| First appearance: Greek mythology First video game appearance: Castlevania (Konami, NES, 1986) M.O.: Mathematically regulated movement; Statuary sculpting; Knocking you off that little moving platform you just jumped onto |
| Profile by Marc Host? | April 5, 2011 |
Do you have any idea, I mean any idea, what a pain in the neck this job is? And I’m not being cute about that either. “Go rough him up or something,” he tells the werewolves. “Wander up and down the hallway aimlessly, occasionally tossing bits of your vital being in a wide arc,” he tells the skeletons, and okay that actually sounds like a pretty bad gig too now that I say it.
But I was a boss, for Vlad’s sake. Not just once, but several times! And yet every freaking time a Belmont shows up, I get that look that just says “you know what to do”. And what do I know to do? To stick my neck on the freaking chopping block, that’s what.
He’s got some kind of, I don’t know, undead clone of Perseus he found in Greeclevania back in his bohemian days, and let me tell you there is no conversation with that guy. It’s just “unnngh” and then CHOP, and I get to watch my own head fly into the freaking time machine all over again. Don’t ask me how he got a time machine, or why it’s in a bucket on the floor under my own personal guillotine, but there it is every single time. I asked the boss about it once and he just said he knew a guy.
And then things always go exactly the same way. I’m drifting along through time and space, barely able to stop gritting my teeth over how much being decapitated smarts, and then I end up trying to focus, you know, take my mind off of things. Time travelling is pretty cool, I think, and then I start thinking about time in general, and then that always ends up sending my noggin absolutely screaming into the middle of the clock tower.
This wouldn’t be so bad if my ears were freaking wings, maybe, but no, sending bats to the belfry is always more important. So there I am just absolutely plummeting downward and at this point I can’t even worry about what might be ahead of me because I have to focus on pulling up right there and then.
And I manage it every time, but let me tell you it never gets any less harrowing. A second or two later, whatever willpower I have found wanes, and I just start falling all over again. Rinse, repeat.
And the worst part about it? Not when I smack into another freaking Belmont spinning around on the gears in the tower, that part’s actually kinda fun. But while I’m desperately trying not to fall all the way down to the bottom to find out what happens when a melon drops that distance, I can see myself doing the exact same thing all over the place at the exact same time. Freakin’ time machines, man.
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