Survival Is Earned. Chaos Is Documented.
What skill would you like to learn?
Actual wilderness survival. I spend hours in The Long Dark boiling unsafe water, hunting rabbits, and making fires out of sticks — but in real life, I’d probably struggle to light a campfire without a lighter. Learning the real thing might make my digital disasters even funnier by comparison.
(Plenty more survival skills I still don’t have at Survivor Incognito.)
What details of your life could you pay more attention to?
Probably the small things — like remembering I left coffee on the counter, or that my character in The Long Dark is freezing because I got distracted writing notes. In games and in life, the little details usually decide whether it’s a smooth run or a spectacular disaster.
(Plenty more missed details and memorable disasters at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s your #1 priority tomorrow?
Survive the day without a permadeath moment — in real life or in-game. Whether it’s dodging actual deadlines or digital wolves, my main goal tomorrow is to get through it with enough stories (and caffeine) to write about later.
(Plenty more day-to-day survival priorities at Survivor Incognito.)
In what ways does hard work make you feel fulfilled?
Hard work feels fulfilling when it turns into stories. Whether it’s hours of hauling logs in SnowRunner or barely surviving a week in The Long Dark, the grind pays off when there’s a tale worth telling. Real life or digital, the effort feels lighter once I can laugh about it later.
(Plenty more hard-earned disasters turned stories at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s the trait you value most about yourself?
My sense of humour. It’s what gets me through both real life and permadeath runs. If I can laugh after being flattened by a moose in The Long Dark or rolling my truck in SnowRunner, then I’m doing alright.
(Plenty more laughable disasters turned stories at Survivor Incognito.)
The morning began with me jogging toward the latest house that Trader Rekt wanted looted for supplies. From the outside, it looked quiet — shutters drawn, roof sagging slightly, just another abandoned suburban home. But this is 7 Days to Die, so I knew the interior would be less “suburban charm” and more “screaming corpses.”
Sure enough, as soon as I hit the flag at the back of the property and stepped inside, the soundscape turned into a zombie alarm clock. Two of them barreled toward me, cutting off my escape. I managed to fight my way out, but not without a parting gift: infection. Perfect.
After clearing the stragglers and pocketing the supplies, I searched my pack for antibiotics. Nothing. A return trip to Papaw Residence confirmed the same — unless you count decorative piles of junk and a near-useless jar of murky water. But buried in a chest was salvation: honey. Exactly the right cure for my low-level infection. Bee magic saves the day.
I staggered back to Rekt’s, handed over the supplies, and chose skill books as my reward. Then I spent some coin on more honey, because clearly zombies see me as a chew toy. Another fetch quest? Why not. This one sent me toward what looked like a pop-up medical centre — white tarps, overturned stretchers, and the distinct impression that the last patients didn’t leave voluntarily.
The zombies inside were fewer and slower, which suited my still-throbbing wounds. Looting the shelves, I stumbled on something that felt like Christmas morning: a cooking grill. Finally, the days of choking down charred snake meat are behind me. Now I can prepare food that doesn’t taste like it came out of a campfire accident.
I cleared the building, snagged the supplies, and returned to Rekt. My reward? Charred meat. Honestly, I think the man is trolling me. “Here’s some food, survivor.” Yes, Rekt, I literally just looted the thing that makes your reward obsolete. Thanks for nothing, champ.
Back at Papaw, I started eyeing my supplies. Between yesterday’s scavenging and today’s haul, I realised I was close to crafting a Dew Collector. After a bit more rummaging and resource-gathering, the parts came together. I placed the contraption outside, whispered a hopeful prayer to the condensation gods, and waited.
After five minutes of staring at a metal bucket with mesh, I admitted that Dew Collectors are not exciting to watch in real time. With thirst still an issue, I decided to channel my boredom into base-building. The first layer of the horde base is now fully cobblestone. The second layer is patchwork, half cobble, half wood. The third layer? Still dreams and dust. At least I can say progress is being made, even if it looks more like a construction site than a fortress.
The Dew Collector is great in theory, but water production is glacial. By mid-afternoon I was dehydrated again — stumbling around with blurry vision like I’d been on a pub crawl with the undead. Tomorrow, water is priority number one. Either the trader sells me a stash, or I’m boiling every murky puddle I find.
Still, the looming problem isn’t just thirst. It’s the horde night clock. Day 4 is practically here, and my base is still an empty shell. If I don’t switch gears soon, the zombies will be less “contained threat” and more “unwanted guests knocking down my half-finished walls.” Tomorrow, the hammer and cobblestone get priority — fetch quests can wait.
Day 2 | Day 3 (You Are Here) | Day 4 (Coming Soon)
A quick update — the write-up about my b4nny-gifted Stickybomb Launcher from the i52 fundraiser has now been moved to a dedicated page.
This piece of TF2 history deserved a permanent home, not just a slot in the blog feed where it might eventually get buried.
➡️ You can read the full story here: Surviving the Backpack: My b4nny-Gifted Stickybomb Launcher
Future survival logs and shenanigans will keep rolling on as normal, but if you want the full provenance, screenshots, and esports history behind this launcher, the page has it all.
What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?
“Don’t be afraid to fail.” In survival games, failure is inevitable — wolves, blizzards, zombies, you name it. But each disaster makes the next run better (and funnier). Turns out the same advice works outside of games too.
(Plenty more entertaining failures turned into lessons at Survivor Incognito.)
What things give you energy?
Coffee, comfort food, and the thrill of not freezing to death in a survival game. There’s nothing like narrowly escaping wolves in The Long Dark or fixing a flipped truck in SnowRunner to wake me up faster than any energy drink.
(Plenty more chaotic boosts of “energy” at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s your all-time favorite album?
I don’t really stick to just one, but I’ll say this: any album that makes a survival game session feel like a movie soundtrack is my favourite. If I’m trudging through a blizzard in The Long Dark and it feels cinematic instead of tragic, the music’s done its
(Plenty more survival chaos that could use a soundtrack — at Survivor Incognito.)
Survivor Incognito 