Let’s Talk about Twitch

On August 6, 2018, I began executing a long term plan to achieve my dream. There were many factors in this plan, and one of them was that I’d finally start streaming on Twitch seriously, instead of just occasionally. This has brought with it a lot of positives. I have grown a sizable community of almost a thousand followers who have shared incredible gaming experiences with me, such as our journey through Final Fantasy X and our ongoing playthrough of the Phoenix Wright trilogy. These followers have supported me to a degree that I never expected, and some have become as passionate about the fight for accessibility in games as I am. Yet, despite all the positives, negatives have begun to creep in, and there’s a very high chance that I will have no choice but to switch streaming platforms. Let’s get into all this.

What it boils down to is that Twitch is becoming more and more inaccessible to the blind with each update. First, it was the login screen, but that could be bypassed by authorizing your Twitch account in an app like Nightbot, which counts as a Twitch session in your browser and thus logs you into Twitch. Then, things got more serious. The ability to modify the information on your videos post-stream, and the ability to export them to Youtube directly from Twitch also became inaccessible. I am grateful to have people I trust that are willing to help with that bit, but that’s not really the point. And yes, I could download each video and import it individually, but that’s not really the point either. The point is that a system exists on Twitch to do these things, and I cannot personally use it due to inaccessibility.

Since I did have willing and helpful people though, I soldiered on through this trouble as well. Now, though, an update is about to be released that further cripples the blind accessibility of Twitch. The new dashboard, available in preview right now, makes it impossible for the blind to edit their broadcast information, such as title or game category. This seems like a small problem, but I have heard stories of Twitch taking misnamed streams very seriously indeed. This is just another example of basic functionality no longer working, and for me, it may be the last straw.

The things I’ve discussed so far are things that specifically effect me as a streamer, but don’t worry, certain aspects of viewership on Twitch are difficult. Gifting subs is doable, but requires a battle that you have to be willing to invest time in to win, because no part of it reads naturally with a screen reader. Subbing to a channel for yourself is equally difficult on the main Twitch page, but in that particular case, there is an alternative sub page you can use. The point is, Twitch is just getting harder and harder to use, and the fact that there doesn’t appear to be any indication of positive change makes it difficult to stay.

I have reached out to Twitch about these issues multiple times, but have never once gotten a response. I understand that I am not one of the big timers, but that doesn’t mean my voice should be ignored. Twitch has shown a lot of interest in accessibility advocacy via charities like Ablegamers, but it appears that interest is generalized, and that there is little to no concern for its disabled userbase.

Let me be real. I don’t actually want to leave Twitch. I’ve talked briefly about my community, and I love them. I am grateful for them every day, and I can’t argue with the consistent growth the community as experienced as time goes on. I am now in a place where, occasionally, I make money on Twitch, meaning it feeds into all the other things I do. That said, it’s hard to ignore the fact that a far more accessible platform, one whose accessibility is improving with each update instead of going backwards, is staring me in the face. Do I continue to struggle with a platform that, for me at least, just constantly degrades, or do I go to a platform where I sort of already feel welcome thanks to their accessibility efforts, despite the fact that that means losing the community I have spent a year building? It puts me in a difficult position that I am not a fan of. I’m not expecting anyone to draw any conclusions from this post, but I felt these concerns should be brought up by someone experiencing them. I hope you’ve enjoyed this post for what it’s worth. Thanks for reading, and continue to be awesome!

Silent Protagonists and Blind Gamers

Before we really get into this, I want to point out that this isn’t specifically a blind accessibility thing. This particular blog is my own opinion, colored by the perspective I have as a blind gamer. It is entirely possible that other blind gamers have a different opinion on this subject, and that opinion is quite valid. That said, I want to discuss my thoughts on silent protagonists in games, and why I personally don’t like them much.

To be clear, I understand the reasoning behind the silent protagonist. Not giving your character a voice is a way of asking the gamer to project themselves onto the character, voice and all. There is a certain amount of sense to that, but as with most things in video games, it’s quite a bit different when you’re blind.

When a sighted person plays a game with a silent protagonist, they still have a reference for that character. They still have physical form within the game world, which the player can view. In most cases silent protagonists are more about projecting personality than physical appearance. Even in a situation where they’re both, such as a first person shooter like Doom, the sighted person still has something to look at. In doom’s case, it’s the character’s gun, and the red mist that appears if you’re very hurt, an effect used to indicate your eyes are bleeding. With a blind person, this is all gone.

For me, a game with a silent protagonist feels false. I end up feeling like the story is lacking a depth it could achieve if only the character could have actual conversations. While the story is told to the sighted in facial expressions, body language, sword flourishes, and so on, I hear sound effects, and just want more. It is as if I was handed a blank canvas and told to paint a character onto it, but wasn’t given any paint to use. That may not be the greatest metaphor, but it’s the best I could come up with to describe how it feels.

On the other hand, protagonists who speak, who lend their own personalities to a game, are some of my favorite characters. Tidas from Final Fantasy X is a little whiny, but passionate and, when it comes down to it, a stalwart warrior. Joel from the Last of Us is complex and deeply wounded, with motivations based on his life experience. I love these characters and many many more, because I can fully connect with them. I hear the trepidation in their voice as they make the decision to do something they don’t’ want to do. I hear the resolve as they come to realize that they must do something difficult for the greater good. These are general examples, but I think they make the point. I like getting immersed in a story the game is telling me. When there is player choice, I certainly do try to project myself into making that choice, or make it based on how I feel the character would given the way their personality has developed over the course of the game, but I’m OK with that character belonging to the game at the end of the day. Tell me a good story with good characters, and you’ve got me.

Again, this is entirely my opinion, but my hope is that it gives you some perspective on one way a blind gamer might think, and inspire discussion. Before I go, though, I will ad one thing. There are exactly 2 games where a silent protagonist is great, and those happen to be both of the modern Southpark games. The reason this works, though, is because they used the silent protagonist trope specifically to make fun of it, and I can laugh along with everyone else at that. As always, let me know what you guys think, and thanks for reading. Continue to be awesome!

is Fortnite Leading the Way Into the Future?

Today, February 2, 2019, an event took place in Fortnite. This time, though, it wasn’t one of their typical world and story events. This time it was, no joke, a live concert. But to me, it was so much more. What I witnessed when I witnessed this event was incredible potential. So incredible that I had to write about it, and believe me I never expected to write about Fortnite.

The concert was incredible. About 20 minutes beforehand, a mode called Showtime appeared in the game, wherein the circle stayed in Pleasant Park, the location of the concert stage, and gave everyone a countdown timer to get there, which was of course counting down to the concert itself. Marshmallow, the performing artist, even did a mic check beforehand. Sounds like such a small thing, but that clued me in to how epic this was going to be. Once that counter finally hit 0, everyone automatically became weaponless, and the show began.

Now you might think the show was nothing more than some piped in music, no kills, and people doing Fortnite dances, but you would be wrong. Yes, the music played, and everyone began to dance, but then it got crazier. Remember, this is all in a video game, so they can do more than just throw lasers at you. As the first beat dropped after the intro and the big pyro exploded, it bounced all the characters that were present up into the air. Later, just as the lyrics of the current song were “we can fly,” that’s exactly what happened to everyone. Suddenly everyone was flying, looking down at the spectacle beneath them. As the show went on, the DJ activated his mic, asking everyone to squad up and show off their favorite emotes. I see through this portion, as it’s highly unlikely he was watching anyone in particular in reality, since the concert was taking place in likely thousands of matches at once. Still, it’s the fact that the show was more than just music and light that I’m getting at here. I can’t even play Fortnite, but hearing the reaction of my fiancé as she experienced this event was truly an incredible moment.

That’s how we now get to the point of this blog. Now that I’ve witnessed it, I am boggled by the fact that technology like this isn’t being leveraged in tons of other ways. We are in a digital age, an internet age, and there are so many insane applications for this kind of thing! I understand that not everyone has amazing internet, but those who are playing a game that requires at least decent internet probably have the decent internet they need to play it. So how about leveraging this kind of tech to create things in MMO’s? Why must most games have precise, controlled world events that are always the same, just triggered by the developer at different times, when they could be doing just about anything? Why not use this technology to make the player feel even more a part of the game world than they already do?

Come on, devs! Wanna hype some big space military operation? Have your players head to a briefing location, and host a live briefing there like in Ernest Cline’s Armada. Live streamed dialog of some authority figure explaining what must be done, screens showing targets and operational concerns, all of it. I will no longer buy the idea that that cannot be done, because we have just witnessed it. And while you’re at it, devs, change your game world live like Fortnite does. Don’t just make a video and call it done, make actual changes. Don’t be scared, and don’t apologize for it. People might not like it, but they’ll be able to talk about how they were there for it.

Community is a powerful thing. Games recognize that to a certain extent, but how much more could emersion be increased if things like this are fully embraced? The craziest thing here is that Fortnite, of all games, appears to be the first. This game that started as such a small thing with a tacked on Battle Royale mode is now leading the way in interactive live events? Playstation Home tried to do things like this, true, but never took it to the level Fortnite has, and also never actually functioned all that well either. It’s incredible, and I hope people are taking notes. I’m certainly thinking other performers could find a way to use this, but like my previous Armada example, that’s really only the beginning here. Let me know what you guys think of all this, and where you think we’re going in the future. As always, thanks for reading, and continue to be awesome!

Final Fantasy X: Journey toward a Community

When I started my Final Fantasy X Playthrough, I really only had one goal in mind. That goal was to do what I usually do, and use the game to demonstrate what the blind are willing to go through to game, and what made the game playable in the first place. That was its only intent. What I didn’t expect, though, is what happened, and that’s what we’re here to talk about today. Even as I write this, I am still mulling over my feelings now that it has concluded, and that is a good thing in a lot of ways. I will now attempt to put this all down as best I can. Here’s hoping I do a decent job.

The things I began playing the game to do actually happened almost right away. I wanted to demonstrate the patience required to play the game blind, so I did by allowing myself to wander until I found my next objective, or the next item I needed, in the beginning. I wanted to demonstrate the bits that aren’t so accessible, and I did that by talking about the sphere grid, and the cloisters of trials. I showed the world how the combat system was very accessible, since every attack from every monster sounded different, and combat menus could be memorized to determine whose turn it currently was. After all this, the accessibility demonstration portion was basically over, aside from questions that came from newcomers now and again. I had effectively done the job I set out to do with this game. As it happened, though, I wasn’t done just yet.

I have had a long history with Final Fantasy X. I have, in fact, beaten the game twice before, utilizing help from the sighted only in the parts where it is absolutely required to proceed. So, as I was demonstrating all these things to my viewers, I was drawn to play it again. I was committed to sticking it out, and at first, content to just beat the main game, the same thing I had done before, on stream. I figured it’d be a pretty neat idea. But then, something I didn’t expect started to happen.

Gradually, as the playthrough went on, its identity began to change. Except for those previously-mentioned newcomers, I didn’t have to explain anything anymore. My viewers made 3 things very clear to me. They got it, they respected it, and they wanted to help. Before I knew it, people were pointing me in the right direction for our next objective, or shouting for me to stop because I had just walked past that save point and they didn’t want me to miss it. At first, while I appreciated these gestures, it didn’t quite hit me what was happening. I admit I took them as temporary kindnesses, and didn’t intend to ask for or expect more help than what I absolutely needed help with.

The thing is, the level of connection people had to the playthrough, and the level of assistance they offered, kept increasing. It started to click with me that this was something special, and so I eventually put up the idea of doing all the endgame content I had never been able to do on my own so long as the viewership was willing to continue to help me in the ways that they had. Not only did they agree, they agreed immediately. They were completely into the idea, and wanted to help see it through. And that, if you ask me, is when the real journey began.

The Final Fantasy X playthrough had become a collaborative event. It had morphed from being a thing I was doing to make a point or 2, into a thing that all of us were doing together. Now, people weren’t just telling me where that save point was, or which way I should start walking to get into a new area. Now they were telling me how many dark matter I had, where I could find that monster in the monster arena, and how I as a blind person could play the necessary mini game required to get a few ultimate weapons. To continue to put some perspective on the level of caring and collaboration that existed here, one viewer had started trying to think of a way to build a servo mechanism that would attach to a webcam, and automatically press the X button when lightning flashed in the Thunder Planes, just because he wanted me to be able to complete an in-game challenge related to an ultimate weapon. Those who were knowledgeable about Final Fantasy X were giving me tips on how to farm things easier, and suggestions about ways to fight monsters, and start building my stats for the endgame. If a suggestion created any kind of accessibility trouble for me, we discussed it, and I think a lot of enlightenment came out of those talks.

This attitude toward the playthrough continued, and grew with my audience. Every now and then, someone new would take interest, and more often than not, become a part of the community that was being built around this. It was incredible. The viewers were getting eager just as I was getting eager. Everyone wanted to reach those end game bosses, Nemysis and Penance. That was the goal now, you see. Not just to beat the game, but to beat all its toughest bosses as well.

And so we pushed on. We farmed things, we chatted as I did some grinding for levels, we tested ourselves against other difficult monsters and optional bosses like the Dark Aeons. There were highs and there were lows. Every time another really difficult opponent was defeated, we all cheered and celebrated. But when we found out that, in order to even successfully hit Dark Yojimbo, we needed to increase the party’s luck stat, something I had been basically ignoring up to that point, we groaned a little. No matter what, though, we pushed on.

And so it was this continued until January 21 of 2019. That was the day when both Penance, the biggest toughest boss of the game, was defeated. We then wrapped up the main story, and enjoyed the end together. All the while, the collaboration never stopped. I was running short on time, so one of my viewers, the same one with the crazy webcam idea, hopped into a convenient PS4 shareplay, and walked me to the final confrontation with Sin, the final story boss. I then took control back to finish the job.

I am moved by what this has become. As I said, I’ve beaten the main story of the game before, but never has it meant so much to me as it did this time. As one particular viewer stated, this was the very definition of an odyssey. It was an adventure that all of us participated in, and finished together. Even those who couldn’t help directly, who showed up to check progress or to watch for a while, were part of this event. Furthermore, this event has spawned future plans as well. Now that I truly know the insane support system I have behind me, I’ve decided to dedicate part of my channel to a series I’m calling Let’s play Together, where we attempt to do more collaborations like this. Next up will be the highly-acclaimed JRPG Persona 5, which we have technically already begun. I cannot wait to see what becomes of that playthrough.

I know I am lucky to have found those I have. People who care about me and my content, and who embrace what I’m trying to do. In their way, they are helping me do it. They are amazing, and I couldn’t ask for a better group. I said at the end of the playthrough that, as much as they’ve given me, I hope I have given them something too, whether that’s just entertainment, or enlightenment some of them may not have had before about blind gamers. Maybe, just maybe, seeing this level of caring and collaboration will inspire someone in a way I cannot predict. For now, this event stands as something I will always remember, and a true foundation of my Twitch community.

Muddy Waters Aren’t Always Bad Things

Over the course of many blogs here, I have described many ways in which the blind play games, and ways in which they get the things the mainstream games out there aren’t yet providing them. However, I woefully neglected to mention one particular facet of blind gaming existence, and thanks to inspiration from a few of my followers, inspiration they may not have known they were providing, I am going to correct that. Let’s talk about Muds!

In this context, mud stands for Multi-user dungeon. A simplified description of what this means would be an MMO that is completely text-based. no graphics, no sound unless someone codes a sound pack, which happens sometimes and can be quite cool, but is certainly not required. It’s all about the writing, and all about interacting with a world in a way similar to the clasic text adventures of old, with varying degrees of difference depending on the mud you’re playing. In even shorter terms, it is the blind person’s current answer to MMORPG’s, and it’s hard to argue with. It’s presented in a format both blind and sighted can appreciate if the sighted among them can handle games without graphics. I spoke a bit on that in my Choice of Games Love letter. Muds can be just as dynamic, just as social, and just as feature-filled as any MMO. In some ways, they actually have even more freedom.

You know those MMO’s that let you build a house? Well that’s all well and good, but when you’re building a house in an MMO, you are limited by the available assets and materials in the game. However, most Muds will allow you to write your own description for every room of something you build, meaning it really is all yours. You’re limited by your own imagination, unless of course the mud enforces some basic guidelines. No lightsaber collection in a medeval fantasy, for instance. Still, it feels pretty good to construct something, even if it’s in a Mud and even if you’re imagining a large portion of it, for yourself. I imagine it is a similar sense of accomplishment to that of reaching the same goal in an MMO.

I won’t speak too much more on the mechanics of muds, because they are far, far too varied. Yes, you might think a genre like this would be dying out in this day and age, and certainly Muds don’t host player bases of millions like World of Warcraft or the Old Republic, but there are still hundreds, yes hundreds of them, and some are going relatively strong in comparison to others. The inspiration for this article, in fact, was that a brand new Mud, one boasting a complete RPG-length storyline, side quests, and full MMO features, just went live. It’s called Starmourn, and i haven’t tried it myself, but I feel like I probably will. The thought of that storyline draws me like a moth to a flame. I love narrative.

As I always say, though, this is not justification for not making games, even MMO’s, accessible. We still want to experience the things everyone else is experiencing. We want the grand scale, the production values, the voice acitng, the incredible audio in some cases… We want those things. Muds are great, and they serve a fantastic purpose, but we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be held to a standard. Let’s play muds. Let’s play a lot of them, and enjoy them, but all the while keep striving for improvement in accessibility. I dream of a world in which we don’t have to entice the sighted away from their graphics because we’re all playing the same games. I believe that can and will happen, but for now, muds.

Seriously, you should try one. Try the new one I’ve just told you about, Starmourn, or try my old haunt, New Moon. Try a mud based on the Discworld franchise, or the Final Fantasy one. All those and much, much more are available. There are tons of worlds to explore and interact with, even though it’s all text. There is fun to be had, there are people to meet and conquer giant bosses with, it’s all there, down in the mud.

I know this blog is kind of short, but I think it says what needs to be said, and sheds light on another tool we blind gamers use to get what we’re craving. As always, I’m happy to continue the discussion via my Twitter, by email, or even in the comments of this very post. Thanks as always for reading, and continue to be awesome!