say, better music, cuter animations, and cooler toys. Who doesn’t crave something a little younger and tighter now and again?
God damn you strip clubs for turning me into a dirty old man 40 years early.