Fear not, I am not about to make any outrageous claims about my ‘mad skillz’. When I address my repertoire of FPS ability, I remember the needed conditions for my victories. I am not about to describe to you, in glorified detail, my valiant kills and desirable skills. There are requirements for my success. I cannot, by my sheer presence, make all the players on the other team cry into their controllers in an attempt to console themselves in their own ludicrous incredulity. Neither am I one of those players who make your killcam fill with heavenly light, cause a disruption in time, a divine intervention, to make the impossible plausible. I am not a pace-changing virtuoso in any terms.

I take advantage. In a hideous and cruel way, I take advantage.



There is a certain environment in which I can shine. When those rare incidents occur that two teams try to better each other competitively, I perform well. In truth, I am the last to support my team in any shape or form; I abhor the idea of gallantly taking part in the common goals and objectives. Instead, I swiftly pace the map in hunt of my own prey. In such a situation, I excel. I prove diligent in picking off the stragglers, the ones who aren’t expecting an adversary in such a close and cramped corner of, Favela, for instance. In contrast, when I find myself in a match where my team is flailing in the face of the enemy skill, the environment is not so sweet, and I don’t shine so bright. When the other team have the upper-hand, I fail, and I fail hard.

The perk and class system allow such variation and customization in styles, and also gives way for an outfit that is hated by many, but loved by a select few. I play in a way much like blitzkrieg. I do not tally, or hide in wait, or set claymores and snipe. I run and don’t stop running. Hence, when the other team is playing inordinately well, they are alert and defensive, and my stratagem can fail. There is, unquestionably, a specific structure which helps to add to this strategy, a certain format in which I make this expertise work.

Penny Arcade highlighted it once:


http://www.penny-arcade.com/comic/2009/11/30/

Yeh, I’m that guy. It’s how I do.

I have faced much verbal abuse for my choices, and in a corner of grim realisation, I know this ‘expertise’ lies in being an absolute jerk to my team. I never join in the ‘push’, and I abandon all ambition of setting up formidable team ploys in my desire for personal gain. I play for the havoc, and my resolve is excellent when exploiting everyone else who attempt to play co-operatively. In instances of purile and acquainted bliss, when a group of people come together against a common enemy - the kind that rarely occurs - I am hiding in the rafters, planning my personal flight of fancy after my chosen ‘bitch’.



I would like to, on a final note, clear some possible misconceptions up. I am not a big fan of the FPS genre, and do not claim to be. I normally stick to those that get a 90+ review rating on the majority of credible sites. I don’t dabble with said genre very often, and my time is spent burrowed in the majority of other game types out there. I would also, normally, consider myself quite average at shooters, yet in this endeavour, in this specified undertaking, I manage to hold my own, and do well at something I am otherwise pretty mediocre at. I have a reasonable competence in this one particular game of a great many, and the cries of outrage when a match winning kill shows a guy getting knifed in the face works to provide such a superb level of satisfaction, I cannot put it into words.