Dying And Killing: Causality

Life is cheap in games. In the old days, you'd get three or four for a quarter. Games have gotten more expensive, but lives haven't, largely thanks to multiplayer. In some multiplayer games, there's a server setting called "Force Respawn", so the dead can't even rest. It's right back into the fight with them.

Here are some random thoughts on ways to die and kill in games.

The Dying

The Struggle
I remember The Empire Strikes Back for the Atari 2600. It was just me in my tiny snow speeder against an endless progression of walkers. The designers did a great job of making me feel like a wasp trying to kill bears. My shots didn't slow the walkers. Theirs batted me around like I had no mass at all. I furiously pumped dozens of shots in them, slowly changing their color and eventually destroying them. I think my ship could maybe take two shots before turning into debris. Yep. The old games were often purely about putting my back up against the wall and then coming straight at me. Death brought that bizarre combination of frustration, relief, and resolve to do better that brought me back for more.

This is death as a learning experience, death as a challenge.

The Cheat
This is the kind of death that completely undermines The Struggle. It happens when a hazard that was established to inflict a minor penalty is instantly lethal, when an AI opponent is stuck inside a tree, able to attack but never to be damaged, or when the camera angle makes me misjudge a crucial jump or attack. There's a credibility bank that games develop where I'll tolerate a certain amount of cheap deaths if I feel the game is mostly fair.

This is death to get your quarters or artificially lengthen a game. Sometimes it's just plain thoughtless game design or making a game hard because games are supposed to be hard.

The Doom
This is when I have no chance. When the game or the other player has backed me so far into a corner that there's nothing to do but die. If it's not a cheat, it can be a sight to behold. To think of every option and see that it has been accounted for and eliminated can be as impressive as it is horrible. Clevuh gehl.

The Random
Many games are not games in the strictest sense. They are simulations of other realities, some more fantastical, some more mundane. In these simulations, death comes swiftly and indifferently. Friendly fire kills just as quickly as hostile fire. These are often unsatisfying deaths. After being the hero for so long, it's not much fun to be just another grunt, to feel that my forward progress is at the whim of a random number generator. Why play a game that feels so indifferent? I've got the real world for that.

In multiplayer, it can be different. Sometimes the huge amount of death flying around is like a circus. Rounding a corner to see a wall of superheated plasma flying at you can actually serve as comic relief. It is a good day to die.

The Killing

The Struggle
The amount of effort required to make a kill is often commensurate with its perceived value. The last Space Invader nets the same amount of points as the first, but the effort required to lead the target is what makes it a special challenge. The

The Cheat
This is using a cheat code or weakness in the AI to essentially skip the struggle. It's generally less rewarding, but sometimes a game is so uninteresting that I just want it over with. Sometimes the AI cheats so badly that I feel like I'm levelling the playing field. Sometimes it's just fun to be free of even the phony consequences games impose and act with impunity. Want to punch a guy in the face while his bullets bounce off you harmlessly? Go nuts!

The Doom
There's nothing like outmaneuvering a skilled live opponent. A tactical decision is formed in an instant. The execution must be perfect. It is. The feeling of perfect planning and execution under intense pressure, knowing that any mistake will end me, is the razor's edge. It's the purest rush. Some single player games come very close, throwing so much death at me that my mind can do nothing but follow the dance that's being led.

The kill that comes at the end of it is the purest relief and exultation. Those feelings overwhelm everything else. I'm just so happy to be alive, so amazed that I pulled it off, that there is almost nothing else. In multiplayer, it can be topped off by an acknowledgment of the skill involved by the deceased, of course, so this is the kind of kill that never feels real.

The Random
Sometimes I'm shooting at someone or racing somewhere and someone gets in the way. No one seems to have an AI smart enough to hear sirens or squealing tires and look to see if they should move. Most AIs aren't even smart enough not to run directly across a line of fire. Sometimes I feel bad about killing them, but mostly not. They are dumber than any animal. They are game tokens. The only problem is when their lives are tied to my success. That's frustrating.

Sometimes I have a hunch. Sometimes there's just so much opposition that firing some suppressing fire seems like it might be worth the ammo. To fire that rocket down the long corridor, keep running, and see your kill count tick up a few moments later is a special warm feeling.


Well, that's some stuff. You read it. Now you know. I don't think it's what I meant to write. It should also be mentioned that most of these anecdotes come from DooM 2 deathmatch (with a little GTA and generic action games thrown in). DooM 2 was the last time I had humans at my skill level to play with. TF2 is in the same league, but the fact that it takes eighteen people just to field two full teams means it's not possible to find the same balance and intimacy that DooM produced.