Before this project, I loved Pokémon for its nostalgia but felt its stories lacked complexity beyond the journey of becoming Champion. Designing an interactive fiction game was an opportunity to push the boundaries of what Pokémon narratives could explore, introducing moral ambiguity and giving players choices that mattered.
The process was both challenging and rewarding. Early on, the game felt linear, and playtesters noted the lack of meaningful choices. I reworked the mechanics to include branching paths and a battle system based on type effectiveness, where selecting the right Pokémon was critical to advancing. Balancing accessibility for non-Pokémon players with depth for seasoned fans required adding a type-effectiveness chart and detailed hints at the Pokémon Center. This not only improved gameplay but also made the story accessible to a wider audience.
One thing I wanted to do but couldn’t figure out was how to add music. I had identified all the nostalgic tracks I wanted to use for each passage on Twine, believing they would add tone and immerse players further in the Pokémon world. It was disappointing to leave this element out, as I think it could have elevated the game’s atmosphere significantly. This remains an area I’d like to explore in future projects.
Creating meaningful endings was another focus. Players could align with Professor Oak, exposing Team Rocket, or side with Giovanni, questioning the entire system. I wanted each path to feel distinct, with real consequences for player choices. For example, the battle for Mewtwo had a finality that made success or failure impactful. Watching playtesters grapple with these decisions was especially gratifying—it showed that the game encouraged them to think critically about the story.
I both underestimated and overestimated what it takes to build a video game. On one hand, the process wasn’t as enigmatic as I initially thought, and with effort, I believe anyone can create something compelling. On the other hand, I came to appreciate how much thought and detail go into even minor elements—options, backstory, flow, and effects all need to work cohesively for the game to feel immersive and coherent.
Scripting the dialogue and events was one of the most enjoyable parts of the project. While I consciously kept this game brief, I found the format amazing for telling stories. It has inspired me to create more interactive fiction games over the next few years, exploring new themes and narratives in a way that engages players deeply.
One unexpected learning was how small dialogue changes could enhance the narrative. Refining Giovanni and Professor Oak’s conversations added depth to their motivations, making players question their own alignment. This nuance elevated the game from a simple story to one where players had to decide whom to trust and why.
This experience taught me the importance of iteration and feedback in game design. Each version of the game—from linear storytelling to branching narratives—helped me better understand how to balance mechanics and narrative. Moving forward, I’m inspired to continue exploring how games can tell stories that are both engaging and thought-provoking.
