Death and I are in love.
Videogames have given me a strange obsession with both being the bringer of death, and the recipient of it. Not many bother to subvert the tropes of its digital form.
I’ve written before about how Ben Abraham’s Permanent Death playthrough inspired me to give the game a second chance. Only now that I’ve played it do I realize the brilliance of how it handles it.
In the middle of firefight you collapse to the ground, but before the earth can reclaim you, your good old buddy from Mike’s Bar shows up, heroically dragging you to safety while keeping the others at bay with gunfire. He’ll drop you off in a safe spot, you’ll pick out a bullet from your gaping wounds and jam a syringe in yourself. Then its back to the fight. Run and gun.
The real brilliance of this is that it works the other way around as well. Seeing that purple smoke marker come up in a firefight stings your nerves with mortal terror. You are the invincible man. Your death means nothing. You’ll always be brought back. But your buddy? They are the ones who bring you back, the reason you are still here.
Run and gun.
Run and gun for their life.