I am the Hunter, and the Hunter has chosen "Fallout 3" in which to exact her mighty and terrible wrath.

The Hunter cares not if you are friend or foe. She has no regard for those along her path that may want to aid her. Though those good Samaritans wish to help, the Hunter sees only a roadblock. She sees only a roadblock that lies between her and her goal, and every roadblock shall be smashed and destroyed utterly, including the unceremonious theft of all worldly belongings, no matter how insignificant. For what seems to the untrained eye as only a bent tin can or a shot glass, to the Hunter this is a trophy, a reminder of her annihilation of some poor sap foolish enough to think they could interfere in the Hunter's work.

The Hunter sees neither age nor infirmity, neither race nor sex. The Hunter sees only hindrances, only chaff that must be separated from the wheat. A child needs help finding a new place to live, and so the Hunter obliges. The Hunter finds the child refuge and a happy reunion with lost family...and then the Hunter mercilessly slaughters both child and adult, reminding them that though the Hunter may pause to help and further her own objectives, she is, in the end, still the Hunter. Those sad, blinking anime eyes do nothing to thaw the heart of the Hunter. She will not blink as those eyes are blown completely asunder and go bouncing merrily along the ground.

In her travels, the Hunter may encounter various animal and insect life, pathetic creatures who come from far across the landscape to try and eliminate her. The Hunter laughs, for no creature can stop her. From the mighty Deathclaw down to the measly bloatfly, the Hunter fears none of them. The Hunter does not run from conflict. She embraces it. Though there is nothing to be gained from mowing down such unimportant foes, except perhaps for some paltry meat that provides little sustenance, the Hunter does not falter. The Hunter exterminates all who cross her path. She has no need for reward. The satisfaction of the kill is all the Hunter needs.

"Do not go into the super mutant-infested streets of Washington D.C." That is the warning that the Hunter heard, but it fell on deaf ears. She charged forward mightily, rushing headlong into the dangerous corridors of the wasted city. She did not pause to shake in fear as the legions of mutated abominations closed in on her. No, she did not. She simply reloaded her combat shotgun and in a deafening voice said, "Bring it." Every corpse desecrated. Every body looted. Every ounce of opposition crushed until there stood only the Hunter, victorious on the field of battle. Though new enemies replace their fallen comrades with each return to the scene of our decimated capital, the Hunter shall not be moved. Though it is far out of her way to lay waste to the lone mutant wandering the tunnels, and she will only gain her 96th Super Sledge for her trouble, the Hunter will take the time to locate this enemy and smite him. For that is the way of the Hunter. The Hunter leaves no survivors.

NPCs thought they had nothing to fear from the Hunter. They thought that because they are integral to the storyline that they would be safe because the Hunter needs them to move forward toward her goal. They did not remember, however, that they continue to linger once the quests are complete. They did not remember that the Hunter needs no one. Once the Hunter received her achievement and was permitted to move forward with the story, she returned and brought with her furious battle and unending death. The Hunter does not ask for permission to use that restricted computer terminal. The Hunter does not request to be given the key to that inaccessible door. The Hunter does not beg for the important scrap of paper contained in an inside coat pocket. No, the Hunter knows the most important rule about surviving in a post-apocalyptic world: it is easier to get what you want from someone if he is dead. The Hunter lives her life by this rule, and the rule serves the Hunter well.

The citizens of the Capital Wasteland believe, foolishly, that needing achievements will stay the Hunter's hand. They believe she will aid them because if she does not, she will not gain her ultimate reward. The Hunter throws back her head and lets out a mighty chuckle at this. Achievements matter not to the Hunter, for she has the power of the Replay. The Hunter may release her horrible wrath as many times as she likes because she may always start back at the beginning. So, citizens of Megaton, be you parent, child, or member of the Church of the Children of Atom, do not sleep soundly with the reassurance that the Hunter will not annihilate your entire town. She will, and then she will calmly reload her game and start over.

So, this is your warning, inhabitants of Fallout 3. If you stand in the Hunter�s way, you will be eliminated. Rivet City shall become your tomb. The Citadel will be the site of a massacre. Little Lamplight, just because you are children does not mean you will escape. The Hunter will not spare you because she is the Hunter, and the Hunter has enough stimpaks to make sure she is the last one standing.

I noticed something today while I was gorging myself on Resident Evil 5’s Versus mode, and I’m both disturbed and oddly satisfied by it. I tend to keep my mic off when I’m playing on-line these days, if I have my headset on at all. It’s just less of a headache after all the trauma I’ve experienced in the last few months. However, today, I thought I’d give it a try again because I was TRYING to be a good teammate. I was TRYING to coordinate some sort of strategy that isn’t running around after my teammate, trying to Amazing Kreskin his next move. I was TRYING to be sociable instead of punishing everyone for the actions of a few…okay, a great number of…mighty, mighty douche bags.

Why don’t I ever learn?

I tend to play as Chris or Jill. I love a shotgun, but for some reason, I like the sight of Jill running around in her little battle suit a little better. I’ve never noticed any sort of pattern when it comes to other players and their choices of characters. Guys seem okay with playing as girls, and when, and if, I ever come across any other girl gamers, I’ll see if they have a problem with playing as men. This is where it gets hairy. I suppose it’s my own fault for picking a gamer tag that might, perhaps, be misleading. Where is it written that there cannot be girls named Brad? In this case, it’s justified. My name isn’t Brad. My gamertag is the same screen name I use all over the internet, and it’s a screen name that has a long and strange history. I suppose if I wanted everyone to know I was a girl, I could have picked a gamertag along the lines of xXxIAMAGIRLxXx or ILUVSPARKLYTHINGS. I’ve mentioned how, in the past, I’ve had trouble with playing online once my teammates find out I’m a girl. Today, I found it was something of a blessing.

I’m am inevitably greeted with “Brad…hey, dude.” every time I start up a game. I usually let it go. I call my girlfriends ‘dude’ all the time, so this is not offensive. I try very, very hard not to let loose with a string of expletives when someone walks up and blows my face off and screams, “DIE, BITCH.” I’m sorry. Say what you want, but I don’t like being a called a bitch by a 10 year old. It’s just a thing.

I start up a game, with my mic off, which is fine because my partner didn’t say a word. We ended up stretching this game of Team Slayers out to almost ten minutes, and the only chatter was from the other team, who were effectively slaughtering us along with the Majini. I assumed my partner just didn’t have a mic, and I was fine with that. No amount of strategizing was going to save us in this match. The other team was just much, much better.

Then suddenly, about two minutes into the game, I get a notification that my partner (whose gamer tag will be withheld) has sent me a message. I don’t fancy pausing in the middle of a game to check messages, so I just went on with my game, vaguely wondering what the message said. Weird, in the middle of a game, to stop and write someone a message, isn’t it? Another minute passes and I get another message. Then another. What the fudge? The match ends, I take my paltry 1000 points as a parting gift and head back out to the main menu to check these messages.

Shock and awe, they are voice messages! My partner DID have a mic the whole time. The text of this message read “GTFO OF MAH RE5”. Hmm. I pushed play and then had to endure twenty seconds of being told that I suck at Resident Evil, that I should kill myself because I’m so bad at it, and that he wants me to leave the game RIGHT NOW OMG.

The mind struggles to comprehend.

I go to the next message which is just a few seconds of mumbling, but I could pick out a few words. “Retard” was chief among them. Lovely. I go to the next message and I wish I could remember what was in it word for word. The gist of it was “I don’t know if you’re a retard or something, but I don’t have the time to waste on you. I’m going to f*cking find you and kill you and cut you up into a million pieces. Got that? I’m coming for you.”

O___o

Beyond the fact that what was just said to me is completely illegal, I sat there in shock that it had been said to me. Is this what people spend their time doing? Forget that I was the one keeping the string of combo kills going. Forget that I was the one saving him every time the other team whittled his health away to nothing. Forget that I was the one who carried the game. It was just so amazing that I couldn’t resist responding. I very calmly recorded a simple message. The only audio was this: Why are you being so mean? I said it just as sweetly as I could, and yes, I played up my Southern accent. The response came almost immediately, and I laughed for at least five minutes.

“You’re a girl? Sorry about that. Want to play again?”

I filed the appropriate complaint, but all the while, I wondered why it was okay to threaten to kill a guy, but the moment I was a girl, he was so apologetic.

Resident Evil 5 isn’t racist, but its players are sexist. And a little crazy, if you ask me.

I thought the only good conversations I'd hear and take part in would be over XBox Live, but I was wrong. The following conversations took place in my living room. My sister (hereafter known affectionately as P.S. for Pregnant Sister) and her baby daddy (hereafter known as B.D.) have just gotten into L4D, so between fighting them for play time, I sit by and watching, listening to what they have to say. Usually, it turns out to be a pretty good time.


B.D.: Just when you think Bill is a worthless bastard, he goes and saves you. Thanks, Bill.
AI Bill: *accidentally shoots and kills B.D.*
B.D.: Bill, you son of a bitch!


P.S.: In real life, if you were trying to run away from zombies, them hitting you wouldn't stop you. It might actually push you farther.
B.D.: In real life, we wouldn't travel with an old guy, a biker, the token black guy, and Cortana from Halo.
Me: In real life, I'd incap both of you.
My Mom: In real life, zombies aren't real!
P.S.: Shun the non-believer!
Me & B.D.: SHUN! SHUN!


B.D.: Do you think the other zombies make fun of the Boomer because of his weight? Maybe that's why he always runs away whenever we see him.
P.S.: Don't cry, emo zombie guy.


P.S.: Think about it. The Boomer is hideously obese. The Smoker has hit the bong too many times. The Hunter looks like a crack addict. The Tank is obviously a warning about steroid use. This whole game is a subliminal message about addiction!
B.D.: Zombies are my anti-drug.



Next time: Overheard...in Lord of the Rings: Conquest

Guy #1: Gandalf could so kick Saruman's ass.
Guy #2: Hello? He didn't. Saruman owned Gandalf in the movie.
Guy #1: Oh, right. *pauses* What movie?

Yes, I'm behind the times. I know the sequel is coming out in a little less than a week, but I just picked up F.E.A.R. for the 360 not three days ago for about 17 bucks. (Score!) The posters and promos for the sequel intrigued me, and I love survival horror (though if F.E.A.R. is survival horror then I don't know what the term means), so I really don't know why I didn't get it before now. Other than maybe my complete and total aversion to everything FPS, which has since been demolished, thanks to L4D. So I popped it in and started playing yesterday.

I didn't move for about 5 hours.

That game has completely sucked me in. I'm completely smitten with Alma Wade and her flesh-melting deliciousness. I made my family call me Point Man all day. I love it.

But why does it scare me?

The over-used image of creepy dark-haired girls has completely saturated the American film and video game market during the last five years, though it is no new thing in Japan (but this is a country that loves tentacle rape, so take that for what it is worth). I shouldn't be so disturbed by Alma and her sporadic appearances throughout the game, but I am. I do not like seeing her through a window, only to run around and find her gone, only her spooky giggles left behind to taunt me. I do not like wondering when she's going to ambush me next with her insane hallways of blood and fire. I do not like these things, but yet, I keep playing, and I keep being scared.

I'm not all the way through the game yet, but the only enemies I have encountered so far are soldier guys, security guard type guys, weird electrified ninja guys and very random robotic super soldiers, which kill me at an alarming rate. The enemies in the game are not scary, unless you count Paxton Fettel, though I've yet to encounter him in the flesh since he knocked me in the head with a two-by-four, causing me to scream and throw the controller. Heavily armed rent-a-cops and their cloned counterparts are not scary, yet when I enter a hallway, I still listen and wait and watch for any sign of them before continuing, terrified they will jump out of a corner and karate kick my head in.

I thought maybe it was the atmosphere that set me on edge, but an office building, even patrolled by soldiers and the ghost of Alma Wade, is not scary. When the lights flicker or boxes fall of of shelves of their own accord, yes, maybe I get a little apprehensive, but cubicles by themselves are not scary, unless you work in one and then, maybe, I'd understand. I do not, so it does nothing for me.

I've considered the fact that maybe I am just a wimp. It's entirely possible. I slept on the couch after playing Silent Hill 4: The Room, and I still sleep on the couch to this day. (It's the part when you see Walter Sullivan across the apartment complex, leering at you like a pedophile, only to have him disappear before your eyes when you get over to him. And the peephole incident. Completely bizarre and terrifying.) But I am a horror-movie junkie, so years and years of blood and guts should have desensitized me to the normal staples of movies and games. Only the truly bizarre serves to frighten me these days, but for some reason this game has messed me up. I heard someone crunching on the ice and snow outside my house last night and ran screaming back inside, my dog struggling to keep up. So maybe it's just that I do it to myself, or that I'm not as brave as I thought I was.

I just can't put my finger on it. Why am I so freaked out?

Does anybody else feel the same way about this game? What, if anything, scared you? Show me that I am not alone, or at least that I am not alone in my scaredy-catness.


NOTE: Spare me your diatribes about how Silent Hill 4 isn't scary, about how it isn't a Silent Hill game, and blah, blah, blah. I don't want to hear it. KTHNXBAI.

The RE5 demo completely kicked my tail.

I'd like to think I'm proficient at RE games. I've played them since their debut, and I love them dearly. One of my favorite video game memories was the pure, unadulterated joy of discovering that--shock!--you can just run around Nemesis in RE3 instead of standing there and letting him kill you. I thought RE4 was absolutely the most satisfying game I'd played in a long time, and that was because I thought it was hard. Maybe that makes me a crap gamer, but I'm not ashamed of it. It took a long time for me to beat the game, and when I did, I felt like I'd accomplished something. You don't find that much anymore.

When I eagerly downloaded the demo, I had already read a few people's opinions of it, but I told myself I wasn't going to let it color my judgment. My first impression was how pretty the game looks. It's just plain pretty. (Well, as pretty as the gritty reality of poverty stricken Africa can be. Starvation! Yay!) I don't have a big fancy television, but even on my almost 10 year old 27 inch screen, it looks lovely.

My second thought was that I hate the inventory screen. Unless I'm missing something, the little "press Y" cross-shaped interface is all we get, and the fear of only being able to carry five things nearly kept me parked in that first alley in Shantytown. I quickly remembered it was just a demo, and I wasn't going to base my final feelings on what I was seeing. I tried to familiarize myself with the controls and just go with it.

This was obviously the wrong thing to do.

Dr. Salvador's cousin killed me in ten seconds flat. There, I admitted it. I moved on to the other scenario.

The guy with the huge bladed hammer thing annihilated me after only about five minutes.

I was so distracted by the partner interaction that I didn't notice him effectively caving in my chest cavity until it was too late. I tried again, this time remembering RE3 and trying to run like hell around him. That didn't work either. I tried the shotgun. Nothing. I tried grenades. Nothing. I was killed over and over again, and I almost cried.

And then something occurred to me: this game is hard.

Hooray!

I was worried about this just being the obligatory sequel, a remix of RE4 that I'd buy just because it's an RE title. From the demo, I feel like I'm going to get just what I want. Another RE title that is difficult and satisfying and completely worth my 60 bucks. I might be wrong, but so far, I'm very excited. I know that's not a popular statement. I know a lot of people don't like the demo, but those people can just not buy the game and shut up about it. Those of us who love RE will happily enjoy yet another great title in a great series.

Or maybe I'm just crap and the game is better than me. Whatever.

And to explain my title...the whole thing looked like a meth overload. The Kijuju all look like they're on meth. Their buildings and homes are classic crankhead environments. Even the super sharp textures make the player feel like THEY'RE on meth. Meth mania all over the place.

I loves it, precious. I do.

I�ve only been on XBL for about three weeks. In that short time, I�ve learned to both love and hate it. When things go smoothly, there is nothing that can tear me away. But more often than not, I�m either screaming or wanting to cry at the amount of suckage going on every day via my wireless internet connection.

I really only signed up for XBL to play Left 4 Dead. One run-through of the single player campaigns and I realized that no, no fun by yourself. Split-screen destroys the look of the game, and I can�t find anyone who likes zombie killing as much as I do who is willing to sit with me for hours at a time to kill them en masse. Xbox Live opened up a world of possibilities.

Or so I thought.

I�m not sure what it is that draws these people to me. Or maybe it�s nothing, and XBL is proliferated with these people and there is no escape. I simply can�t find anyone who actually wants to play the game the way it is supposed to be played. The campaign side of the game can get pretty tedious. If you�ve played Blood Harvest twelve kajillion times, you�re going to know all the tricks, all the places to go, the best ways to finish the episode in the shortest time possible. However, not everyone is so well-versed in the levels yet, and we�re left behind with a question mark floating over our heads. Never mind the people who are there only to exploit the glitches, while the rest of us actually want to play.

If I play one more game in Dead Air where I am ordered to destroy the mini-gun so we can get on top of the plane, I might hurt someone.

I�ve just now started venturing into the Versus mode of the game, and nowhere is there a place where teamwork is more needed. It is very easily for a well-organized team to completely decimate one that is made up of four people who think you can strong-arm your way through the whole thing alone. I�ve seen it happen. It regularly happens to me.

I get left behind when cornered by zombies. I am the sole survivor running back to help someone who has been pounced, only to get tied up by a Smoker for my trouble. Someone else gets the Boomer bile, and while I�m crouching and using the melee like it is going out of style, I get shot from behind, and usually incapped. Which then, of course, turns into me being left there to die while I watch my team run away gleefully. I am not ashamed to say that I am the one with the sense of glee when two Hunters and a Smoker completely wipe them out in one fell swoop.

Crescendo events are the absolute worst. There is nothing more annoying to me then when I carefully set up the gas tanks and perfectly position myself only to have someone come along behind me and completely destroy my hard work, usually getting us massacred in the process. Crescendo events are the time when you need teamwork above all else. They are put there to destroy you if you don�t know what you�re doing.

What I am looking for is a group of people who actually want to work together to complete the game. I�d like to have people who are more experienced than me to learn from, not people who tell me how much I suck because I haven�t mastered the ins and outs of every single scenario. I would like to never again have to worry about being killed by my own teammates, which is much more humiliating than just being booted from the game.

Will this ever happen? I don�t know. Is XBL too full of these nightmare players to ever hope for anything else? I�m hoping so. Until that day comes, I will keep searching.

And probably keep getting sacrificed and laughed at in an XBL party chat so that I can�t even hear the things being said about me.