Could my luck with video games get any worse?
Started playing Prototype again, first time in about seven months. And like I expected, it didn't turn out as well as people claimed.
Aside from the glitchy, almost inferior controls (I liked Assassin's Creed better, because at least you didn't move so fast that you might attract the attention of the armed forces littered around New York, and plus, Ezio actually listens to his controls), the only part about this game I liked was that I got to upgrade with fluent frequency. But, as must all good things, this tirade of upgrading soon dwindled to a standstill, because I couldn't seem to complete the mission where I have to lure McMullin out, then run like bloody hell and hide under a bridge when he doesn't fall for my little trick. And why can't I complete this mission?
Oh, it's quite simple, mates. They send in like, an endless stream of soldiers, tanks, APCs, helicopters, detector droids, and the infected Hunters seemed to think that aggravating the situation further was helping my case any.
Well, bloody hello to you too, Elizabeth Greene.
I finally got past that mission, and wonder of wonders, I almost immediately get cheap shot by a Specialist with a grenade launcher, a shock stick, and a host of soldier buddies and infected pissants. And despite winning the fight, he basically throws out his wild card before he's depleted his hand and stabs me in the back with a needle that basically gives me Protagonist Cancer.
(I should write a TV Tropes article for that...)
I finally cure the cancer after putting up with Raglend's bullshite complaints that I apparently was too blind to see the hordes of infected coming RIGHT THE HELL AT ME, and for compensation, I get a cool suit of armor, and a sword arm.
That soon prove to be USELESS.
Over all, I don't recall ever hating a game as hard as I hate this, and Eragon doesn't count. But Prototype has just taken the gold, mates.
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