An Epic Argument
What’s in a name? You’d be surprised.
Every Friday morning our team sits down to discuss the week’s successes, failures, and general off topic nonsense. While normally a relaxed discussion and check in, last Friday it turned into a hot-tempered argument over something so little but important we couldn’t let it go.
In Influence there are three modes of play: one is the original mode, where you customize the settings and then spring into a plane devoid of obstacles or alternative objectives or advanced id types. The only goal is to gain consensus. It is a small, self-contained, 1-5 minute experience. The second mode is structured around a series of pre-designed planes and tiers that the player can move through at their own pace, unlocking new id types to use as they overtake planes. The third mode is very similar to the first, except that you can network with other players instead of just having AI adversaries.
Single Player – Campaign – Multiplayer
We had to think of names for these three modes. We started with the bland, default “Single Player, Campaign, Multiplayer”. There was confusion over the difference between Single Player and Campaign, and we couldn’t change Single Player to Skirmish because that was too indicative of military undertones. Even Campaign had the same issue. On top of that, it didn’t relate to Influence’s world at all. Influence purposely removed itself from a multitude of “arcade” terminology – levels, worlds, points, experience etc because it didn’t want to associate with that style of gaming. Influence was something different. Conflict took a back seat to the meditative world, the flow and zen of the ids in the bleak.
Solo – Melody – Harmony
What about something with music? We tried “Melody” for campaign and “Harmony” for multiplayer, but then what about the single player game? Solo and Tutti could have worked, and so could a multitude of other ‘pairs’ that break down linguistically to “one” and “many” in regards to some theme. But it was always pairs – never a trio. We considered adding on something like “Practice” or “Training” to represent the singleplayer mode, but that trivialized what we thought was the core experience. The single words just weren’t going to work.
Dream Free – Explore Alone – Play Together
I changed the names to “Dream Free, Explore Alone, and Play Together”. The team rightfully argued that these were too vague or abstract, so we looked at how they appear on the title screen. Dream mode is not unlocked until a player completes the tutorial planes, so the first thing on the menu screen is just “Explore Alone” and “Play Together”. This does its job, I argued, of immediately distinguishing between a game you play by yourself, or one you play with others. The first choice you make is always just singleplayer or multiplayer. It accomplished that, and it did so quite clearly. You weren’t going to mistake one for the other. Explore also indicated a sense of discovery that we thought linked well to a campaign-like mode, while Play indicated the lighter, briefer mechanics of the multiplayer mode.
Daydream – Explore Alone – Play Together
From there, the issue was the singleplayer mode, the ‘tidepool’ as I’d been calling for some time where players simply customize a plane and run with it. “Dream Free” didn’t work – too abstract. But “Dream” didn’t seem to fit either; it was both cliche and inundated with psychological implications. Melissa suggested “Daydream” – it was similar, it indicated a brevity, a lightness, and a playfulness that we wanted, but unlike Dream it indicated a higher sense of awareness. It took us well over an hour of frustrated discussion, so when we hit daydream everyone crumpled with relief. That was it.
Our lesson: names are important. They are the framework and lens through which the player views a game. Even subtle changes can make a huge difference on how players perceive your game and the emotions it creates in them. Don’t always accept the default. Actively consider how changes will affect a player. Balance utility and novelty. Think.