Note: I’m gonna speak as if the MMO is a complete narrative work that ended in Valencia part 2. This is just for my own argument because everything after that is part of an unfinished story arc. Also keep in mind that I’m not reading KI’s mind, I’m speculating on story writing logic based on what I know as a slightly-experienced writer myself.
So, the “Jake and the Neverland Pirates Problem” is essentially just… how I’ve been defining the tension/push-pull between a story’s concrete subject matter and its tonal obligation/target audience.
It’s not like, just about pirates. You could use it for any tension between the realities of a story’s subject matter and the genre/rating/format constraints the actual narrative needs to follow.
Historically, pirates were not child friendly. Narratively, we associate them with family friendly entertainment way more than we should.
Hence, “Jake and the Neverland Pirates”.
Pirate101, at CONCEPTION, was already trapped in a weird tonal crossroads. The game obviously didn’t want to take the Jake route and more or less make you a cool guy with a boat and sword— but also, this is a game for children and we can’t actually just let them be criminals. How do you take piracy seriously (when it’s defined by an incredibly violent reality?) and also keep it accessible for younger audiences. And also keep it light enough that talking cartoon foxes don’t feel like a slap in the face.
It’s not a secret that the historical eras (yeah, eras,) that Pirate101 is based in were incredibly fucked up times, and I’m just gonna jump into my next point from that which is:
There’s a weird valley where you have to use implication to get certain ideas across because you’re writing for an audience/writing in a tone where saying things super explicitly will not work/break something/other vagueish concept here.
So, what does Pirate101 do? It doesn’t want to cheapen out and totally take the teeth out of the pirate concept, but it can’t exactly go full “Our Flag Means Death” (show I have never seen) and give an accurate account of the Age of Sail and lawlessness within it. If they made their very obvious stand in for Britain, or Spain, or Russia, they might turn some heads. Parents don’t like it when kid’s games talk about historical horror too accurately. That might come with some baggage. That might get too real. Lotta reasons here and I can’t read KI’s mind. They might have just wanted to fight robots. Just know that metaphor and implication is the main language here, as is with Wizard101, as is with most “family media” and media aimed at younger audiences.
But there’s a solution, and it boils down to everyone’s favorite man.
Kane is more or less loadbearing to how Pirate101 works and I’m not kidding.
Instead of directly placing pressure on its real-world inspired worlds, it delegates them to (for the most part) minor villains and occasionally comically bumbling idiots, which makes the player FEEL like a clever pirate outsmarting multiple empires. This way KI can get a critique and jab in (self important empire, pompous social rules that don’t make sense, etc,) while also having an exit point into a more vague metaphor— the Armada.
To be clear I am very much saying that it appears the choice was made, for tonal/rating/genre reasons, to keep the Spiral powers in a softer focus— a full confrontation of the realities they represent with full weight would make the game too dark, too fast. The game flirts with these things (often poorly) but it’s not designed to really hold them concretely. You really just cannot make empires THAT cartoonish and satirical and then NOT dance around them. Pirate101 is a satirization of the Age of Sail more than it isn’t.
So the game tries to avoid putting you in a direct, sustained, serious conflict against them. We can argue that this reads as hand waving or flattening. (It often does especially when it hints and nudges towards parallels to real-world awful things.) But from a pure writing standpoint I CAN SEE how this could function as protection to keep the fantastical fantasy of piracy as the main focus.
Back to the Armada. With them, the narrative has more free movement to play in the space of “moral ambiguity” or “lawlessness”, because the Armada is so cartoonishly evil, oppressive, and more importantly, NOT REAL. All that “other stuff” can be forced into the background and we are allowed to leap into something more fantastical at any time. They’re an escape hatch.
Most everything “criminal” your pirate does with them on the board is now justified. Their “morally gray backstory”? Yeah, they were arrested for treason, how scandalous— they were telling someone how they overheard the Armada doing something evil! Doing magic? Oh, the Armada is so HEARTLESS, magic is so important. You pick an option thinking it might be something a little bit dubious and are immediately absolved of guilt.
You have multiple forces you’re up again— the other Spiral powers aren’t passive, but they act as roadblocks more often than not, and Marleybone even serves more as an ally, and the one REAL awful action you take (orchestrating the war) immediately leads into you going into the service of the Royal Navy. (And trust me I do dislike how good of a light Marleybone is painted in from this point onward, but that’s an entire other conversation.)
So all of this make the Spiral FEEL big, makes you FEEL clever and like you’re alone in a world that won’t understand/help you, while also placing all the pressure points on a villain that:
1. Isn’t alive (so when you cut down hoards of Armada, there’s no question of “wait did we kill all those guys?”)
2. Theatrically, cartoonishly evil (the more fictional and bombastic they seem the more they fit the tone of “talking furry game” rather than “furry political assassination and dying at sea)
3. Flexible for the story (might be slightly weird if Marleybone was the main villain and the story still was “get to el dorado and destroy the Spiral”)
Something related, not entirely a microcosm, is actually the tower of Moo Manchu— you can see the “sleight-of-hand” Pirate101 leans on here.
In the Tower of Moo Manchu there are the Nefarious Five and the Elixir of Power. You can choose to drink from it, and literally lose control of your player character. They’ll become “brainwashed” by Moo Manchu, be switched to the enemy team, and their moves will be controlled by a computer. For your efforts you’ll be rewarded a badge dubbing you “the Nefarious Sixth”, get some dialogue from Ratbeard about how “we all make mistakes”, and the dungeon proceeds as normal.
This lets the player try a “dramatic turn” on like a costume. Nothing actually happens, but you get to play with the aesthetic. It is, in essence, “playing pretend”. No one’s hurt. No one’s upset. It doesn’t follow you. You get to feel like something ambiguous is happening and the game doesn’t have to follow through and complicate itself when it really is just more concerned with the fantasy.
TLDR: what makes pirates pirates isn’t translatable to lighter tones easily. Pirate101, instead of scrubbing things and simply leaving cartoonish sword fights and boats, tries to preserve the structure of piracy as a social role by imitating the structure of the age of sail and delegating the main focus to a clear fantasy villain. This structure lets them hide darker aspects of their inspiration and setting.