Pulsaris
Shared on Mon, 02/13/2006 - 15:35I wanted to update my blog, but then I remembered I'm lazy. So I'm posting Episode 2, that I wrote of my Making of a Spartan. I think its better than my first was, but thats not saying much. Hope you hate it less.
This was written in April of 2005
This was written in April of 2005
“The Making of a Spartan”
Episode 2: Multiplayer Havoc…. Or “Stop Shooting at Me!!!”
We last left our hero at a time of great danger…although the hero believed he was safe. He had tackled unbelievable feats of skill and accuracy. Nothing could get in his way….his powers had come to fruition and the future was his.
Okay, enough about this “hero” dude. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, was about to get schooled (and I’m talking big time teaching of the ways of Halo). That’s right people, I lost. Again and again, I took bullet shots in the face (they don’t taste like chicken, I can assure you). I took sticky grenades to the visor. I had reached the realm of “The Multiplayer Zone” (Do do do do do do do do).
I was not quite sure what to expect in my first experiences online. My first thoughts were of a fantasy of the unknown. Where grenades sprouted out of the ground and everyone was willing to “take one for the team”. People would shake my hand with pride and lift me over their heads, chanting “Long live Furiont!!!” (Okay, maybe I was a little skeptical about the last part). Needless to say, I could not have been more wrong.
I began my multiplayer excursion with a bit of a blow to the ego with some rumble training. Instead of being an average player like I thought I may have been, I realized I had about as much skill as a blind ferret (although a blind ferret has one hell of a bite). I had been used to fighting sub-par creatures of skill, and now I was fighting unique minds and unexpected actions. I mean, who in their right mind would fight with a needler was my first thought- then I realized I just died by the hands of a “needler-wielder”.
I found myself mainly just tossing my body into the frays of chaos only to be hit in the back of the head with a pistol. I was getting used to seeing my body on the ground as I awaited my next reincarnation so I could fall to the ground only seconds later.
I was thinking, “Hey, maybe I’d get some good advice if I could hear what these fine players are saying.” So, like most of you, I bought a headset. I was very excited at first to hear my fellow players talk to me in the heat of battle. When I wore my headset for the first time, I had to convince myself the voices I was hearing were not my own, and that I did not need therapy. And these voices, my friends, sometimes they were a little “odd”. In pregame lobby, some addressed their competitors with a “sup” or “how’s it going”. Others went for a little more direct approach, like “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE ***HOLES” (and that was a nice one). Others chose not to speak and chose to be the match’s DJ and play all the latest hits, yet I could never understand the lyrics. Some just chose to scream, like we were in a cheap, low budget horror movie.
During the match, the voices continued. Instead of advice, I heard “EAT IT!” The oddest voice spoke for an entire game about the benefits of being a vegetarian and that a pig is your friend (honestly, it really did happen). There was no chanting of my name, other than mispronouncing it and after I was killed I was told to “DIE NOOB!” (everyone was called that, so that made me feel better). My body was taunted with the oh so well known skill of “corpse-humping”.
Each game type I played, my frustrations continued. I was confused as to the actions of other players. Some players seemed to actually ENJOY jumping off of cliffs. I would hear them scream “YAY” as they dived into a deep chasm, only to return and repeat their dive into the unknown (maybe they dropped a nickel or something). Some tried to anger fellow teammates, either by mocking them, yelling gibberish or *gasp* killing fellow teammates. The multiplayer world was a much different place (okay, it can be really messed up).
My weaknesses came out with a vengeance from time to time. My grenades had suicidal tendencies, or just hated me. I would die at my own hands, or by one of the walls that mysteriously rejected my offering. My sniping skills were bad, but my evasion skills were horrific. If I were to receive an award for sniping inanimate objects, I would have received the Pulitzer. I found myself being sniped in any situation. For a while, I thought I had accidentally put in some kind of code that informs snipers exactly where I was, from miles away- even with camouflage. Next thing I knew, a white trail of what seemed to be a mini-comet of some type aiming right for my noggin’ (that means “melon” for those not familiar with slang). Then I would be on the ground once again wishing the levels were carpeted.
As much time progressed, I was noticing odd things. I found that when I would shoot at others they actually fell down. First I thought they were doing it out of pity. I soon saw on the record sheet, that I had been given a number other than zero. After I had my eyesight checked, I realized I was actually getting a little better. I did some experimenting with weapons and got worse. I was determined become friends with not only the pink porcupine, but also the mollusk-looking thing that many referred to as the “brute shot” (which means that it can only hit a brute 200 feet tall and a mile wide). Many weapons became good friends, such as the shotty and the good-ole pistol.
Many of my problems were due to using the weapons the wrong way. I found out the ineffective use of sniping with a shotgun, or sticking someone with a frag grenade (those puppies just bounce off their heads- but it is pretty damn funny). Sniping someone in the head at close range is not recommended, unless you are a sniping beast (which I am not, I assure you). I did experimenting with dual wields and found ones that gave me more than zero kills. I was actually getting better thanks to practice (and no, practice is not the name of a Halo player- well, it may be).
Once the kills started coming, and understanding that you “take” a flag, and “arm” a bomb, I started to catch on. The joys of watching other people dying while I was alive to see it started to kick in. Watching bodies flying in all directions as a grenade flew into a hill game became a joy. I was becoming one blood-thirsty happy recruit ready for more destruction and to move up in the ranks!
Almost everyone that plays multiplayer for the first time has to deal with the beginning pains of the multiplayer world. It took a while me a while to get over these pains, but for others it takes less. I tell you, my Halo friends, do not give up on your dreams (you can be a Ghostbuster when you grow up- I have faith in you, young one). Most of you, like me, may have controller-tossing contests. You may have thoughts that you will never get better. But I promise you, if you put in some time and a little bit of effort, those zero kills will progress to a few. You may even become good at Halo (no matter what that person inside your head keeps screaming at you). Before you know it, you may even become on your way to becoming a Spartan. Just remember, you are not alone!
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