Tag: Surviving Not Suffering

Dead by Daylight Isn’t Dead — But It Is Wearing Me Down

Dead by Daylight Isn’t Dead — But It Is Wearing Me Down

This is a harder post to write than I expected.
Not because I’m angry, but because Dead by Daylight is a game I used to genuinely love.
That’s what makes this year stand out — not one disaster, but how many small issues stacked up until enthusiasm quietly drained away.

On paper, Behaviour had a strong year.
In practice, it felt messy, defensive, and increasingly disconnected from the people actually playing the game.

Big Swings, Weak Follow-Through

There were real wins:

  • Major crossover moments
  • Long-requested licenses
  • Continued visibility and solid player numbers

But almost every win came with friction.
Momentum rarely turned into confidence.

The PTBs That Didn’t Listen

Twice this year, Behaviour tried to address slugging and tunnelling through PTBs.

The community response was immediate and consistent:

  • This won’t fix the problem
  • This adds frustration
  • This targets symptoms, not causes

Disagreement is normal.
Unified feedback being ignored is not.

When PTBs stop feeling like tests and start feeling like rehearsals for decisions already made, trust erodes fast.

The Livestream That Became a Case Study

The Walking Dead livestream should have been simple:

  • High-profile guest
  • One of the biggest DBD creators
  • A crossover meant to rebuild hype

Instead, it unravelled live.

Technical issues happen.
What mattered was watching the creator actively offer practical solutions — and being shut down by the developers on air.

That moment did more damage than the outage itself.
Flexibility gave way to control, and the optics flipped instantly.

Losing Michael Myers Changes Everything

This is no longer hypothetical.

Michael Myers — Dead by Daylight’s first licensed killer — is confirmed to be leaving the store.

Yes, if you own the chapter, you keep it.
The character will not disappear from existing accounts.

That does not soften the impact.

  • Myers isn’t just another license
  • He’s part of the game’s foundation
  • He proved licensed horror could work long-term in DBD

After Hellraiser, this confirms a pattern rather than an exception.
The unspoken promise that some things were permanent is gone.

“You Keep What You Bought” Isn’t Reassuring Anymore

Nothing is being taken away from existing players.
But the consequences are real:

  • New players lose access to a core horror icon
  • Foundational killers become legacy content
  • The game’s identity fragments over time

Live service games rely on trust that long-term investment matters.
That trust took a direct hit this year.

Licenses Won’t Fix Systems

Jason Voorhees would help.

  • Huge recognition
  • Immediate hype
  • A short-term surge in attention

But licenses don’t solve:

  • Tunnelling incentives
  • Slugging as pressure
  • Solo queue frustration
  • Meta fatigue

Without structural change, a new killer is a sugar rush — not a recovery.

This Isn’t Death. It’s Erosion.

Dead by Daylight isn’t dying.

What’s happening is quieter:

  • Players log in less
  • Defend the game less
  • Recommend it less
  • Shrug when things go wrong

That’s more dangerous than a loud collapse.

Why I’m Stepping Back — And Why That Makes Me Sad

This isn’t a goodbye post.

It’s a pause — and one I didn’t expect to need.

I wasn’t expecting to write a Dead by Daylight post for this blog at all.
At one point, I’d even planned a full page dedicated solely to DBD maps — layouts, loops, dead zones, the works.

That idea felt exciting then.
Now, it feels like a ship that sailed while I was still deciding whether to board.

Not because the maps stopped being interesting, but because my confidence in the game staying stable long-term quietly faded.
Without that confidence, it’s hard to justify investing that kind of time and care.

Maybe that changes one day.
I’d like it to.
But right now, this post exists not because I planned it — but because I needed to be honest about where things stand.

If Behaviour wants to steady the ship:

  • Announce less
  • Ship more
  • Fix incentives, not behaviour
  • Close the loop on feedback

Do that, and goodwill returns.

Without it, the game won’t collapse.
It’ll coast — carried by licenses and habit — while the people who cared most slowly disengage.

And that’s the part that genuinely makes me sad to write.

Clarification Note

  • Licensed content removed from sale is not removed from existing accounts
  • This post focuses on access, stability, and trust
  • Michael Myers’ removal is confirmed; broader concerns are based on precedent
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🧭 Survivor’s Log — November 2025

When the dice roll a natural 1, you reschedule, regroup, and log the chaos anyway.

Log Date: December 1, 2025 · Filed By: Survivor Incognito

When the Dice Betray You

November was supposed to be packed: more logs, more videos, and at least one new project stepping out of the shadows. Instead, as mentioned previously, life rolled a natural 1 on me. A few plans had to be shelved so the offline chaos could be handled first.

The result? Fewer posts than planned, but the campfire is still lit, the hubs are still standing, and the backlog of ideas remains very much alive.

Rediscovering Tyria

On the plus side, I rediscovered Guild Wars. Dropping back into Tyria after all this time felt oddly right — comfortable, dangerous, and full of bad pulls waiting to happen.

With Guild Wars Reforged on the horizon, you can safely assume a lot of my spare time is going to vanish into mission runs, build tinkering, and seeing how much trouble I can get into with heroes and henchmen. Some habits never die; they just wait by the outpost gate.

A Quieter Month at Camp

Because November went sideways, the blog shifted into “keep the lights on” mode rather than “all systems go.” That meant:

  • Some planned entries were delayed or pushed back to a saner month.
  • Ongoing series like Isolation Protocol, Submerged, and 7 Days to Survive stayed on a lighter schedule than intended.
  • The recent site-wide updates to the FAQ, About Me, Rules of Survival, and Surviving, Not Suffering continued to do their job quietly in the background.

Not flashy, but the camp stayed organised, and nothing caught fire that wasn’t supposed to.

Small Wins Still Count

Even in a slower month, a few things still managed to land:

  • The shift to a 2 PM GMT posting schedule continued, giving posts and videos a better overlap with UK, EU, and US readers.
  • The end of Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary remained a highlight — the blog’s first full documented win still doing the rounds.
  • Survivor’s Shorts and other videos quietly fed into the archive, strengthening the connection between written logs and gameplay.
  • Ko-fi stayed live in the background, available but unobtrusive — just how it should be.

Not the explosive November originally planned, but still progress. Sometimes survival looks like momentum; sometimes it just looks like not dropping anything important.

Looking Ahead (Carefully)

December’s plans are simple and realistic:

  • Pick up the threads of Isolation Protocol, Submerged, and 7 Days to Survive as time and dice rolls allow.
  • Keep refining the hubs so it’s easier to find older runs and finished series.
  • Let the Guild Wars and Reforged hype simmer in the background and see where it leads on the blog side.

No grand promises, just one core rule: keep the stories moving when possible, and when not, keep the camp ready for when things calm down.

December should bring more structure, more stories, and — inevitably — more things trying to kill me. Business as usual.

Continue the Journey

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🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5.5: Racing the Sunbeam

5.5

“Rescue was coming. Naturally, that meant it was time to start a new project instead.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Difficulty: Survival
Recording: Lost due to file corruption — because the ocean clearly wasn’t done messing with me.

Author’s Note: Unfortunately, my recording for this session corrupted before I noticed. So this entry is reconstructed from memory — a cautionary tale for all survivors who trust autosave more than their capture software.

Message from the Heavens

It begins with the crackle of static — another message from the Sunbeam. They’ve located a landing site. They’re on their way. Forty minutes until pickup.

Forty minutes until salvation.

Naturally, I decide to ignore the pending rescue entirely and go chase the final piece of the Mobile Vehicle Bay instead. Priorities.

The Hunt for Titanium and Sanity

I swim toward the Sunbeam’s coordinates, eyes peeled for fragments. Just as I’m starting to lose hope — there it is. The final piece.

I bolt back toward my lifepod like my oxygen tank depends on it (which, to be fair, it always does). The excitement of progress pushes me faster than any propulsion cannon ever could. I check the crafting requirements — Titanium Ingot, Power Cell, a few odds and ends I already have scattered in lockers. Easy enough.

And since I clearly have time before rescue, I think, “Why not go bigger?” Enter: the Seamoth. The personal submersible of my dreams.

Building the Dream

The Mobile Vehicle Bay is first on the list. Titanium gathered, ingot forged, power cell crafted from the remains of old batteries. When it finally deploys and floats proudly on the surface, it feels like progress — real progress.

I climb aboard, ready to build my Seamoth, and immediately realise I’ve made a rookie mistake. No Titanium Ingot. Again. The ocean mocks me with its silence as I swim off once more, scavenging every bit of wreckage I can find.

Eventually, success. The Seamoth blueprint completes, and the little sub rises from the water like a gift from the deep. She’s beautiful — and mine. I climb in, listen to the AI purr, and feel an unfamiliar thing: hope.

There’s still time before the Sunbeam arrives. I point my Seamoth toward the landing site. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it in time to see the sky light up with something other than plasma fire.

Next: The Sky Burns

I set course for the island, my Seamoth slicing through the water like it was always meant to be there. The radio says twenty minutes until the Sunbeam arrives. The ocean says otherwise.

Continue the Journey:
Log 5: Waiting for the Sunbeam | Log 6

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Super Mario 64 Randomizer – Log 1: A Metal Start & a Sandstorm Surprise

Platform: Steam Deck
Settings: Vanilla Mario & Music — because some chaos speaks for itself.
“Somewhere between turning to metal and getting launched at Bowser before lunch, I realised the randomizer doesn’t believe in pacing.”

The Super Mario 64 Randomizer wastes no time reminding you that reality is optional. My first warp dropped me straight into the Metal Cap stage — a place I had no right being this early on, but apparently this version of Mario is a trendsetter. After a brief moment of “wait, how did I get here?”, I grabbed the cap, collected what I could, and escaped before the chaos decided to double down.

Moments later, I opened another door… and there he was. Bowser in the Dark World, staring back at me with that “you’re not supposed to be here yet” kind of energy. Naturally, I went in anyway.

Watch Log 1:

Early Bowser, Early Panic

I wasn’t mentally or physically prepared for an early Bowser fight. My hands were still in “collect coins and admire textures” mode, not “avoid spinning platforms over the void” mode. But somehow, it worked out. Bowser got tossed into oblivion, my confidence went up by about 10%, and my sense of direction dropped by 80%.

From there, I stumbled into Shifting Sand Land. You know, the one full of quicksand and angry wildlife. Not exactly where I expected to end up next, but at least it looked warm. A few exploratory jumps later, I realised I’d achieved very little besides confirming that sand hurts — so I retreated to something more comforting: the Secret Slide.

The Slide Before the Storm

Ah, the Secret Slide — the calmest, most reassuring part of this randomizer so far. No enemies, no bottomless pits, just gravity and mild regret. I took the scenic route (read: I fell off twice), grabbed both stars, and left feeling momentarily competent.

Naturally, that feeling didn’t last. My next warp took me back to Shifting Sand Land, which seems determined to be my home base now. Between the quicksand, whirlwinds, and the constant threat of instant death, it’s a lot like visiting a beach if the beach actively wanted you gone.

Log 1 Summary

  • Stars Collected: 6
  • Stars Remaining: 114
  • Lives: 4
  • Areas Cleared: Metal Cap, Secret Slide, Bowser in the Dark World

For a first outing, this randomizer threw everything at me except the kitchen sink (and let’s be honest, that might still show up later). Metal Mario, Bowser, sandstorms, slides — it’s been a full day’s work in about half an hour. I’ve no idea what the next warp will bring, but I’m bringing extra lives and zero expectations.

Lessons from Log 1

  • Metal Mario early is fun — until gravity remembers he’s heavy.
  • Bowser fights don’t need context to cause panic.
  • Shifting Sand Land: 10/10 for sun exposure, 0/10 for safety.
  • Secret Slide remains the only form of therapy in this castle.
Continue the journey:
Log 1 (You Are Here) |
Log 2
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🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary — Log 4: Extinction Prevention (Mostly)

“Turns out nuclear safety training is optional when you’re the only one left alive.”

Mode: Survival | Platform: Steam Deck

Post-Reaper Priorities

After my last close encounter with the Reaper Leviathan, I decide that maybe, just maybe, going silver-hunting anywhere near them is a bad idea. I still need that silver for my Propulsion Cannon, but I’d rather not earn another traumatic underwater flashback. I remember some sandstone outcrops near Lifepod 17, so I head there instead.

Luck is finally on my side. I find the silver pretty quickly, head back to my lifepod, and get to work. A few crafted materials later, I’m officially armed with a Propulsion Cannon. I briefly consider testing it on the Reaper — just to see what happens — but deep down, I know it would end poorly for me and hilariously for the Reaper.

Back to the Aurora

Feeling brave (or foolish), I head back to the Aurora. Naturally, my Seaglide’s battery dies halfway there, because Subnautica loves timing like that. After swapping it out, I make my way inside and retrace my previous steps. The crates that blocked me before? One satisfying Propulsion Cannon blast later, and I’m through.

I’m not sure what I expected — treasure, danger, maybe another PDA full of corporate nonsense — but what I definitely didn’t expect was a locked door with a keypad. For a moment, I almost give up. Then I remember my PDA might know something I don’t (which is most things), and there it is — a door code: 1454. It takes a few attempts — because typing underwater is hard — but eventually, the door slides open.

The Reactor Room

Behind it lies the reactor room, complete with glowing warnings telling me not to enter without training. Fortunately, no one’s around to stop me — and the ship is literally falling apart — so I take that as an invitation.

Radiation warning blaring, I dive in. The place is crawling with those little aggressive sea pests who’ve apparently decided this nuclear chamber is home sweet home. I’m too focused on repairing breaches to care. Twelve welds later, the Aurora’s no longer in danger of turning the ocean into a radioactive soup. One crisis averted, and I didn’t even vaporise myself. I’ll take that as a win.

Lifepod 4 and the Sunbeam

On my way back to Lifepod 5, I spot something bobbing on the surface. It’s an upside-down lifepod — number 4, to be exact. Curiosity wins, and I investigate. Inside, I find a PDA and a Creature Decoy blueprint. Probably not a coincidence that this pod didn’t make it.

Back at my base of operations, I reward myself with some cooked fish and clean water before checking the latest radio transmission. It’s from the Sunbeam — they’ve heard my signals and are getting closer. They just need to find somewhere to land.

Awaiting Rescue

Not sure what I’ll do while I wait. I’ve got Seamoth blueprints now, but no sign of the Mobile Vehicle Bay fragments I need to actually build one. So for the time being, it’s just me, my Seaglide, and the ever-expanding ocean of things trying to eat me.

I didn’t expect preventing an extinction-level event to be this quick — though I suspect the planet has plenty more chaos in store. For now, I’ll gather resources, explore nearby wrecks, and keep an eye out for those fragments. And maybe go swimming, just… not too deep.

Continue the journey:
Log 3: The Reaper’s Warning |
Log 5: Scanners, Stalkers & The Elusive Bay
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🩸 Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Survival Diary Epilogue: The Train That Didn’t

🩸 Derailed & Doomed — Epilogue: The Train That Didn’t

“Somehow, I lived. Charles didn’t. And yes, I’m framing that sentence.”

Series complete — one survivor, one destroyed monster, zero refunds for train tickets.

Final Whistle: What Victory Looked Like

The last chase was part boss fight, part scrap economy, part improvised flamethrower cookout.
I juggled weapons, patched a screaming locomotive with spare metal like a field surgeon with duct tape,
and learned that momentum beats panic nine times out of ten. On the tenth time, you just pray your train is pointing the right way.

Charles tried the usual: ambush, vanish, reappear somewhere inconvenient. I answered with speed upgrades,
a trigger-happy finger, and the stubborn belief that if I kept the train moving, fate would have to jog to keep up.
When the smoke cleared, only one of us was still on the tracks. Spoiler: it was me.

Why This Game? (And Why Now?)

I first saw Choo Choo Charles on TikTok while it was still in development — one of those “this shouldn’t work, but it absolutely does” moments.
It stuck with me. When I started Survivor Incognito, Charles rolled back onto my radar like a bad idea with great marketing.
This run was me finally cashing that ticket: a strange, scrappy, horror-tinged road trip that fit my brand of portable chaos a little too well.

Triumph, But Make It Practical: What I’d Tell Future Me

  • Speed first, always. You can’t out-tank what you can outrun.
  • The bug spray is your friend. It doesn’t just slow Charles down — it buys you breathing room, literally.
  • Scrap is a second health bar. Hoard it like snacks before a boss rush.
  • Plan your egg route. Less sightseeing, more line-of-best-fit between objectives.
  • Permadeath rule kept me honest. Every choice mattered because strikes mattered.

Lore-ish Debrief: Aftermath on the Island

With Charles gone, the island felt louder in a different way — wind in the trees instead of whistles in the dark.
The tracks creaked like they’d finally exhaled. People came out of their houses and stopped pretending the storm was “just weather.”
It’s not a fairy-tale ending. It’s a train line with fewer teeth marks.

What the Run Meant (to Me and the Blog)

This wasn’t just a boss fight; it was my first proper win added to the blog’s record — proof that I don’t just curate chaos,
I occasionally navigate it. It’s also a reminder that Survivor Incognito isn’t about masochistic difficulty;
it’s about tension you can feel and choices you can live with (even if some of them involve flaming arachnid locomotives).

Supercut: Coming Soon

I’m assembling a full-series supercut — the whole journey from first toot to final kaboom — so you can watch the story unfold without jumping between posts.
It’ll land here when it’s ready.

Credits, Thanks, & Tracks Ahead

Thanks for riding along — in comments, on the blog, and across the socials. Next up: more survival, more diaries, and definitely more poor decisions told with a straight face.
If you’re new here, the hub has everything in one place.

Continue the Journey

🔙 Read the Final Battle Log |
🗂️ Derailed & Doomed — Series Hub |
👀 Survivor’s Dread — Horror Series Hub

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🧭 Survivor’s Log — October 2025

Half a year of portable chaos, a quiet Ko-fi launch, major page refreshes, and — finally — a win.

Log Date: November 1, 2025 · Filed By: Survivor Incognito

Six Months in the Wild

Somehow, Survivor Incognito is now over six months old — which feels equal parts surreal and chaotic. What started as a single The Long Dark diary has grown into a sprawling survival archive spanning frozen coastlines, haunted train tracks, and alien oceans. October wasn’t just another month of posts — it marked the blog’s first real milestone: half a year of surviving, thriving, and occasionally panicking.

Maintenance Mode (and Quiet Upgrades)

This month, the site’s foundation got some love. The FAQ, About Me, Rules of Survival, and Surviving, Not Suffering: The Survivor Incognito Philosophy pages all received major updates — cleaner structure, clearer links, and a touch more snark. Not glamorous, but it keeps the camp running smoothly.

Ko-fi: Quietly Deployed

I’ve quietly launched a Ko-fi — no trumpet fanfare, just a small “support the chaos” button. As always, it’s entirely optional; look after yourself first. If you do choose to support, thank you — that caffeine powers a surprising amount of near-misses.

🚂 Victory at Last — Choo Choo Charles

After months of near-misses, permadeath heartbreaks, and wolf-related tragedies, Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary ended with something rare: a win. Charles was fast, angry, and deeply cursed — but the train met its match. It’s the first official victory on the blog, wrapped up neatly in time for Halloween. A proper milestone — and a satisfying clang of the bell.

What’s Next?

November marks the return of ongoing stories that took a brief hiatus during the Charles showdown — including Isolation Protocol (claustrophobic corridors), Submerged (alien depths), and 7 Days to Survive (undead neighbours and suspiciously flimsy doors). Each will pick up where they left off — with the usual measured chaos.

And yes — there’s more chaos coming.

Continue the Journey

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🎥 Survivor’s Shorts – The Reaper Leviathan Found Me


“I saw it. It saw me. I screamed louder.”

You know that moment in Subnautica when you realise the ocean doesn’t just want you gone — it wants to make a spectacle out of it? This was mine.

Recorded on Steam Deck, this short captures my first (and very unwanted) close encounter with a Reaper Leviathan. Let’s just say I left the area faster than the PDA could update my vitals — and somehow survived with a sliver of health left.

From: Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 3
Platform: Steam Deck
Series: Survivor’s Shorts

Sometimes survival isn’t about bravery. It’s about panic-swimming in the opposite direction and hoping the monster gets bored first.

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