The Game Journal Thread! Share Your Stories!

[BogusMeatFactory]

Inspired by Key Glyphs absolutely delightful journal entries in the Summer Games Challenge thread, I thought it fitting that we have a little fun and have ourselves a game journal thread. "But, Bogus!" you may be asking, "What in the heck is a game journal?"

Well I am glad you asked fictional inquisitor! This is a quasi in-character journal entry about the game you are currently playing. It can be in any style or tone that you like and don't be afraid to just have fun with it!

Let's begin shall we?

Manhunter: New York - Day One

It's been two years since the occupation of the Earth and for me, business has been slow. Days slip into weeks, which slip into months as I stare at the endless cracks of my apartment building. I couldn't honestly recall when my last job was and for a moment, that seemed like a relief. That all changed this morning when I awoke to, "it," looming over my bed staring at me, it thick veiny sclera pulsating at me. This enormous eye just hovering over me with jade iris penetrating my gaze, blaring its message into my brain, "ATTENTION MANHUNTER! THERE HAS BEEN AN EXPLOSION AT BELLEVUE HOSPITAL! INVESTIGATE!" Those were the first words I heard in what seems like forever. In a flash it darted back through exit and out of my morning routine. This was a job.

I pulled out my laptop and connected to the Orb Alliance Network and got to work. The Orbs had uploaded the tracking information of the suspect in question and luckily for me, they still haven't fixed their technological malfunctions that restrict them from viewing anything other than location. This is where I come in. I am a manhunter, dedicated to finding terrorists against the Orb Alliance and reporting them for processing. It isn't a glamorous job, by any means, but it keeps me living a comfortable lifestyle unlike most of the the world. As the scene played out before me, I couldn't help but wonder to what end this person would bomb a hospital. I followed them through their routine, stopping at arbitrary and unusual places, ending at a bathroom before, for some odd reason, the signal stopped. Who was this person?

I pulled on my brown robe and headed out into the polluted streets of New York City and followed the scent of my prey. The Hospital. Bellevue... it's history runs deep within the heart of the city, but now, no longer. A bevy of orbs flit in and out of the windows of the main building, its doors blockaded and inaccessible by citizens. Why do that? What purpose does this building now serve? Someone asked that same question and decided to blast a hole in the side of it. It was easy to see where the damage was. A security robot guarded the area from any unwanted bystanders and let me through. It was the morgue. Inside the room amidst the rubble was a body of a man named Reno Davis, a fellow manhunter who was supposed to be transferred to Chicago. Instead, he was a rotting, bloated corpse filled with the most horrific site. Orbs, by the hundreds and minuscule in size writhing through his internal organs like locusts to crops. A wretched sight. I needed to know why they wanted to look at this body, but there seemed to be little left of him to go on. I had to move on.

The suspect stopped at a church here in the city. It always surprised me that the orbs banned verbal communication, yet still allowed us to pray at our churches. They suspect light some candles in this area and I would assume prayed, maybe for forgiveness for their actions? I have no idea, but they quickly moved on to get a drink. Next stop, the bar. The Flatbush Bar in Brooklyn is as skeevy as it gets. Graffiti lines its walls and the inside wreaks of cheap booze and urine. I sit down at the table and pull out my laptop and review my notes. It looks like the suspect went to play a round at the arcade cabinet in the corner of the bar... odd. Why would they do that after bombing a hospital? I stow my laptop and notice a few odd glances from the men at the bar. I think they know who I am. I stroll up to the cabinet and put in a quarter into the, "Hall, Walls, Balls, Dolls," machine and began to play. It was then that they jumped me. Robed men pulled me from my game and slammed me down behind a table, grabbing my hand and forcing it spread open to the delight of a hulking figure that stood before me. Daggers glinted in his hands as he chucked them at the table, landing cleanly between my outstretched fingers. Relief. It seems they just wanted to scare me, or so I thought. The behemoth of a man then placed his own hand on the table and offered the daggers to me. It was my turn. I was lucky that I didn't nick his fingers and he and his compatriots patted me on the back with smiles on their faces. Then the oddest thing happened. They all lined up in front of me and, with one arm outstretched and bent at the elbow, they began to pump downward three times as if to signal something to me. I smiled back and turn to quickly get back to my game at the arcade, befuddled. What in the world is going on?

The screen flashed instructions on how to play the game before it began. It was a maze game. Navigate the maze and collect balls that are thrown at a series of Kewpie dolls that are at the exit of the maze. As I found the optimal path and made it to the exit, I was rewarded with an image of Coney Island and fireworks. Peculiar. I hooked my laptop up to the machine and downloaded its information. If the suspect played this machine after committing an act of terrorism, it must have been important. I play a few rounds and move on to my final destination, Prospect Park.

This was where the suspect was last seen, entering the ladies' room and then, "poof!" gone. I enter the restroom and take a seat in the same stall the suspect was in. Time passes and as I begin to leave, I reach behind me to flush the toilet and have an epiphany. My arm is in the same shape as those goons at the bar. I flush three times and quickly get sucked into the toilet. How I survived that mind-bending act of physical impossibility, I have no idea, but I ended up in the sewers, covered in filth. It seemed like an eternity wondering the labyrinth, but at least I knew one thing. I knew where I suspect went. After a moment, I turn on my laptop, wipe the filth off of me and check my notes. The one thing that was stuck in my mind was, why the arcade machine? It was just a maze! It was then that it hit me. The arcade machine was a map to the sewers! I quickly begin to follow the paths, stopping at each location where a ball from the arcade game would be located and what do I see? Keycards floating in the muck! A trail! For who? Why? I quickly spent my afternoon gathering all the keycards, 12 in total and make my way to the exit. It was a dock that led out into the bay. The dock was barren except for a small medallion with an Orb on it crossed out. Interesting. Out in the distance, you could see the ferris wheel of Coney Island. I think I know where to go next.

After a long swim through the polluted waters, I final dried off and took to the streets, making my way to the old theme park. There were side show attractions abound, but there was on stand that stood out, the Kewpie dolls. The man at the stand points at the sign that has three explosions on it. Knock three down to win a prize. Having played the arcade machine numerous times, I knew that there were only three balls thrown in the optimal path out of the maze and they knocked down the Kewpie dolls in a particular pattern. I replicated it and the man just stared at me strangely, as if looking for a sign. I hesitantly held up the medallion to him and his eyes grew bright with fear and excitement. He quietly handed me a data card and ushered me away from the stand.

What was on this? I quickly pulled out my laptop and inserted the card and a series of words flashed across my screen. "The End is Near. The Way is Clear. Destroy the Lady, Before they are Ready. Phil is Trouble. He's a Double. He's an Eye, That's no Lie!"

Phil? Phil who? It was than that my computer erupted in alarms with the words, "ORB OVERRIDE! YOU HAVE HAD SUFFICIENT TIME! REPORT SUSPECT'S NAME!" I had no idea. I simply typed, "Phil," and left it at that. Seconds later the screen flashed "RETURN HOME IMMEDIATELY. WAIT FOR FURTHER ORDERS!" I guess that is that.

[Key-Glyph]

Aww, thanks, Bogus. And wow, your game sounds like a trip! Do you know why speaking is forbidden? Is the character more of the blank-slate type, or does s/he have loyalties and opinions on this new world? Is there any kind of in-game text communication for you -- a narrative, or maybe your character's internal thoughts?

I felt compelled to read the whole thing and will be following the rest with interest.

[Key-Glyph]

Super Metroid, Part I

Samus Key Aran
Bounty log
Stardate 41827.7...

I am only just now allowing myself to pause for a moment and process the events of the past 24 hours. I record this log from a cavern within the mantle of a place I had hoped never to see again: the planet Zebes. I thought nothing could bring me back here. But then they stole my hatchling.

Let me explain. When I was deployed to the planet SR388 to exterminate the metroids -- a species of alien creature that had only become a threat when exploited and unleashed as a bioweapon by pirates years before -- my heart was not behind the Galactic Federation's decision. But I followed orders. That was the type of soldier I used to be.

SR388 itself shook and bled as I thinned the metroid's numbers, driving home the magnitude of this unethical destruction. My stoicism and resolve eroded in tandem. When I finally faced down the Mother Metroid, I spoke to her in a language she could not understand -- that I had to kill her to finish my mission, that there was no way out for me now, I had come too far to change our course... but that I would carry my hatred for myself and my responsibility in this murder forever.

And then, on my way back to the surface, I found the hatchling. And I wept.

We almost vanished together. I know now that we should have. For when I arrived back at Ceres Station, charging the scientists with the care of the only creature in the universe who trusted me out of love, they sealed it up and ran experiments. A bounty hunter has no say in these matters. I demanded they keep it comfortable and safe, but I could not ensure it. They failed on the former point; I could hear it crying, confused, in its empty room. And 24 hours ago, they failed on the latter.

And now I am back on Zebes, viewing this familiar territory through new and unfamiliar feelings. I am not here to protect the galaxy. I am done with following the self-serving and immoral orders of my superiors. I am here to retrieve my creature, and make its kidnappers pay.

Samus Key Aran, end log.

[BogusMeatFactory]

Aww, thanks, Bogus. And wow, your game sounds like a trip! Do you know why speaking is forbidden? Is the character more of the blank-slate type, or does s/he have loyalties and opinions on this new world? Is there any kind of in-game text communication for you -- a narrative, or maybe your character's internal thoughts?

I felt compelled to read the whole thing and will be following the rest with interest.

Yeah, orb law requires people to wear robes and not speak at all, I think to prohibit people from working together to take them down. Of course, the series is incomplete so they may not have gotten to the why even though almost everything has context in the universe.

[MrPopo]

XCOM 2: War of the Chosen

Operation Shambling Pipe Mission Postmortem

Objective: Investigate the Advent Blacksite for useful intel and materials

Squad: Lieutenant Dragunova 'Outrider' (Reaper)
Sergeant Sergeant Torres 'Mystic' (Templar)
Sergeant Dobrynin 'Bones' (Specialist)
Sergeant Barnes 'Animal' (Grenadier)
Corporal McKenzie (Grenadier)

Report by: Sergeant Dobrynin

We touched down on the roof of a structure on the edge of the compound. The Lieutenant had just been discharged off the injured list a day ago and she was ready to get back into the shit; it's a good thing she was there because she helped ensure we didn't bite off more than we could chew. She ordered the squad to form up under cover while she scouted ahead. Almost immediately she spotted a turret on the next building over; we hadn't encountered those before but they seemed heavily armored and would be quite difficult to take down. Since this was supposed to be an in-and-out intel gathering mission we decided to give it a wide berth.

On the road in front of the facility the Lieutenant discovered a small Patrol; a Muton and an Advent Trooper. She elected to take them out with her Claymore; the Trooper was killed instantly and the Muton ran back to the Blacksite. I can only assume it thought it better to seek the safety of a group when under attack by an unseen assailant. The Lieutenant was not willing to let him escape and quickly found the entrance to the main building of the Blacksite. There she found another Advent patrol in front; a Priest, a Trooper, and a Purifier. There was some heavy equipment outside and the Lieutenant was able to take out the Priest by blowing one of them up. However, the others, not sure what to do about these unseen attacks, decided to hole up at the entrance and she was only able to finish off the Muton.

She radioed back to us to update us on the tactical situation and continued her reconnaissance sweep. The squad was now informed of the fight that awaited us at the entrance, and we started to move up into position. Meanwhile, the Lieutenant got her first look inside the facility. What she described seemed horrific; rows upon rows of humans in stasis pods, stacked from floor to ceiling. Apparently we had gotten there just as a cycle started, as the vast majority receded into the ground, presumably to some unseen processing area. The interior was patrolled by a MEC and two Troopers; the Lieutenant picked off the Troopers as targets of opportunity.

Before we reached our ambush positions, there was a crackle over the wide band and we heard the sinister voice of the Assassin. In hindsight we shouldn't have been surprised that she would show up; it was clear this was an important site and XCOM's recent activities all pointed to an imminent attack on this facility. The transmission must have emboldened the Advent forces; the door guard, previously in a state of shock, had decided to charge forth and spoil the ambush. That's when we gained a vital new piece of tactical knowledge; Purifiers have Incendiary grenades. Fortunately only myself and Sergeant Barnes were hit; the others managed to escape the blast. Unfortunately, I think the Lieutenant's pyrophobia got the better of her and she broke from her reconnaissance sweep to try and take out the Purifier. We were lucky this obsession didn't bring the MEC calling and the entire squad convinced her on the ride back to get it treated immediately.

Corporal McKenzie distinguished herself by taking out the Purifier in one shot, while Sergeant Torres kept the Shieldbearer busy with her blades. The encounter, while it didn't start off as planned, went our way but we knew the Assassin would be looking to pick us off shortly. We stayed clustered up outside the facility, and McKenzie, on her own initiative, dropped a grenade at a weird blip she had seen around the corner of the facility, revealing our assailant. The team laid down a withering pattern of fire, forcing her into a retreat, though in the process the MEC found us and nearly took out McKenzie. Fortunately I was able to shut it down long enough for the team to take it out.

At this point things calmed down. The Lieutenant dropped back into the shadows and continued her sweep, while we held up; with some major injuries we didn't want to run into an alien patrol unawares. The Lieutenant discovered a strange alien vial in the heart of the facility; this was obviously worth getting back to Tygon for analysis. She also discovered a patrol of Sectoids that had taken up positions near a second turret. Fortunately, it appears the Sectoids did not realize that the turret had been built near a highly explosive power generator, and the Lieutenant was able to overload it and destroy them all. With the area secure we moved in to capture the vial. That set off alarms throughout the facility and we double timed it to the evac zone, ahead of the reinforcements that were dropping in.

All in all, five went in and five came out, and with the Assassin showing up that was not a sure thing. We hope Dr. Tygon can find something useful in the vial we recovered.

END OF REPORT

[Key-Glyph]

I'm torn on whether we should edit our original posts in order to consolidate all our entries for each individual game, or construct this like the Games Beaten thread. For the time being I'll go with the Games Beaten format -- but it just so happens that I've been lazy enough about cross-updating here that this second post is just a big consolidated text dump anyway.

1. Super Metroid (SNES) - Part I

Super Metroid - Parts II - V

Part II:

Samus Key Aran
Bounty log
Stardate 41828.3...

Zebes is changed.

As I barrel through the planet's defenses I find myself pausing to stare. The beautiful flora, the incredible geology -- was the landscape this breathtaking all those years ago? It feels so new, so undisturbed... but then, like jolts from a walking nightmare, realizations: this is where I first entered Brinstar. This is the chasm from which I escaped. This is the path to Kraid.

I should have descended again after my initial escape. I should have been thorough and made sure these monsters were truly dead. There is no time to reflect as I stare down my old foes, but in these quiet moments afterwards, my mind wanders. Was that the same Ripley? Was this the same Kraid? How is this possible?

More and more the nightmares and the real combine. A Chozo statue come literally to life; the bones of a fallen denizen lunging at me in death. I push on with my purpose, but sometimes as I wake from what little sleep I find, I truly cannot get my bearings.

Samus Key Aran, end log.

Part III:

Samus Key Aran
Bounty log
Stardate 41829.1...

I record this log on the eve of my final assault.

I've chosen to spend the night sheltered in my spacecraft. There are many reasons for this. I can rest in relative comfort and security, for one. But for another, it's also my home. Its familiarity provides an illusion of normalcy amid my constant obsessive ruminations.

I have blasted a circuit through Zebes three or four times now, methodically uncovering new techniques and paths on each pass. (Note to my engineers: this auto-mapping technology has been indispensable. If I don't see you again in person... thank you.)

My sights have been permanently locked on Ridley's lifesigns, but on no orbit have I had the tools necessary to storm his lair. Until now.

Ridley, Kraid -- I've had empathy for them in the past. The space pirates, with no limit to their depravity, threw all this planet's fauna between themselves and me on my first mission here, stacking them like living shields. Their hope was that I would fall neatly to these predators. Instead, I slaughtered my way through them. Big or small, aggressive or defensive... how intelligent are they? What agency do they have? These are some of the questions that have kept me awake at night.

But tonight I cannot sleep for thoughts of my hatchling, and I realize my capacity to care for other beings is shifting. My purpose is focusing like a laser, honing to a deadly point. If Ridley were a pawn in this, could I alter course? Or would I deal him the same fate as the Mother Metroid -- another unspeakable extinction -- but this time so blinded by vendetta as to feel no remorse?

What won't I do for that one baby alien? Is there a limit to my depravity? What does this mean for me? And do I care?

My objectivity is gone. As I plunged into the depths of Maridia I caught a fleeting glimpse, and that was all it took. And then... my god, what are they doing here? There are more again -- more metroid larva -- and as they pursued me, sluggishly, the fear again and again that I might not recognize my own --

Why, why are there more? What are they doing to my little one? Can it sense me here? Does it know I'm coming to save it?

I must try to doze here, in preparation for tomorrow. Familiarity. Clouds. Acid rain. Wind. And Ridley, Ridley, Ridley.

Part IV:

Samus Key Aran
Bounty log
Stardate 41830.2...

Ridley is dead -- but the baby metroid is not here. I continue my search; but knowing that it is no longer imprisoned, that it has escaped... there is hope for it yet!

I race on!

Samus Key Aran, end log!

Part V:

Samus Key Aran
Bounty log
Stardate 41906.1...

I record this log from the surface of SR388, where I have stayed for the past eight days to think. And grieve.

Mother Brain has been destroyed once again, along with the monsters protecting her. When I forwarded this news to the Galactic Council, they publicly announced my "mission" as if it had been their own edict and proclaimed it accomplished in the same breath. They cobbled together old clips of my service footage and immediately released the new medley as fresh propaganda for their corruption. Just as they manipulated the world's interpretation of the baby metroid's arrvial on Ceres Station with that ridiculous staged photograph, again they've used me as a pawn to simultaneously promote and obfuscate their agenda.

The baby metroid...

It is very difficult to process what has happened, what my influence in these events has caused. The true mission -- my self-described mission, orders born of my own heart and a desire to protect the exploited -- has failed. The hatchling, grown massive, recognized me as its mother and... I was trying my hardest to tell it to run, but it continued to shield me, and it waited too long.

My baby metroid was born into a world in which all its kind were dead -- murdered by me, a soldier too bound by her sense of duty to abandon what she knew was wrong. I, its mother, handed it over to strangers who chose to experiment on it in lieu of care. It was subsequently captured and subjected to more experimentation and captivity. When I finally caught up with its captors, my baby metroid fell to protect me and my unforgivable hubris. I could not even comfort it. How could it know my feelings as I knew its own, as it restored my life, a hair's breadth from death? It is too much to bear.

For one short moment, that one wonderful and confusing moment in which it hatched, it was safe and happy. Everything after was suffering. And it was all caused by me, the one being it loved and trusted.

I sit here on SR388 to feel the full weight of this loss, of what I have done. I knew I could never forgive myself for what I did to the Mother Metroid... but this? What sense is there to make of this tragedy? My motives may have changed over these past missions, but every time, the result was the same: devastation at my hands. My baby metroid and I should have aimed for the distant stars after I found it here. We should never have gone back. We should have disappeared. To meditate on its short, pitiful life is... my heart breaks. And the cracks fill with self-hate.

I am not sure how to carry forward from here. I am consumed with regret. I do not know how to atone. I don't think I can.

Samus Key Aran, end log.