Splatoon and Moving On

This blog post is dedicated to the children's game that has shaped my creativity in ways no other game has before.

With the anticipated - yet somewhat dreaded - release of the "Splatoon Raiders" spin-off game coming sometime in the future, and a single post on TikTok reminding me of the melodious and earworming soundtrack the game series has to offer, I recently revisited the Splatoon series as a whole. This series, as I've seen with the public, tends to bear the sharp end of criticisms from people outside the niche circle; some points I wholeheartedly agree with. 

I can agree to an extent that many people in the Splatoon circle/fanbase, contrary to the main message of the series, maintain mindsets that are deeply rooted in discriminatory, oppressive practices. Sexism, homophobia, and racism are issues that I feel are strongly present in certain spaces within the fandom. Although the majority of fans are on the tolerant-to-supportive side, bad apples can often spoil one's experience of interacting with others.
A few personal anecdotes and unfortunate encounters have also tainted my own opinion of others within the community. Still, I'm glad to have met a few close companions through this game. Had I not ever been interested in putting myself out there in the Splatoon space, I would not have the friends nor the personality that I have today. I can also agree that one's experience with the game itself can be marred by not owning the Switch's online service, which provides access to the main attraction: public matching. Casual and ranked online matches are one of the few mainstays of Splatoon as a game, and without them, you are cut off from the majority of what draws so many into the series.
This argument is often countered with the rebuttal that the offline story mode and the DLCs provide enough entertainment and content to sustain one's interest in the series; however, I respectfully disagree. 

I'd say more, but the points I make would merely be mirrored arguments that many others have made before, and I don't wish to turn this blog entry into a game review instead of what I had originally intended it to be. Because, in spite of my more critical observations, my outlook on the game series as a whole is riddled with fondness for the series and what it has to say in our current social and political climate that would have otherwise disagreed with its stances. Splatoon's central themes have always focused on the concept of free self-expression, presentation and acceptance. This is a world in which you are allowed -encouraged even- to dress and play in the way that you wish to, whenever you wish to. Connect these ideas with its in-universe racism, and it makes for a surprisingly eye-opening commentary about accepting others' differences (from fashion to ethnic backgrounds) for those coming in with the bare-bones idea of Splatoon that is "you play as a silly squid-kid with other silly squid-kids". 

It's not exactly subtle with its messaging, but it's not consistently explicit with its allusions either. It's easy to draw the parallels when you catch them; sometimes it's so in your face that you have to acknowledge the story's stance on prejudice built on the historic systems that current society remains standing on. With the most recent addition of the third Splatoon game, it drove that concept even further. I recall that when Splatoon 3 was announced, it received mixed reviews and expectations for how it would improve upon the second game in the series. There were numerous predictions about how the story mode would unfold and who the new idols would be. 
Many were excited about the new battle mechanics and weapons, while others were adamant that this would render powerful strategies previously used in the prior games obsolete. Many were quick to adore the new idols, and many were quick to loathe their placement as the new idols, just as they had for Splatoon 2's new idol pair. 

The community was mixed, but these signs indicated that change was imminent. It was bound to happen, and Splatoon was never more eager to shove it in your face. I won't discuss the story mode's ending or anything pertaining to the Side Order DLC; this is out of respect for anyone willing to witness the game's story for themselves, whether they play it or watch someone else's gameplay. 

In my mind, nostalgia is not always a good thing. Nostalgia warmly interlocks its fingers with yours, kisses lingering on your cheek from its familiar lips. The scent of nostalgia is one you'll always miss yet never have for long. Its call to familiarity is comforting, yet it obscures the sight of progression until the future is no longer in reach, until you find yourself in a monotonous cycle. As long as you're happy, you stay in the same place you've yearned for. 
Change is cold and heartless. It drags you out of what you're accustomed to, and it doesn't care whether or not you are able to adapt. It twists your body uncomfortably, your gut wrenching and your thoughts blurring at its harsh touch. Pain becomes a constant until you become used to it, until you realize you've grown strong enough to bear the pain. Only then does change release you from its grip and acknowledge that you were always enough. 
Acceptance is that exhale that follows afterwards. The pain is no longer present, and serenity courses through your muscle lining. Change is a painful thing, but the person you were before couldn't have felt the calm you feel now. 

Splatoon 3 acknowledges its growing audience, and it can only offer one message: Move on with acceptance. The game gives you change, and it guides you towards that eventual exhale... but only if you want to seek it.
The game was a pleasant surprise for someone like me, who had been dealing with significant, painful life changes at the time, and it provided just enough time to soon accept that my life would never lead me back to the place my heart once called 'home'. It didn't do so much as distract me from my troubles, but playing the game gave me a path and an outlet to explore where I wanted to go after the aching feeling of loss weakened me out of my armored mentality.

These days, I don't play Splatoon much anymore, if at all. I believe the last time I played was around a year ago, some time after the Side Order DLC was released. If I were to come back, though, I'm sure I'd still love playing. However, the times of obsessively queuing for another match until 3 AM and getting overly passionate about match losses and incompetent teammates are long gone, and I'd like to thank Splatoon 3 for giving me that push I needed to move on with my life. I hope that I'm a better, more mature person than I was before. 

Sometimes I feel as if I'm still stuck in the same place as I was 5 years ago, as an artist, a person, and/or a friend. Sometimes it feels as if I'm never going to leave a cycle I'm unaware of, and sometimes it feels like I don't know what's holding me back from taking change by the hand. 

Sometimes I look back, look at the objective facts and the records of who I used to be. 

I turn my head back and realize that I don't recognize that person anymore. 

Finally, my chest slowly puffs, and I exhale.