Isolation Protocol – Log 3: Revolvers, Rewires, and the Thing in the Vents

Difficulty: Survival Diary Rule – Three Strikes
Optional Rules: NPC kills = game over, Alien kills = limited chances

“Axel didn’t make it. Now it’s just me, a ship full of strangers who want me dead, and something in the vents that definitely isn’t paying rent.”

Humans Are Worse

With Axel gone, my only hope of reaching the Torrens lies in the communications deck. Easy enough — except the moment I step into the elevator area, another survivor decides that today is a good day to introduce me to firearms, up close and personal.

I manage to grab the gadget he dropped (which, of course, is missing a power cell), but before I can even inspect it, her mates show up, heavily armed and highly motivated. Rewiring becomes my best friend: a quick distraction lures three away, but I forgot about the fourth. He has a revolver, and apparently the aim of a cowboy.

Running seems like the best life choice, and surprisingly, they don’t chase me. Probably union rules.

Scavenger’s Delight

With my heart rate only slightly higher than a microwave on full blast, I take stock. A revolver. A keycard. And a flashbang blueprint that reminds me of my Counter-Strike 2 days, where I was just as likely to blind myself as the enemy.

I find a black box from the Nostromo and for one terrible moment think I’ll finally learn what happened to my mother — except, of course, the recordings are gone. Figures.

Lockdowns and Maintenance Jacks

The room seals tight with a full lockdown. The gadget I picked up earlier? Now powered thanks to a conveniently placed cell. My shiny new Security Access Tuner opens doors like magic, but the ship clearly didn’t get the memo: it wants me stuck.

I dig around, crack open a door with my trusty maintenance jack (still my favourite tool), and finally find the terminal to lift the lockdown.

That’s when the vents begin to whisper.

The Monster Appears

It drops down from the ceiling — long, sleek, and infinitely uninterested in human conversation. The same thing that took Axel.

I crawl under a table, holding my breath as it sniffs around. That’s when I remember: I just unlocked extra exits for myself… which also means extra exits for it. Oops.

It slips into the vent and vanishes, leaving me shaken but alive. I follow at a very safe distance and then beeline for the nearest save point, head swivelling like I’m in a budget Exorcist remake.

Game saved. Nerves fried.

Log 3 Closing Thoughts

  • Survivors are hostile and revolvers hurt.
  • Rewiring saves lives.
  • Flashbangs will probably kill me, not the Alien.
  • The Xenomorph exists, it knows I exist, and we’re now on a collision course.

Next time: I find out if my revolver is a comfort, or just six shiny excuses to die loudly.

Continue the journey:
Log 2 | Log 3 (You Are Here) | Coming Soon: Log 4
0

When Confidence Meets Burnt Batter

Write about your most epic baking or cooking fail.

I found the recipe for Lily’s pancakes from The Long Dark and thought, “Easy — I’ve got this.” Full confidence, like the blueprint was unlocked and ready to craft. Reality disagreed. My cooking skill was so far off that the recipe might as well have stayed locked. Instead of golden pancakes, we got a burnt, unidentifiable mess that no survivor — digital or otherwise — would eat.

(Plenty more recipes that should’ve stayed locked — at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Failure Makes the Best Stories

Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.

That failure makes for the best stories. Whether it’s freezing to death five minutes into The Long Dark or flipping a truck in SnowRunner, the disasters are usually more entertaining (and more useful) than the smooth runs. I wish I’d realised earlier that falling flat isn’t the end — it’s the beginning of a good tale.

(Plenty more entertaining failures turned lessons at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Comfort Food Beats Stale Crackers

What are your favorite types of foods?

Comfort foods. Nachos, pizza, anything with far too much cheese. In survival games I’m scraping together stale crackers and half-frozen soda, so in real life I’m claiming every cheesy carb as a victory feast.

(Plenty more survival meals — some tragic, some tasty — at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Running From Wolves Counts as Exercise

How often do you walk or run?

In real life? Enough to keep the legs working. In survival games? Constantly — usually while over-encumbered, freezing, starving, and being chased by something with teeth. My cardio stats would be legendary if pixels counted.

(Plenty more digital marathons at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Leading Straight Into Chaos

Do you see yourself as a leader?

Only if we’re counting survival games. I’m great at leading digital characters straight into blizzards, zombie ambushes, and the occasional tragic wolf encounter. In real life? I’d say I’m more of a storyteller than a leader — recording the chaos so others can laugh, learn, or at least feel better about their own survival skills.

(Plenty more questionable leadership decisions at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Snowrunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day Nine

SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day 9

Day 9 in SnowRunner: Delivering fuel to the wrong farm, braving flooded roads, scouting with Red for upgrades, unlocking a long trailer, and freeing Frank from a rogue stone.

Missed the start of the series?
Visit the SnowRunner Hub |
Read the Permagear Rules |
Why Permagear Works

Previous Entry: SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day 8

Wrong Farm, Right Intentions

The day began with what I thought was a simple task: take a load of fuel on Frank over to the farm in Smithville Dam. The mission briefing seemed straightforward enough, and I had coffee in hand, confidence at maximum. I set off, happily trundling my way to the farm… or so I thought. There was one small problem: the farm I arrived at was in Black River. Wrong farm. Wrong map. Right truck, though, so points for consistency.

The moment of realisation hit when the delivery prompt didn’t appear, and I stared at the job list wondering why the game had suddenly decided to ignore me. After a closer look at the contract, I realised the truth: I’d wasted fuel, time, and what little dignity Frank has left after the last eight days. With a sigh, I plotted the correct route to Smithville Dam’s farm and promised myself I’d read the brief properly next time.

Flooded Roads and Missing Suspension

The road to Smithville’s farm was less of a road and more of a seasonal river. Every puddle was a knee-deep swamp, and without raised suspension for Frank, I had to pick my line like a tightrope walker with commitment issues. Each dip threatened to drown the engine, and I could almost hear Frank grumbling in protest.

Somehow, we made it without stalling. But I’ve decided that finding that raised suspension is now a top priority. The truck can’t keep doing its best submarine impression every time it rains.

Scouting with Red

With Frank resting at the farm, I swapped over to Red for a little exploration. A nearby Watchtower looked promising, and Red’s smaller size made it a safer bet for off-road detours. Still, caution was the name of the game — one wrong move and Red would be cartwheeling down a slope again, and I’m still not over the last incident.

The Watchtower revealed an upgrade not too far away, so I crept towards it, carefully negotiating mud pits and narrow bends. The prize? An engine upgrade for an International Transtar. Useful if I had one, but otherwise about as helpful as a snorkel on a fish. The search for Frank’s suspension continues.

Long Trailer, New Rank

Back at the logging station, I noticed a stack of wooden planks and got my hopes up. My excitement dimmed when I realised they were attached to a rather long trailer I didn’t yet own. A quick detour later, I unlocked the ability to purchase it and, as a bonus, hit Rank 5. Sure, it wasn’t the suspension I wanted, but new toys are always good for morale.

Bridge Work and Rogue Stones

With options running thin, I headed to the warehouse beyond the dam to collect bricks for the farm. Along the way, I activated the Smithville Bridge task, which — naturally — also requires wooden planks. Luckily, I know Black River has a stash, though it’s going to mean a lot of back-and-forth tomorrow.

On the way back with the bricks, disaster struck. Frank found himself completely immobilised on what can only be described as a rogue stone — the kind that hides in plain sight until your truck is perfectly balanced on it like some kind of unwanted hood ornament. With no winch points nearby, I had to call in Red for rescue duty. In an uncharacteristic display of teamwork, Red dug in, pulled Frank free, and somehow managed not to flip in the process. Small victories.

Tomorrow’s Plan

Tomorrow will be all about wooden planks. Lots of wooden planks. I’ll be running between Black River and Smithville like a glorified delivery service with mud in its teeth. The bridge won’t build itself, and neither will my suspension — though if I find that upgrade in the process, it might just be the happiest day Frank’s ever had.

Continue the Journey

SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day 10

1

Respawn, Except in Permadeath

What’s your favorite word?

“Respawn.” Not something I get in permadeath runs, but I love the idea of starting fresh. In games it’s a do-over, in blogging it’s a new post, and in life it’s a reminder that even disasters can lead to something new (unless a wolf got you — then it’s just the end).

(Plenty more respawn-less disasters at Survivor Incognito.)

0

Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Difficulty: Default Survival
Optional Rules: Permadeath, one horde night per week

“I woke up in front of a caravan with a few scraps, a stone-axe dream, and a passive-aggressive note from the Duke. Welcome to 7 Days to Die.”

The Duke Hates Me, Trees Hate My Fists

Like every survival game worth its salt, the tutorial goes like this: punch nature until it gives up resources. Twigs, stones, and grass became my new currency. Before long I’d cobbled together a stone axe, wooden bow, arrows, a club, and some basic armor. The Duke’s instructions? Go see Trader Rekt. Fine. But I’m docking him points for management style.

Papaw Residence: Home Sweet Maybe

On the way, I found the Papaw Residence. Inside: zombies, a cooking pot, and — after several panicked swings and one deeply ungraceful bow shot — victory. A few quick wood frames in the doorways, some repair slapdash on the windows, and I served my first eviction notice to the undead. I dropped the land-claim block because… the tutorial said so. It’s just me out here, but sure, paperwork matters.

Administrative Hostility at Trader Rekt

Rekt handed me a shovel and told me to dig. When I stepped back outside, a zombie was loitering like security had gone on break. A couple of club taps later, the parking lot was clear and my cardio stat was emotionally damaged.

Diggy Diggy Hole (ft. Immediate Zombie)

Quest in hand, shovel in pocket, I marched out to unearth supplies. Within seconds of my first swing, the dirt complained — and so did a nearby zombie, who arrived to file a noise complaint with his teeth. One frantic scuffle later, I was back to the dwarven anthem: “I’m a dwarf, and I’m digging a hole.” Every thunk felt like ringing a dinner bell for the next groaner, but the stash popped and I grabbed the goods.

Snake on a Path

On the return leg I spotted a snake. Compared to the zombies outside Rekt’s place and the dig site, this was stress relief with scales. One arrow later, dinner. The bone knife I’d made earlier turned it into tidy cuts for the pot.

Night by the Fire

Back at Papaw, I set up a campfire, boiled every drop of murky water I’d hoarded, cooked snake meat, and tossed a couple of potatoes on for good measure. The house creaked, the wind howled, and distant moans reminded me that the homeowners’ association here is very hands-on.

Day 1 Reflections

Base secured (ish). Water safe (mostly). Food cooked (definitely snake). I’ve got another buried supplies quest from Rekt lined up for tomorrow and the horde clock has quietly started ticking. One day survived. Seven? We’ll see.

Day 1 Pro Tips (7 Days to Die Edition)

  • Gather early, gather often: Grass, stones, and wood fuel your first tools and defenses.
  • Craft the basics fast: Stone axe, wooden club, wooden bow + arrows, and primitive armor.
  • Secure a roof: A fixer-upper beats the outdoors. Frame and patch doors/windows immediately.
  • Cooking pot = jackpot: Boil water safely and expand your recipe list.
  • Bone knife bonus: Butchering with it yields more meat, hides, and resources.
  • Expect company when digging: Shovels are loud. Fight, reset, keep scanning 360°.
  • Trader quests pay: Early tools, food, meds, and dukes — stack them for momentum.
  • Night jobs: Boil water, cook, sort loot, plan upgrades. Don’t waste the dark.
Continue the journey:
Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Day 2

← Back to Seven Days to Survive Hub

2

Surviving the Milky Way: An Elite Dangerous Survival Diary – Day 3: Courier by Necessity, Profit by Accident

Day 3 – Courier by Necessity, Profit by Accident

“These are the voyages of Commander Incognito aboard the Rustbucket: navigating suns like they’re magnets, fumbling through manual landings, and somehow turning courier work into profit.”

Starting the Day with Fines

I logged back in and spent five minutes fighting menus, only to uncover the cruel truth: I’d had the cargo all along. Victory, right? Not quite. Because right as that sunk in, I noticed the timer — less than 20 minutes to make 23 jumps.

That mission was doomed before it began, but at least the game let me embarrass myself thoroughly before I abandoned it. So, I dumped the job, paid off my fines (no further comment), and went back into the station to try again.

Switching Careers: From Hauler to Courier

The new plan: data deliveries. No cargo racks, no depot shenanigans, just flying from system to system like a slightly confused interstellar postman.

My route looked clean on paper:

  • Popovich Hub — Col 285 Sector ED-K a38-5
  • Sarrantonio Settlement — Crucis 6
  • Ramasawany Point — Borrelai

Point A → B → C. A straight line, if space ever did such a thing.

Popovich Hub: Fire and Buttons

The Rustbucket left dock, and within minutes I was already sweating. Not from nerves, but from the fact that I skimmed a star so closely I practically gave it a hug. Heat alarms screamed, hull integrity plummeted, and I managed to cook the ship down to 35%.

When I limped into Popovich Hub, I discovered the docking computer was broken. Which meant one thing: manual docking. Five minutes of pushing buttons like a toddler in an elevator followed. Somehow, miraculously, I found the landing pad, dropped the ship without exploding, and paid for repairs. Reward collected. One down.

Sarrantonio Settlement: Suspiciously Normal

After the chaos of Popovich, I braced myself for disaster. Maybe pirates. Maybe another accidental sun-kiss. Instead, I cruised in smoothly, docked without issue, handed over the data, and got paid.

It was so uneventful I didn’t trust it. The silence was suspicious. But I wasn’t about to complain. Two down.

Ramasawany Point: Racing the Clock

The Borrelai system greeted me with a challenge: deliver the last data within 40 minutes for a bonus. Easy enough, provided I could stop trying to barbecue the Rustbucket every other jump.

The first fuel scoop went beautifully, textbook even. The second? Straight back into star-hugging territory. Balance, apparently, is important.

By the time I approached Ramasawany Point, I was certain pirates would interdict me just to ruin my day. But nothing happened. No drama. I docked, handed over the data, and collected the bonus. Repairs covered, credits gained, and — for the first time — I ended a day in profit.

Nightfall in the Rustbucket

Docked safely, hull patched, fines cleared (for now), I stared out of the station’s viewport at the glowing sun that had nearly cooked me twice. Data couriering isn’t glamorous, but at least it pays, and I didn’t manage to set anything else on fire.

Not freezing, not starving, not bankrupt, and still flying: in Elite Dangerous, that’s about as close to a victory lap as I’m likely to get.

Day 3 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • When the HUD says “align with space vector,” stop panicking and throttle down first.
  • Manual docking is survivable. Just breathe. And trust the radar.
  • Fuel scooping is a fine art. Pretend the sun is hot soup: too close, you burn; too far, you starve.
  • Courier missions are calmer than hauling — fewer explosions, less shame.
  • Fines multiply if you ignore them. Trust me.
Continue the journey:
Day 2 | Day 3 (You Are Here) | Day 4
1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑