Category Archives: thought exercise

VTubing and the Dancer’s Conundrum

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With the 3D debut of hololive’s ReGLOSS, we have the arrival of another fantastic VTuber dancer. Todoroki Hajime might very well be the best yet, her experience as a professional backup dancer coming through loud and clear. She’s mentioned her love of dance since day one, and other talents have praised her abilities along the way, so there was a good deal of anticipation for Hajime in 3D.

It was well worth the wait, but I have to think about the fact that the wait happens in the first place. Being a VTuber known for dancing comes at an inherent disadvantage.

Almost all VTubers these days begin with 2D models; it’s the faster and more economical option compared to 3D. The drawback to this approach is that movement is much more limited. Certain skills are not really affected by this—singing, chatting, and gaming all work similarly to what non-virtual streamers do. 

However, dancers cannot show their strength at the start. They require a 3D model plus more advanced motion tracking, as well as literal space they can move comfortably in. For indie VTubers, this can be a very tall order, with the technology being very expensive. Even in a more established company, talents rarely get them any time soon. hololive, arguably the best place for virtual dancing, still has a typical lead time of around 7–12 months, with Hakos Baelz especially delayed (18 months!) due to restricted travel to Japan resulting from the COVID-19 pandemic. Brave Corporation—owners of VSPO, V4Mirai, and more recently IDOL Corp—often have the shortest lag time, but even that is measured in months. The early period starting from debut is a vital time to make an impact and establish one’s image, and a reputation for dance is harder to include when the audience can’t see it.

After these dancers (or any other very physical performers) show the world what they’re capable of, they still face hurdles. Namely, they often simply cannot dance as frequently as others engage in other methods of performances. For hololive, proximity to their studio in Japan is a major factor—those living overseas have to invest a lot to even be there, and if anyone wants to dance more often, they basically have to stay in Japan. I have to suspect that this has been a factor in both Bae’s, hololive English’s Koseki Bijou, and hololive Indonesia’s Vestia Zeta’s decisions to move to Japan. And even after that, they have to deal with well-known scheduling issues when it comes to booking studio time. Other companies have to rent out dedicated spaces that specialize in 3D motion capture.

Even in a stream to stream comparison, dancers have it tough. A karaoke session can go for hours, bringing attention and even money through viewer donations. Dancing, in contrast, is much more physically demanding while also having to deal with cumbersome and costly equipment.

The upside of being a dancer is that one does finally get the chance, it makes a hell of an impact. There is probably nothing that shows off better the concept of a VTuber as a bridge between the real and the virtual. Hajime’s debut performance of “Bandage” has done incredibly well, with her clipped VOD (see above) already close to 2 million views. I have zero doubt that she’ll get some of the loudest cheers when she appears at the annual holo fes concerts.

There’s definitely value to building up hype over many months for a 3D debut, and wowing viewers with an incredible choreography and sheer ability. At the same time, though, it does give those who shine brightest through their footwork and movement something of a slow start. While I know it isn’t realistic, I do wonder how things would be if VTubers could stream dancing on a whim, or at least as easily as they could do anything else. 

My Challenges Writing About VTubers (It’s Not Just About VTubers)

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I’ve been struggling a bit with the blog lately.

I decided to re-read some of my posts from the last year or so, and I noticed that my writing has been lacking in certain areas. In particular, I think I could do a better job with VTubers, and that what I write can sound a bit too uncritical. There’s nothing inherently wrong with saying “I liked this,” but it’s not being executed well.

A few months ago, Youtuber Dan Olsen released a new video essay called “I Don’t Know James Rolfe.” It’s difficult to describe succinctly, but it’s essentially a look at how Rolfe, aka the Angry Video Game Nerd, occupies a position where people project onto him their desires for what a veteran internet celebrity should be. The essay is also introspective, as Olsen struggles with the fact that Rolfe the creator seems to be both an ingenious pioneer of online media and someone whose knowledge of the filmmaking process is a little half-baked, only for Olsen to point the lens at himself and reveal his own insecurities about not being a “real filmmaker either.”

I watched AVGN almost from the start. I remember visiting the Cinemassacre site over the more unreliable YouTube of the late 2000s. One of my most popular posts ever was finding a reference cameo of him in an anime. For years, I kept up with every release and update, so I am very familiar with the character. But the video is less about the biography of Rolfe and more designed for the viewer to bring themselves into it. And in this instance, I had my baggage in tow: my concerns over where I am as a writer, the difficulty of writing about creative people in a world increasingly full of extreme opinions, and a growing concern for media literacy. As a blogger for over 16 years now, I feel a connection to Olsen and Rolfe as creators, but also to Olsen and Rolfe’s followers as commentators.

To put it differently, I realized that I’m walking on eggshells a bit when it comes to VTuber commentary, and it’s because, like Rolfe, their fans and anti-fans can be rather intense. You go from effusive praise to just toxic hatred that veers into both misogyny and misanthropy via bizarre conspiracy theories. If I want to do a comparison or say something came across as weaker than I expected, I don’t want to give ammo to the caustic haters even if it only amounts to a single tossed pebble (and not the fun Biboo kind) in the grand scheme of things. The parasocial aspect is even stronger with VTubers, and it can be worrying, even if I think there are lot of positive aspects to that community.

Adding to all that is a constant worry that I’m stagnating as a writer, that I overly rely on the same basic structures and phrases. I definitely think I’ve improved in some respects over the years, but I’ve never dedicated myself to improving this as a craft, and I think it shows. And because VTubers are such a new topic, I feel myself under-equipped to discuss them, especially compared with how much I’ve dedicated my time to anime and manga. 

I think I just want a space where discussion of VTubers (or any other topic) can be somewhere in the middle between the two extremes of obsessive love and all-consuming hate.

Fear and Loathing, and That’s It

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September 11 is a day that always makes me just a bit more introspective. Sometimes I express it on this blog and sometimes I approach things more lightly—it’s really all about my mood in the moment. But given that we have another US presidential election in a couple months being preceded by a whole host of changes, it’s been making me think about how powerful fear is. 

In the face of danger to your very way of life, either real or perceived, what extremes might a person be willing to go in order to deal with those negative emotions? How many people find themselves ready to throw others under the bus in times of desperation? And how many are all too willing to do so and just need an excuse? Why do we get scared of foreigners or the poor because of the possibility of petty and violent crimes, while scammers in nice suits pick our pockets under the guise of the law? And why is it so very easy to become cynical and jaded to the point of stasis and inaction, or to eagerly conflate justice with vengeance?

As frustrating as all this can be, I think I need to remember that we’re all human, and I don’t mean that in any lofty sense. Humans are both simple and complicated, and we really don’t know what anyone will do when push comes to shove. I can think all I want that I would do the right thing, but maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’m not. And perhaps past generations are perpetuating what worked in the past, only they’re introducing a whole lot of generational trauma in the process.

I think my wish is that whether it’s the tragedies of the past and the present, terrible actions do not instill in us the desire to take away someone’s inherent personhood—as if we’re just waiting for a group of people to do something bad so that we can paint their entire group with one brush. Criticism is important. Protest is vital. Even anger should not be smothered out just because it’s a negative emotion. But I just want people to start from the position that humanity is not a zero-sum game.

I Want a Jet Alone Isekai

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I’ve come to realize that I like isekai spin-offs that are about giving lesser characters another chance. After all, they’ve got the skills, and are often just overshadowed by the heroes. It’s why the Fist of the North Star Amiba spin-off is so enjoyable—it takes a relatively minor and seemingly irredeemable villain and gives them a new world that they can help, but can also handle their shit.

That’s why, if ever they made an Evangelion isekai, I would want to see one made about Jet Alone.

Technically, Jet Alone isn’t even a character. It’s a radio-controlled, nuclear-powered giant robot that is meant to supplant the Evangelions before it goes haywire and has to be stopped. Ultimately, this turns out to be a scheme by the EVAs’ own organization, NERV, to remove competition. 

Jet Alone could’ve been helpful in protecting the planet, but just never got the chance. But what if the robot were transported to another world and got to be its defender? You could even have someone controlling it remotely like Shoutarou in Tetsujin 28, fighting giant monsters or solving crimes or whatever. 

Any number of settings could work: a magical world that contrasts with the technological Jet Alone, an alien invasion of a different kind, maybe even some mega-sized martial arts tournament. 

In another time, I might have been more compelled to turn this into a fanfic. Never say never, I guess.

PS: I happened to find this animation by KGBlagden featuring Jet Alone to the tune of Jet Jaguar’s theme in Godzilla. In a smilar vein, it gives some props to a mecha so unceremoniously squashed.

Deku and a Culture in Conflict: The End of My Hero Academia

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My Hero Academia by Horikoshi Kohei is a manga that has stood out thanks to its gorgeous art, variety of memorable characters, and exploration on what it means to “do good” and “be a hero.” It ties together the popular genre of the shounen battle manga with the classic American trope of the superhero, and provides a simple but profound setup that evokes the best of both. Now, after 10 years, the series has concluded, and the reception to its ending seems to be rather mixed. While that is likely a case of “the loudest voices” in online discussion, it’s also a reflection of how MHA has long attracted a variety of readers with values that conflict a great deal.

Warning: Spoilers for the entirety of My Hero Academia

Plot and Circumstances

My Hero Academia is the story of a boy named Midoriya Izuku, also known as Deku. In a world where superhuman powers referred to “quirks” are commonplace, Deku dreams of becoming like his idol, the #1 hero All Might. Unfortunately, he discovered at a young age that he is entirely quirkless, all but dashing his hopes. But a chance encounter with All Might leads to the living legend transferring his power to Deku, making the boy the latest in a long line of individuals to carry a mysterious power called “One for All.” This sets Deku on a path towards entering UA Academy, Japan’s most prestigious school for aspiring heroes. Over the course of the series, Deku and his friends learn the ins and outs of being a hero, but also the fact that there are profound disagreements as to what that entails.The emergence of villains, including ones with ties all the way back to All Might’s prime years, adds a thread of history that connects past to present.

So much of MHA reflects the period and circumstances in which it ran. In 2014, titans of Shounen Jump like Naruto and Bleach were in their sunset years, and these series had helped popularize massive casts of uniquely powered characters through which readers can find their own favorites. MHA is cut from this cloth, with all of Deku’s friends and teachers providing a veritable smorgasbord of possibilities. Then there’s Deku himself, with his pure heart and humble desire to help others, who was one of the vanguards of a generation of “good boy” leads. And back when the series began, the Marvel superhero movies were truly a global phenomenon; I suspect that their cultural penetration in Japan is part of why readers gave MHA a chance. 

But a lot changes over the course of a decade. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has dragged on and suffered from all the problems that plagued the overly convoluted comics. Antiheroes never fell entirely out of fashion, and there has always been a contingent of readers who see Deku as boringly naive and someone who needs to learn how dark and difficult the world actually is. His rival Bakugo, a former friend turned bully, is hotheaded and violent, and one of those characters whom certain fans saw as the real star. 

A big question surrounding Bakugo’s popularity was the degree to which fans liked him because they saw him as someone who could change (particularly in regards to personal redemption for his terrible behavior towards Deku), and to what extent people liked him precisely because he’s an asshole. When the series then brings a more extreme version of this dynamic, the question of whether someone deserves forgiveness or a second chance becomes a lot more fraught: The hero Endeavor has a history as an abusive father, for instance, and the villain Shigaraki (responsible for many evils) is himself a product of generational trauma and manipulation. MHA seems to touch directly and indirectly on many cultural flashpoints of the past decade by virtue of being a series that 1) wants to portray a bunch of powerful and attractive guys and girls, 2) is very much centered around different ideas of hard work, camaraderie, and justice, and 3) is a long-running shounen series with lots of plot threads, which means pacing becomes an issue at some points.

The Ending

So when the final chapter came out, it was perhaps inevitable that the reaction would be mixed. There are too many different people with their own perspectives reading this series in their own ways. Even so, it still surprised me how much disappointment seemed to resonate through the fandom. Some interpreted his new life as a quirkless UA Academy teacher to be a bittersweet outcome. They saw it as unfair that a guy who saves the world gets little fanfare and legacy, especially because he loses his powers leading the charge to defeat the ultimate villain of the series, All-for-One. Even All-for-One apparently falls short as a major villain. Other criticismsI’ve seen include the lack of resolution for romantic shops, that outside of a brief period as a vigilantes, Deku never develops a “dark side,” and that having his old classmates develop a Batman/Iron Man–esque super suit for him is a cop-out ending.

Yet the ending is so appropriately Deku. It’s fitting that he would accomplish arguably the greatest feat his world has ever seen and then recede from the spotlight, only to be pulled back into it by the people whose lives he changed. Deku goes through a great many ordeals throughout the entire story, and while he learns that the world presents some complex moral quandaries, those tribulations also reinforce Deku’s inherently kind nature. He sacrifices All Might’s gift to him, One-for-All, to get through to his primary nemesis and rival, Shigaraki. He ultimately reconciles with a changed Bakugo, but not without taking many lumps in the process. In the aftermath of the final battle, he even encourages a villain to write a book about his perspective on why Shigaraki was the greatest, because Deku wants to hear the story he has to tell. And while Deku isn’t holding hands with Ochako (the #1 romantic prospect in the series) by the end, he does call her “his hero.” Even if they’re not officially together in the final chapter, they’re still only in their early 20s, with plenty of life ahead of them. 

It reminds me of the backlash against the ending of Gurren-Lagann, which was also a series where fans loved seeing the hero reach ever greater heights that all seemed to lead to a perfect happy ending, only for a slight twist at the end to break the tidal wave of endorphins the series had been generating at the end. I saw fans at the time its last episode aired express such anger and frustration at its ending, while missing the fact that the hero’s actions signify that the errors of past generations won’t be made by him.

Other Thoughts

I know that some of the problems were caused by questionable fan translations that made Deku seem a lot sadder than he actually was. But even taking all that into consideration, it’s strange to me that “teacher at UA Academy” is joked about as being some kind of perverse punishment. It allows Deku to apply one of his greatest strengths—his love of studying and analyzing quirks—in a way that connects to his inherent desire to help others. Deku’s humble nature is central to his being, and while I don’t wish to analyze the readers themselves, I can’t help but wonder how many people dream of being showered with praise for doing something great, and feel at odds with Deku’s values. If Deku has any great flaw, it’s his willingness to sacrifice himself at any moment, and even that is turned on its head by the fact that his friends found a way to make him a superhero again. 

It also juxtaposes him against All-for-One, who is ultimately shown to be a lifelong sociopath and the embodiment of selfishness. Speaking of whom, I can understand why readers might be disappointed that All-for-One turns out to have pretty uncomplicated motivations instead of those of a true mastermind, but I also think that contrast makes for an important point. For all his power and influence, he was ultimately no better than an emotionally stunted individual whose infamy and accomplishments masked an otherwise naked avarice. “Wasn’t he just a big baby in the end?” Yes, both figuratively and literally, and I can think of a couple real world examples who are exactly this way. The idea that great evil doesn’t need great motivation is deceptively simple.

Final Thoughts

With a series like My Hero Academia, it’s impossible to satisfy everyone who read it, especially because so many disparate groups came to this series. For some, it was a breath of fresh air in manga and comics. For others, it was their introduction to anime and manga. It was a mix of two of the world’s biggest genres with a few others thrown into the pot, and it went on for 10 years. Did it drag at times and leave some plot threads untied? For sure—that was almost inevitable. Yet I do feel that My Hero Academia successfully kept its core intact. There is growth, but growth doesn’t have to mean tossing away everything that made you who you are. For all the ups and downs, I think Horikoshi stuck the landing by remaining true to the hero he created.

Early-ish Thoughts on hololive EN Justice

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It’s been almost two months since hololive debuted its 4th English generation, Justice. Now that I’ve gotten to watch them for a bit, I wanted to give some general impressions and other thoughts.

Justice consists of the warrior singer Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame, the violin-playing automaton Cecilia Immergreen, the gamer gremlin Gigi Murin, and the artist panther Raora Panthera. Their backstory involves a mission to pursue the fugitives of the 3rd generation (Advent), but all of them are just using that as a pretense to get closer to their “targets” and become actual friends. It’s a fun way to add some flavor that makes it easy to both incorporate and ignore their own lore.

One of the biggest changes with the 4th generation is that most of them are European-coded, and they’re generally present during Europe-friendly hours. Elizabeth comes from Great Exardia and has a very British accent. Cecilia is from Immerheim and is natively fluent in German. Raora hails from the Romance Empire, where the local tongue is Italian. The only exception is Gigi from Freesia (which is so full of Freedom), but she streams at the same general time as the others. 

There’s long been a lull in the day because hololive focuses on North American and Asian viewers in terms of timing, with only Takanashi Kiara and Kaela Kovalskia around during prime CET hours. Having new girls help fill that void creates opportunities to gain and keep new fans. Also it lets more people feel both the joys of being near the same time zone as your favorite and the agony of that not being the case.

Something I find notable about Justice is that they’re the first English generation where none of them possess strong Japanese skills. Myth has Kiara and to a lesser extent Calli, Promise has IRyS and Bae (with Kronii putting in work), and Advent has the twins FuwaMoco. This is not a knock on any of the 4th Gen girls or any other hololive member. Rather, I think the fact that Cover Corp didn’t feel the need to include at least one person fluent in Japanese is a sign of how much more global hololive has become. Might we reach a point where we have hololive talent who knows neither English nor Japanese?

Currently, I think I like Raora best. Her food tangents are very enjoyable, her voice is very soothing, and the fact that she so readily draws fanart of herself means that she and her fans can appreciate her design together. The other three have their merits too. Elizabeth has an uncanny talent for voice impersonation that she uses in delightfully devious ways. Cecilia has a dry and absurd sense of humor that sneaks up on you. Gigi’s wit and ability to banter are both top tier, and I learn a lot every time I watch her.

I’m curious to see how they’ll be a year later, or whenever they receive their 3D models. 

(Actually, I just want to see Raora’s hand talking in all its glory.)

What if an RTS Race Had to Deal with Bureaucracy?

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I used to be really into watching Starcraft and Starcraft II, before falling off around ten years ago. However, over the past year or so, I’ve become aware of the many attempts to breathe new life into the real-time strategy genre through a variety of new games: Battle Aces, Stormgate, and so on. I’m uncertain as to whether we’ll end up seeing another renaissance, but it has me recalling the age-old question concerning RTS: How important should execution be?

I think the obvious answer everyone can agree on is that it should at least matter a little. That’s what makes it a real-time strategy game, and the degree of importance is where people will debate endlessly. But I wonder whether you can design a race within a game to be less execution-intensive without making them either too balanced or unfair. Essentially, what if this “low input” race tested different skills that were neither better nor worse than the others, but also had an inherent flaw in that it couldn’t rely on execution as much as others could?

I started to imagine a race that would basically be an empire with a huge and powerful army that is encumbered by its sheer size and maybe a bit of bureaucracy. What if there was a race whose units could be amassed more easily while also being stronger individually, but there was some drawback that kept the player from being able to control them more precisely? 

For example, maybe there is a cap on how many actions could be executed in a given period. This could resemble playing a commander who can only oversee the broader strokes of their forces, and has to leave the details to subordinates.

Perhaps the cap could be over a longer chunk of time (like 700 actions every five minutes?), so there can be moments where you can control your forces more directly, but you end up sacrificing the ability to respond more quickly a minute or two down the line. You’d have to choose when you can execute effectively, knowing that you’ll be more vulnerable at other times, or you could choose to play at a steady pace.

Another possible way to mimic a slow and convoluted chain of command would be to actually introduce a purposeful input delay. This could simulate you giving orders from on high that take time to get through to the lowest levels of the army. Maybe it has to do with controlling your forces, or it could be that upgrades or switching unit compositions take a longer while to happen.

In all these cases, the idea would be that this race can be effective and can be difficult to play in its own right, but it doesn’t hinge on physical execution as much. At the same time, it would allow other players and races who do want to use their honed macro and micro skills to defeat this race if they manage to hit hard at vulnerable moments. I have no idea whether something like this could ever work out, but I think there’s a way to have a reasonable and enjoyable compromise between those who want the high APM and real-time tactics and those who want to be methodical strategists.

I Want a Punch-Out!! Soulslike

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I started playing Elden Ring recently, and it’s my first time with a Soulslike of any kind. Having to make my character stronger while also improving my own skills, all while interacting with an unfriendly world full of giant boss monsters has been a fun and frustrating experience.

It also made me really want to see a Punch-Out!! Soulslike.

Think about it: Punch-Out!! is a franchise that’s all about fighting enemies twice your size, where you have to figure out their quirks and tells, strike them during brief moments of vulnerability, and not overextend lest Mike Tyson send you to the mat with one uppercut. 

What if your player character started from scratch and had to train up? It could be a series of boss fights, but what if it were more like an Elden Ring open world, and you could visit different gyms to practice or spar with others? What if other fighters (CPU or human) could come to your gym? Established major boxers you could face in more official or formal settings, but maybe there are also bad actors who want to fight dirty and jump you in an alley?

It’s been over 15 years since the last Punch-Out!!, for the Wii. I would love to see something that would capture the spirit of the franchise, but if Nintendo wanted to take a different angle, I think this would be a welcome and interesting change. 

An Elden RING, if you will.

Revisiting “The Transformers: The Movie”

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The 1980s Transformers movie looms large in my memory. I can still feel a part of me reacting to moments I first saw when I was maybe five years old, watching a VHS recording at a neighbor’s place. But I hadn’t experienced the full film itself in a very long time, only sometimes revisiting iconic moments on YouTube, and I wondered how I would view it through the eyes of someone well past childhood. 

There are a few things I’ve come to realize by watching The Transformers: The Movie again. Namely, I can see even more clearly why it was such a cultural touchstone for the young fans, and why it was so confusing and strange for adults. To the parents, film critics, and other older folks, Transformers likely spoke in a visual language that was disorienting and didn’t bother to differentiate characters in ways that made sense. 

But the kids, including myself, were essentially raised on the kind of collect ’em all mentality that involved different color schemes for boxy robots. Certainly, collectible toys existed in the past, but this was a post-He-Man world, where the sheer variety of action figures were tied to unique personalities that kids could know and love (or hate). Much has been written about how the death of the heroic leader Optimus Prime was a turning point/moment of trauma for a lot of children. 

Younger people reading this might wonder why this was a big deal beyond the obvious pain of having a fan favorite pass, but the key thing to know and remember is that death was unheard of in cartoons of the 1980s. No one ever got permanently hurt, lasers and guns would blow up vehicles but never people, and each episode’s ending reset to a status quo so that shows could go on forever, or even run episodes out of order if need be. What makes this all the more astounding is that the decision to kill off Optimus—and a large chunk of the cast—was the result of a cynical decision to make way for new toys to sell. The people in charge thought that the children saw Transformers as playthings, only to realize that they had introduced fascinating personalities and role models to which those kids could get attached. Even if the catalyst was simple capitalism, the result was an awareness of the power of fiction. 

One thing I realized anew is how the relationship between Starscream, Megatron, and Unicron plays out. Throughout the original Transformers TV cartoon, Starscream is a conniving soldier whose ambition is to overthrow Megatron and take over as leader of the Deceptions. He also never truly succeeds because he’s a coward who jumps the gun at the slightest sign of weakness, only to have it all backfire. On top of that, Megatron is simply more powerful than him, and he can’t hope to actually win in a fight. 

But when Starscream sends a weakened Megatron to his death, and the latter is exposed to a being far beyond him in the form of Unicron, it becomes clear just how very similar Starscream and Megatron are. Much like Starscream, the normally arrogant Megatron is quick to capitulate when threatened with real harm, but is also just as opportunistic—working towards betraying his new master by trying to obtain the Matrix, the only thing that Unicron fears. The only difference is that Megatron is more patient.

Another takeaway: The movie is basically a series of incredible vignettes kind of sloppily stitched together. The story as a whole is about passing the torch and discovering your potential, and individual scenes have some of the most impressive animation of all time, but the whole thing often feels loose and disconnected. It’s why watching clips of the high points on YouTube or whatever is so effective. Moments like the deadly battle between Optimus and Megatron, the Decepticon leader’s transformation into Galvatron, and the moment when Hot Rod fulfills his destiny with the Autobot Matrix of Leadership never fail to give me goosebumps. The weaker parts I can safely file away in the recesses of my memory. 

If you speak the “language” of Transformers and the kind of merchandising that is its legacy, everything about this movie makes sense. If not, then it all falls apart. I’m curious as to how newer generations of viewers—especially more recent Transformers fans—view this work. It’s a classic in my nostalgia-filled eyes, and I acknowledge all the ups and downs that come with such a perspective.

Ultimate Character Combo: Idols, Gals, and the Jougasaki Sisters

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As character types, the “idol” and the “gal” (or gyaru) have both been around in Japanese media for decades. However, they seem to have hit even greater notoriety in recent times. On the idol side, there’s been heavy hitters like Oshi no Ko and Love Live! Then there are works like Hokkaido Girls are Super Adorable and An Otaku Who’s Kind to Gals, where gals are the main heroines or the central focus.

The idol is an idealized symbol of pure devotion to the fans, for better or worse. Fan support is why she’s able to grow as a performer. The gal is attractive, forward, and runs up against traditional Japanese beauty standards. When portrayed with a heart of gold (or as someone who’s secretly a virgin), she transforms into dork kryptonite. 

What happens when the two are combined? Naturally, it would make for a powerful character.

In thinking about the relative success of both archetypes, I began to wonder if there are any examples of such a convergence. Then I remembered that there are indeed a couple of characters who occupy that intersection: sisters Jougasaki Mika and RIka from The iDOLM@STER.

I am by no means an expert or even a dedicated fan of The iDOLM@STER. What I do understand, based on my limited knowledge, is that 1) Mika and Rika were introduced in the Cinderella Girls mobile game in 2011, and 2) I’ve been seeing their fanart for what seems like forever—Mika’s especially. In all instances, they exude “gal” energy. According to the popularity polls, Rika was initially ranked higher, but Mika emerged as more of an enduring mainstay. As if to reflect Mika’s notoriety, the Cinderella Girls anime portrays Mika not as one of the main characters, but an established idol whom others look up to.

One thing I don’t know is whether Mika and Rika have been merely a reflection of the two trends or if they actually contributed to their presence in significant ways. In other words, while I can guess that their popularity has come from being gal idols, how often is it the case that the Jougasakis are the reason people got into one or both sides? Gal subculture has been around for a long time, but I don’t recall them being nearly as prominent as characters in 2011—at least, not in the way they are today, and not in terms of their cultural presence around in the 90s and early 2000s.

While one can hardly attribute the increased visibility of idols to primarily Jougasaki Mika or Rika (they are from games where nearly everyone is an idol, after all), I can’t help but wonder if they’re significantly responsible for shining a greater spotlight on “gal characters” in a way that has persisted over a decade later. If the sisters have played a large role, it would make them influential in a way few other characters can match.

And if there are any other examples of gal idols, I’d like to learn about them.