Shooting at Aliens (Open)

[outta_this_army]

Grif's been having a hard time sleeping, but that's not news. Everbody's been having a hard time sleeping. It bothers him, because the more time he spends awake the more time he spends thinking about it and the more geeked up he gets over it, and the more tired he is and the worse the dreams are. It's a vicious cycle, and he can't figure out a way

Comments

[stickyboots]

Peter's doing his trademark 'ohai just hanging from the ceiling next to your ear' routine, one of the controllers in his hand and searching vainly for the P2 START button.

"Dude, my super nintendo doesn't have half these buttons..."

[outta_this_army]

Grif registers that there is somebody next to him, quite close, talking to him but is not quite aware enough to pick out the details of such.

"Center button turns it on. It'll split the screen and let you jump in. Right trigger's shoot, left trigger's run. Click the right stick to jump, left to duck. X is jump, B's grenades, A is specials, and Right Bumper's reload," he rattles off the more important parts of the control scheme as he continues the fight.

He'd ordinarily complain about somebody stealing screenspace, but he's too busy at the controls and wouldn't mind some help right now anyway.

[stickyboots]

For a guy who's playing upside down, he picks it up fairly quickly. He plays in silence for a while before saying, "So we must've done something pretty heinous to get this many space gribblies all worked up."

Yeah, we've got a talker.

[outta_this_army]

"I think we blew up a couple a' their ships or something and they got pissed. I can't tell," Grif replies. He's managed to pull enough of his attention off to one side to talk back, in a kind of half-thought-out sort of way.

[stickyboots]

"Well that doesn't sound very sporting. I mean, maybe we ought to just OHMYGOD THEY'RE ALL OVER ME DIE FIENDS DIE!!"

There's a lot of alien hissing and erratic gunfire as Peter's side of the screen splashes with green blood, "So do we get power-ups or anything? Like a mushroom or a carrot or a rocket launcher or something?"

[outta_this_army]

"Ummm," says Grif, temporarily distracted by some giant lumbering tankish thing that he has to shoot in the back of the head in order to kill.

"If you see it and it's glowy, grab it. Pretty much. The green ones are health and the other ones are power ups. I can't keep straight what they all do, mostly make stuff explode."

The problem with this game? He couldn't find a manual. Grif's figured out most of this by just playing it. The explosions are all pretty awesome, though.

[stickyboots]

"Jumpjumpjumpjumpjump," he urges, jerking the controller upwards as if his character would lift higher for it.

He's run out of ammo, and dives into a throng of gnashing beasties pistol-butt first, "Taste cudgelling justice, mindless peons!!"

[outta_this_army]

Grif comes plowing in to try to help. Unfortunately, one of the beasties latches onto him and-

"Dude that thing ate my gun!"

That has never happened before.

"Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh craaaaaap!"

He'll be busy button mashing trying to not die/get a gun somehow now. Punches suck!

[stickyboots]

Peter's mashing as well, and somehow manages to find the grenade button he'd missed. He throws something that's either a molotov or an incendiary grenade into the thronging mass, the screen blaring with orange.

Okay, so now not only are there monsters, but they're on fire.

"For the love of Thor, where's the alamo?! Where's the alamooooo?!"

[outta_this_army]

"I think we're screwed," Grif evaluates, almost contemplatively. Oh my god, flaming alien monsters. He manages to find somewhere to duck and let his health bar or shields or whatever it is recharge some, but he still has no gun.

[stickyboots]

Peter's character is beating the proverbial retreat, cold-cocking any of the alien gribblies that got too close for comfort. Just when he's on his last couple bars of health, he stumbles on the motherlode.

A veritable cache of health pick-ups, ammo, and Big Damn Guns.

"Oh, baby, where have you been all my life?" he says, arming his brand spanking new rocket launcher, "Come and get it while it's hot! Just follow the smell of napalm!"

[outta_this_army]

"Oh sweet!" Grif uses the cover of the monsters being distracted by Peter's shiny new friend, and ducks over to grab something new to continue reducing them to green blood slime with.

"Seriously, I know this is Ultra Hard and all but when are they going to stop?"