Saturday, March 14, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Damn It's Good To Be a Banker
Damn, doesn't this feel dated?
I never noticed the "Kill yourself, bro." I'm pretty sure I created telling kids to kill themselves, so I'm assuming he bit it from here, no hate though.
So, in WoW, gnome or UD + new WG trinket >> human? Reroll kids. Once again, WoW favors pedophiles.
I never noticed the "Kill yourself, bro." I'm pretty sure I created telling kids to kill themselves, so I'm assuming he bit it from here, no hate though.
So, in WoW, gnome or UD + new WG trinket >> human? Reroll kids. Once again, WoW favors pedophiles.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Chapter VI (Part I)
The water was far too hot, forcing me to wince each time I submerged any air-cooled skin into the nearly scalding water. The bath was cavernous in a bathroom that bordered on ludicrous in size and opulence. Sitting in the foamy water, I looked around, taking note of every detail, doing my absolute best to avoid thinking about the events of earlier, and despite my efforts to distract myself, failing.
I hadn't spoken a word to Alex on our long ride back to Jet's. nor had he. It's possible he thought I was asleep, I did close my eyes, or perhaps it was his attempt at courtesy.
His face was full of curiosity but he probably wanted to give me time to collect my thoughts. Is that what I was doing in here? Collecting my thoughts?
Mania was real. In every sense. I had believed Jet, but being there, seeing her...I focused on the bathroom's limestone tile looking for patterns in their arrangement that almost certainly weren't there.
Jet had been waiting out front when we got back to his place. Alex had called him on the way and very briefly filled him in, saying that something had happened at the Symphony hall and that I was okay, but shaken. Truthfully, I was a little more than shaken. He thankfully said no more, and despite definitely not being okay, I was glad to postpone Jet's flipping out.
I had never really seen Jet worried. His face wore worry strangely -- fear mixed with longing, like a lost child. I didn't cry or have the slightest desire to on the long car ride back, but seeing him brought on the waterworks and before I could stop myself, or him, I was pressed tight against him, enjoying the intensity of his clasp, and embarrassed to be ruining his clean clothes with Mania's handiwork. I demanded to clean up before saying a word about what happened.
I sighed and stirred the water. My ruined clothes lay piled on the floor next to a stack of towels. Removing them was a disgusting challenge. I tried not to think whose blood sat caked in that pile across the floor without much success. Visions of what Mania had done, even though I hadn't seen it, couldn't see it, came at me each time I closed my eyes, flickered at me with every blink.
Feeling a bit suffocated by the heat, I pushed open the windows above the tub. The winter air and the hot bath were a good combination, reminding me fondly of riding in a car with the heater blasting into cold night air. Voices spilled in from down below. I figured I had earned the right to a bit of eavesdropping.
Jet's voice came first and was undoubtedly furious, an emotion of his I'd yet to see firsthand, "Are you hearing this?" I had no idea what the this was, I imagined a television report.
Alec responded quickly and severely, "You have to ask her about it, now." I assumed he meant me. Yeah, duh, obviously me. In truth, I was fine to talk about it. I wanted to know what was going on. "We don't know at all what she's doing here."
Jet was being unusually overprotective, "Not going to happen tonight." He paused for a bit and there was silence between the two of them. I can't imagine they fought like this much. I felt guilty to be wedged in the middle of their friendship.
"I know you're freaked out," Alex began. "But Allie's fine. I'm sure she wants to know what's going on as well." Yes. Thank you. Yes.
"So now that she has information you want, you take the moral highground on filling her in? You're the one who won't ever let me say anything."
"Everything's changed with her back." Alex paused, "Hey, if you were there, we wouldn't be having this talk."
I expected more anger from Jet but the reply didn't come or it was too soft to hear. Being stood up by him tonight was so far down my list of concerns right now. And Jet having been there would have indeed curbed the need for Jet and Alex's argument -- we'd both be dead.
If the conversation continued, it was now out of earshot, which was a mixed blessing in that I didn't enjoy listening to the two fight, but gone with it was the chance to gain more understanding of the what and why behind Mania's actions. They definitely knew about her. Alex seemed willing to trade his information for my account --a trade I was more than willing to make, but I didn't want to hurt Jet by seeming ungrateful for his concern. I knew he was probably hating himself right now and I really didn't want to make him feel any worse.
I felt a tear accelerate down my cheek and glide past my chin. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. I had stopped a long while ago. I must have started up again. I don't know why I was crying. I shouldn't be crying. I turned to catch my reflection in the oversize, polished silver faucet for confirmation, hoping to be wrong. My eyes burned red and my cheeks were slick. Stupid girl emotions betraying my resolve.
I sunk down into the hot water to wash away the salty tears and immediately regretted it, cursing the heat. I checked my reflection again -- my eyes still throbbed, outlined in crimson, but I seemed to be done with the tears, and I couldn't sit in here forever. I had scrubbed my pale skin with enough ferocity to exfoliate down to a sore pink, but even if I hadn't, the heat alone would have baked my skin a blushing red. I caught my naked reflection in the faucet, and quickly embarrassed to see the few remaining bubbles fail to provide much cover, reached for a towel and stepped out carefully onto the hard stone floor.
Leave it to a boy to have a gigantic soaking tub and no towel or bathmat to step out onto. My feet felt slimy as skin and soap battled the heated limestone tiles. Terrified that I'd fall and humiliate myself, I stretched one of the towels in the stack onto the floor for some traction, and content that I wouldn't fall, dried myself off before studying my reflection in the halfway fogged mirror. The thought that I had nothing to change into had been a nagging concern while soaking in the tub, but had seemed a far off problem; now that it was immediate, I was a bit clueless on how to proceed.
I loved Jet, truly and completely, but this is about the time in a movie where the man knocks on the door and offers a change of clothes -- I smiled to realize that this was probably something that Jet would never do. I glowered at my reflection and debated whether I had the confidence to march out wearing only a towel. I wasn't ready yet for Jet to see me without clothes. Well, maybe I was. I checked my pink reflection in the mirror. No, definitely not. Maybe, I wanted to see him without clothes, but not me, not yet.
My choices were either to yell and sheepishly ask him for something to wear, go downstairs in just my towel, or change back into my old clothes. Okay, so number three definitely wasn't an option. Embarrassed, I crept over to the door and called out, not exactly gently, but trying not to sound urgent, "Hey Jet."
I waited a few seconds and tried again even mixing in an "Alex" now and then. And then once more. Still no response or footsteps. That's the problem with this place -- it's just way too big. I wasn't even sure where to look for the two of them. They said they'd be downstairs, but that wasn't terribly specific. I sighed and leaned my back against the door, and after a few seconds of clenching and unclenching my fists with resolve, I exhaled, "Screw it," secured my towel as best I could, and headed downstairs.
I hadn't spoken a word to Alex on our long ride back to Jet's. nor had he. It's possible he thought I was asleep, I did close my eyes, or perhaps it was his attempt at courtesy.
His face was full of curiosity but he probably wanted to give me time to collect my thoughts. Is that what I was doing in here? Collecting my thoughts?
Mania was real. In every sense. I had believed Jet, but being there, seeing her...I focused on the bathroom's limestone tile looking for patterns in their arrangement that almost certainly weren't there.
Jet had been waiting out front when we got back to his place. Alex had called him on the way and very briefly filled him in, saying that something had happened at the Symphony hall and that I was okay, but shaken. Truthfully, I was a little more than shaken. He thankfully said no more, and despite definitely not being okay, I was glad to postpone Jet's flipping out.
I had never really seen Jet worried. His face wore worry strangely -- fear mixed with longing, like a lost child. I didn't cry or have the slightest desire to on the long car ride back, but seeing him brought on the waterworks and before I could stop myself, or him, I was pressed tight against him, enjoying the intensity of his clasp, and embarrassed to be ruining his clean clothes with Mania's handiwork. I demanded to clean up before saying a word about what happened.
I sighed and stirred the water. My ruined clothes lay piled on the floor next to a stack of towels. Removing them was a disgusting challenge. I tried not to think whose blood sat caked in that pile across the floor without much success. Visions of what Mania had done, even though I hadn't seen it, couldn't see it, came at me each time I closed my eyes, flickered at me with every blink.
Feeling a bit suffocated by the heat, I pushed open the windows above the tub. The winter air and the hot bath were a good combination, reminding me fondly of riding in a car with the heater blasting into cold night air. Voices spilled in from down below. I figured I had earned the right to a bit of eavesdropping.
Jet's voice came first and was undoubtedly furious, an emotion of his I'd yet to see firsthand, "Are you hearing this?" I had no idea what the this was, I imagined a television report.
Alec responded quickly and severely, "You have to ask her about it, now." I assumed he meant me. Yeah, duh, obviously me. In truth, I was fine to talk about it. I wanted to know what was going on. "We don't know at all what she's doing here."
Jet was being unusually overprotective, "Not going to happen tonight." He paused for a bit and there was silence between the two of them. I can't imagine they fought like this much. I felt guilty to be wedged in the middle of their friendship.
"I know you're freaked out," Alex began. "But Allie's fine. I'm sure she wants to know what's going on as well." Yes. Thank you. Yes.
"So now that she has information you want, you take the moral highground on filling her in? You're the one who won't ever let me say anything."
"Everything's changed with her back." Alex paused, "Hey, if you were there, we wouldn't be having this talk."
I expected more anger from Jet but the reply didn't come or it was too soft to hear. Being stood up by him tonight was so far down my list of concerns right now. And Jet having been there would have indeed curbed the need for Jet and Alex's argument -- we'd both be dead.
If the conversation continued, it was now out of earshot, which was a mixed blessing in that I didn't enjoy listening to the two fight, but gone with it was the chance to gain more understanding of the what and why behind Mania's actions. They definitely knew about her. Alex seemed willing to trade his information for my account --a trade I was more than willing to make, but I didn't want to hurt Jet by seeming ungrateful for his concern. I knew he was probably hating himself right now and I really didn't want to make him feel any worse.
I felt a tear accelerate down my cheek and glide past my chin. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. I had stopped a long while ago. I must have started up again. I don't know why I was crying. I shouldn't be crying. I turned to catch my reflection in the oversize, polished silver faucet for confirmation, hoping to be wrong. My eyes burned red and my cheeks were slick. Stupid girl emotions betraying my resolve.
I sunk down into the hot water to wash away the salty tears and immediately regretted it, cursing the heat. I checked my reflection again -- my eyes still throbbed, outlined in crimson, but I seemed to be done with the tears, and I couldn't sit in here forever. I had scrubbed my pale skin with enough ferocity to exfoliate down to a sore pink, but even if I hadn't, the heat alone would have baked my skin a blushing red. I caught my naked reflection in the faucet, and quickly embarrassed to see the few remaining bubbles fail to provide much cover, reached for a towel and stepped out carefully onto the hard stone floor.
Leave it to a boy to have a gigantic soaking tub and no towel or bathmat to step out onto. My feet felt slimy as skin and soap battled the heated limestone tiles. Terrified that I'd fall and humiliate myself, I stretched one of the towels in the stack onto the floor for some traction, and content that I wouldn't fall, dried myself off before studying my reflection in the halfway fogged mirror. The thought that I had nothing to change into had been a nagging concern while soaking in the tub, but had seemed a far off problem; now that it was immediate, I was a bit clueless on how to proceed.
I loved Jet, truly and completely, but this is about the time in a movie where the man knocks on the door and offers a change of clothes -- I smiled to realize that this was probably something that Jet would never do. I glowered at my reflection and debated whether I had the confidence to march out wearing only a towel. I wasn't ready yet for Jet to see me without clothes. Well, maybe I was. I checked my pink reflection in the mirror. No, definitely not. Maybe, I wanted to see him without clothes, but not me, not yet.
My choices were either to yell and sheepishly ask him for something to wear, go downstairs in just my towel, or change back into my old clothes. Okay, so number three definitely wasn't an option. Embarrassed, I crept over to the door and called out, not exactly gently, but trying not to sound urgent, "Hey Jet."
I waited a few seconds and tried again even mixing in an "Alex" now and then. And then once more. Still no response or footsteps. That's the problem with this place -- it's just way too big. I wasn't even sure where to look for the two of them. They said they'd be downstairs, but that wasn't terribly specific. I sighed and leaned my back against the door, and after a few seconds of clenching and unclenching my fists with resolve, I exhaled, "Screw it," secured my towel as best I could, and headed downstairs.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
OrangeMarmalade Fan Club
YOU ARE SO GOOD THAT I DON'T WANT TO PLAY MY MAGE BECAUSE IT IS A DISGRACE
I LIKE HOW ALL MY TEAMS TOLD ME THAT I SHOULDN'T PLAY ARCANE ANYMORE BECAUSE FROST WAS "BETTER." FUCK ALL OF YOU HATERS WHO'VE BEEN HOLDING ME BACK.
FUCKING CALLED.
In all "seriousness", that was amazing, and anyone bitching about the rule is a huge nerd. In fighters, if you play a slow character and lose to a turtle/pecker because he time stalls, it's not different than healer vs dps. It's just part of the game and you plan accordingly. Honestly, giving the priest 20 minutes to go for a rez, is pretty generous as a kill on either side is not really possible.
The way the Koreans run RMP is very interesting -- their execution is just much much better. It's not just the burst/spike; spike the priest into a pain suppression and the poly on the priest is already being cast before he can get around the corner and the rogue is already onto the second target.
There are no American mages playing on the level of the Koreans right now imo. Go and watch the matches in more detail if you want to see the mage vs mage cc going on. Ice Blocking IMP CS and dropping block to cs poly even with mage armor up? I don't think many mages have the confidence in their survivability as Arcane to play as aggressively as the Koreans. The use of pom sheep on priests to enable pressure on their first target is pretty hot and not really popular at all over here. The koreans also make heavy use of imp blink + poly casts to frustrate interrupts which isn't anything new but not popular as again it is a risky way to use blink.
Awesome matches. And as much as I love OM, HON's priest Numberone had some AMAZING plays. First round in Blade's Edge was epic as fuck.
I LIKE HOW ALL MY TEAMS TOLD ME THAT I SHOULDN'T PLAY ARCANE ANYMORE BECAUSE FROST WAS "BETTER." FUCK ALL OF YOU HATERS WHO'VE BEEN HOLDING ME BACK.
FUCKING CALLED.
In all "seriousness", that was amazing, and anyone bitching about the rule is a huge nerd. In fighters, if you play a slow character and lose to a turtle/pecker because he time stalls, it's not different than healer vs dps. It's just part of the game and you plan accordingly. Honestly, giving the priest 20 minutes to go for a rez, is pretty generous as a kill on either side is not really possible.
The way the Koreans run RMP is very interesting -- their execution is just much much better. It's not just the burst/spike; spike the priest into a pain suppression and the poly on the priest is already being cast before he can get around the corner and the rogue is already onto the second target.
There are no American mages playing on the level of the Koreans right now imo. Go and watch the matches in more detail if you want to see the mage vs mage cc going on. Ice Blocking IMP CS and dropping block to cs poly even with mage armor up? I don't think many mages have the confidence in their survivability as Arcane to play as aggressively as the Koreans. The use of pom sheep on priests to enable pressure on their first target is pretty hot and not really popular at all over here. The koreans also make heavy use of imp blink + poly casts to frustrate interrupts which isn't anything new but not popular as again it is a risky way to use blink.
Awesome matches. And as much as I love OM, HON's priest Numberone had some AMAZING plays. First round in Blade's Edge was epic as fuck.
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