Thursday, March 21, 2013
Back to Normal Soon, I Promise
So, this week has been sparse in terms of posting and the reason for that is basically that my sleep schedule has gotten progressively more and more fucked with every passing day. When I started this post at 10:30 PM, I had been awake for 20 straight hours and as I near the 11:30 mark because I have been trying to collect my thoughts, well, I'm sure you can guess the divide between the 20th hour and the 21st. It is a gap that is not meant to be crossed by mere mortals and I cannot help but wonder what actual insomniacs go through when they're on the 37th hour, the 48th hour and so on. It cannot be pleasant, whatever it is and though I have sleeping issues, I dare not suggest I have that, even in jest, because it is kind of a serious thing and it gets thrown about far too loosely and too much for being something as awful as it is.
Moving away from that, I will instead spin a few little yarns to you fine folks about my adventures in Deus Ex: Human Revolution. You might have heard that it's getting a Wii U Super Port and you can thank me for that since I started playing the game on PS3 the day before it was announced. Sure, I didn't get -far- into it, but I -did- play it and, well, that happened. Sort of like Persona 4 Golden finally getting a release date literally right after I beat Persona 3 Portable. Except that wasn't horribly depressing in a "oh god, am I going to do -everything- in this game -twice?-" sort of way. Maybe 'depressing' is too strong of a word, but I'm sure you can gather what I am sort of shooting for here.
Rather than talk about the mechanics of the game, whether or not I'm enjoying it and the like, stuff that you generally save for a review or, indeed, just discussing the merits of the game, good and bad, I will pull from the file of stories I created today in my absurdly long session of play that I may entertain you. Or at least entertain myself as I relive the memories because they are honestly pretty enjoyable for me if nothing else. I dub the stories "The Adam Jensen Files: Fun with Cyber-Strength". I am pretty sure you can imagine -what- the stories entail, and I will try not to spoil things, but there are some things that are sort of vital to understand.
Now, at a certain point in the game, you're expected to go into a place known as Derelict Row, which is an area that is populated by one of the street gangs. That's fine enough, right? Except you're expected to go rather deep into it and not be detected in the process, which is a bit of a difficult thing. What makes it doubly different, of course, is if you're playing like me, going full-lethal, and you haven't found a fucking silencer yet, seriously, where the fuck are they. It degenerated, basically, into me picking off bangers one at a time while running back and forth from cover when they came over and started moving back to their patrols. What I'm getting at is that it was a bit of a slog and I never wanted to go back to Derelict Row ever again.
So, of course, later on you get a mission where you have to do just that. At first, I was annoyed. "Guh! This fucking place!" I exclaimed, and then I remembered, "Oh...I don't have to be undetected this time. And I have a shotgun. With the dual-burst mod." As a meaningful grin crossed my lips, I made my way over to the area and, making use of one of the maintenance entrances where only two bangers were stationed, I decided to make it a little fun. I would rile them up and get them all mad at me and then take them down with my awesome shotgun. So I grabbed one of the (apparently heavy) tall crates and threw it at one of the bangers. I expected it to sort of bounce off of him like most objects did for...some reason, but that is not what happened. Instead, the crate just kept moving in a straight line and his face met the hard concrete of the room in a hurry.
He lay there motionless for moments and I crouched down to move up to him - he was dead. The crate was so heavy and the throw so strong that it killed him and I was almost too shocked for a moment to do anything. Dutifully, however, I grabbed his arm and tugged him around the corner, lest his partner see him. "That had to be a one-time thing," I told myself. "No way could that happen again." So I grabbed the murdercrate and moved over towards his buddy. Once again, I let loose and once again a body met the ground, sufficiently 'body' and less 'living person' as the time before. Suddenly, I flashed to the guy calling me a 'cabròn' and telling me to get out and I remembered his buddies on the other side of the door I was heading towards. I had an idea and it was not a very nice one.
"Fly fly, Cabròn! Bring me bangers to shoot!" I exclaimed, throwing my latest victim several feet into the air and out into the area before the building I had just exited. It may come as a surprise, but a corpse flying through the air at a sustained speed tends to draw attention, so I just pressed my back to the wall next to the doorway and waited. Sure enough, they came to investigate and when one of them was sufficiently close to my little 'bait', I activated the dual-burst and popped out, giving him a little long-distance heart surgery before popping back in and waiting for the gunshot to alert his friends. One by one, they filed over for something a little more close and personal, finding themselves standing in my doorway before being propelled back against the slight railing the platform had, as two or three steps elevated it from the ground. When they were taken care of, it was merely a matter of moving further into the compound, barren of life from my earlier visit. I entertained myself by whistling a jaunty little tune.
Later on, I found myself in a situation where an undercover cop I had been working with informed me that they had all the evidence needed - if I wanted the collar, or just to gloat to the perp before things were over, I was more than free to take a crack. "Yeah. I would like that," I thought. So I went to his apartment building and made it the short trip there with ease. The door was already open from my earlier excursion into there and I quickly took stock of my weapons. Everything was...quite lethal save for my stun gun which I keep for moments just like this. Fortunately for me, this one wanted to have a little chat before we ended things. He knew the noose was tightening and thought credits would grease my palms enough to let go of the rope. He was incorrect.
He drew a revolver, but I was faster and one shock later, he was a heap upon the ground. Almost by instinct, I grabbed his wrist and started dragging him away, heading for the front door. It was only when I was in the little open area in front of the entrance of the apartment, however, that I suddenly questioned what I was doing. He needed to stay here to get cuffed. Though I -knew- he wasn't going to get up, I wanted a little more....insurance, so I considered my options for a moment. I just wanted to make sure he was properly captured and wouldn't be able to regain consciousness before the handcuffs found their way around his wrists. Was that going to happen? No. But I'm Adam friggin' Jensen, I have augmentations and I'm going to use them, damnit.
So I grabbed the refrigerator, moved over to his prone form and promptly dropped the heavy appliance onto his legs. He wobbled a bit and the entire thing ended up tipping over, laying flat across his back and, because of the way he had lay arched, his protruding spine. "There," I thought. "All secured." I briefly checked to make sure my little antics hadn't killed him and, when I was amazed to learn that they didn't, I promptly left to report to my contact. I informed the contact that he was, er, 'taking a nap' and assured them that they weren't going anywhere. And as I walked away, I couldn't help the burst of laughter that overwhelmed me from the truth in my words. I could already imagine them walking in on the scene and wondering how in the hell they were going to get the fridge off of him. It was a good thought.
So, I submit to you the question that comes from all of this. Adam Jensen: Great Jerk? Or Greatest Jerk?