A touch late, but I’m getting back on the weekly bandwagon!
This was originally going to be a straight up, written post, but I got to watching some folks’ video logs and wound up hauling out the webcam.
Turns out that’s the first actual use of it I think I’ve had since I bought it with some cash my stepson and stepdaughter-in-law gave me for my birthday. Which makes for an interesting illustration of this video’s point, I think…
You know, throughout a lot of my life, I’ve tried finding happiness through getting more stuff, reading more advice, trying to find the right way to do something instead of just doing it and learning from there.
But the last little while has seen some changes, quite a few of which I’ve been able to direct myself, and I’m discovering that real happiness is all about being around people – and not lots of them.
↓ Read the rest of this entry…
We were in the middle of my first game of Avalon at the Goblin on Thursday evening when Thomas and Mitchell started saying it.
Thomas was looking at Shantelle while she was trying to decide who to take on a mission with her. “Hundy hugh,” he said, eyes wide, cheery (or should that be cheeky) smile.
I originally posted this on the Alien: Isolation forums and have edited some spoiler material out for its appearance here. You can read the original at this link, but be warned – I discuss some major end-of-the-game stuff.
Well, that’s it. All done.
I just polished the campaign off today. One playthrough, on Hard. And… wow.
To the staff at The Creative Assembly, congratulations for creating a complete and utter nerve-worker. Bloody good game, but certainly not a happy one. I feel put through the wringer. And I know full well I was the one turning the handle.
I’m sitting at my PC at home. I’m comfortable – well, as comfortable as I’ll get in my chair. I’m holding an Xbox 360 controller, which is plugged into my PC. My thumb is resting on the controller’s A button.
On the screen in front of me is the image of a door. Well, a hatch, big and white, the only exit to a darkened room. Light shines in through two vertical windows on either side of the hatch. In the middle of it, where the seam between the hatch’s two halves runs to the left, is a palm-sized red button.
As soon as I press the A button on my controller, my avatar within the room will reach forward and press the red button in the hatch on the screen. The hatch will then open.
And I’m scared.
I don’t want to push the button on that hatch.