Aperture Science Forms FORM-27991563-888: Testchamber Facility After-Action Report
Per your instructions, I have begun to compile the observed and recorded data recovered following the successful completion of testing executed for and by test subject code-named “Chell.” While the repairs to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center may take some time, it is with the utmost confidence that I open this report by saying that that Aperture Science’s Pro-active Operational Realization Testing And Logistics – PORTAL – was, in your words, a huge success.
The operational and ultimate tactical functionality of the Aperture Science Hand-held Portal Device was brought to a highly satisfactory conclusion by “Chell” after her re-activation from her designated relaxation vault. From there she was instructed to proceed through the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center by the administrative system. From the point of this observer, the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System at the heart of this facility – GLaDOS – issued clear and concise directions to this test subject just as with the others that came before. Aside: It may be advisable in future testing environments to monitor the overall output of the GLaDOS Sarcasm Sphere, as it seemed to generate 127.5% of the expected outright fabrication necessary to maintain a dynamic testing environment.
The successful implementation of the Aperture Science Hand-held Portal Device cannot be overstated. The elements of success here are equal parts the brilliant design of the device itself and the instruction on its use through both the intuitive layout of the testchambers and the instruction of GLaDOS. With these elements, the test subject was able to navigate a variety of ever-escalating testchamber environments, from straightforward corridors with simple obstacles to complex platform series carrying penalties up to and including total body disintegration. No tools were provided to assist the test subject save for environmental objects such as storage cubes. The succesful navigation of a given testchamber ultimately came down to the intelligence of the test subject and their grasp of the device’s functionality. While this has been a risk in the past, as user error has contributed to more test subject terminations than any other factor, test subject “Chell” has proven a worthy investment for Aperture Science.
It should also be noted that the Weighted Companion Cube was incinerated in record time by the test subject. It seems that the test subject did not become quite as attached to the Weighted Companion Cube as previous test subjects, despite the Weighted Companion Cube’s endless patience and unwavering support. Aside: the test subject also did not react to the incineration as if the Weighted Companion Cube were screaming in agony while being burned alive as others have. Recommend more research.
Turret systems within the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center may bear notice as a potential flaw in security. Once the test subject was able to master some of the nuances of the Aperture Science Hand-held Portal Device, the turrets were capable of being dispatched in a variety of ways. While it is the policy of Aperture Science to encourge the ingenuity of its test subjects, it is recommended to post more rocket turrets throughout the Enrichment Center, as a possible fail-safe deterrent from further catastrophic damage. Personal emphasis: It would be harder for a test subject to cause catastrophic damage when they’re a smear on the wall. Smears we can clean. Cascading ruptures in space-time are a bit messier.
Noteworthy is the upgraded personality systems of the turrets. Not once did a turret react with anger or frustration towards the test subject. Indeed, the programming of the system throughout the Enrichment Center further reinforced the idea of positive feedback and encouragement, prompting the test subject to continue the testing in the face of overwhelming odds, potential gross bodily harm and extreme pessimism. “Chell” in particular was able to persist in creative thinking and spontaneous bursts of quick reactions allowing for the ‘additional’ testing as mentioned in my previous report (see “Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center Damage Causes, Inventory and Projected Repair Time”).
[Conclusion:] Please attach to test subject “Chell”‘s Personnel File as further evidence to reinforce the note made by yourself – HUGE SUCCESS.
[After-Action Report Addendum:] ‘Stuff I Liked’ included the unique design of the testchambers, the requisite use of brain-power to overcome obstacles and the undercurrent of tragedy surrounding the empty rooms once occupied by (albeit unreliable and ultimately irresponsible) Aperture Science employees.
[After-Action Report Addendum Addendum:] ‘Stuff I Didn’t Like’ [[ERROR 601 FILE NOT FOUND]]
[After-Action Report Conclusion Addendum:] ‘Stuff I Loved’ ranges from the GLaDOS sense of humor to the length of the testing procedure, and includes the music used throughout the Enrichment Center. Recommend third-party contributor ‘Jonathan Coulton’ be honored in some way should he be among the people still alive.
[Final Thought:] It is a pleasure and honor to work within the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center despite having to do so within the confines of [[ERROR 187 FINAL THOUGHT REDACTED]]
[Final Thought PS:] If this were a video game I’d recommend everybody buy it.
[Final Thought PPS:] I further recommend cake be served immediately.
In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I never played the original Team Fortress (now dubbed Team Fortress Classic). I don’t know if I ever had enough friends who also played that could have helped me assemble a decent team. But the appeal of the idea was never lost on me, and with the advent of Team Fortress 2, as part of the Orange Box, the burning coal of an idea concerning team-based class-focused competitive shooter action has been refined to the point of diamond pearlescence.
With an aesthetic that’s one part The Incredibles and one part Sam Peckinpah, Team Fortress 2 introduces us to rival companies Reliable Excavation & Demolition (RED) and Builders League United (BLU). These companies employ a variety of mercenaries in an attempt to secure various construction sites. Some of them are the sources of a valuable resources and others are the secret location of some sensitive documents. Whatever the reason for the spit of land in question to be fought over, RED & BLU reveal themselves to be dedicated to defeating each other to the point of people blowing each other into juicy chunky bits in the name of their employer’s victory. It’d be a somewhat chilling commentary on the cutthroat nature of business and the brutality intelligence agencies are capable of perpetuating, if the game wasn’t so hilariously over-the-top and presented like an animated 60s Bond film with more explosions and less voluptuous women.
The focus here is on the co-operative nature of team game play, and so the aesthetic is designed to ensure that any players class, current weapon and team affiliation are easy to determine at a glance. Because sometimes a glance is all you get before parts of your body are flying in all directions. In a similar mode of thought, the maps of the game are not interested in being visually intricate in the manner of some Halo environments, nor are they the dingy corridors or dank caverns of Gears of War. While most of them tend to be somewhat arid and unadorned by vegetation, they’re also easy to navigate and provide not only open areas for large skirmishes but various ways for players interested in using stealth to get into positions while those laying traps have plenty of spots from which to choose. Speaking of which, the classes bear particular mention, in that the phrase “something for everybody” has never been more true in a gaming sense.
Awesome comes in a variety of flavors.
The nine classes are broken into three broad categories: Offensive, Defensive and Support. Offensive classes are all about taking the fight to the enemy. The Scout is concerned with speed first and foremost, getting right into an opponents face and either blasting them with a sawed-off shotgun or beating them into a pulp with a bat. The Soldier uses a rocket launcher at range, a shotgun close-up, and a shovel when maggots just get too close to the guy’s war face. The final offensive class is the Pyro, who not only pushes back enemies with their flamethrower but can also light invisible spies on fire just as much as everybody else. Defensive classes, on the other hand, are designed to make sure that getting close to them is a bad idea. When it comes to blowing things up, the Demoman is unmatched, using either standard grenades from a launcher to blast oncoming threats or sticky ones to lay traps for unwary intruders. Fans of flying bullets and a metric fuckton of health need look no further than the Heavy, whose multi-barreled companion Sascha mows down the opposition as the player takes on the role of mobile wall of enemy deterrent. The Engineer is more of a stationary defender, building sentry guns of ever-escalating power and complexity in order to dissuade anybody from the other time from getting close. Finally, the Support classes are those that fall into neither offensive nor defensive roles exclusively, but exhibit flexibility in their specialization. Paramiliary units wouldn’t last long without a Medic, and this class is just as much at home supporting an offensive push as standing behind the Heavy to ensure there’s no shortage of gatling-flavored death for all comers. The Sniper can perch either over an area where his shots will clear the way for an offensive push or back by the friendly objective to create a place full of would-be infiltrators. Last but certainly not least is the Spy, the gentlemanly backstabber who must carefully choose when and where to reveal themselves regardless of whether they’re sneaking into an enemy base, pouncing on the stragglers in an assault or sabotaging a nest of defenses.
If you’re at all interested in shooting stuff with or at other people, chances are one of these classes will be up whatever alley happens to be yours.
“One of you ate my sandvich! I know it! I MAKE YOU CRY SOME MORE!”
Given its emphasis on co-operative play, Team Fortress 2 is one of those games best played with people you know. This can be a group of friends or an organization like a clan or guild, but either way, my experience has been that randomly joined games are nowhere near as fun as those played with folks with whom you’re familiar. Given the pervasiveness of verbal abuse and elitism among on-line game players, especially on Xbox Live, joining a random game of Team Fortress 2 might just turn some people off of the concept. Mastering any one of the game’s classes takes practice, and doing so in an environment where you’re being reminded of how much you suck can be quite a deterrent. Then again, that could just be my opinion, given that somewhere along the line I turned into a big fluffy care bear.
Regardless, if you can find a bunch of people playing on the same platform, seeing a plan come together in Team Fortress 2 can be a fun and rewarding experience. If nothing else, the way in which the game is presented makes it notable, unique and downright awesome. The gameplay itself might not be for everyone, but I’d be surprised if there was someone out there who didn’t appreciate the time, effort and sheer amount of fun represented by the various Meet the Team videos. It’s difficult to find anything overtly critical to say about an online shooter focused on co-op play that’s balanced between the disparate roles people might wish to play, and I’ve yet to play the Steam version that includes updates with unlockable weapons and costume changes. So, instead, here’s that picture of the Sniper again, because if I do dive back into Steam to play Team Fortress 2 in the near future, you’ll likely find me donning a hat decorated with ‘gator teeth and keeping my eyes peeled for those pesky Spies.
Stuff I Liked: Balanced classes in co-operative setting under the pretty peerless direction of Valve. Stuff I Didn’t Like: Again, it’s a personal thing, but some of the people in random games who trash-talk new players just for being new & inexperienced really rubbed me the wrong way. Stuff I Loved Love: The aesthetic, spirit and mentality of this game and its ongoing production makes me strongly inclined to give it another go as soon as I can afford to download it via Steam.
Bottom Line: Well, I just said I’m going to find a way to get it on Steam, which is probably about as definitive a recommendation as I can muster. I don’t want to discourage Xbox owners from playing, either, and if you find a few of you are on a server hosted by Xbox Live, drop me a line. I just might show up.
I was raised playing games like Chess, Battleship, Squad Leader, Risk and War of the Ring. I still love playing tabletop strategy games with my dad. It keeps my mind sharp, it’s quality time with a parent, and a great opportunity to talk smack at someone I deeply love and respect. Especially when a Xanatos Gambit of mine pays off and he’s left staring at the board uttering curses out of earshot of my mother.
Competition among peers is a good thing. Iron sharpening iron, pushing oneself to become better at a chosen passion, blah blah achievement blah blah brotherhood blee. It’s true for video games as much as it is for those played among people with whom you share eye contact and can harass while they get up to grab a fresh beer. I used to love player versus player online as much as I do at the card table. But as time went on, I found myself slowly becoming more and more dissatisfied with PvP in general and online PvP in particular, to the point that nowadays the only competitive game-playing I do is with my dad on the rare occasion we get to sit down together. Most of my video-game playing has become something I do just with myself, which could be descriptions of many of my daily activities, some of which I won’t mention here for family-friendly reasons.
What happened? How did I fall out of love with PvP? When did I become such a despicable care bear?
There’s only one way to find out.
The College Days
“The exam can wait. These CTs and their damn tripmines are going DOWN.”
There was a time when my evenings in college were spent studyingbeing responsiblewriting letters to my mom sitting in the dark playing Counter-Strike. For hours on end I’d mince into the maps, pick out my favorite weapons from whichever side I’d chosen, and proceed to rampage from one place to another trying to edge out a win. It was especially fun when more than one of us in the apartment were playing on the same game, because shouted obscenities from the other room would make me grin. And when I saw the big shape of a flatmate coming around the corner at me, I knew I was in trouble, but I was still laughing about it even as I took my licks.
Even before that, in a more innocent time, the tight-knit community of the BBS is was really turned me on to online multi-player. Trade Wars taught me never to be logged out for too long if I could help it, because sooner or later somebody was going to blow up my hard-earned ship to try and get to the creamy commodity center inside. This feeling was invoked lately in my trial of Alien Assault Traders, where I spent an evening gawking at my screen because when I wasn’t looking, somebody blew up my damn planet. More accurately, they scoured my base from orbit (with me inside) and set up their own. Revenge shall be mine…
Anyway, that’s how I got my start with this sort of thing, back when the games and I were a bit more innocent, I suppose.
How Halo Changed Things
NerdyShirts actually makes teabagging look kinda cute.
At first, Halo seemed like a great thing. Either playing co-op with a friend split-screen or on a private server run by a co-worker, I was reminded of those heady days at Bloosmburg. There was friendly competition, the occasional jibe when being at the business end of a killing spree, the whole bit. Then, one day, I tried out the online random game-joining multi-player.
Now, maybe this is my fault for not researching or joining any clans. Maybe I didn’t get enough practice switching between the two weapons Master Chief can carry at any one time. Maybe I was spoiled by single-player campaigns where attacks that actually got past the Spartan’s armor just caused me to duck behind something solid until my health regenerated, because AI baddies never seemed savvy enough to flush me out with a grenade. But it seemed that whenever I signed into a random Halo MP game, I’d be at it for all of two minutes before I’d be clubbed, teabagged and verbally taunted by someone who sounded like a rat on helium squeaking at me from the bottom of a well about how I’d been ‘pwned’.
As trendy as it might be to hate on Halo these days, I think this was what turned me off to most PvP, at least when it came to shooters. There are folks out there who play this game professionally. It’s their job to improve their skills, find the best perches to drop grenades on someone, master the art of vehicular homicide (with Warthogs in the game of course) and make their teabagging appear to have all the grace and poise of an ice dancing routine (not a big stretch). More power to them, I say. If I could make a living playing video games all day, you can bet your teabag I’d do it in a heartbeat. And again, maybe this is due to joining random games instead of finding a clan or something, but I’d try not to be mean about it. I mean, laughing a bit at a particularly nasty kill is one thing, especially when you can laugh at your own when your buddy gets his revenge. Being the butt of homophobic rape jokes for hours on end is quite another. It just gets really old really fast.
Where’s the incentive to play in order to improve my skills if all the other players are just going to tell me how much I suck? And if they’re already at that level of skill, how much further along will they be when I finally get to said level?
Maybe I’m just a soft, mewling big girl’s blouse of a gamer for saying this, but all of the fun of an experience is drained away when I spend half of my time watching a respawn timer count down while watching a teenager defile my corpse and listening to his brand of humor spew into my ear without any recourse on my part other than trying to best him (an effort which almost always fails) or ragequitting.
WoW’s Ubiquitous Grind Machine
Considering what an RP nerd I am, it’s no surprise that I almost always played World of Warcraft on RP servers. Even there, you can find PvP. Given that role-playing is a largely social undertaking, and it’s best done with a group of like-minded individuals, it follows that some of one’s friends from the community would share an interest in PvP. However, since WoW is an MMORPG, any undertaking in it outside of purely social interaction means one thing, and one thing only.
Grinding.
Now, when I say ‘grinding’, I don’t mean killing thousands of rats over and over again, though that certainly is the case when it comes to building experience. In the case of PvP, at least in World of Warcraft, grinding means going into battlegrounds repeatedly, trying to build up badges and reputation to purchase better equipment, and ascending to the point where you and a handful of trusted friends – between one and four – can enter the arena and leave the battlegrounds behind. But once you get into the arena, you must again climb a ladder of points and reputation to ensure that your opponents do not outstrip you in terms of equipment.
There’s also the chance that entering the arena will reveal that you’ve been “doing it wrong” for quite a while. Battlegrounds tend to be more forgiving in terms of people not knowing how best to play their class. Arenas, on the other hand, have a much narrower margin for error, and every loss is a costly one. While one’s arena partners tend to be more forgiving, provided you’re not jumping into a random one, there’s still the matter of the gap between you and the shiny new pair of shoes you need to increase your resilience rating widening because you got snared and blasted into oblivion when you really should have known better. It’s less immediately enraging than getting teabagged by an adolescent, but more disheartening because you’re getting teabagged by the system.
It was a feeling, a salty sweaty taste in my mouth, that I couldn’t shake. I tried Warhammer Online, Aion, Star Trek Online, and in each case, I felt I was staring down a long dark corridor of PvP grinding with no end in sight and the server’s hungry grues waiting to devour my free time, my hard-earned cash and my will to live.
Yes, yes, I know, boo hoo, stupid whiny care bear, let’s move on.
The Across-The-Table Factor
Some things are just better with beer ale.
I think part of the problem I ran into was the inability to see the people with whom I was playing. I don’t know a lot of the people I meet online personally. Folks in a WoW guild I can kind of get to know but I’m still never sure how they’ll behave under pressure in a competitive situation, or how they’ll react to me when I inevitably mess up. It’s even worse jumping into random online shooter game sessions.
It’s a shame, too, because some of the best experiences I’ve had playing with others have been in competitive situations. Games of Munchkin, Chrononauts, Puerto Rico and the other aforementioned board games quickly become tirades of “I can’t believe you did that!” speeches framed with raucous laughter. Even something like poker or blackjack can have this esprit de corps, this feeling of competition among peers. It’s something that I’ve found lacking in a lot of PvP experiences.
There’s Hope. I Think.
“Hmm… looks like he’s going to try this multi-player malarkey again.”
I think really have been doing something wrong. My enjoyment, or more pointedly the lack thereof, in a lot of these situations really comes down to me not finding a good group of people with whom to play. I haven’t been thinking about getting into situations where I’m in a game with people I know who’ll have my back when things go rotten. At least, I wasn’t. But I’ve refocused my thoughts on this from “what’s wrong with other people” to “what am I doing wrong?” The answer, as far as I can tell, is not being discriminatory in whom I spend time with in a multiplayer/PvP environment. It’s why I’m looking to get an Alien Assault Traders server going on this domain. And judging by the number of hits I got the last time I discussed Trade Wars, I think some of the people who’d join it would be people I know. Having my base scoured from the surface of a planet I created will be a lot less difficult to swallow when I can call, Tweet or otherwise directly harangue the friend in question with promises of revenge worthy of Shatner in Wrath of Khan.
The same could be said for Team Fortress 2. In a game where teamwork and supporting one another is emphasized so heavily, joining a random game and trying to depend on a stranger seems counter-intuitive. Most of people I know who play do so on the PC, meaning I’d be unable to join them since my copy of the Orange Box is for a console. Still, Steam has sales from time to time and if I can snag the game during one, I’m sure I can find people I know well enough from the Escapist or another walk of life whom I can trust to keep too many Spies from stabbing me while I’m trying to line up a shot on a particularly troublesome Heavy.
In spite of some negative reviews regarding it, I’ve been asked by a friend to try out Borderlands. Provided I can hang with said friend on a regular basis during the game, it might not be so bad. I’m trepidatious given my previous experience, but I figure it’s worth a shot if I’m playing with people I know.
Finally, I’m sure I’ll be playing an MMORPG again at some point. But I’m not going to be playing one by myself. I’m returning to my stance of finding one my wife and I can agree upon and I’m sticking to it. Because if there’s anybody on this planet from whom I should be able to endure some smack talk, it’d be my blushing bride.
After the success of the main game, Valve embarked upon an experiment in episodic gaming, the first portion of which I’ve already reviewed. The second was the keystone in the Orange Box release, and having played it, it’s clear to see why it featured so prominently. The immersion and pacing that made the previous Half-Life titles so singular continues to fire on all cylinders, and while it’s still somewhat short it’s no less satisfying to play than the previous episode.
If this Strider could speak, it’d likely say “OH SHI-“
Half-Life 2 Episode 2 begins literally where the first episode left us, in the wreckage of a train leaving City 17. Gordon and Alyx are now outside the city limits, in the wilderness surrounding the metropolis where they spent most of the last 2 games. The core of the Citadel, having reached critical mass at the end of Episode 1, is now channeling power into an ominous ‘superportal’ hovering over the city. The data that allows the aperture to remain open is crucial to preventing a further invasion by the villainous Combine, and Alyx has a copy of that data. To halt the Combine war effort and give humanity a chance, Gordon and Alyx must get the data to the old missile complex known as White Forest, where Black Mesa scientists may have finally gotten an edge on the Combine war machine.
While Episode 1 focused on character development, the second installment takes on the themes of exploration and free-form battles. From crawling through the squick-inducing tunnels of the antlion hive to driving at entirely unsafe speeds through the forest in the Muscle Car, Episode 2 expands the world of Half-Life 2 far beyond City 17’s limits. There are some moments of tranquility amongst the chaos of war, and when battles break out there is no one correct way to proceed. Setting traps, rushing in headlong and luring enemies into sniper-friendly locations are all viable options. Antlion workers appear for the first time, giving the insectoid race some long-range support, and then there are the Hunters.
Is the Hunter a portent of things to come?
The battle involving both Hunters and Striders working together makes for a pulse-pounding experience, as the player rushes from one hotspot to the next to prevent the Combine from destroying all of the effort made by the Resistance to mount a reasonable counter-offensive, to say nothing of Gordon’s friends. It’s easily the most ambitious battle sequence Half-Life has featured in any of its titles, and it rivals any of the similar sequences of games in the Halo and Gears of War franchises in terms of scale, pacing, tactics and consequences.
The best part of Half-Life 2 Episode 2, for me at least, are little things that expanded upon the story and added to that sense of immersion. The vortigaunts play a major role in the episode’s events, we get the sense that humanity is definitely no longer taking the Combine occupation laying down and there is the triumphant return of D0g. It would have been even better if we knew what happened to Barney Calhoun following his escape from City 17 with his fellow Resistance members, or if Episode 2 had not ended as it did when it did. Which is not to say the ending is bad – it’s actually pretty phenomenal. I just hope Valve will forgive us for throwing controllers and screaming in frustration because that’s how it ended and we’re still waiting for Episode 3???
Good d0g.
As an aside: Is it just me, or did using a crossbow and a vintage muscle car make anybody else feel like Willem Dafoe in Daybreakers?
Stuff I Liked: Valve’s creativity is still center-stage, with the dialog, the area design, the intelligence of enemies, the Magnusson Devices, killing Hunters with their own flechettes… I could go on. Stuff I Didn’t Like: DAMMIT VALVE, WHERE’S THE REST OF THE GODDAMN STORY? Stuff I Loved: Half-Life 2 and its episodes has some of the strongest characterization I’ve ever seen in a first-person shooter. I want to play more of these games, or just play the Orange Box titles over again, just to spend more time around them. Even the new guy, Magnusson, has an interesting personality, though it borders on the insufferable at times.
Bottom Line: What do you mean, you don’t own The Orange Box yet? Here, let me illustrate my point a bit more clearly, I just need to find my crowbar…
There is no drama without tension, so the saying goes. And there are very few things that build tension than a well-crafted atmosphere.
Considering how hectic my day’s been, I could just end the post there and be on my merry way, but I feel it’s necessary to elaborate for a variety of reasons. So, here goes.
There’s a part in the early stages of Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines where you must enter a supposedly haunted hotel and retrieve an item of importance to both the local baron and to the spectre inhabiting the building. The sequence of events that take place in that hotel can only be described as “harrowing.” Between the music, sound design, lighting and use of the game engine, an atmosphere of sheer terror is built, infusing the scene with tension without a single shot needing to be fired and no dialog spoken above a whisper. To this day, the thought of going into that digital hotel gives me pause.
The bit I played through last night in Half-Life 2 Episode 2 applies. The antlion hive is just downright creepy. Eternal Darkness is another good example of a game building atmosphere, as is Silent Hill 2, part of a series of games based on the real-life town of Centralia right here in Pennsylvania. I’ve driven through that town on more than one occasion, folks, and let me tell you the most sensible thing to do is just keep on driving. This sort of setting is also the inspiration for many of the works in the World of Darkness, and Storytellers would be well-advised to rely upon such sources.
Conveying atmosphere in writing alone can be difficult. You have no way of relating the sight, sound or smell of something outside of words. And yet there are those who have proven themselves masters of printed palpable dread. Lovecraft, for example, and Stephen King to a lesser extent. Tolkien’s descriptions of the balrog and Shelob can be chilling, to say nothing of the reaction of millions of fans at the appearance of Voldemort in the books of Harry Potter.
Let’s have a few more examples. Who scares you, as a writer? What do you think about when you want to convey a certain atmosphere? How do you channel dread, or fear, or despair into a written work?
Go ahead and give me your thoughts. I’ll be waiting. Watching.
