| Dreams in Monochrome |
[August 8th, 2007 | 02.17] |
Part 1 has had some minor changes, and Part 2 is now added. As before, quite curious on feedback.
“There's at least ten minutes until your security gets here, doctor,” she said, her voice filled with what sounded like a mix of savage glee and black hatred. “Ten whole minutes. You'll be counting each and every one, I expect. You're going to give me answers, or I will use those ten minutes to tear you apart. When your security eventually gets here, they'll have to take samples of your blood to verify your identity, because the rest of you won't be recognizable. It would give me great pleasure to do this, because of what I suspect you've done to me, but if if you give me the information I want, you'll keep your life, worthless and pathetic as it is. Do you understand me?”
The lights flared to life in the room, illuminating the doctor curled up, the woman standing above him with a hand outstretched. “I suppose choking you any further would be counterproductive. Consider it a blessing, and far better than you deserve.”
The doctor took a deep, shaky breath, and then burst into a coughing fit. The light glinted off the tears on his face, making him look all the more pathetic, broken.
“I want to know what the Program is,” she said, squatting down closer to the doctor. She reached forward and rolled the doctor over to face her. He stared up at her face, so delicate and sharp at the same time, with a mixture of fear and wonder, as if she was some sort of dark, avenging goddess. The heavy black cloth was tied tightly around the back of her head, covering up where her eyes would be, adding a sense of mystery and menace to her appearance. “I want to know what it is and who runs it.”
“They'll kill me if I help you!” the doctor cried out. “Powerful, well-connected men who don't give a shit about my life and my work, who wouldn't think twice about ordering...”
“Ordering a Scryer to 'neutralize the target with extreme prejudice', I believe is the terminology you bastards always used whenever I was given assignments,” the woman spat back at him. Even though she didn't have eyes, he couldn't help but feel as though she was glaring at him with her eyes blazing. “I'll kill you right here, right now. It won't be quick, and it won't be painless. Your last thoughts will be filled with fear as you stare at me with hate in your eyes, hoping against hope that there's not a Hell.”
“You're a product of the Program,” he responded quietly.
“Would there be this much hatred and disgust in my voice if I wasn't? What I am right now, what I'm doing to you? I am what you made me. You know me as Infura.” the woman retorted, her words laced with venom. The doctor sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
She leaned forward and placed a hand on his forehead, as if she was checking him for a fever. The doctor gasped at the touch of her cool, lithe hand on his brow. Above him, the woman's lips parted slightly and moved, as though she was whispering silently. She sat this way for a few minutes as she sifted through all the memories he had, searching for information about the Program, and then she pulled back, contemplating what she'd seen in his head.
“There's so much you don't know, Doctor Anton. You're so ignorant, so naive. Medical research? What you people did was nothing short of barbaric torture. You took my eyes, and you cut into my brain, slicing away pieces of me like potatoes peels. You're lucky you didn't take my self-control when you did, or I'd have killed you already.”
“I didn't...” Anton started, and then stopped. “You know I didn't know.”
“You suspected, though. You were the lead scientist on the entire Project, and you suspected that when your people weren't poking and prodding us Scryers that we were being used to kill people, but you closed your eyes and willingly ignored it. You didn't even do it because you were morally opposed to what you thought we were being forced to do. No, Anton, you did it because you thought if the Program ever got investigated, you'd have a cleaner slate. Plausible deniability.”
Anton bowed his head. “You speak the truth,” he said quietly. “You think I'm a monster.”
“I don't think, Doctor, I know. There was only one person who helped me while I was in the Program, and you just provided me with his name. That's the only truly good thing you've done in your entire life. I know – I looked into thoughts and memories you can't even begin to recall. You people took my eyes, Anton, my fucking eyes. Even now, even when I'm threatening you with a death more painful than you've ever imagined, you don't regret that.”
“You're right,” he said, and he looked back up at her. “I think that if I were to see your eyes right now, I'd burst into flames.”
“You can't even imagine what it's like to have been blinded, Anton. The Program didn't do it half-ass, either. I've already spoken with another doctor who says my sight is 'fully unrecoverable'. Even robotic eyes won't do a thing for me, because your people made sure they burned out the nerves that connected to every part of my brain that handles sight.” She paused for a moment. “You were all so afraid of me, afraid of my designation as a Class 10.”
“You don't understand! You were gaining power faster than we could've possibly expected or controlled!”
“So maybe you should've just left me alone, Anton. Maybe your people should've never drafted me for the Program in the first place,” she responded, her voice contemplative. “Did you ever think about how I would've turned out if you hadn't decided to play God with my mind, with my life? I don't even know if I had a family or friends before you bastards took me. You made sure to erase everything. You made sure you had a blank slate, a broken, shattered scrap of a girl you could try to mold and shape into the weapons your sponsors wanted.”
“I...”
“I don't want your excuses, Anton. In fact, I think you and I are just about done. I can sense your security guards charging up the hidden stairwells that lead to this room, and any second now the emergency klaxons should be...” She trailed off right as the alarms began to drone, filling the room with flashing bursts of yellow light. “Right on cue, and now I'm going to show you mercy, mercy you don't deserve, all because of a promise I made to someone else you know. You remember Red, of course.” She hadn't thought it possible for Anton's eyes to get any wider, any more full of fear. “He said to give you his regards.”
She reached forward again as Anton suddenly clenched his eyes shut, but even that couldn't block the pinpoint of white light that exploded in his mind.
Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open as a pair of guards dived through it, weapons at the ready, scanning the room for the intruder. Seeing nobody but the curled form of their employer, they moved cautiously forward, prepared for some sort of deception.
As they reached the doctor, he suddenly gasped and sat up, his eyes filled with confusion. “Who...who are you? Where am I?”
“Doctor Anton?” one of the guards asked the obviously shaken man. “Are you injured? Did you see the intruder?”
“Doctor Anton...is that my name? I can't...I can't seem to remember anything...except...” Anton's face went blank. “Infura. Does that mean anything to either of you?” He looked back and forth hopefully at the masked faces of the guards as they helped him to his feet.
-=-
“You sure you don't want a drink?”
“I'll pass. You know how I feel about drinking” Infura said, and shrugged slightly. “My head's messed up enough without bringing intoxicants into the mix, Red. I'm getting a headache just from the smoke in here, and that's free.”
“You're no fun,” the man said with a laugh. “There's nothing like getting piss drunk to wipe away all the things you don't want to think about. Then again, our mutual friend Anton might disagree.” He brushed a few strands of his long, crimson hair back, revealing eyes that shone with amusement. “You did him a favor, whether he realizes it or not. Maybe now he can atone for what he did to us. I don't know if he will, but he has a chance.”
“I should've just killed him,” Infura said bluntly. “The man was a bastard, through and through. Just touching his mind for the few moments that I did felt...disgusting.”
“I believe it. Makes me glad I don't have that particular ability. But now that we're on our own, killing's not our way, not unless it's our lives on the line. We're better than they are, despite their most dedicated efforts to the contrary,” Red said before taking a deep gulp of his drink. He slammed the mug down and pounded his fist against his chest a few times. “Fucked if that doesn't burn going down every time.”
“I'll bet,” Infura said, and lightly tapped a finger on the surface of their table. Her nails were chipped and short, looking as if she'd spent many nights biting them in nervous frustration and anguish. “Anton didn't know much, Red. Not nearly as much as I hoped.”
“It's a shame, but we had to try him. He was easy enough to get at, anyway. Why did you bother tripping the alarm, anyway?” Red asked. “You could have had all the time in the world with him.”
“I didn't trust myself, Red. I hate him too much. I hate all of them, and I wasn't sure I could keep my promise to you to leave him alive. The security guards were...insurance, I suppose you could say. To keep me honest,” she admitted. “They took my eyes.”
Red nodded. “They didn't take your soul though, babe, and that's what matters. They can't take that from you – that's something that only you can give up. Is it really worth damning yourself alongside them?”
“I don't even know the answer to that question anymore. I want to take them all down so badly. Part of me wants to do to them just what they did to me.” Infura pounded a fist on the table.
“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, Infura,” Red said in a tone he hoped sounded sage before taking another long swig, emptying the mug entirely. “As long as I'm alive, I won't let you sink to that level, to their level.”
“You're like my own personal Jesus, Red,” Infura said and cracked a smile. “I'm touched.”
“Yeah, well, someone's got to look out for you,” Red said and grinned foolishly back at her. He raised his mug to his forehead in a mock salute. “Ex-Scryer Red, at your service, m'am.”
“Such a comedian. Anyway, I got a name when I was in Anton's mind: Haskins. I think it's the doctor I told you about, the one I think knows how I was freed. We should be able to trace him...” Infura paused. “Red, I think we're being watched.”
“The pair by the bar with the expensive black sunglasses even though we're in a dim, smoky shitheap of a bar? You think?” Red said with a laugh. “I marked them before you even got here. They couldn't be more obvious if they tried. Reach out and touch them, why don't you?”
Infura nodded slowly, reaching her mind out towards the pair. It didn't take long to pick the information she was looking for. “They're nervous as all hell, Red. They're green, but...they have backup, there's an van parked in the alley.” She shook her head slightly as she retreated from their minds, leaving them none the wiser. “At least a half dozen men out there, too.”
Red dug in his pocket for a few moments and dug out his wallet. He flipped through it before finding the denomination of bill he wanted, and threw it casually on the table. “Let's get out of here. Can we do this quiet-like, or do I have to get flashy?”
Infura concentrated for a moment, estimating the number of people in the bar. “We'll be fine. Most of the poor slobs in here are so far gone they don't even know what sober is right now. All we'll need to worry about is the bartender and our two friends, and we'll be clear,” Infura said as she offered Red her hand. “Here, lead me out, I'll focus on them.”
“Holding hands already? This can only get better,” Red joked, his voice giving away the roguish grin she knew he was wearing.
Infura ignored him as she reached out to three minds now, and started working on them. As Red watched, the bartender suddenly seemed to decide a trip to the storeroom for a new bottle of vodka was necessary. One of their two observers made a quick line towards the restrooms while his friend started towards the juke box, digging in his pocket for change. “I've got them all covered, let's go,” Infura said.
“Wonders never cease,” Red said and began tugging on her arm, steering them both towards the door. Infura reached out again with her mind and tugged the door open in front of them, revealing the dark street outside. They stepped out into the darkness, and in a moment they were gone.
Inside the bar, the man returned from the restroom and glanced in what he thought was a surreptitious manner towards the booth the target had been seated at, and blinked rapidly a few times as his mind processed what he was seeing – an empty booth, with only a ten dollar bill and an empty mug as evidence that his target had even been here. “Fuck..."
-=-
Alright, well, the original plan was two parts, but I realized that I very much wanted to introduce Red into the storyline. Infura's last lines to Anton have been changed slightly (for those who didn't catch it) to reveal that there is some sort of past history between the two men...very interesting stuff will come of that, I'm sure.
That, and obviously Red's a Scryer too - he states it outright, but how did he get free? Where do his skills lie, if not with telepathy? Infura as a Class 10, even in her crippled state (as she is now) can access almost the entire spectrum of psionic powers, but who knows what Red can do? "Flashy" is the only real information thus far.
This is more my own internal pondering than anything, because I really don't feel like I have control over this story right now. I sit down, it spins out of my finger tips, I post it. I think I know how this fragment of the Infura story ends, but even that might change. Who knows.
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[June 22nd, 2007 | 08.11] |
My Inner Hero - Wizard!
There are many types of magic, but all require a sharp mind and a cool head. There is no puzzle I can't solve, no problem I can't think my way out of. When you feel confused or uncertain, you can always rely on me to untangle the knots and put everything back in order for you.
How about you? Click here to find your own inner hero.
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[May 15th, 2007 | 09.05] |
So, for anyone who doesn't know (possibly many), Blizzard is in all likelihood announcing a new game this weekend. Check out their website (here). Also, try http://www.starcraft2.com, www.diablo.com, www.warcraft.com, www.starcraft.com, etc etc.
All turns up the same page.
But here's why I'm 100% convinced it will be Starcraft in some form.
1. Look at the timeline. There are no expansions listed, only full games. This won't be another WoW expansion, logically speaking.
2. It sure as heck won't be a sequel to WoW just yet.
3. It can't be Warcraft 4. There would be no way to do the storyline where it wouldn't conflict with WoW's storyline, and WoW hasn't had enough plot advancement in the past two and a half years to justify a new RTS.
4. Diablo III is a distinct possibility, but go to www.diablo3.com (or www.diablo2.com for that matter). They don't own either domain. This is definitely very muddled - I don't understand why they don't have diablo2.com to begin with, but I can't see them not having diablo3 or whatever.
5. Internet rumors have claimed for the past month or so that they'd be announcing Starcraft 2 at WWI (Worldwide Invitational tournament) in Korea. Korea...the country with the largest density of rabid Starcraft fans EVER. Going there to announce Barbie Horse Adventures would be stupid, as would Diablo or Warcraft games. Sure, they could do it, but it doesn't seem like a smart play. Going there and announcing the sequel to the best RTS ever created? Smart move!
6. It's the only game on their timeline without at least one sequel.
7. Blizzard North was dissolved a few years ago - who would develop a Diablo sequel?
8. Remember Starcraft: Ghost? Remember how that conveniently vanished? The team was never officially dissolved, and Blizzard confirmed this a while back. I'm too lazy to dig it up.
Here's what I expect will happen, one of a few of the following:
1. Starcraft - The MMO! Umm...no. I can picture it now.
Questgiver: Eric Kingman
Quest: Get Back My Wedding Ring
Quest Text: The Hydralisks of the Jormundgand Brood attacked me while I was on the way to the store, and they bit my hand off! I managed to escape, but my wedding ring was on that hand, and if I don't get it back, my wife will kill me!
Objective: [Eric Kingman's Wedding Band]
Reward: 8 [Vespene Gas] 
No. Just no. They would have to make this an MMO-First Person Shooter, a la Huxley or Planetside, and even then, of the original races there's only two that are really playable - Terran and Protoss. (Or, Human and Draenei!) Zerg would end up being the NPC enemy creeps, along with neutral/hostile Terrans and Protoss. Heck, I guess they could actually follow the canon factions, squaring off the Umojan Protectorate against the Swarm or the Terran Dominion or whatnot.
It's possible, but why would Blizzard potentially dilute their market AND their development talent? The skillset you need for an MMO and the audience it will attract are vastly different from an RTS.
2. Starcraft: Ghost is back! Actually, after giving it a lot of thought, this is the second most likely option in my mind, and it would make me sad. It's not that I don't like the idea of Starcraft: Ghost still, having been one of the few people I know to actually play it hands on. The idea is just...dated. It would've been awesome when it was first announced...or first reorganized...or the second time...
I'd still buy it, don't get me wrong, but it'd be with the bittersweet mindset "Hey, this should've been Starcraft 2 by now..."
3. Starcraft 2: The Wrath of Khan...err, Kerrigan. Seriously, how much ass could this kick? On the one hand, the biggest challenge ever: live up to the best RTS ever developed, and surpass it. On the other hand, it'd be like being fisted with hands holding $20 bills. (Sorry for the visual) It'd sell like crazy, crappy game or not.
4. Starcraft: The Portable Game. They could potentially do it, but look at the games that are listed - every single one is for PC. Sorry Rock & Roll Racing, you don't make the cut, and neither does a portable Starcraft game.
So, I hope we're all waiting with nervous, gleeful, Christmas-like anticipation as we watch the timeline cycle through the objects of our rabid affections. I haven't been 100% pleased with WoW, but looking back at all the Blizzard games makes me smile. They still are the best in the business in my mind, and my years devoted to SE were simply amazing.
One last thing - our favorite queen bitch of the universe, <3
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| I think I'm going to make it after all |
[April 25th, 2007 | 09.36] |
Well, I guess I figured I owed it to my friends to explain my latest emo post, now that I've had some time to deal with it.
For those who've read my LJ or talked to me in the past few weeks, I've spent a LOT of time talking about a potential new job with PC Tec Services, a local company that specializes in PC repair, construction, and web design and development.
Obviously the latter is what drew me, as was the fact that I have two friends who work there, one of whom (Dan) is likely to move in with myself and Megan (along with Dan's girlfriend, Kara) after Patience and Cherry move out at the end of July.
I was told a few weeks ago that they'd suddenly had an opening, so I threw together a resume, rushed out of my job to get a haircut, a shower, and nice clothes, and ran a resume over there, and got interviewed the same day. The interview I thought went really awesomely, and I fully expected to hear back from the boss (George) quickly.
A Friday and the weekend went by, leaving me at Monday morning, nervous as hell, so I called PC Tec, asking about my application. George told me that one of his managers was out of town, so he couldn't deal with any applications until the following Monday (Which was last week Monday, actually). I said I'd call him in a week, and then continued to be on edge for the entire week.
Let me segue into saying that I'd been told this position would be making me 10-13$ an hour, plus commission on everything I did, full time hours, doing something I love doing, workingwith friends. Basically, my dream job, at least for right now.
So a week goes by, and we come to Monday. I call him up around 11am, and get someone else who tells me he's busy, but that I'll get a phonecall soon. I eagerly wait by the phone while finishing up a take home exam, and keep waiting...until about 3:30pm. By now I'm getting annoyed, so I call them again, and he asks me to come in right away.
Cue me speeding down the highway, nearly getting pulled over by a cop.
I go in and chat with George, for what seems like a second interview, this time also including one of his managers. Ten, twenty minute conversation, and then *gasp* a job offer...as a server technician.
Wait, what?
I know nothing about servers, other than web servers (which I assure everyone on my list, are a horse of an entirely different color), and nothing in my resume or application indicated any interest or real aptitude with hardware.
So I ask a few questions, trying to see if maybe this would just be a slightly more general job, but would still involve primarily web development. In response, I get vague answers like "Well, we can see what we can do on that end still..." and the like. Nothing that makes me happy, or that sounds like the original job concept, basically.
So George tells me to take the night to think it over.
I go home, and on the way home, I have a brainstorm. He hadn't seen any of my work, and didn't really seem to understand what I could do, so what if I were to jazz something up to show him?
I get next to no sleep as I stay up till 6am working on a project, and then wake up at 10am to continue working for another hour or two before I call him, and try to explain I don't want a server tech job, but think I'd do a lot of good as a web developer.
"We don't have room for a web developer, there is no job" he says on the phone. What the hell?!
So we talk and after a while, he says something about "Come in and talk to me", "commission based advertising and promotion position", "be here in an hour or so". Lamesauce. I don't want a commission based ANYTHING, much less something doing advertising or promotion, but what the hell, I've got the afternoon free, so I go talk to him.
I get there, and he instantly starts slamming me with questions about web design, and web development, and gets my friend on the phone. We go through a really hostile question and answer process, and here's the result at the end of it all:
"Part time hours, the pay rate is $8 per hour, 10% commission. Holly, your commission will drop by 5% to 15% to accommodate bringing Adam aboard. If Adam proves his worth in a short period of time, we can move him to full time hours, 10$ an hour"
That's what I'm fucking talking about! Of course I can prove myself, I'm a damn good web developer, and I know Holly and I can come up with some good ideas to get business.
George tells me to come in the next day (last Wednesday, for those keeping track) to fill out the paperwork. I am Jack's total elation as I drive home, and my friends and I go out to dinner to celebrate. I go to work the next day, and take off at like 3pm to go over to PC Tec, a spring in my step, a song on my lips.
"I've changed my mind, we don't have space for you right now, we might be making serious changes to the web side of things, I'll keep your application handy and give you a call if/when this changes, sorry for wasting your time."
George says this in the span of 30 seconds after I get to PC Tec, and sends me on my way.
Yes, that's right. He offered me a job on Tuesday, and then took it away not even 24 hours later, after shaking on it and everything, after both Holly AND I agreed to take pay cuts to do the job, after I explained how I'd make him more money, after everything.
So yeah. Cue some depression, feelings of rejection, resentment, failure downward spiral emo bullshit.
I'm okay with it now. I realize that if George could flip his mind so easily, working for him would've been hell.
But the money...the job...the opportunity, all gone.
So I've been sort of moping since. Today's my first real day back to work since I got rejected last week, and I'm doing okay. Internally I guess I'm a fairly strong person, built up after a few years of failing, after having bad people in my life who try to tear me apart and tear me down. It's funny how that works.
There is a bit of light, however. Two days from now, Megan and I will have known each other for seven months, and in those seven months, we've not seen each other for maybe a grand total of ten days. She's got to be the best thing that ever happened to me, hands down. I'm supremely happy to be with her, to finally be in a relationship with a girl who doesn't want me for my money, or to prey on my social inadequacies and "rebound" syndrome.
Yesterday, I ordered myself a new laptop. I have one at the moment, it's pretty nice (3.0ghz HT, 1gb of ram, etc), but it's getting...dated. This August would make it two years old. WoW's getting slower and less pretty on it, and the 60gb hard drive is like...nothing. I needed something new, something powerful, something cheap.
Thar she blows!
She's a beautiful machine, and I can't wait to have it. As soon as I get it, and get the money paid off on my card (which should be by the end of the month, surprisingly), I'll be helping Megan order and construct a brand new desktop PC for herself.
That should also be awesome.
Jake rejoined the SE WoW guild last night, after a few weeks hiatus due to the huge Axe/Angel/me/Megan/Jake/Clark explosion that went down a bit ago. I'm not sure I'm 100% comfortable, because I'd really like to see serious issue resolution between Jake and Megan, because I don't like seeing my girlfriend get hurt by people I call friends.
I hear Axe and Angel have transferred servers to an Oceanic realm, and that's a good thing. I've no desire to see either of them anymore. I've once again been betrayed by a good friend, or by who I thought was one, which seems to be a sadly all-too-regular event. Jake and Clark can be friends with her, and I won't begrudge them for that, but I don't think Angel's a person I want in my life in any sense anymore.
Maybe this is me growing up just a little more, shedding old people, old baggage that was only serving to hold me down. The only old SE friends I really stay in regular contact with are Jake and Clark, (though J Cae, Kate, and Jaxom are on the friends list and I enjoy keeping myself up to date on your lives, because you're all awesome as well) and even Jake and I don't talk very often anymore (a lot less recently due to this issue). Our lives are growing apart; a lot of the bond that held us together was SE, and that's been fading for two years. Clark, on the other hand, is planning on a visit to Megan and I this summer, which he's already announced on his LJ, but which Megan and I have known about for a few weeks. From the antagonistic relationship we had in the past, to the tumultuous issues that befell SE as it rose and then fell spectacularly, through WoW, through Dragonmaw, through Aegwynn...Clark's been a really good friend to me. We've had our moments where we've been real dicks to each other, but still, if Clark was the only good thing that had come out of SE (which he isn't, there are a goodish number), I'd still have called all the blood, sweat, hours and tears worthwhile. Clark's one of those awesome true friends. I hope he's blushing right now, that bitch.
I should probably get some work done today, as I've been writing this for a while. So, I'm going to go do that.
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| More WoW ramblings |
[January 18th, 2007 | 10.24] |
I'm going to be putting together PDF files of how to fast level professions to 300 and beyond. Anyone interested?
---
So, I replaced my Bloodvine Leggings, my The Lost Kris of Zedd, and my Celestial Orb.
And then I nearly wept. My pride and joy, my baby, is my Robe of the Archmage. It cost me an obscene amount of money, nearly as much as an epic mount. A usurper has arisen, a blue no less, the Goldweave Tunic
The difference, melted down for those too tired or lazy to do the math?
+9 Armor
+13 Stamina (Sorely needed in the brutal environment of the Outlands)
+3 Intellect
+2 Spell Damage
The only casualty of this upgrade is the "Use: Restores 375 to 625 mana.", which honestly doesn't make much difference anymore. More often than not I forget I have it, and when I do remember, it gives me 2-3 Fireballs or Frostbolts, or a single shot of Arcane Missiles. Though I've had it save my ass when I cast the Arcane Missiles and proc Clearcasting for another cast, and manage to survive where I otherwise would have perished, it ultimately is such a rarity as to be nonexistent.
Compare them. Contrast them. Realize finally that the Burning Crusade has truly arrived, that all that you've loved is lost, swept away in the tides of war.
---
Lastly, playing Ifurita is an interesting experience. Part DPS, part tank, part healer, and all sexy, my cliche Dranei Shaman with Jewelcrafting is one character I wish I already had to 60, or rather, 70.
The new profession is fun and invigorating, and at early levels it gives me one of the types of items I love to craft, and wish tailoring had had, what I call "variable items". Leatherworkers had the "Wild" recipes, and now at low levels, Jewelcrafting has the Heavy Silver Ring. Relatively cheap to make, and I've gotten some delightful results (of the Monkey, of the Eagle, etc), but of course the much-maligned suffixes have also reared their head, such as the endlessly useless of the Wolf and the even worse of the Whale.
My Jewelcrafting is plateaued at the moment at about 100, which is sadly far lower than I'd like it to be, but I'm trying to only play her with Megan because it's really fun to share it with her :)
So there it stands. I'm at work until 4:30, class from 6-9, and then I head home to rejoin the tides of battle in Outlands or around the Exodar, doing my part against the battle of the Burning Legion, and the plague of Blood Elves.
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[January 1st, 2007 | 00.07] |
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HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING 2007!
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[October 3rd, 2006 | 07.51] |
First!
(Because more Johnny Depp isn't a bad thing.)
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