Save Yourselves!: A Left 4 Dead Multiplayer Diary
12/8/2008 6:49 PM | 6 Comments | Page 4 of 10
And ... this Tank shoots nothing but blanks, apparently. I didn't even get one hit in! How come Tanks are so fearsome when the AI controls them? I'll need to talk about this with my clergyman on Sunday. I do a bit more Boomer ballet, prancing around as much as my bile-filled belly will allow. Jones remarks, "You're very spry for a Boomer." Then, of course, I get shotgunned out of existence.
Orland: I feel like we learned from the other team's zombie attacks, though. Everyone (including the newcomer who replaced the AI Francis) called out what kind of zombie they were, and we tried to use that to our advantage in attacking simultaneously and in the same area. I'm a little bit miffed that I haven't gotten to be a Boomer yet, especially since my Boomer teammates can't seem to hit the broad side of a barn with their vomit. We actually win the round on points by stopping them relatively quickly, but our eight-point margin isn't gonna make up our deficit. We need to do better at surviving!
This guy really wanted to be the one to kill Russ Fischer. Varsity Jacket Zombie will have his revenge on thee, Scott Alexander!
Jones and I both reincarnate as Hunters. We unconsciously tag-team the Survivors. It's like a college co-ed's worst frat house nightmare: Once you get rid of the guy on top of you, there's another slavering monster ready to take his place. I pounce on Russ Fischer and then Marc, and kill both in rapid succession to help win the round. I should have this kind of bloodlust when I do my grocery shopping. "That's my avocado, lady!"
Alexander: Playing as a zombie was a far more gleeful experience than I expected. When you start out un-spawned, invisible among the Survivors, there's a wonderful feeling of superiority, immediately supplanted by the thought, "What would be the most entertaining way to mess with these people?" And the feeling when the tide starts to turn against the Survivors is delirious. Once you get enough of them down and you know the moment is yours, you still have several delicious seconds of clawing, rending, vomiting and strangling. With the infected characters so weak (just a few shots will take you down), you become familiar with the frustration of dying, and the respawn it precipitates. Once you know you've got the bastards where you want them, and that this particular Smoker's going to fight another day, it's hard not to giggle.
Jones: Scott Alexander is a Smoker master. Seriously. He was launching his long tongue all around the level and tugging the unsuspecting off into the woods where he could be alone with them. Shudder.
Fischer: I've seen Alexander do that in real life. It is strangely erotic.
