Cerise Magazine

By Robyn Fleming

One of the things I was most excited about when I got married was that I was going to get a chance to wear a tiara. And not just any tiara, but one created specially for me by my good friend (and awesome artist) Rachel Edidin [Editor's note: See Rachel's "Craft Check: Make Your Own Tiara," in this issue]. When the package from Rachel arrived, I ripped it open in a fever of excitement and, making high-pitched noises of glee, immediately tried on my shiny new crown. And then I photographed it, uploaded the photo, and made a post in my LiveJournal titled “I AM A PRINCESS.”

My wedding accessory was not my first crown. Another favorite head-ornament of mine is a circlet-like creation of fine chainmail, of the type available for sale at renaissance faires everywhere. The circlet consists of a band of mail that goes across my forehead and several thin chains that loop down on the sides, draping over my ears and hair. There’s a sparkly blue pendant on the front that rests between and slightly above my brows. When I wear it, I feel like some kind of elven princess.

I also have a weird headdress made of leather (another ren faire find) that looks like a cross between a helmet and a crown. Warrior princess? You betcha.

I’ve enjoyed my share of elaborate fantasy gowns, too. My wedding dress had floor-length sleeves. My dress-up box when I was a child was stuffed to the brim with satin and lace. But despite my enduring love of princessy accoutrements, I’ve never been attracted to the idea of playing a princess in any of the many RPGs I’ve participated in over the years. I played a noblewoman once, but I’m much more likely to pick scrappy fighter types – characters a little bit more like, well, me.

I’m not in the line of succession for any crown, which is a crucial factor in true princess-hood, but I’m not even a good candidate for the non-royal type of princess. I’m not tall and willowy. I don’t have a porcelain-like complexion; my skin is rough with calluses and is covered with bruises and scratches more often than not. I’m only as graceful as I am because I’ve been doing martial arts since I was six. And I still bump into tables and other furniture with painful regularity. My voice is husky rather than bell-like.

Of course, in a fantasy RPG, none of that matters. So why haven’t I taken advantage of the opportunity to be anyone, and used it to play a character who can fit the princess role in every way?

I guess I’ve just never really wanted to.

I like to read stories and watch movies featuring princess characters now and then – both the classic, delicate and lovely kind and the resourceful, tough ones – but for myself the attraction is all about the accessories. After all, I can be my stocky, coarse, pugnacious self and still wear the occasional sparkly tiara. And if I can have the cool stuff, why would I want anything else?

Article © February 2008 by Robyn Fleming.

“Scars of Time”

To me, those three words symbolize the start of a serious gaming career. Sure I’ve played games all my life, ever since my older brother got a Nintendo Entertainment System with a copy of Super Mario Bros./Duckhunt and the original Castlevania for Christmas when I was five, but I never really considered it to be a hobby of mine. I wasn’t even very good at games so, more often than not, I was content to just watch him play. (more…)

I first played Dance Dance Revolution at a party. I’m not sure which mix of DDR we played, however I am fairly certain it was a Japanese import which we played on a modified PlayStation 2. I was quite hesitant to try the game surrounded by so many people – there were about 20 people in the room watching. The level of skill ranged from absolute beginners like myself to people who could play on Heavy/Expert with ease. After some prodding and cajoling from my peers, I took a turn on the dance mats. If I remember correctly, the dance mats were poor in quality and slipped around with regularity. Regardless of the state of the input device, I naturally failed the song. In fact, I didn’t even get halfway through before failing. Failing in front of that many people, despite the fact that they were good-natured and supportive, was still embarrassing. After my turn, I refused to have another go. (more…)

This time last year, I had never received a review copy of anything. I had never been invited to participate in an online debate. My connection to the gaming industry was strictly that of a casual consumer – I bought sourcebooks and dice with fair regularity, miniatures every now and then and a computer game whenever one particularly caught my eye. And then Andrea Rubenstein and I stayed up way too late one night venting our gaming culture frustrations at each other over an instant messaging program, the idea for this magazine was born, and everything rapidly became very different.

All of a sudden, I’m an editor of and frequent contributor to a gaming magazine. Whoa.
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I don’t identify myself as a gamer, or at least it’s not how I’d describe myself, but I’ve been playing games on computers since I could reach the keyboard. Frogger, Pitfall, various games where the map was represented by the surplus ASCII characters, text based adventures–I dipped my toes in everything. I’m fairly certain that the first game I ever played where I got to choose my avatar was King’s Bounty. It had a barbarian, a knight, a paladin, and a sorceress. The game-play guide recommended that new players start with the knight (I seem to remember) and, the perennial newb, I did. I never graduated from the knight. I never finished the game. But I never felt the least curiosity about the sorceress.
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When I was sixteen, as many teenagers tend to do, I went through some hard times. Instead of getting high, cutting, or binging and purging, like some of my contemporaries might, my gamer identity helped me indulge in a kind of self-destructive behavior that was on no therapist’s radar. I escaped the angst of my real life through an addiction to a popular video game music website’s message board.
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By Latoya Peterson

He stood proud, tall, and defiant.

He had a tattoo.

He was a mass of muscle and attitude.

He was Jin Kazama, my first game crush.

It started off innocently at first. It was 1998, I was fifteen years old, and I had just popped Tekken 3 into the Playstation, looking forwarded to the newest installment of my favorite fighting series. To my surprise, a hottie lay before me. While I was slightly skeeved out at the fact that Jun Kazama and Kazuya Mishima had gotten it on (why Jun, why!?!?!), I had to admit that their progeny was easy on the eyes.

And the best of both worlds.

Jin quickly became my favorite character to use. Nina Williams lay forgotten, gathering dust in a corner of the game. (We had shoe differences anyway.) I mastered his Rainbow Kick in the game and tried in vain to manage the move in real life. I scoured stores for anything resembling the bad-ass flame-up-one-side drawstring sweats which were his trademark. I was bordering on obsession.

However, the obsession was a silent one - there was no way that I could proclaim my love for Jin Kazama. My friends had posters torn out of the latest issues of Word Up or Sister2Sister or erected ceiling shrines of dead rock stars from posters bought at places like Spencers. How was I going to put up a man made of pixels?

Around this time, I also fell for Eddy Gordo. Always my second choice, I loved his difficult to control capoeira moves and watching him rep for the brown people. Still, while I normally go for guys who look like Eddy in real life, in the game he still came second to Jin Kazama.

At sixteen, I found myself nursing two major game crushes.

While I secretly held a candle for them both in my heart, my love manifested in an usually high interest in kickboxing, boxing, and watching UFC and capoeira battles online.

A little time passed and I thought my game crushes were flashes in the pan.

Then I discovered RPGS.

Oh, Yuri.

How often did I miss crucial parts of the cut scenes because I was gazing at your beautifully rendered face?

While there were many others you, Yuri, hold a place in my heart.

If for no other reason that for your impeccably animated hair, which had its own personality and set of movements.

All my game girl crushes aren’t as sweet.

One of them I alternately love and fear:

Sephiroth. How I loathe you. Your appearence can literally ruin my gaming day. And what was with that stealth mess you pulled in Kingdom Hearts? Must you stalk me from game to game?

And yet, somehow, I just can’t quit you…

Keep brooding baby. It looks good on you.

And then there’s Roxas.

My favorite little mystery. Unfortunately, I feel like an old pervert. What age are you supposed to be - fourteen? I can’t even entertain a lusty thought without cringing. And you aren’t even real!

Still, there may be hope for me yet.

If that is you, my little KH2 cutie, you grew up well.

Too bad about the whole frozen-and-pummeled-to-death-after-being-thrown-from-a-cliff-thing. Ah well, it would have never worked anyway.

I never had a girl crush in a game, but a few women did come close.

Her outfits were questionable - yet she always made them look cool.

Her hair must require a prodigious amount of product.

And she is the strong, silent type. I covet her permanent “shall I kick your ass now?” aura.

Princess Zelda is not playing around. Unlike some other slacker princesses who prefer to sit around and send out press releases, you get right into the action. Even when you had amnesia, you were useful and central to the plot. Zelda, you are indeed the original ride-or-die chick.

That’s all for now. I’m sure that once I get through my backlog of PS2 games, there will be a few I’ll need to add.

Or maybe my next love is a next gen console away…

Article © November 2007 by Latoya Peterson.

By Andrea Rubenstein

It was with much sadness that I learned that one of my favorite board games of all times, Betrayal at House on the Hill was being discontinued. I don’t own this game myself, but it was an important part of the gaming nights that I used to have with my cousin and our friends. The gameplay was clunky sometimes, and it was really frustrating when you bit the dust, but what kept me coming back again and again was that, after a long night of playing with the lights dimmed, I would go back to my apartment and wonder why I had ever thought living alone was a good idea.

Now, when people think of board games, usually Monopoly or Risk come to mind. But for hardcore board gamers, like my friends and I were, there was so much more to it than that. Settlers of Catan, with its many expansion packs, was a staple. So was Carcassonne, until one of my fights with a friend over sheeped land almost came to blows. Betrayal at House on the Hill didn’t have the staying power of the other two, though, and I was probably the only one in the group who loved it so much. The others just didn’t understand that, for me, it was like playing a simple version of a one-night horror-themed campaign.

You see, while the object of the game was to first explore the house and then get the hell out, the story would change every time depending on the cards that turned up during the first phase. Each time everyone started out as friends and each time a random person would become the betrayer and would fight to kill everyone before they could escape. Zombies, werewolves, carnivorous plants, blobs of goo that absorbed everything in their path… the story possibilities seemed endless. Having multiple players involved, as well as the possibility that you would become the enemy, gave it something that I just can’t get out of survival horror video games.

So, what’s so scary about a board game? Everything, when it’s done right. While I find myself bidding a sad farewell to a game that gave me many nights of frights and fun, I can only hope that more game publishers in the future find the value in horror-themed board games like House.

Article © October 2007 by Andrea Rubenstein.

I’ve got a confession to make. I really like Resident Evil, but I’ve never played a single game in the series. I can’t. I’m too scared.

It all started when I was in sixth grade. I came home from trick-or-treating on Halloween and someone had popped in a VHS copy of the original Night of the Living Dead. It started out tame enough, but as the zombies began to crowd around the house with people trapped inside, I freaked. I was so frightened that I couldn’t even watch the whole movie; I ran back into my room and hid in the closet. But what I did see was enough to scar me: zombies have been my greatest fear ever since. That slow, shuffling pace–sure you can outrun it, but it’ll never stop. They just keep coming. You can’t reason with zombies. Nothing you say is going to stop them from trying to eat you. And that vacant, bloody gaze….*shivers* Yup, zombies are the worst. (more…)

I’ve got thirty minutes before I need to be at the movie theatre for a class assignment. I’m rushing, but I stop dead in my tracks when I come upon the glow of a Gamestop shop window. I hardly ever find myself near one so, at the risk of being late, I go in. I walk past the displays and the guy behind the counter to the shelf of used PS2 games because of her face. Heather from Silent Hill 3 is staring at me with a pair of gorgeous, nervous eyes. I buy it and make it to the theatre with five minutes to spare. (more…)