Way back in 2011, I saw a teaser trailer for a zombie survival game. Zombie survival games were around for a while by now, but something about the tone of this particular one struck a chord with me. It held a cartoony aesthetic with horror undertones that stood out in a sea of dark, brooding zombie games, while also attempting to build bases with multiple friends. It piqued my interest.
So, I decided to make a mental note to look out for the game whenever it came out.
A year would go by, and we still never caught word of an update. A couple years had passed, and I was reminded of that game again. I'd watch the trailer again and think "oh man, I hope they finish that game." At some point, I figured they up and cancelled the project outright.
Fast forward to 2017-2018, and abruptly I catch wind of that game again. Unexpectingly, Fortnite had become widely known. That one game I was watching and rewatching the trailer for years ago had released without me knowing, and had very quickly become one of the most popular games ever made.
... All by cashing in on a trend that I held no interest in, with a predatory micro transaction system to boot. My interest was no longer piqued.
See, I have a hard time playing games like this. Whenever I play games like Fortnite, I have a heightened awareness of the carefully designed systems beckoning me with their finger, calling for me like a Siren to take out my burning wallet for a juicy taste of momentary cosmetic pleasure. I can detect and sense the reaction building up within me, and it sickens my skin catching myself becoming lulled by the tactic.
This level of self awareness and understanding of these tactics have fortunately staved me off from partaking in the devil's cosmetics. I often purposely avoid these types of games, simply because I vehemently despise these types of systems so much.
But something about Fortnite would always come back to fascinate me.
What do you mean Fortnite had a full fledge concert take place within the game? What? That's insane.
What do you mean they've added multiple characters from multiple franchises and added new mechanics to accommodate their inclusion? What? That's insane.
What the fuck do you mean they not only dropped an entire new survival mode with Lego, but simultaneously dropped a racing game type and a Rock Band game type with an extremely robust emote music system that let's you change the tempo and mix other songs with one another? That's fucking insane.
If there's one thing to say about Fortnite, it's that it's ambitious. Epic has used the live service model of gaming that I hate and used those funds to experiment with the game to extreme ends. Which, honestly? I had distantly respected it for.
So when friends would come knocking on my door asking to come play with them, I was more willing to partake in the fun. I'd be terrible, of course, and those who've had money put into the game would become frustrated with my goofy antics of driving a car into enemies as a distraction, but I was having... Fun!
The loop of dropping down with your boys, surviving and surveilling a land that encloses around you with roaming packs of weebs and celebrity skins gunning you down has been an excilerating experience. Fortnite does a great job at letting your squad come up with a plan, executing that plan, as the game finds ways for players to develop the need to adapt and adjust their plans in order to win. It's a great gameplay loop.
While I was enjoying my time with Fortnite, for some reason, the game never clicked with me. Sure, it was fun, but it wasn't until a friend of mine showed me that Fortnite had both a creative mode as well as an entire theater mode that it hit me.
This was just what Halo 3 was for me during it's hayday.
This was the next generation's casual, feature complete, low pressure shooter experience.
And suddenly, it clicked.
With this perspective change, I quickly grew to appreciate Fortnite more. Things began to click with how I was approaching the game. Accompanied with the revelation, a friend bought me a battle pass, and I began to understand the progression system much more. The loop to unlock more and more had become addicting, and I've been actively seeking out to play the game on my own. I was rapidly becoming better at the game, and I found myself enjoying the game for what it is rather than what it does.
While this perspective has shifted into a positive direction, I'm still more than aware of what made Halo 3 so much more different than Fortnite.
Halo 3 respected me. The developers asked for my money upfront. The progression came in the box. My desire to gain new armor came through putting time and effort into the game. I earned my achievements, and felt extremely rewarded because of it.
Fortnite doesn't let this progression be as impactful unless you pay. It's a free to play live service, and you can partake in the experience, but you're not going to be as absorbed if you don't pay. This money isn't a set amount, and is nearly infinite depending on how long they provide the service. So I order to feel that itch to keep playing, you need to pay up.
One was a product, the other is a live service.
And that's my biggest problem with Fortnite, even still. Underneath this model, there's a genuinely fun, addicting and ambitious game. I can see that now more than when I wrote it off completely in 2017. But interacting with that system is like having the devil on my shoulder. I'm great at ignoring him, but I despise his presence. He brings down what would otherwise be a fantastic time.
A time I've been desparately looking for within the AAA space.
While I'll keep playing for now, since my enjoyment has by far outweighed the pressure to purchase anything myself, I don't expect to stay for a long time. At some point, the dopamine brought upon by the sense of progression will dull with the next battle pass, and I'll drop off from the game once again.
But it's still strange to say that I've been genuinely enjoying Fortnite.
So, I decided to make a mental note to look out for the game whenever it came out.
A year would go by, and we still never caught word of an update. A couple years had passed, and I was reminded of that game again. I'd watch the trailer again and think "oh man, I hope they finish that game." At some point, I figured they up and cancelled the project outright.
Fast forward to 2017-2018, and abruptly I catch wind of that game again. Unexpectingly, Fortnite had become widely known. That one game I was watching and rewatching the trailer for years ago had released without me knowing, and had very quickly become one of the most popular games ever made.
... All by cashing in on a trend that I held no interest in, with a predatory micro transaction system to boot. My interest was no longer piqued.
See, I have a hard time playing games like this. Whenever I play games like Fortnite, I have a heightened awareness of the carefully designed systems beckoning me with their finger, calling for me like a Siren to take out my burning wallet for a juicy taste of momentary cosmetic pleasure. I can detect and sense the reaction building up within me, and it sickens my skin catching myself becoming lulled by the tactic.
This level of self awareness and understanding of these tactics have fortunately staved me off from partaking in the devil's cosmetics. I often purposely avoid these types of games, simply because I vehemently despise these types of systems so much.
But something about Fortnite would always come back to fascinate me.
What do you mean Fortnite had a full fledge concert take place within the game? What? That's insane.
What do you mean they've added multiple characters from multiple franchises and added new mechanics to accommodate their inclusion? What? That's insane.
What the fuck do you mean they not only dropped an entire new survival mode with Lego, but simultaneously dropped a racing game type and a Rock Band game type with an extremely robust emote music system that let's you change the tempo and mix other songs with one another? That's fucking insane.
If there's one thing to say about Fortnite, it's that it's ambitious. Epic has used the live service model of gaming that I hate and used those funds to experiment with the game to extreme ends. Which, honestly? I had distantly respected it for.
So when friends would come knocking on my door asking to come play with them, I was more willing to partake in the fun. I'd be terrible, of course, and those who've had money put into the game would become frustrated with my goofy antics of driving a car into enemies as a distraction, but I was having... Fun!
The loop of dropping down with your boys, surviving and surveilling a land that encloses around you with roaming packs of weebs and celebrity skins gunning you down has been an excilerating experience. Fortnite does a great job at letting your squad come up with a plan, executing that plan, as the game finds ways for players to develop the need to adapt and adjust their plans in order to win. It's a great gameplay loop.
While I was enjoying my time with Fortnite, for some reason, the game never clicked with me. Sure, it was fun, but it wasn't until a friend of mine showed me that Fortnite had both a creative mode as well as an entire theater mode that it hit me.
This was just what Halo 3 was for me during it's hayday.
This was the next generation's casual, feature complete, low pressure shooter experience.
And suddenly, it clicked.
With this perspective change, I quickly grew to appreciate Fortnite more. Things began to click with how I was approaching the game. Accompanied with the revelation, a friend bought me a battle pass, and I began to understand the progression system much more. The loop to unlock more and more had become addicting, and I've been actively seeking out to play the game on my own. I was rapidly becoming better at the game, and I found myself enjoying the game for what it is rather than what it does.
While this perspective has shifted into a positive direction, I'm still more than aware of what made Halo 3 so much more different than Fortnite.
Halo 3 respected me. The developers asked for my money upfront. The progression came in the box. My desire to gain new armor came through putting time and effort into the game. I earned my achievements, and felt extremely rewarded because of it.
Fortnite doesn't let this progression be as impactful unless you pay. It's a free to play live service, and you can partake in the experience, but you're not going to be as absorbed if you don't pay. This money isn't a set amount, and is nearly infinite depending on how long they provide the service. So I order to feel that itch to keep playing, you need to pay up.
One was a product, the other is a live service.
And that's my biggest problem with Fortnite, even still. Underneath this model, there's a genuinely fun, addicting and ambitious game. I can see that now more than when I wrote it off completely in 2017. But interacting with that system is like having the devil on my shoulder. I'm great at ignoring him, but I despise his presence. He brings down what would otherwise be a fantastic time.
A time I've been desparately looking for within the AAA space.
While I'll keep playing for now, since my enjoyment has by far outweighed the pressure to purchase anything myself, I don't expect to stay for a long time. At some point, the dopamine brought upon by the sense of progression will dull with the next battle pass, and I'll drop off from the game once again.
But it's still strange to say that I've been genuinely enjoying Fortnite.