Strange Tales from the Beacons #1

I admit that I haven't yet read the changes to faction warfare as I have little to no interest in it if I am being honest. Murmurs from others and from reading various blogs would suggest that good changes are happening though. Most importantly to the charade that was button orbiting and the farming mechanics.

I didn't jump on the bandwagon and roll an alt for farming purposes. Sometimes I must admit though that I wish I had. When you're living the life of a ghetto scrub pirate who rarely sees more than 100 million ISK in his account due to various factors, you do tend to see those rolling in ISK 'Scrooge McDuck style' with envious eyes.

But we try to carry on with our day jobs.

My day job over the past few months included the task of trying to catch some of these faction warfare characters. A frustrating game to say the least. Some of them were often genuinely good pvpers who often grouped up and handed me my ass back to me on a plate, that's all good, I like that. However, most of them were obvious farming alts, their only task to orbit a button and run away at the slightest whiff of anything on short range D-scan.

I have a few stories from this strange time. Here is episode 1.

Placid region is usually a hotbed of activity for faction warfare, a variable mixture of potential targets for the hunter pirate type. I was cruising around looking for a fight, my partner being an autocannon/shield Thrasher. I remember it was just after downtime so it wasn't that busy. I think I was in Agoze or Loes, I forget now.

IRL ~ I looked out of the window. It was just after midday but it was dull and raining, black clouds loomed overhead as the rain bounced off the floor. I felt that feeling you get when you realise how safe you are inside, away from the storm. You could say I felt like I was inside my own faction warfare site, nothing to intrude on my little bubble. I heard a crack of thunder in the distance.

I warped in on the acceleration gate, the same old drill--hope to catch them off guard and sneak up and cause some chaos. Or maybe hope that they'd take the fight and I'd die trying. Two Incursus and a Rifter were my potential prize. 

As I landed on grid they bolted like spooked rabbits and I felt very much like the fox. I caught a glimpse of them warping to the sun. I followed.

I landed on the sun and they scattered once again. Frustrating. I decided, like I do in most cases like this to simply wait on their acceleration gate hoping they'd come back. I landed at 10 and waited.

IRL ~ The rain was smashing against the window. I remember thinking to myself I'm glad I am not out there. I have a dog, a Jack Russell, who was laying next to me watching me play. Well, he was watching outside and he had spotted his prey. For anybody who owns a Jack Russell you'll know they like to bark, yappy little fuckers. I opened my door and he bolted downstairs.

OH Sh*t! The postman. What I thought was my dog barking at another dog outside or a cat or a bird or a squirrel or anything that couldn't invade my bubble of safety, it was the god-damned postman. The eternal second enemy of the Jack Russell, only second due to the fact that the vacuum cleaner is a mysterious beast indeed.

A mad panic ensued. I got up out of my chair and tripped over my headset that was still on my head. Wires ripping from the back of the pc as I faceplanted the floor. I could hear the dog charging for the letters and growling playfully as if it was one big game. 

The task of retrieving mail from under a frenzied Jack Russell's nose is no easy task. Sharp scissor bites can cut easily through flesh. This was a warzone. I grabbed the little fuck by the tail and he bit me hard. I grabbed a handful of letters but most of them were already ruined. 

The dog sat on his back legs, tail wagging and mouth open, loveable smile as if he was thanking me for letting him out to play the postman game.

I went to the kitchen and began the game of letters jigsaw. It took a good 10-15 minutes to put the letters back together. I also had a cup of tea whilst I was doing this. And then I remembered ... oh noes! My Thrasher! Oh noes! Did I have any implants!?!

I ran back upstairs ...

Local was empty. My Thrasher was still sitting there in full health. And then I read local. All 20 minutes worth of it. It was a big old scroll up the channel. It was hilarious. I was being accused of all things under the sun. I was this sudden hate figure, even though I wasn't there. 

WHY DONT U JUST GO AWAY AND FIND SOMEBODY WHO WANS TO FIGHT!

WE NO WHAT YOU DOIN LOLZMAN 

THIS IS BORING NOW CMON WE NOT GONNA FIGHT YOU MAN!!!1

WE NOT FIGHTING A FRASHER IN FRIGS WE JUS DOIN FW DUDE

YOU ARE A FAGGOT

GO TO HELL

I chuckled to myself. All this vitriol and all the time they could have just warped on down and popped my ass, podded me and then danced on the corpse.

Ah faction warfare people. I love you really.

Hi my name's Colby and I eat letters and I am scared of vacuum  cleaners and  I chase cats 'erry day woof.

MB.