ocean oi reflections
I've meant to get to playing more freeware games for a while now. in the late 2010's, I began a period where I really enjoyed playing more high-budget console release type games. there's a lot of value I get out of those, of the specific things you can do with so many people pouring their hearts into something, of all the spectacle and gorgeous audiovisual flair. I love to experience the things people can achieve when they push each other together to the heights of their craft.
yet I missed something from my roots, as I practically grew up in freeware/indie online gamedev spaces. I love how personal, humble and daring free games can be. and more than that, I love connecting with others through their art. and now, especially as my life is surrounded by artists again, I've yearned to connect more deeply with those in my circles through their work, to live a life again marked by mutually-inspirational dialogues.
three years ago, my intention to become a game developer again was out of a need for a career path and a lack of better options. for one reason and another, my life became one ruled by pragmatic cynicism. but deep in my heart I yearned to dream again. becoming a game developer again and seeking company for it was, in a very real way, a cry for help. I yearned to reclaim the things I once had as the person I now am, and... well, it happened.
it's not a complicated thing, but it required me going on a journey in order to fully arrive to it, as so much often goes. and it's not only thanks to me, but also to all the wonderful people I met who together pulled me out of those depths and brought me home.
from my childhood, so much of my life has been marked by ambition- that kind of "become an engineer" or "indie game the movie" ambition. on some level I enjoy it, but there's a common darkness to that kind of drive too, which always existed in conflict inside me with other aspects of my creative self. I'm still working it out, but right now, what I feel is that I might prefer to say I'm a person who loves trying hard and putting all of myself into everything I do.
I'm also someone who wants to add something to the world, but it's hard to decide for myself what it is I'm adding to it without risking going down a dark path either--it's just not for me to decide what that is. rather, it seems, my only option is to forget about the "outcome" of my work and focus instead on putting out what's in my heart. and then I can reflect on how the world responds to it, and ask myself if that's something I can continue giving to others. this blog has been one of those things.
"what's in my heart" has been a big question for me about what I create, especially at this big transitional point in my life. why do I make games? do I even want to, or have I done so out of habit? I've needed to ask myself these questions. like before, I'm finding the answers in those around me.
ocean oi
ocean oi is my first game by sraëka lillian. in my own words, I might call it a minimalist exploration of resource management and encounter design.
the rest of this section will contain spoilers for the game.
the narrative framing is of a voyage at sea, which gives foundation to its structure: prepare, battle, prepare! to me it felt like the texture of a dungeon crawler, and particularly reminiscent of Etrian Odyssey 3. each battle is a bespoke exploration of some property of the enemies and the party and how they interweave together. the game is straightforward and friendly, yet subtly invites you to study and break it much like Etrian Odyssey too.
it gave me a familiar and satisfying tingle to discover that ron's mandate skill gives you effectively unlimited NU (the game's MP). once you do, the strategy dynamic shifts from resource collection and attrition to protecting ron and restoring that engine whenever it becomes disrupted.
in this way, it felt like ocean oi had two games inside of it at once, and all the changes in-between is your intimacy with the systems. typically in RPGs, and especially in dungeon crawlers, this experience exists but is also layered with progression systems, such as learning a new skill that will trivialize the current dungeon. here there's only that experience of exploring what's already there, and I found that wonderful.
ocean oi had me tense and on the edge of my seat, especially during its two climactic encounters, reaching the heights of any classic rpg I've played. the numbers and math are tuned thoughtfully to the rhythms and cadences that make rpg battles exciting, and the gentle touch of oceanic narrative framing lets the experience feel full and engrossing while retaining its minimalism. I might call this game just as much an exploration of tension in rpgs, and how all the elements of narrative, visuals, sound and systems can complement one another to create it.
in sraëka's words however, this game is a study. that term stayed with me the whole time I played it, spreading its roots through me until I realized what could be the heart of sraëka's works: a humble adoration and respect for RPGs and all that they are.
ocean oi didn't feel to me like the kind of art that was about the author per se, but more like a mathematical proof or a scientific paper with a personal touch. it's about something that exists outside of just the creator and the audience, it's about understanding and loving RPGs as a medium. the focus was there rather than on the work itself, or I, or the creator.
I can't say I've experienced much like this before, but if it's any indication of sraëka's usual body of work, I have a feeling experiencing more of it will continue being revelatory for me.
I get a similar, though more layered experience when playing analgesic production's games. when I played even the ocean in 2023 it was the seed that awoke something inside me and made me want to devote my heart to making games again. it awoke me again to those buried feelings of adoration and respect for the craft of videogames, and to connect with others over that love.
the answer to "why I make videogames" is simply that I love them! I love them in all their depths the same way I love a dear friend, where I want to know everything about them and celebrate them through all their joys and struggles. I might only really be capable of making games as an expression of these sorts of love, such as I did with esper//exile, out of time, and 2025 blaster. studying, admiring, immersing myself in everything videogames are and always have been, loving their history and loving the people who make them.
I love to experience the things people can achieve when they push each other together to the heights of their craft. but what I've lacked this whole time is that kind of immersion with artists who share my ideals. but now, as I'm playing these games by the likes of sraëka and many others who I hope to call my peers, I'm seeing a vision of a future where I can dedicate myself to a love for the craft of games and to those who make them.
where I used to feel ambition I now feel humility. to be surrounded by so many brilliant creative peers I hardly feel I can compare myself against, I find freedom now in having a goal that exists outside myself.
