Marathon: Musings of a Runner, pt 1

While still in the midst of blogging through the original Marathon, I’ve just started playing the new Marathon as well. I was hesitant. Reluctant, dubious, skeptical. And I’m still forming my opinion. But the base gameplay is extremely solid and I like the strikingly over the top visual design. What held me back from getting it was that it’s not a narrative campaign like the originals. There are plenty of story bits scattered around the world, but it’s a game of individual runs, matches, rather than the rich story adventure of old.

But then an idea came to me. What if I used this as a writing exercise? What if I made my own little story to complement the game, developed a character and narrated my experience in the game from his perspective? So that’s what I’m doing. To complement my nonfiction blogthrough of the original game, I’ll be writing the fictional diary of my character in the new game. Starting now!

Musings of a Runner.

Log one. Journal? I dunno, I’m still hashing out what to call this thing. Was going to do an audio log, but I don’t have a physical voice anymore on account of my consciousness got digitized and emailed to space, and I haven’t found a synthetic voice that sounds like me yet.

My name’s Roland Durán. Man, I was actually about to write ‘and this is my story.’ What a loser. I guess that’s the first thing to know about me. I’m such a loser that I got faxed out of my body and I don’t even remember why. Seems a lot of my memories didn’t make it.

I grew up on Mars, never settled into a career, bounced around odd jobs. I have vague recollections of getting involved in some shady stuff, but never in an important capacity. Then I fucked up somehow and became Roland.zip and now I’m on Tau Ceti.

So I’m not trying to tell a story. I’m just recording this for anyone who happens across it in case they might find it useful or entertaining.

First thing, it felt like I was being hot glued together one atom at a time by a zillion pairs of hands. The world looked like a disco ball in a blender. Then it was voices, logos, crazy graphic designs hither and goddamn yon. Only at this point did any idea who I was start trickling back into my brain. I mean my mind. I assume my brain is being mixed into public park mulch at this point.

And then bam. Suddenly I’m in a robo body standing in a rainy field with abandoned candy-colored buildings spread out in front of me. I was in my first run. I’m gonna take a break now and fill you in on that in entry two.

Out.

Ugh, ‘out’ sounds so poser badass, doesn’t it? But ‘bye’ or ‘later’ would be trite. Uh…

Signing off?

Fuck it, kinda pompous but I like it.

Signing off.