Taking fire, casting Fire
It was just the two of us. Intel gave estimations between thirty and fifty on the streets alone.
Just thinking in the constant fall of sirens and car alarms was difficult in itself; we had to think faster than before, and there was zero room for error. It's not that we were surrounded, no. We were sardines waiting to get served--but fuck that, terrorists were holding Las Vegas hostage. Rainbow was on the job.
I slammed my shoulder into a SUV and began covering fire toward a mounted machine gun. A different kind of rain fell on us. Molten lead.
The latest Tom Clancy game Rainbow Six: Vegas has the familiar counter-terrorist team fighting one of the most bizarre enemies yet; former Mexican drug leaders are in full mass in Nevada's city of the same name, and they came well prepared. The game involves hostage rescue, bomb disarming and the usual fare in the bright city, but its turned gameplay and vital teamplay aspects turn the genre on its ear and easily becomes a must-have for those with tactics and teammates in mind.
Kissa and I recently finished the 'story' mode, if it can be called such; it seems more loading a level and being given a task rather than interacting with the game's characters and directly taking part in the story. It's an odd decision, certainly. Places in which cutscenes should be are simply naked and you're left with a lot of silent airtime or rushed into the next scene. Weird stuff, but not deal-breaking. And you get the jist of it.
The past two days, though, were spent extremely well. I'd gotten paid on Thursday (I'd have commented on getting said job were it not for the depresson), and a few weeks prior had requested the 7th and 9th off (given employment is closed Sundays). So, we went to Oklahoma City to enjoy some decidedly civil civilization. Given that we're still in Oklahoma, it didn't really happen that way, but it was closer than nothing. The mall was enjoyable until I remembered what malls were--wall-to-wall stores for fucking clothing, and then some stores with other overpriced goods. They had a GameStop, though, so I perused until I found Final Fantasy for the PSP. More on that later.
Kissa found no more than two maternity stores; the first of which she was unaware of the second, so we spent a fair amount of money in it. The clothing was admittedly nice enough, but fuck-all expensive. It was a 'sale,' though, so 'bend over motherfucker' turned to 'let me lube up a sec--mind assuming the position?' We ate afterward, then discovered the second maternity store. The clothing was (generally) cheaper, and sort of had a higher-class Wal-Mart feel to it. So we spent about the same amount there. Being subjected to either or would have been fine enough, but a combination of the two demolished my wallet. At least she's pregnant for another whole five months.
We fled after searching high and low for Dippin' Dots, my own little salvation on Earth. We attempted the Marriott, and some other higher-standard hotel (Sheraton? Wasn't Hilton...). Both had inflated 'weekend-rates.' Back to given bent-over analogies. Fine, we thought, the Holiday Inn Express has to be cheaper. It wasn't. But Kissa wasn't going to give in to my need to not spend a tonfuck of money to spend the night, so we took it. Oh, and they had a deal where you could give them your number and email address and they'd probably sell it to telemarketers. But that was okay, because you saved a little money on each visit. Like I cared.
We instantly regretted it (well, I did 'n she seemed dismissive); there was technically a pool, yes, but its seemingly permanent residents were all but screaming children. It's simply astounding how long a child's vocal chords can carry on pure, unfettered loudness in acousticly ear-fucking rooms. And for the price (identical to the Marriotts), neither room service nor a goddamned refrigerator was offered. The vending machine, naturally, was out of order and determined to nom green bills in exchange for nada. So, in short, 'Express' means 'bend over--we'll charge you full price and give you less, because we're express!'
But Final Fantasy! Luckily, I had the foresight to bring my PSP. Un-luckily, I didn't bring its charger 'cause Kissa was bull-rushing everyone out the door that morning. So we goofed on that before bed: I made a Warrior and a Red, while she made a White Mage and a Thief. We got our first few levels, wandered into the dungeon and saved Cornelia's princess before the battery died. I really appreciated everything being redone, though, and the extra little animations and features (the monster catalogue <3) really helps the atmosphere. Easily worth thirty of your American pesos if you've got a PSP.
Just thinking in the constant fall of sirens and car alarms was difficult in itself; we had to think faster than before, and there was zero room for error. It's not that we were surrounded, no. We were sardines waiting to get served--but fuck that, terrorists were holding Las Vegas hostage. Rainbow was on the job.
I slammed my shoulder into a SUV and began covering fire toward a mounted machine gun. A different kind of rain fell on us. Molten lead.
The latest Tom Clancy game Rainbow Six: Vegas has the familiar counter-terrorist team fighting one of the most bizarre enemies yet; former Mexican drug leaders are in full mass in Nevada's city of the same name, and they came well prepared. The game involves hostage rescue, bomb disarming and the usual fare in the bright city, but its turned gameplay and vital teamplay aspects turn the genre on its ear and easily becomes a must-have for those with tactics and teammates in mind.
Kissa and I recently finished the 'story' mode, if it can be called such; it seems more loading a level and being given a task rather than interacting with the game's characters and directly taking part in the story. It's an odd decision, certainly. Places in which cutscenes should be are simply naked and you're left with a lot of silent airtime or rushed into the next scene. Weird stuff, but not deal-breaking. And you get the jist of it.
The past two days, though, were spent extremely well. I'd gotten paid on Thursday (I'd have commented on getting said job were it not for the depresson), and a few weeks prior had requested the 7th and 9th off (given employment is closed Sundays). So, we went to Oklahoma City to enjoy some decidedly civil civilization. Given that we're still in Oklahoma, it didn't really happen that way, but it was closer than nothing. The mall was enjoyable until I remembered what malls were--wall-to-wall stores for fucking clothing, and then some stores with other overpriced goods. They had a GameStop, though, so I perused until I found Final Fantasy for the PSP. More on that later.
Kissa found no more than two maternity stores; the first of which she was unaware of the second, so we spent a fair amount of money in it. The clothing was admittedly nice enough, but fuck-all expensive. It was a 'sale,' though, so 'bend over motherfucker' turned to 'let me lube up a sec--mind assuming the position?' We ate afterward, then discovered the second maternity store. The clothing was (generally) cheaper, and sort of had a higher-class Wal-Mart feel to it. So we spent about the same amount there. Being subjected to either or would have been fine enough, but a combination of the two demolished my wallet. At least she's pregnant for another whole five months.
We fled after searching high and low for Dippin' Dots, my own little salvation on Earth. We attempted the Marriott, and some other higher-standard hotel (Sheraton? Wasn't Hilton...). Both had inflated 'weekend-rates.' Back to given bent-over analogies. Fine, we thought, the Holiday Inn Express has to be cheaper. It wasn't. But Kissa wasn't going to give in to my need to not spend a tonfuck of money to spend the night, so we took it. Oh, and they had a deal where you could give them your number and email address and they'd probably sell it to telemarketers. But that was okay, because you saved a little money on each visit. Like I cared.
We instantly regretted it (well, I did 'n she seemed dismissive); there was technically a pool, yes, but its seemingly permanent residents were all but screaming children. It's simply astounding how long a child's vocal chords can carry on pure, unfettered loudness in acousticly ear-fucking rooms. And for the price (identical to the Marriotts), neither room service nor a goddamned refrigerator was offered. The vending machine, naturally, was out of order and determined to nom green bills in exchange for nada. So, in short, 'Express' means 'bend over--we'll charge you full price and give you less, because we're express!'
But Final Fantasy! Luckily, I had the foresight to bring my PSP. Un-luckily, I didn't bring its charger 'cause Kissa was bull-rushing everyone out the door that morning. So we goofed on that before bed: I made a Warrior and a Red, while she made a White Mage and a Thief. We got our first few levels, wandered into the dungeon and saved Cornelia's princess before the battery died. I really appreciated everything being redone, though, and the extra little animations and features (the monster catalogue <3) really helps the atmosphere. Easily worth thirty of your American pesos if you've got a PSP.
posted by Roddra at 21:21
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