Apologies in advance, fellow gamer. The following post is a window into the world of a Halo denizen who bears the elusive reconnaissance raiment. Such things are better left unspoken. To ask for such insures that it shall forever slip one’s grasp. To declare such as one’s own is an invitation to scorn and judgment.
The Halo Nation is a curious bunch. If you have something they want, they will hunt you down. Take their flag, and they will follow you all the way home. Wear their coveted armor, and they will send you messages without so much as an introduction.
It’s a fascinating study in human behavior, as status-seeking gamers make contact in a bid to solve the mystery surrounding the criteria for Recon assignment. Some plead for information through a steady barrage of messages. Others demand challenges on the spot. The most aggressive ones send Friend Requests until communications are blocked.
On some occassions, however, you receive a taunt. That was the message sent to this gamer by one deltajuliet. The screenshot seen above was sent with an ominous caption:
“You might have Recon… but the Hog is mine!”
Right on, SPARTAN! Status symbols aside, the most important measure of a gamer is the playing of the game. Rank, medals, or armor permutations mean nothing when you are getting pulled from your favorite seat in the house.
Bungie may give some of us funny hats to wear, but that is probably just to make us curious about one another. We are, after all, the ones that make the game interesting for each other once the coding is done.
Cheers on the carjack, delta.