(Originally published to Glitchwave on 7/13/2025)
[Image from glitchwave.com]
Rabi-Ribi
Developer: GemaYue
Publisher: Sekai Project
Genre(s): Metroidvania, Bullet Hell
Platforms: PC, PS4, PS Vita, Switch
Released Date: January 28, 2016
You’ll forgive me if it sounds like I’m rolling my eyes or groaning when detailing the plot premise of Rabi-Ribi. Erina, our protagonist, wakes up from some sort of stupor in a cardboard box to shock when she sees that she’s been transformed from a rabbit into a human being. She retains some of her features, such as the long, floppy ears, but now she resembles the type of bosomy bunny that roams around Hugh Hefner’s Hollywood mansion (because of course she does). To uncover the mystery of her transformation, Erina makes haste towards her home village of Rabi Rabi Town on Rabi Rabi Island, the residence of many other girls of her oversexualized ilk. Accompanying her on her adventure is a pink-haired pixie named Ribbon, whose outfit reminds me of the girls that used to prowl around my college town’s bar scene, signifying with their clothing that they craved male attention without ever needing to utter that desire. After Erina finds Rumi, the mayor of Rabi Rabi Town, she tasks Erina with finding the rest of the town’s coalition to power a portal that transports the user to another dimension.
If the fact that Erina refers to Rumi as “master” is any indication, all of Rabi-Ribi’s attributes that are difficult to stomach continue deeper than just its aesthetic on the surface. Characters, especially Ribbon, annoyingly refer to themselves in the third person, and the dialogue in general smacks of stereotypically trite feminine verbiage indicative of a male writer who has a narrow and ignorant understanding of how women talk. To make matters worse, Rabi-Ribi is easily one of the more dialogue-intensive Metroidvania games I’ve ever played. Not only do conversations between NPCs prattle on for pages and pages, but gameplay is consistently interrupted with sudden screen-freezing textboxes taking place mostly between Erina and Ribbon. GemaYue evidently didn’t get the memo that Metroidvania games borrow elements from Symphony of the Night, not the derided Simon’s Quest. I don’t think the influx of textboxes was a necessary evil in expositing Rabi-Ribi’s “lofty” narrative, but because it’s the only way they can flaunt the anime figures seen on the cover in an otherwise limited, pixelated graphical plane. Representing a character with their avatar while they speak is a charming presentational detail in a game like Persona, but in a game where the anime style runs too thick to the point where every character has perpetual “fuck me eyes,” every instance of text popping up on screen is quite discomforting. Thank Christ that the rudimentary pixel art on the field greatly diminishes the kawaii illustrations exhibited during text conversations.
Perhaps I should stop harping on Rabi-Ribi’s presentational aspects and delve into the meat of the Metroidvania gameplay. Overall, Rabi-Ribi treats the genre’s patented interconnectivity matched with its utility-gated progression points competently enough. Throughout Erina’s journey of literal self-discovery, she’ll encounter the typical Metroidvania enhancements that allow her to traverse more thoroughly through the terrain, such as aerial maneuvers like double jumping and wall jumping, a powdered lubricant that allows her to slide through tight crevices, and a bomb that blows away rocky obstructions in the shape of a rabbit’s orange vegetable of choice. Utilizing all of these upgrades with a diligent habit of exploration will often reward the player splendidly with items that augment Erina’s other attributes, such as maximum health and damage output. The world map, with an abundance of these aidful trinkets in its deeper recesses, is as colorful and diverse as the rooms of a dollhouse, and the rationale of each district’s placement amongst one another is surprisingly concise considering how it liberally revels in variety. Still, one point of critique on Rabi-Ribi’s world is how the map itself as a point of reference is rather unclear. Its symmetrical, angular schematic is evocative of the one that guided the player through the depths of Zebes in Super Metroid. Still, the underlying difference is that the entire map of any area could potentially be fully illuminated regardless of whether or not it was previously discovered once Samus found a map station. Because Rabi-Ribi’s map exclusively jots down places that the player has already visited and every inch of the area is depicted as a square or rectangle with hazy barriers, players will likely remain oblivious to the uncharted corners without extraneous guesswork involved.
No matter, for Metroidvania progression and exploration seem to be nothing but formalities in Rabi-Ribi. The gameplay aspects that Rabi-Ribi seems to emphasize over all else are combat and light RPG mechanics. Exhibit A: Rabi-Ribi’s “standard difficulty” mostly eschews the exploration/backtracking aspect of the experience, while the “alternate” setting places these aspects at the forefront, like a traditional title in the genre. All other pieces of evidence to the claim that Rabi-Ribi yearns to divert from its genre trappings will be clear whenever the player is forced to fight enemies on the field. Not only are the majority of spaces more congested with enemy activity than the average Metroidvania fare, but every hostile’s offense is so scattered and erratic that it genuinely designates Rabi-Rabi as a “bullet hell” game. Avoiding enemy adversity can be incredibly overwhelming at times, but Erina’s line of defense fortunately covers all bases. It turns out that Ribbon isn’t just a yappy companion always in proximity to Erina’s ear, but a useful tool in inflicting five different shades of projectile damage to enemies, equally as merciless as the firepower they bombard Erina with. When Erina is in intimate range with any enemy, her trusty hammer is certainly effective enough in batting them with blunt force. I’m sure the significance of Erina’s melee weapon of choice stems from its ubiquity among other tarty feminine characters across a wide array of fictional Japanese media (Amy Rose instantly comes to mind), but Erina supersedes this strange feminine stereotype with the grace and adroitness she exhibits when wielding it. Combining both ranges of offense will increase the game’s combat meter, and the rate of achievement is signified by a letter grade that comes with increased battle benefits as the attack chain continues. Add to the fact that most items uncovered during exploration and the wares of Miriam’s shop in Rabi Rabi Town either extend Erina’s offensive and defensive attributes or are healing items intended to stave off her demise, and Rabi-Ribi’s prioritization of combat over traversal as its general modus operandi is perfectly transparent. I’ll excuse the unorthodox Metroidvania design ethos here because it’s executed adequately, but it’s still inexcusable how indiscernible the more humanoid enemies are from the innocuous NPCs.
The full extent of Rabi-Ribi’s combat is on full display with the game’s extensive slew of bosses. Every other girl that resides in Rabi-Ribi’s world that Erina enlists in Rumi’s escapades has a chip on their shoulder when Erina encounters them for some inexplicable reason, which then escalates to a full-out brawl. As unassuming and innocent as these young ladies seem, each of them is a testament to the bullet hell component of Rabi-Ribi’s gameplay. During each boss encounter, every single girl that Erina unintentionally provokes unleashes a harmful fireworks exhibition that is equally as vibrant and profuse as the next. I swear that every display they spew never repeats itself, matching the distinctive nature of snowflakes. Of course, the unpredictability of each boss's stylish showcase makes evading them all the more challenging. It’s here with Rabi-Ribi’s formidable foes where this adorable puppy gnashes its sharp canines, and the player is liable to meet their untimely demise. Healing items are naturally vital in mitigating Erina’s death, but the player will stand a better chance at besting these bunny haters by honing a technique to increase the combat meter. Otherwise, hitting a boss with Erina’s hammer will feel as if it were swapped for one of the inflatable ones they give out as prizes in carnival games. Rabi-Ribi’s bosses are certainly engaging in their unexpectedly steep conditions, but I’d argue that it still isn’t a mark of intuitive gameplay. Bullet hell games are traditionally made for the arcade in mind, which is designed to eventually vanquish the player through increased attrition. When that gameplay aspect translates to a game that is intended to be finished, being faced with a spray of energy that is practically unavoidable does not bode well with the general reasonableness expected from modern games in this format. I’d suggest stocking up on health items to alleviate every inevitable scratch and burn, but the game thought ahead of this and only allows the player to have two of each healing desert in their inventory.
While the bosses were all-around admirable, they still didn’t offset the rest of Rabi-Ribi’s elements that were violating my senses at every waking moment. Before my threshold of tolerating Rabi-Ribi’s off-putting essence reached its breaking point and caused me to vomit, something happened in the game’s narrative that momentarily quelled the nausea. When Erina enters the stele situated at the center of Rabi Rabi’s town square, she is transported to a world unlike the quaint, female-dominated one she’s familiar with. In this modern city setting, Erina and Ribbon are ambushed and sexually harassed by male characters who all take photos of the scantily-clad girl with their smartphones while making crass, lascivious comments. While batting these creeps away with Erina’s hammer in self-defense, I came to a moment of clarity. Considering the gender, unflattering design, and behaviors of this enemy faction, the game finally showed some self-awareness of its implied demographic. Not only that, but the game seemed to be reaching into the realm of metafiction, commenting on the asocial depravity of the worst kinds of fans these types of works attract. Unfortunately, this scene was not extrapolated on, and the game’s plot instead verged towards the lore of a bunny genocide and a figure named Noah who serves as the game’s gruelingly lengthy final boss. I’m greatly disappointed that the game almost conveyed something of substance just to plunge downward back to the catacombs of nonsense. The remainder of Rabi-Ribi’s story should’ve played out as a character vs author/artist conflict, confronting the man in the “real” dimension who penned this pandering filth and satirizing the fan culture that surrounds it. This scenario might be stretching too many fictional insertions on my part to be plausible, but what Rabi-Ribi’s story actually amounts to is nothing but overly convoluted poppycock.
It turns out that Rabi-Ribi is more than just the first Metroidvania game that one can masturbate to, or at least the first one that ostensibly obliges the player to do so. While there isn’t much mechanical depth in its interpretation of a Metroidvania game’s world design, its unusual integration of bullet hell gameplay certainly makes it unique and genuinely enthralling, albeit not entirely approachable. Frustratingly enough, even with its laudable features, I still can’t digest the disgusting implications of its art style despite trying my best to overlook them. When the game introduced me to its characters and throttled me through its messy, overwrought plot, all it did was affirm my prejudices against it. Rabi-Ribi may not deserve the ugly title of “Custer’s Revenge for the subsequent century,” but it is still undeserving of being noted as an exemplary title in the Metroidvania canon.
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