That Part with the Homage to Adventure Games

Writer's Note: While it requires some editing -- I pass from present to past tense seemingly at random -- the bones of this vignette align in my own brain. This acts as a continuance of sorts of my blog post "Hitting the Mat."
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I hear waves.

No explosions, bullets, or foreign voices reach me. The pressure is off my leg and I feel warm. I move my arms and open my good eye.

I'm lying on warm sand.

I struggle to my back and prop myself on my elbows. In front of me, waves roll into the beach but 20 meters beyond the waves an opaque whiteness like a wall or some kind of fog blocks further view. To my right and left the white sand beach extends another 20 meters or so and seemingly blocked by the same fog. I rub my eye. The recent explosions and shockwaves may have done more damage than I realize.

I look again with a fresh eye, trying to blink my way passed the wall of fog.

Directly behind me are three palm trees. Nestled amoung them is a large wooden packing crate with the lid not quite nailed on. Beyond those objects, more fog.

I blink some more then gather myself.  I stumble for a step, but I managed to get my body to the crate and palm trees.

There are two dozen bottles of water, sunscreen, wool emergency blanket, a first aid kit, a bag of netting that turned out to be a hammock, a couple dozen k-rations, and three formal suits.

I stripped down and salved my wounds with ointment, wrapping gauze and bandages where I was bleeding or oozing most. I dry swallowed two pain pills. My stiff fingers worked enough to stretch the hammock between a couple of the trees. The effort exhausted my already spent carcass so with the small amount I had left I eased myself into the sling.

For the next two weeks, I healed under a never-changing sky and perfect weather. I drank most of a bottle of water a day, and what appetite I had was met with stale k-rations. The pain in my side receded to a dull ache and most of the rest of me felt much better in my little beach bubble. But I was restless.

Old Republic: It's Losing My Interest

I really would like to spend more time playing Star Wars: The Old Republic. But almost every time I've had a spare hour to devote to the game, I watch the game download and apply a patch or update rather than actually play it. This is exactly why I would get frustrated if I had to review a Playstation 3 game. If I hadn't had the console on in a while, I'd have to wait out the time consuming update process. This meant I wouldn't actually play whatever game I was supposed to be reviewing and slip into bed instead.

So, while these software updates are good for a restorative sleep, they're playing hell with my review schedule.

Star Wars: The Old Republic - knee-jerk reaction

Okay, so I'm not that deep into Star Wars: The Old Republic yet but I remember why I abandoned City of Heroes (as much as I liked it).

I'm a Level 4 cyborg smuggler and I'm not even out of the origin story yet. For the last couple of days I've been vainly attempting to get past a Level 6 robot guy. This damn thing keeps laying me out! Last night it dawned on me that I needed to head out into the surrounding area and grind out a couple of levels to reach 6 to ensure I could squash the robotic bastard. That's when City of Heroes stopped being fun for me and I was much deeper into the game than the first couple of hours. The moment it became about The Grind I lost interest.

With Old Republic I just want to explore the storylines and forget this grinding thing. Discovering your own Star Wars story certainly has an appeal for me but not when I'm frustrated this early on with the game. I'll stick it out for a while longer but my fortunes had better turn pretty damn quick or this one's getting a hyperspace jump to the Uninstalled system.