Blueblood

Disclaimer: It is highly unlikely that the game under discussion here will ever be made. I just wanted to talk through ideas on this concept and, perhaps, figure out why no one has made it yet.

So, here's the five second pitch: An MMO based on old-school 2D-scrolling shoot-em-up's.

I periodically search to see if there's a beta for anything like this; apparently something of the kind was once made for a Korean market, but the servers have since gone offline. Now, I think this could actually be made to work, especially since 2D Beat-em-ups have already spawned multiple games on the market currently.

So, let's walk through this concept, to see if there's any fundamental difficulty in the enterprise:

First, the meat of the game is obviously going to be the combat. How is this going to work? In normal SHMUP (i.e. Gradius), your ship is usually a One Hit Point Wonder, which "levels up" very quickly through dropped power-ups from destroyed enemies, and has a limited number of "re-spawns" to get through a gauntlet of waves and bosses.

Now, giving a ship more "hitpoints" is a simple enough manner, but the thing about MMO's, and RPG's in general, is that progression in power is generally more gradual, with dungeons and bosses spaced further apart. Furthermore, many of these areas are set up so that the character has to be at a certain level of power to beat, regardless of the skill level of the player. In SHMUP's, skill is paramount, since at any point you can die and be sent back to Level 1 (in terms of character power.)

Is this overcomeable? Yes, there have been hybrids of the SHMUP and the RPG in the single-player world, most notably RPG Shooter Starwish (found here). It uses RPG stats to determine how much damage you give when you hit, and how much damage you take when you are hit, but getting hit or hitting is more up to player skill, which is probably a good place to start. In theory, the waves should be designed so that a skilled player could do a "pacifist run" through any of them, regardless of whether his ship/weapons are up to that "level" yet.

Or, if the waves are instanced, they might possibly be scaled to the player's level. This would also allow the difficulty to be set at the beginning, perhaps including a "One-Hitpoint wonder" mode, for all the old-schoolers.

The Second Big Issue is the Multiplayer aspect. SHMUP's have a long tradition of Player 1 and Player 2, which seems like it would be easy to adapt to a system of small parties, though I'm not sure how easy it would be to work with 4 player ships on screen at the same time (more would be silly). In any case, I suspect that Soloing would probably be a more than viable option in this hypothetical situation.

Still, if there are parties, would class roles work? Sure, as ships are customizable, builds might be designated as "Tank" or "DPS", though crowd control would be tricky, and healing possibly abusive. That would have to work through a lot of testing, but I still think it could be done. Or they could disregarded entirely; it's not necessary to the core of the game. Really up to the designer's vision (and budget), and allows room for variety in the market.

Again, I'm a conceptualist and writer, so I don't know how difficult this would all be to program.

If you have any suggestions as to why this would be more difficult than I think it would be, or have any cool suggestions you want to talk through, please post them!

Hm, this looks intriguing. If it's not too late, I might give it a go myself, depending on how my schedule works out.

Name: Norton Breakbeak (The First)

Gender: Male

Age: Adult, middle-aged

Species: Griffon

Eye colour: Auburn, flecked with gold.

Character colour: His bird half is that of a bald eagle, with white feathers making for a smooth round head, while the wings are, by contrast, black. The cat half is a mountain lion, with the golden-brown fur common to the kind.

Other: He has cultivated a truly magnificent mustache for a griffon. It is dark grey and full-bodied with waxed, curly tips.

Physique: His tour in the Aquellian Marines has left him with a basically sound body which has not run to fat, though it is a little slower than it used to be.

Residence: Breakbeak City, though he often calls it his Imperial Capital

Occupation: Self-declared Emperor. He lives off his medical discharge pay.

History: Norton Breakbeak was born to a moderately well-off family from the Clopton shores, or at least well-off for the area. The family were one of the few permanent residents of the place, and kept a small shop for the vacationers when they came, and spent the rest of the time fishing and tending to a small vineyard. Young Norton was the youngest of several chicks, and worked happily on such tasks as fell to the youngest son. Mostly, it was in keeping the shopfront clean, neat, and attractive, which he did with aplomb. He had an inclination for cleanliness and neatness, as it happened; his parents never had to force him to bathe or clean his room, which slightly worried them.

Aside from these early idiosyncrasies, Norton had more or less a normal childhood, full of the small adventures than any young griffon might get into in a small coastal town. Like most of the young ones, he always admired the Marines when they came down on vacation, or on training exercises. Seeing them parade about and swagger in their dress uniforms was a real treat for him, and he would often hide close by whenever a squadron came down to the coasts in uniform.​

One day, he even got up a facsimile of a uniform from various hand-me downs, washed pale and worn, but hemmed to neatness by an indulgent mother, and surreptitiously inserted himself at the end of a row of Marines presenting themselves for inspection upon the beach. The sergeant was not a griffon without humor, and went along with 'joke,' including the young Norton in the exercises, where the rest of the squadron more or less adopted him as a mascot. It wasn't quite according to regulations, but the officer was away, and central command was very far away, so what could be the harm?

Norton came home that day announcing his intention to join the Marines, making his parents quite proud. His father even went so far as to see if the young lad could be put into some kind of Officer's training, and directed Norton's remaining education to that goal. It was a success; Norton was accepted to the Military Academy in Talonopolis, and the whole town showed up to see him off.

While he wasn't the most brilliant student at the Academy, his diligence and particularity had a way of endearing him to instructors, and he was always willing to lend his classmates a hand if they were struggling. In the end, he got his commission and first assignment in a mountain outpost unit, guarding the Talonopolis Canyon against monster incursions. He served well, eventually earning a promotion to Captain, and was then reassigned to a Desert Patrol unit, which would clear out any bandits that threatened the borders of Aquellia.

Unfortunately, the patrol turned out to be a complete disaster. The major in charge of the unit was inexperienced in desert travel, and most of the rest were just as green as him. The unit got lost, and found themselves stranded without water and in need of rescue themselves. Norton, along with quite a few others, was suffering from severe heatstroke, and was served with a medical discharge.He took to wandering after that, not quite right in the head anymore. There weren't many places that a griffon could live on a Captain's three-quarters pay, but Breakbeak city was one of them. He took a small lodging, in a room above a worker's diner, and spent the next few years living quietly, practically as a recluse. Most of his day was spent in reading every paper and book that came from Aquellia, or in taking exercise flights around the city.

Nopony or griffon in the city, then, paid him any much mind until they opened their morning newspapers to be greeted with this astonishing letter, which Norton had sent in to every paper in Equestria and Aquellia that would print it:

To the Citizens of Breakbeak City, and the Griffons of Aquellia;

As the management of our political affairs has so developed that dishonor and degradation are its maintstays; in response to the crying needs of our time and at the peremptory request and desire of the large majority of these citizens of Breakbeak City and the Republic of Aquellia, I, Norton Breakbeak, do hearby assume my rightful title of Emperor, and declare my sovereignty over this, my namesake city, and over the domains invested in the former Republic of Aquella.

AND, in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, I declare that the ruling Triumvirate of Tribes is to be dissolved, and so do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different Tribes of the Griffons to assemble in Aerodrome Lobby, of this city, on the 1st day of Feb. next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of Aquellia as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity.-Norton Breakbeak I, Emperor of the Griffons.

Needless to say, no one reading that was entirely certain what to make of it. The first question on the muzzles and beaks of all readers was "Just who is this Norton Breakbeak?" He wasn't hard for them to find. Perched on the balcony of the only building on the street which had all the industrial soot scrubbed off of it was Norton I, in all his finery (purchased from the local pawnshop.)

In the weeks and months that followed, the astonished populace awoke to the fact that, no, Norton was not joking; he really thought of himself as the Emperor, albeit one still in need of solidifying his position. Second, this "Emperor" seemed to believe that the bustling, dirty, workaday depot city of Breakbeak was really one of Equestria's great metropolises, which neglect had allowed to fall into a state of decay, which he proposed, by Imperial edict, to remedy. He would write to newspapers, and show up in full regalia to town council meetings with propositions and plans of action, surprisingly well-thought out, for "restoring the Imperial Seat."

While nopoony or griffon in the city takes him seriously, and none outside seem to have acknowledged him yet, the consensus is that "The old fellow's mostly harmless, bit of a laugh really, and he does care enough to keep his stoop clean. Heck, he'll clean yours if you call him 'Your Imperial Majesty,' and promise to take care of it after." In fact, he's already made a marked improvement of the street he lives on...

Character Summary: Obviously, he has quite huge delusion of Grandeur, though whether this is a holdover from his heatstroke, some new madness bred of isolation, or a very elaborate plan of some kind is not possible for the outsider to tell. His family hasn't yet heard of his new calling in life, and it isn't certain what they'd do if they found out.

Besides this one spot of madness on his brain, however, he's a surprisingly clear thinker. He's well-read up on things happening at home, and is quite adept at summing up the situation and providing an opinion upon it, though political matters soon segue back into a recommendation of his own Imperial Person. In his daily habits, he is as scrupulously clean as he ever was, keeping his living quarters neat spotless, which is an endless battle against dust and soot in Breakbeak city. He calls it "A noble war against dirt and degradation." His manners are good, if somewhat in the military manner, and he treats his own secondhand regalia with all the respect due to his old dress uniform in the marines.

His routine will vary from day to day, but he gets out quite a bit more than he used to, parading himself in finery around his "domains," which are pretty much any business that won't bar themselves to harmless lunatic. He also "holds court" in the diner below his apartment, talking to any bemused patron who has a few minutes to spare.

Oddly enough, he's one of the most enthusiastic patriots that his adopted city has. Emperor or no, he'll work with his own claws on any city improvement project, and propose a dozen more to any who will listen. He's currently working on a grand plan to make Breakbeak city worthy of housing an Emperor, and there are some quite good ideas in there, mixed with more outlandish proposals.

Welcome to the site!

Hello and welcome! Don't know if we'll see each other around the boards, but it's always good to see a new face here!

Hello and welcome! You seem to be a rather cool fellow, good to have you on the site!

Hm, how coincidental; I have a pegasus who uses the exact same flying technique. Great minds think alike, it seems.

Okay, so there was this one particular sushi roll - yellowtail, pickled beet, cucumber, drizzled with pepper sauce and blueberry jam. Odd combo, but it was really good.

"That's what I'm counting on!" Earth Writer called out after his marefriend as he waved goodbye. Already, the sorrow of parting was mingled with the anticipation of the next meeting, and vague but exciting plans were buzzing around his head. All in all, though, his dominant feeling was happiness, and he whistled a happy tune as he walked home, half-oblivious to his surroundings.

*When and where will we meet again?* The stallion thought to himself as he let himself into his flat. *Anywhere will do, and anytime as long as it's soon.* There might have been the makings of a poem in there, but he drifted off into a happy dream before he thought to write it out.

(Thread Concluded)

Earth Writer enthusiastically returned Sugar Apple's hug, unaware that theirs was only one of several farewells happening on the station. He had no desire to take his attention off her, even for a moment, especially now. "Mmm, it's certainly been my best ever Hearts and Hooves day, for sure."

Like the pegasus mare, this was the first time he'd had anything like a special somepony to spend this day, or for that matter, any other day, with. *Oh yes, I could definitely get used to this.*

He pulled back, to get a look into her eyes, before leaning in to give her a kiss goodbye. It the most deliberate kiss of the evening, not sudden or pushing, but unmistakably sincere. He pulled away as the first whistle of the train pierced their ears. "Thank you," Earth Writer said to her, "For a most wonderful day."

All right, then. Hope things come together soon!

Oops. Hm, how about now: http://rackenhammer.deviantart.com/art/A-cobbled-street-in-Belgrade-393745256

Earth Writer didn't care enough of his idle theory to give it another thought. After all, it wasn't all that important, not near so important as the fact that he was with Sugar Apple, or that she would shortly have to depart. "Well, yes," he agreed hesitantly, "I hadn't thought of that, but... if you did fly away, I shouldn't be able to see you off." He blushed in the streetlight glow. It was such a small point, he knew, but he would like to at least give her a good send-off at the station. That was a thing you did, when your date came to visit you by train, right?

"It's not so far." He hastened to assure her. "Just a few minutes's walk, really." Indeed, a low shriek of a whistle could just be heard over the rooftops, though getting there was a roundabout affair, which involved at least one cut through an alley, though not a long or dirty one.

And then, turning a corner, the couple were just in the blazing lights near the platform. "There you are, see? And it's only 6:50, too, plenty of time to catch the train." He stepped back with a flourish, as if he had just conjured the entire station from his hat.

Ignition was quick to answer his questions, and though her spitfire nature had a way of taking him aback, he had to admit it did put him at his ease to know he was in the hooves of a professional. Seemed that he was late in the set, which was alright with him. It was even something of a relief to know he wasn't the only non-rock act; his more dreamy electronica might have not been received well if the audience was expecting something high-energy all night.

"[colour=#40E0D0]All right. It's not just keyboards though.[/colour]" He gestured one of the roadies over to his case where his stuff was packed, where he drew out a flight breathing mask and a microphone. "[colour=#40E0D0]It took me a while to figure out how to connect them so they got the right sound. Not too muffled or distorted, but more out of the mind than the mouth, you know?[/colour]" Truth be told, the sound wasn't that different from a more-or-less simple production effect, but done on the performance rather than the recording end, which gave it a subtle air of authenticity that it might not have otherwise had. He'd heard the sound before on the radio, but had to re-create it in his workshop without knowing how it was really done.

He put it together, and showed it to the room as he spoke through it. [colour=#40E0D0]"My dad had a lot of things laying around in his workshop; I built most of my gear out of his leftovers.[/colour]"

Advice noted. I try not to take cross-country buses in any case, unless they've been privately commissioned.

(BTW, here's the street from Belgrade I based the scene on. The restaurant's real too, and was very good)

https://photos-1.dropbox.com/t/0/AAA6pYYgO2zsSaDYU8P19j5h907xuVxsADW6o-E95x2ijg/12/201844509/png/32x32/3/_/1/2/Three%20Hats%20Street.png/dZEC0Pp0ZeXFD96OEqGsr3hLQj7BVf6oGQ8MuTvR6Yg?size=1024x768

The pair stayed to listen, as the strains could be heard through the open doors of the restaurant. [colour=#8b4513]*One day, I'm going to take her to dinner here... maybe.* [/colour]Earth Writer[colour=#000000] didn't want to sound too arrogant, even to himself, but it was exactly the sort of place he could picture her enjoying.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]For more reasons than one, as it turned out. He raised an interested eyebrow as Sugar Apple recognized the old song, and recalled the old legend behind it. "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]I've heard something of it, though more about how they spread those seeds all over Equestria. One of my professors, the one that actually got me interested in Geography in the first place, actually, suggested that the Zap Apple trees were descended from an old orchard seeded in ancient times that the forest swallowed and changed magically.[/colour][colour=#000000]" He shrugged. "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]I don't know myself, but it makes for a good story, don't you think?[/colour][colour=#000000]"[/colour]

[colour=#000000]The last chorus floated out the door into the night, and the unicorn nudged his date to follow. "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]I don't want you to have to rush for the last train. These streets can be a little treacherous if you take them too quickly.[/colour][colour=#000000]" [/colour]

They say you never forget your first big gig, and Fetrock certainly was leaving it's impression on Sky Sailing. Up until now, all he'd done was make a few EP's in his basement, and played at a few small shows for his friends. Apparently, he'd impressed them, since they all chipped in to pay his travel expenses to come here.

He re-adjusted the black cap and goggles that were part of his stage gear, rubbing the road dust off them. As a starting act, he'd had to carry all his own stuff up until now, and he gazed with no small amount of awe at the roadies as Ignition made her introduction. Other acts were around him, some he recognized, which the whole experience that much more surreal. [colour=#40e0d0]*Well, my songs fit the occasion, at least.*[/colour]

He was one of the first that had a question, and he put it after taking a few deep breaths. "[colour=#40e0d0]Um, what order are we going in? My setup's kind of elaborate, and it's hard to move when it's fully put together. Is there a place where it can be set up out of sight so that you don't have to haul it all the way from backstage?[/colour]" He wasn't sure how naive the question sounded; the pegasus was obviously quite new to the concert scene, at least from this side of the stage.

It was true, Earth Writer had to admit. If he hadn't tried to get an apple during the race, there wouldn't have been that first meeting, from which came everything else. "[colour=#8b4513]From such small beginnings do great things grow. Much like a seed, now that I think about it.[/colour]" He ended his musings with a grin, reflecting the light of the lamps. "[colour=#8b4513]I don't what what fruit this is going to bear, but I'll love finding out![/colour]"

As he led Sugar Apple through the less-traveled thoroughfares, he paused at each street sign to check his bearings. "[colour=#8b4513]There's one more thing I want you to see before you go. It really takes a local to know how remarkable it is- ah![/colour]"

The pair had arrived at a quaint and uneven street, roughly paved with cobbles, but cheerily lit, with strains of music coming from a lighted restaurant further down. "[colour=#8b4513]This is the Appia, the oldest street in Canterlot. Most of the others, especially near the aristocratic quarter, have been torn up or renovated or remade, but most of these stones were the same as they were when first laid[/colour]." He pointed a hoof at the restaurant, whose sign had not words, only a picture of three hats. "[colour=#8b4513]I don't know if that's the oldest restaurant, but it's one of the best. Not an everyday sort of thing, and I couldn't have afforded it, save that the paper treated us all to New Year's Dinner there, but it's not snobby in any way, and the food is both good and plentiful. There's even live music most nights, as you can hear.[/colour]"

He stopped for a moment to listen to the strains of a fiddle and guitar, playing out an old folk song of the mountains, possibly older than the city itself.

"[colour=#8b4513]Hm...[/colour]" Earth Writer stood for a while with Sugar Apple, waiting for the University crowds to pass by. Memories of his own student days came back to him, and he had to chuckle at the contrast. "[colour=#8b4513]I wasn't much part of the party crowd myself; my floormates would usually have to drag me out to whatever was going on, if they could get me away from whatever I was studying at the time.[/colour]" The stallion shrugged, his face thoughtful. "[colour=#8b4513]I have to wonder, would we have looked at each other twice if we'd met back then? Life sure is full of surprises.[/colour]"

The streets had begun to thin out when Earth Writer offered a hoof to his date, and began to escort her across the street. The setting sun had thrown the narrow passageways into shadow, and already the streetlights were illuminated, reflecting light onto the cobblestones from the many windows facing the street. "[colour=#8b4513]Now, if I remember, there's a shortcut through these streets back to the station. The plaza can get crowded at night, and we might not get through the press if we take the main thoroughfare."[/colour]

I can contribute a couple: Might Batsman and Wordsworth Psmith

Hm, I've been looking for a thread I could bring Sky Sailing into as a musician, and this seems to fit the bill very nicely!

I may contribute a character or two to the audience as well, but I'm not sure which ones at present.

Earth Writer grinned. "[colour=#8b4513]That's one of the joys of travel, isn't it? Finding the things we didn't expect. Have to admit, it did take me by surprise when I saw it, too. Comes from growing up in a small town, I guess.[/colour]"

His date's comment about coffee table books caused him to take a closer look at the selection. "[colour=#8b4513]Hm, not much here today on that. But yeah, I know what you mean. I have an atlas at home; I really like maps myself, especially the old hoof-drawn ones. I could spend an hour taking in the details.[/colour]" He smiled in reminiscence as the pair moved slowly along. "[colour=#8b4513]Kind of takes me back; when I was school, I'd finish work before most of the students, and spend the minutes between assignments staring at the world map, just thinking about all the different places it showed.[/colour]"

A few more blocks brought them to the University Boulevard, a wide street cutting through the smaller neighborhoods, linking the colleges to the Plaza. A lot of students were streaming down towards Downtown Canterlot, as classes had mostly let off for the evening. Many of them had dates, and were taking them to such places as they could afford on an undergraduate's budget. Earth Writer thought he recognized a professor or two in the crowd as well. "[colour=#8b4513]Did you bring a camera with you? This would make a fine picture.[/colour]"

All righty then!

I might bring in Earth Writer to this, if there's still room in the venue.

Welcome back!

You can count me still interested.

(So long, Greenshot!)

"[colour=#8b4513]Hm, I think the last train out to the Heartland is the 7:05, so we should have a few hours.[/colour]" A few more hours in his date's company were a very welcome thing, but the mention of the time-table reminded Earth Writer that it would have to end at some point. [colour=#8b4513]*So, what do I want to show her before she leaves?* [/colour][colour=#000000]As he pondered, he found his feet walking in familiar paths, and got an idea. "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]I know! I'll show you around my neighborhood; it's between the Plaza and the University, on the opposite side from the palace.[/colour][colour=#000000]"[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Canterlot was a strictly organized city, the limited building space more or less enforced strict zoning. The large, traditional houses of the nobility were on the Palace side of the Plaza, where the shelf jutted out, providing a view to all the valleys of the ivory towers and gilded turrets of the Royal Residence. The far side of the Plaza was where the professional classes had their workshops, with rents getting cheaper as the roads approached the University, rooted into the side of the mountains.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]Earth's neighborhood was rather closer to the University than otherwise; the streets were narrower, and rutted, but the whole looked more lived-in than broken-down. The buildings were mostly of brick rather than stone, russet and weather-stained. Small townhouses and urban flats were interspersed with shops and cafes, inelegant but homely.[/colour]

[colour=#000000]"[/colour][colour=#8b4513]Most ponies don't think of places like this when they hear of Canterlot,[/colour][colour=#000000]" The journalist told Sugar Apple as they walked the streets, "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]But not everypony needed to run a city can live in a mansion. I certainly couldn't afford it on a journalists' salary![/colour][colour=#000000]" He laughed, slowing down as he approached a small bookshop, operated out of one of the narrower buildings. The overstock specials were lined up on a table outside, and he gave them a lookover. "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]The sales are a bit of a pot-luck, here, but this is one of the better bookstores in the city. I actually found two award-winning authors having coffee at that very table in the next door cafe, and scooped an impromptu interview![/colour][colour=#000000]" He smiled at the memory, remarking, "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]What sort of books do you read?[/colour][colour=#000000]"[/colour]