Dead Space – Screen Cuisine http://www.screencuisine.net Movies, TV, Internet, Video Games, and E-Books Wed, 13 Jun 2012 02:56:25 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.5.2 Engineer Sure Wishes He Could See His Spine-Mounted Health Meter http://www.screencuisine.net/firstpersonobserver/local/engineer-sure-wishes-he-could-see-his-spine-mounted-health-meter/ http://www.screencuisine.net/firstpersonobserver/local/engineer-sure-wishes-he-could-see-his-spine-mounted-health-meter/#comments Thu, 29 Apr 2010 14:17:48 +0000 http://www.firstpersonobserver.com/?p=89

USG Ishimura, Aegis 7– An engineer battling hordes of mutated Necromorphs aboard the planetary mining ship Ishimura sure wishes he could see the health meter built onto the back of his spacesuit.

“Who designed this stupid spacesuit?” asked Isaac Clarke, a systems engineer, while whirling around and craning his neck in an effort to view his own back. “They built the health meter on the spine? Really? On the spine? Who is this supposed to be useful for, someone standing behind me?”

Clarke was stationed aboard the USG Kellion, which was dispatched to the Ishimura to repair their malfunctioning communications array. After the Kellion crashed into the massive planetary mining ship, Clarke quickly found himself alone and surrounded by the twisted, reanimated corpses of the former crew of the Ishimura. Armed only with mining tools and fighting for his life, Clarke sure would like to know the status of his health and how close he is to dying.

“As an engineer, I don’t believe in form over function,” he said. “I guess the designer of the suit didn’t want to clutter my visor screen with data, or something. But building the heath meter on the back of my suit, where I can’t see it, while space-saving and aesthetically pleasing, isn’t exactly useful for me, the guy wearing the suit and wondering how close to death he is.”

“Is it blue? Is it red? I have no idea. I’m definitely on a need-to-know basis with how close I am to my own death, but unless I find a mirror or maybe someone to follow me around, walking behind and slightly to the side of me, constantly pointing out how badly injured I am in a loud voice, it’s gonna continue to be a flippin’ mystery.”

“Hey, random necromorph!” Clarke yelled sarcastically to the darkened, labyrinthine corridors of the ship. “If you’re creeping up behind me, before you rend me to bloody ribbons with your claws, maybe you could let me know my health status. Since I have no idea what it is. That’d be great. If you could do that.”

“Thanks,” he added.

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