Alright, children, gather round 'cos it's story time. A long, long time ago, when the universe was young and the First Life had yet to be brought into nascence by the Ancient Ones, I was playing Dishonored. It was the Flooded District bit, which I hate enough on its own, and I was going for a full pacifist run. I thought it was all going well, and I reached the end and breathed a sigh of relief (metaphorically, of course. I know you can't breath in the Mist-Which-Is-Known-As-Time). And then the little report box comes up. You know how it does. With my million eyes I gazed at the stars which made up my screen, and noted with a sadness that would bring about the genesis of thought and emotion as we know it that he little diamondy-doodad next to "Didn't kill anyone" wasn't checked. And now I have to play that whole damn level over again (Yes, I know, save early, save often, but I didn't so shut your face).
ANYWAY! Point being, Graaarg frustration! Tell me about all of your frustrating game experiences, or at least the ones that really stood out as being incredibly frustrating. I crave knowledge. I subsist on thought. Your words are like bread, and you tears are my butter. Vent, child. VENT.
ANYWAY! Point being, Graaarg frustration! Tell me about all of your frustrating game experiences, or at least the ones that really stood out as being incredibly frustrating. I crave knowledge. I subsist on thought. Your words are like bread, and you tears are my butter. Vent, child. VENT.