Archive for the ‘Entertainment’ Category

A Giant’s Passing

Posted: December 12, 2014 in Entertainment
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Ralph BaerLast weekend, videogames lost their father: On Saturday, December 6, at the age of 92, Ralph Baer—inventor of the videogame and progenitor of a 100-billion-dollar global industry and an obsession, hobby, or pastime for more than a billion people—passed away.

The story begins in 1951. New York-based electronics company Loral tasks one of its engineers—Ralph Baer—with designing the best TV set the world has ever seen. An engineer other than Baer might have stayed within the bounds of the request, designed the set and left it at that. But Baer’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he runs with it. The standard method of testing televisions—using a piece of equipment that allows you to manipulate lines and patterns on the screen—gives Baer an idea. What if, he thought, you built that functionality directly into the set, and allowed users to control it? You’d transform TV-watching from a passive to an active experience.

In short, you could make it a game. But would anyone care?

It would take some time to find out. Loral didn’t bite—in retrospect, a spectacularly shortsighted move—and Baer’s idea lay dormant for 15 years. But on a late summer day in 1966—while he was running the Equipment Design Division of Sanders Associates—it came back with a vengeance. During a New York City business trip, inspiration struck, and Baer laid it all out in a four-page document. There it was: in a single stroke, he’d written videogames’ origin story and the Book of Genesis for an entire industry. A year later, he and fellow Sanders techs Bill Harrison and Bill Rusch demoed the first target-shooting game—complete with light-gun controller—and by the end of 1967, they’d finished the world’s first ping-pong videogame. Baer dubbed the machine the Brown Box, and in 1972, the world met it as the Magnavox Odyssey.

The rest, as they say, is history: The Odyssey begat Pong!, Pong! begat the video arcade and the home console, and the arcade and the console together begat the vast multitude of games around us.

Baer has repeatedly said that if he didn’t invent the videogame, someone else would have. But the fact is, he did, and it’s hard to overstate the impact of his creation: For better or worse, every MMO, casual game, FPS, mobile game, platformer, tower defense, RTS, side-scroller and exer-game, every virtual world, world-builder, open world game, trainer and simulation, all owe their existences, at least in part, to Ralph Baer and the Brown Box.
And we who play them, who work with them, who create them, all of us who take pleasure in their distractions, marvel at their wizardry, or stand captivated by their beauty—we all owe him a debt of gratitude. Mr. Baer, you will be missed but not forgotten, and we who remain to game raise our D-pads and thumbsticks, our tablets and Wiimotes, our quarters and tokens, with respect and reverence. And with a press of a button or the drop of a coin, we play on.

Baer

Screenshot, This War of Mine, 11 Bit Studios

Screenshot, This War of Mine. 11 Bit Studios.

Picture this: you’re trapped in a war zone, forced to take shelter in an abandoned, derelict building. You’re with a couple of strangers, all separated from their families; your homes and possessions are gone, destroyed in the conflict. You have no weapons, no way to defend yourselves, no comforts but what you can fashion from wreckage, and nothing to eat but what you can scavenge from your war-torn city. You’re hungry, tired, and scared, and your only options are to die tonight, or survive the night and try not to die tomorrow.

This is the reality that This War of Mine depicts: war is not heroic and it is not glamorous. War is harsh and brutal. It is a grim struggle for survival, and it spares no one.

War, in short, is hell.

Developed by Warsaw, Poland-based 11 Bit Studios—known for its tower-defense-on-its head Anomaly series—This War of Mine portrays armed conflict from a perspective that game aficionados rarely consider, and developers never present: the civilians all too often caught in the crosshairs. The game is about survival, about hunkering down and waiting out, about risking your life—and the lives of others—just to scrape by for another day. You don’t take up arms and fight, you stay quiet and invisible, and pray for the return of the sheltering dark, when you can venture out once again.

This War of MineThe game is slated for release later this year, so I haven’t had a chance to play it yet. However, reviewers at Polygon were treated to a preview by the developer, and even watching the gameplay is harrowing. This War of Mine is dark—literally and figuratively—and intense: everything about it, from the environment to the gameplay, is designed to engender unease. The game sets you on edge from moment one and holds you there for as long as you can stand to play.

Perhaps more significantly, This War of Mine is morally and ethically challenging: You’re forced to make life-or-death decisions every step of the way, some of which involve stealing food or medicine from others in need, or withholding help to conserve resources for your own group. While this may turn the odds of staying alive in your favor, it does so at the expense of someone else who, like you, was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The message is clear: during war, all bets are off. The laws of nature reign supreme, and the only rule is survival.

Though this game may never put an end to war, for those with the courage to play, it sheds a welcome light on the human cost that others so often leave in the shadows.

For 11 Bit’s official game website (including a trailer), click here.

Polygon has some gameplay footage on their website here.

And you can read more about the game and the developers behind it here.

 

 

 

Lara CroftFor a few years now, I’ve been raving about Crystal Dynamics’ reboot of Tomb Raider and their reimagining of its protagonist, Lara Croft, from a scantily clad, hypersexualized, adolescent male fantasy to a more realistic, appropriately dressed and anatomically restrained, tough, gritty survivor (see my earlier post here). I applauded their depiction of her as an imperfect woman forced by circumstance to make difficult choices and carry out some fairly gruesome acts in order to stay alive and save her friends. Lara’s not proud of what she does, nor does she take pleasure in it. She does it because she has to, because her only other option is to give up.

That both gamers and critics praised Tomb Raider came as no surprise. At long last, the franchise had a game that looked stunning, played beautifully, and featured a tough, intelligent heroine that both men and women cared about and could believe in. Here, at last, was the Lara Croft we’d all been waiting for.

And now, Crystal Dynamics has done it again. At Microsoft’s E3 press conference this past Monday, they revealed a teaser trailer for Rise of the Tomb Raider, slated for a late 2015 release. The trailer features all the energy and excitement of the first game, including a few very tense moments of Lara in peril—no surprise there. But it features something else, something unprecedented in the history of gaming.

Rise of the Tomb RaiderThe video begins, not with Lara escaping death or brutally overcoming an attacker, but with her in therapy. You read that right: therapy. We see her on the edge of a chair, cloaked in a hoodie, head downcast. As the therapist talks, Lara digs her fingers into the upholstery, clenches her fist, bounces her leg. She can’t sit still. She’s clearly anxious and uncomfortable. This is not the bulletproof heroine we’ve come to expect, casually shaking off the death she’s dealt. Lara has experienced horrors the likes of which most of us can’t imagine, and she’s been deeply affected by them. But neither is she a broken woman. Battered and scarred yet alive, she’s found away to exist in between. Her therapist continues:

For many people, these traumas become a mental trap. They get stuck, like a ship frozen in ice.”

Lara HoodiePTSD. That’s what he’s talking about. This is classic Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Lara is suffering from something that affects nearly eight million American adults, that’s all too common among veterans of war and survivors of abuse, that can strike at any age, and that can tear families and communities apart. She has PTSD, and she’s dealing with it. That a video game is so directly dealing with this is extraordinary. And that Lara is working through and recovering from the trauma of her ordeal may provide hope to those facing traumas of their own. I’ll leave you with the experience of a young woman suffering from PTSD who, while playing Tomb Raider, discovered just that:

It didn’t hold any punches, but it didn’t need to… it affected me in a way years of therapy never did. It healed me in a way that no one’s physical comfort, words, and condolences could ever do. It made me realize that, much like Lara Croft, I survived as well—and that I had my own path to walk. That my experiences were real and tangible and yes, they defined me, but that I’d have it no other way. I am a survivor and I am alive.”

After years of buried trauma and hidden pain, this young woman had found solace and salvation by her own hand, through Lara Croft and the game. By reimagining Lara, Crystal Dynamics has done the impossible: from a game heroine, they’ve created a human being.

Halo 4Are video games art? It’s a question that’s been posed many times, particularly over the last decade as the power and speed of graphics processors and gaming machines (exemplified by the Xbox One, PlayStation 4 and Wii U) have reached the point where digital artists have virtually unlimited ability to give their imaginations free rein, allowing them to create and deliver visual landscapes of stunning beauty, richness, and depth. Many of these worlds are so engrossing that gamers regularly find themselves captivated, forgetting, for a moment, to play and pausing to admire the view—to, in essence, stop and smell the virtual roses.

Okay, fine. Video games are visually spellbinding. But, again, are they art? The late Roger Ebert, film critic and bearer of the almighty thumb, famously said “no” and paid the price for it, as outraged game aficionados called him to the mat for failing to recognize the virtues of their favorite medium. In contrast, the National Endowment for the Arts declared, in 2011, that video games are art, and for the first time in history opened up the possibility of federal funding to assist digital artists in the development of video games. Of course, neither of these points of view answers the question, but both clearly indicate the range of opinion on the subject.

La NoireI suspect that no matter who you ask, you’ll hear a variety of responses, and most won’t be a simple yes or no—and the debate will probably never be settled (at least not to anyone’s satisfaction). Nevertheless, museums around the country are throwing their hats in the ring through a traveling exhibit entitled, appropriately, The Art of Video Games. And though it doesn’t claim to be the final word on the subject, it aims to at least push the conversation forward. The exhibit kicked off in March of 2012, at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, D.C. (as good an institutional judge of art as any, I suspect) and is now on a ten-city tour—including a stop a stone’s throw from my hometown at the Hudson River Museum in Yonkers, NY.

Which is where I’m writing this, books in hand and ready to extoll the social, cultural, and, yes, artistic value of video games. It’s not that I feel any particular need to validate them to professional critics or anyone else who staunchly refuses to see any merit in the form (though I do have game developer friends, and I’d like to see their work taken seriously and truly appreciated). It’s just that I truly believe that they are art—and further, that when you really spend time with games and explore what goes into creating them, the issues developers are attacking, and the messages they’re trying to communicate, that conclusion becomes inescapable. Take Jonathan Blow’s Braid, for example, which deals with forgiveness and desire; Ryan Green’s That Dragon, Cancer, an attempt to cope with his own son’s terminal illness; or Flower, by Jenova Chen, which explores our relationship to nature. As you progress through each of these games—as well as a host of others for which there isn’t the time or space to do them justice here (Bioshock, Super Meat Boy, and Deus Ex, just to name three)—the story gradually falls into place, and you gain insight into the developer’s world view. Even the infamous and, I would argue, mostly misunderstood Grand Theft Auto series reveals some scathing social commentary for those who care to look just a bit below the surface. Some games, like Fez, are boundlessly joyful and beautifully presented, and some, like Myst, Riven, the Halo series, the recent reboot of Tomb Raider, Uncharted 2, and the unfortunately canceled Star Wars 1313 are simply gorgeous to behold, their worlds rendered in artistic splendor, filled with music befitting a symphony hall. By any definition you care to apply, these games—and many others—are, quite simply, art.

Tomb Raider

The biggest criticism of video games seems to be that their very nature—their interactivity and reliance on a player—invalidates their inclusion in the list of artistic media. This stems from a quaint and woefully mistaken concept of art as a unidirectional exchange: the artist presents us with a vision or an idea, and we passively receive and, at most, react to it—as if viewing it through a one-way mirror. But true art is a conversation. We take it in, react to it, and seek to understand the artist’s frame of reference and what s/he’s trying to tell us about a particular time or place. We examine our reaction—how do we feel? Why? How does our frame of reference affect our response, and what does that say about us? How does approaching a work of art from our reference point and our experiences change the original work? And ultimately, what is the artist trying to communicate about humanity at large, about our perception of and place in the world? Certainly, not all video games achieve this—but then neither do all works of more popularly accepted forms of art. However, when they do, their interactivity gives video games an immediacy and impact that can far exceed traditional artistic works.

Like painting, sculpture, writing, photography, and music, video games range from simple to complex, derivative to revolutionary, and profane to sublime. They can elicit feelings of hope and fear; longing and despair; grief, loss, joy, and love. They can heal our bodies and open our minds. And if we let them, they can teach us about the world, about each other, and about ourselves. In the final analysis, that is the mark of true art.

But don’t take my word for it, come and see for yourself. For those in the Westchester County region, the exhibit’s at the Hudson River Museum until May 18. For more information, check out the museum’s website. You can also find out the next stops for The Art of Video Games on the Smithsonian’s website here.

One of the biggest issues with Roger Ebert’s criticism of video games was that he’d never played them—and refused to do so, ever. Since that time, people with actual video game experience have weighed in on the question. You can read some of their answers here.

There’s also an in-depth look at the artistic aspirations of one particular game, Journey—developed by Jenova Chen’s studio Thatgamecompany (of Flower fame)—in The New Yorker.

Keith Stuart, games blogger for The Guardian, has an excellent piece on the issue here.

You can also find information here about a new journal, The Arcade Review, and its mission to, as the author says “push the dialog of video games and art.”

And finally, New York’s Museum of Modern Art has been acquiring video games as part of its Applied Design exhibit. You can find a list of some of the games here.

In my previous two posts, I talked a lot about avatars and some of the rather intriguing and exciting developments happening regarding virtual worlds. In brief, both are evolving far beyond what early digital pioneers could have envisioned when they took their first steps into virtual reality. We have the ability today, as demonstrated by LucasArts’ E3 reveal of Star Wars: 1313, to render near-photo-realistic environments in real-time. Absolute photo-realism is a mere skip in time away—five years at the outside—and completely immersive, realistic virtual worlds experienced through any connected device are already on the horizon.

This does not spell the death of the avatar. Avatars will, I’m fairly certain, always have a place within gaming and VR. But we’re fast approaching a technological revolution the likes of which humanity has never experienced. Soon we will have the ability to interact with virtual environments directly, without filtering our actions through a digital intermediary.

Very soon, in fact. Prototypes of The Oculus Rift VR headset show great promise in delivering fully-immersive 3D gaming to the masses. With it, you can climb into the cockpit of a star fighter and engage in ship-to-ship combat, surrounded on all sides by the vastness of space and the intensity of interstellar battle (as with EVE VR). Combine the Rift with the Wizdish omni-directional treadmill and a hands-free controller like the Xbox Kinect, and you can transform a standard first-person shooter into a full-body experience—allowing you to ditch the thumbsticks and literally walk through a game’s virtual environment, controlling your actions via natural motion of hands, feet, arms, legs, and head.

In the world of augmented reality (AR), Google Glass will hit the streets later this year, providing users with a wearable, hands-free interface between the real and the virtual, enhancing your interaction with reality, and allowing you to transmit  your view of the world across the globe.

But the real future lies in a recently Kickstarted project by startup tech company Meta. Meta’s developing a system for interacting with the virtual world that tears open the envelope of the possible, and drives the line dividing virtual from real one step closer to extinction. It’s a combination of stereoscopic 3D glasses and a 3D camera to track hand movements—allowing for a level of gestural control of the virtual world previously unseen (think Minority Report or The Matrix Reloaded).

Unlike the Oculus Rift, the Meta system includes physical control and also works in real space (not strictly a virtual gaming world). And unlike Google Glass, Meta creates a completely immersive virtual environment. According to a recent article by Dan Farber on CNET,

Meta’s augmented reality eyewear can be applied to immersive 3D games played in front of your face or on [a] table, and other applications that require sophisticated graphical processing, such as architecture, engineering, medicine, film and other industries where 3D virtual object manipulation is useful. For example, a floating 3D model of a CAT scan could assist doctors in surgery, a group of architects could model buildings with their hands rather than a mouse, keyboard or stylus and car designers could shape models with the most natural interface, their hands.”

In other words, with the Meta system, the wearer can actually enter and manipulate the virtual world directly, altering it to serve whatever purpose s/he desires. Atheer, another recent entry into the field of AR, is working on a similar system. Like Meta, Atheer’s technology uses a 3D camera and stereoscopic glasses for gesture control, and also provides direct access to the virtual world. According to Atheer founder and CEO Sulieman Itani,

We are the first mobile 3D platform delivering the human interface. We are taking the touch experience on smart devices, getting the Internet out of these monitors and putting it everywhere in [the] physical world around you. In 3D, you can paint in the physical world. For example, you could leave a note to a friend in the air at [a] restaurant, and when the friend walks into the restaurant, only they can see it.”

The biggest difference between the two systems is that Atheer isn’t building a hardware-specific platform; it will be able to run on top of existing systems like Android, iOS, Windows Mobile, or Xbox. Apps built specifically with the Atheer interface in mind will be able to take full advantage of the technology. Those that aren’t optimized for Atheer will present users with a virtual tablet that they can operate by touch, exactly like an iPad or Galaxy Tab. Here’s Itani’s take:

This is important for people moving to a new platform. We reduce the experience gap and keep the critical mass of the ecosystem. We don’t want to create a new ecosystem to fragment the market more. Everything that runs on Android can be there, from game engines to voice control.”

We’re rapidly approaching a critical stage in our technological evolution, nearing the point at which we’ll be able to work, play, and live, at least part-time, in hyper-realistic, fully-immersive virtual worlds, just as we do in real-world spaces today. So, what does this mean? Games will get better. Virtual worlds will become richer and more complex, and take on greater significance as we spend more time in them. And we, as humans, may begin to lose our grasp of the real. I spoke to Kim Libreri at Industrial Light and Magic about this, and he agreed that this could become a real problem. The human brain, he said, is a very flexible learning device. With the gains in fidelity that we’ll see in AR over the next decade, he believes that, as the human race evolves, it’s going to become more and more difficult to separate what’s real from what’s not. The longer we coexist within those places, the harder it will become, and this could begin to create problems. As Libreri said,

There’s a real, tangible threat to what can happen to you in the cyber world, and I think as things visualize themselves more realistically . . . think about cyber-crime in an AR world. Creatures chasing you. It’s gonna be pretty freaky. People will have emotional reactions to things that don’t really exist.”

It might also render people particularly susceptible to suggestion. It’s a bit like the movie Inception, where ideas are planted deep within a subject’s subconscious—except this would be easier. If you can’t distinguish the virtual from the real, a proposal put to you in a virtual world could seem like a really good idea someone presented in reality. If this sounds like science fiction, consider for a moment how vulnerable we are to the power of subliminal suggestion or even direct messages within everyday advertising. No, if anything, the intricacies of our approaching reality will most likely far exceed our ability to imagine them.

Of course, there are positives and negatives with any technology. Through highly accurate simulations, immersive virtual worlds could allow people to visit places they might otherwise not be able to. They could also provide greater and more intuitive access to information, and the ability to use and manipulate it in ways that are today all but unthinkable. Whether the looming future of alternate reality will be predominantly good or bad is irrelevant. It is coming, one way or another, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. If our past history and the ever-increasing speed of development and change are predictive—or at least indicative—of future events, then alternate reality, in whatever form it assumes, is poised to bring an end to the separation of virtual and real. And if that happens, we will all bear witness to the birth of a singularity beyond which the nature of human interaction—and indeed, of humanity itself—will be changed, fundamentally, forever.

You can learn more about the Oculus Rift here.

… and the Wizdish treadmill here…

.. and here.

There’s a video demo of Google Glass here.

And a demo of EVE VR here:

More info about EVE VR is here.

You can learn more about Meta and their computing eyewear here…

… and here.

You can read about Atheer here:

And for an overview of the future of AR, check out this article:

In my last post, I said that avatars were all the rage, and they are—and most likely will only become more so within the next five years. Why then? That’s when Philip Rosedale believes we’ll see intricately detailed virtual worlds that begin to rival reality. If you don’t know Rosedale, you know his work: back in 2000, he created the first massively multiuser 3D virtual experience. It was more alternate reality than game, and with perhaps a nod to his desire to build a world that would become an essential component of daily existence, Rosedale called his creation Second Life.

For many people, Second Life became just that. Users (residents, in the SL lexicon) could log in, explore the world, build virtual places of their own, shop, find support groups, run businesses, have relationships… in short, everything people do in “real” life. The experience is engaging—so much so that some actually find it as involving as their first lives, if not more so. However, no one would mistake Second Life for reality: visually it resembles animated film—the fidelity is good, but it has nothing on the real world. To become truly immersive, the virtual component must be thoroughly unquestionable—enough to fool our brains into believing that we’re in the grip of the real.

That’s where we’re headed—rushing headlong towards, in fact—and Rosedale is at the fore in getting us there. At the recent Augmented World Expo in Santa Clara, CA, he dropped a few hints as to what his new company, High Fidelity, is cooking up. At its heart, it could be a 3D world that’s virtually indistinguishable from reality, offering a vastly increased speed of interaction, employing body tracking sensors for more life-like avatars, and applying the computing power of tens of millions of devices in the hands of end-users the world over. Within five years, he believes that any mobile device will be able to access and interact with photo-realistic virtual worlds in real time, with no discernable lag.

We’re already seeing the first signs of this. Last summer, I spoke with Kim Libreri at ILM (this was before the Disney purchase) regarding the stunning but now-doomed Star Wars 1313:

We’ve got to a point where many of the techniques that we would have taken as our bread-and-butter at ILM a decade ago are now absolutely achievable in real-time. In fact, you know, a render at ILM—or any visual effects company—can take ten hours per single frame. This is running at thirty-three milliseconds—that’s like a million times faster than what we would have on a normal movie.  But the graphics technology is so advanced now that the raw horsepower is there to do some incredible things.”

Star Wars 1313And this is today. Within five years, he told me, they’ll achieve absolute, indistinguishable-from-reality photo-realism. Regarding the ability of mobile devices to connect to the type of virtual world Rosedale envisions, he’s a little more conservative. In this case, the bottleneck isn’t computing power but the speed of Internet connectivity, which depends on more factors. Still, Libreri sees that being cleared within 10 years. And that’s it—we’ll have removed the last barrier to delivering hyper-realistic, fully immersive virtual worlds to any device, anywhere. From that point on, the possibilities will be limitless, bounded only by the extent of our imagination.

The implications of this, though, are another matter entirely—and one I’ll take up in my next post. Until then, I’ll leave you with a taste of the possible: Star Wars 1313 videos here

… and here.

You can read more about Philip Rosedale’s Augmented World Expo talk here.

And you can learn more about the Augmented World Expo here.

Perhaps you’ve seen the 2006 James Bond film Casino Royale. If so, you’ll remember the opening scene, an adrenaline-fueled foot race through an unnamed Madagascan city, Bond pursuing his target—Mollaka—along and above the city streets. Mollaka leaps impossible gaps, rolls, dives, drops to his feet from vertiginous heights, and climbs vertical surfaces with skill and panache that Spiderman, at his best, would be hard-pressed to match. And Spiderman had green screens and a wire team to help him. The actor playing Mollaka? Not so much. It’s all him, start to finish—no tricks, no special effects. Just skill, strength and a whole lot of training. He’s Sébastien Foucan, French traceur and one of the founders of parkour.

For the uninitiated, parkour, or freerunning, is a physical discipline focused on overcoming obstacles by adapting your body’s movement to the immediate environment. In theory, it involves climbing up, vaulting over, or leaping around obstacles. In practice, it’s more like ignoring them completely. For experienced practitioners it’s not about defying gravity, it’s about denying its existence, about reducing its laws to mere suggestions that can be disregarded at will. The best traceurs and traceuses—male and female practitioners, respectively—move like a mélange of acrobat, gymnast and superhero. And they make it look easy. Search “parkour” on youTube, and you’ll see what I mean: there are literally hundreds of videos of people performing feats of extraordinary strength and agility.

At least, they’re extraordinary to some of us. Gamers do this everyday—virtually, that is: Parkour-like moves have been a staple of videogames since the days of Super Mario 64 and Prince of Persia, and the capabilities of today’s gaming consoles have allowed game developers to expand parkour into major elements of gameplay. Mirror’s Edge, Crackdown and Crackdown 2, Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland all incorporate, and even rely on, elements of parkour to move their characters through the game.

But there’s one series in particular that’s helped bring parkour out of the game world and back into the real: Assassin’s Creed.

Assassin’s Creed is an action-packed historical-fiction adventure that focuses on stealth and, yes, parkour—and it inspired amateur filmmaker and avid gamer Devin Graham to create a series of videos centered around one of the game’s main characters. He contacted traceur and professional stunt man Ronnie Shalvis to embody Syrian assassin Altaïr ibn-La’Ahad. Ronnie played the game to capture Altaïr’s style of movement, and then incorporated it into his own, bringing the character to life. To complete the transformation, Devin enlisted the help of freelance costume designer Allison Dredge, who created a custom outfit that mirrored the character’s look and provided Ronnie the freedom of motion he needed to pull off stunts and help realize Devin’s vision.

And then the fun began. Devin and Ronnie scoped out their location—downtown Salt Lake City—and then created a two minute and forty-one second video that defies reality (spoiler: the only shot that uses any special effects is the first fall). You can check it out here, and while you’re watching, consider this: a videogame, inspired by the real world, creates real-world inspiration.

And the line between real and virtual blurs again.

*pwned=owned, beaten severely, shown to be inferior.

To see how Devin and Ronnie created the video, check this out.

Here’s a link to Devin’s YouTube channel.

And here’s Ronnie’s YouTube channel.

If you’d like to learn more about Allison’s costume work, check out her facebook page.

This link gets you to the Assassin’s Creed main page.

For more info about parkour (including videos!), check out this link

this link…

and this one.