Understanding Movement in Movement Shooters

Months after wrapping up my final game assignment at DigiPen - EXODUS2 - I’ve found myself reflecting on the intricacies of movement design and physics in games. Building a game from the ground up gave me a deeper appreciation for what makes movement feel good, and more importantly, what makes it fun.

Since I was young, I’ve been drawn to games that let you go fast. I grew up playing Team Fortress 2, Tribes Ascend, and even lesser-known titles like UberStrike (also called Paradise Paintball 3D for the OGs) on Facebook, which despite its simplicity, had a rudimentary bunny-hop mechanic that hinted at deeper movement systems but was sadly not used at all by the community. These games didn’t just allow you to move from point A to B; they rewarded you for mastering how you moved. Pressing the right keys at the right time, turning with precision, and timing your jumps, all added up to a kind of kinetic mastery that felt incredibly satisfying.

This is the essence of a movement shooter: a game where movement isn’t just a means to an end, but a central mechanic that defines how the game is played. Think Quake (Multiplayer), Titanfall 2, or Apex Legends. These games emphasize momentum, skill expression, and freedom of traversal-turning movement into a kind of language that separates novices from veterans.

But designing movement systems isn’t as straightforward as just making players go fast or allowing vertical mobility. When building my own movement shooter, I quickly realized that movement physics aren’t just about basic locomotion; they’re about creating a feel. Getting that feel right was one of the hardest parts. Since I built the movement tech from scratch in a custom game engine, I had to manually calculate velocity changes on a per-frame basis for every type of movement - whether it was ground acceleration, air strafing, wall running or wall jumping. It was painful to implement, but rewarding once it worked. I heavily referenced how bunny-hopping was implemented in the Source Engine which, interestingly, was much simpler than expected.

That said, even the most polished movement tech is only half of the equation. The other half is level design, and this is just as crucial. There’s no point in letting players move fast or jump high if there’s no room to let loose. Players need environments that support and encourage expressive movement. That doesn’t mean maps need to be giant empty boxes. Rather, they need to be open and creatively constructed - non-linear, vertical, and varied enough for players to experiment with the movement tech. Wall-jumping, rocket-jumping, bunny-hopping - all of these require intentional space to shine. This is something often overlooked when people reference traditional movement shooters like Quake or Doom. While those games featured advanced movement, their levels were typically rigid and indoor-focused, limiting opportunities to fully exploit that movement.

Only the PvP Arena maps in Quake, built specifically for competitive multiplayer, truly showcased the freedom and fluidity that movement shooters can offer. My personal favorite reference for movement-driven level design is actually the Team Fortress 2 Jump Map community, as those maps are:

• Large enough to allow high-speed traversal
  
• Creative in layout, encouraging players to think critically about how to reach the next platform
  
• Varied in their use of movement challenges tailored to different mechanics

Making my own game helped me understand movement on a much deeper level. It taught me that “good movement” is more than just a physics formula or a slick camera movement; it’s about creating opportunities for players to express themselves through motion. And when that’s paired with the right level design, the result is dynamic: a game that feels just as fun to move in as it is to play.