Principles of Animation

Frankie panicked as the tiny little Bozo soon picked up her little stick figure and threw him across the ring.

She noticed a few things then: firstly, the game could animate your character itself. She didn’t need to imagine her fighter fly through the air and slam against the ropes, he just did. Her job was just controlling him to move and attack when he was actually in control of where he was going.

She managed to take a few steps, picturing it awkwardly flipping forward, but Bozo was already headed straight back towards her, sending himself off the ropes that seemed to react to his weight and even propel him forward.

The strike he landed on her fighter then seemed stronger than his last, crushing the poor stickman where he stood. The momentum actually appeared to effect it, as his charge became a crushing blow.

She struggled against him, but her hits did nothing. Maybe it was because her design was so brainless, but it couldn’t do hardly anything against the brute. The doodle’s fists popped back and forth, but no damage was dealt.

Then Mini-Bozo raised his right fist up high, only slamming it down after a few moments of anticipation. It hit her figure so hard that he flew underneath Bozo’s legs and slid a few feet behind him.

Asshole… Now I get it…

Frankie finally realized- not only was there an abstract rule like detail pertaining over the fight, but every single principle of animation seemed to play a huge part in determining the victor. By making use of literal anticipation frames, winding up his attacks as if they were real, Bozo was able to create an effective strike, and he was easing in and out of it to make it even more believable. As far as she could tell, these made up the core foundation on which the game was intended to be played.

Kidney, you tricky bastard.

Growing used to picturing it, Frankie started shaping frame after frame of her creation, making use of its lightweight design to have it run all around the arena in a way Bozo’s champion couldn’t. When he was off-guard, she reeled up a kick right next to his head, and let it crack.

“Take that, dumbass!”

Bozo chuckled. His fighter shook, but he did not crumble. He scooped the stickman up in his arms and flipped his head towards the ground.

“No-!”

The piledriver turned her stick figure into a crumpled spider. At last Frankie spotted the floating bars on the side of the field she’d previously assumed to be little more than part of the arena- endurance meters for each character, and hers was already at 62%.

Bozo was at 99.