(What I notice coming out of this thread is how the different individuals enjoy experiencing video games, and the kinds of things they think about while gaming. The question is how can some of this feeling be projected into the game design so that the player feels it too, and would they be willing to accept what the designer is trying to get the game to say? I ask this because I felt movies and TV shows that I enjoyed saying things to me, and I''d like anything I make that I''m really proud of to say the same kinds of things.)

The terrorists managed to secure a secret operations base at the edge of town, in an abandoned manufacturing facility.

I'm on my way there now. I'm almost out of missiles in my car, and I'm getting close to the bridge spanning the river.

Looks like they have an armed force waiting for me coming across the bridge.

I punch my accelerator and take a left off from the bridge. I switch to hovercraft mode, drop to the water, and skim along its surface, following the trench of the river towards the plant.

Command has informed me that there is a tunnel under the surface of the water that might get me in undetected.

Switching to sub mode. Glub. Turning on sight enhancers. There's the tunnel. And how convenient, it slants upwards. Hopefully the tunnel beyond is friendly for driving vehicles. Too bad there's a school of sharks blocking my way. They're probably trained, too. Figures.

[edited by - Waverider on January 21, 2004 11:45:57 AM]

Here is a game from a perspective you might not imagine, but it will easily be recognized. What game and what part?

Soon after I breath my first breath of life the order comes to me. I soon understand what my lot in life will be this time around. I skitter over to a large pile of crystal minerals that has become my assignment. Slowly but surely, I gnaw away at the monolith of blue, glowing crystal. After my powerful mandibles process it for a while, I scoop up the stack and carry it to my birthplace.

From there, the crystal will be used to help win our war against our current enemy. I can’t remember who it is this time. It seems like it is always some one new. If it is not one of our own competing factions, then perhaps it will be the “pink skins” in the metal suits. Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside. It could also be one of those creatures that protects itself with invisible armor. They, like everyone else, have their weaknesses, and are even better tasting that the pink skins. We could even be facing all three at once. Always a new battle.

I savor the taste of my unseen enemies as I continue to work my pile down. On one trip back from dropping off crystals, I notice more of my brethren have been hatched to fulfill their own fate. One of them, is working on MY pile. Bastard. I look for an open pile but lines are already forming. Something must be in the works. Soon enough, I receive new orders. I am to go to the edge of our lifemass and metamorphose into that which will further our cause.

I reach the desired point and burrow into the life giving mat. There, I begin my transformation. All of the crystals I had collected flow through my veins as energy and become the base upon which I build myself. When I awaken anew, my sight extends far beyond that which I had grown accustomed. I can see much and naturally start extending the life mat to my furthest sight. I hope that they will see fit to let me mutate again. At least then I will be able to do my part to defend. Unfortunately, I feel my doom approaching before that order is given.

I strain my sight to it farthest reaches, for I know what is approaching. There is a slight tremble at my furthest reach. The pink skins approach. As I feel the tremor approach, it suddenly stops… a slight whirring noise as it plants its feet. Death has come to collect his dues.

Sounds like they got rushed.

I log these entries in my journal only because I cannot make sense of them.

On my very first mission from the magistrate, I was drawn into a haunted graveyard by a wandering spirit. While there, I encountered a most troubling situation.

The spirit of a young child was constantly being tortured emotionally by a fiend, who was accusing the child of his own selfishness, criticizing the waste of his dreams, telling him he serves noone but himself, etc. The child simply sat there, not knowing what to say, where to look, or what to hope for. He beared little awareness of what relief from this would be like. And there was another more benevolent being, who clearly had full control over the demon, but was allowing him to abuse this child. At the child''s limit, the benevolent one would move the demon away and console him, to give him just enough hope to bear another round of torture.

I had to step forward and ask why this was being allowed. The response was simply, "So that the child can know me for who I really am." Then he gave me a stare that seemed to hint at what my own future holds.

I can only say that if this child can survive what I would call such a pointless cycle of hopelessness, he bears more resilience than I. And if this is indeed a hint of what lay ahead in my future, something tells me I am very wrong about what I have truly set out to do.

DrMol: Simcity? Gangsters? I''m not recognising it...

If you don''t get this next one, you have some gaming to do.



I don''t know exactly where I am. Well, I know where I *am* - lying on some kind of a pier, next to a boundless ocean, on an uninhabited yet built-up island. But I don''t know where I am.

The last thing I remember was a book in the library. It looked quite old, and was quite heavy - hardbacked, with leather in the bounding. As I opened it and looked through, something felt different; the very words on the page seemed to have a deeper affection for their environment than plain ink on paper. The places they described, the sights, sounds, and smells, seemed to feed into my senses rather than my imagination. Before I knew it this other world had replaced my own, and I was falling through a void, towards this ocean.

I guess I must have dragged myself to this island, but I''m not sure what to do next. Am I even really here, or is this whole thing some illusion, like a drug-induced hallucination? I have no idea. But to be honest, staring up at these clouds is getting kinda boring.



Richard "Superpig" Fine
- saving pigs from untimely fates, and when he''s not doing that, runs The Binary Refinery.
Enginuity1 | Enginuity2 | Enginuity3 | Enginuity4 | Enginuity5
ry. .ibu cy. .y''ybu. .abu ry. dy. "sy. .ubu py. .ebu ry. py. .ibu gy." fy. .ibu ny. .ebu
Preserve wildlife: pickle a squirrel today!

quote:Original post by DrMol
Superpig- Myst? Ugh.

Yes. Hehehe.

quote:My was Republic: The Revolution. Coulda been much better but it is definitly a break-out game, which is why I like it.

Ah, never played it.