The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 067 - A Tale Of Two Cities (Part 2)
A Tale Of Two Cities (Part 2)
As I tried to hoist myself into the bathroom of my pod, to wash my hungover brutish face, I vaguely recalled that the night before the morning after my drinking session, I had been contacted by a high-up official in some corporation or alliance that my drunken brain could not remember.
As far as I could gather in my extremely intoxicated and sozzled state, I seemed to partially recall having been invited to visit whoever it was.
I tried my best to visualise the conversation:
In a very dazed sense of confusion and mystifying discombobulation, I fervently scratched my head for a while, and eventually had to conceed that I could only recall a tiny and slight sliver of the hazy discussion that had taken place with this mystery person.
This was clearly not getting me anywhere, so I made the firm decision to give up, and I hoped that whoever it was would contact me again at some point in the future, to re-issue their invitation.
My thoughts returned to the present, and after washing my visage with an invigorating "Minmatar Mineral Mask", I excitedly joined the gang of boozed-up home-wreckers on their whiskey-fueled frigate raid of a poor and unsuspecting local alliance, whose name was quite an accurate description of what we were about to unleash on them:
Maelstrom
CLICK TO VIEW IMAGE
We arrived at Maelstrom Prime and found ourselves smashing and crashing around in the local asteroid belts, spleen-twistingly blowing the enemy further and further into history, with each resounding pop of our weapons of doom.
Luckily for me, in my drunken hurry to join the gang I had neglected to fit any guns on my noble Condor, and as such I was only able to provide valuable tactical support by randomly fleeing to safespots whenever it got too scary...
The entire raid seemed to be very much a good-spirited affair, and both I.A.C and Maelstrom were polite to each other in their talk in Local.
I did not know if I would have been so calm if I had been the one on the receiving end of such a brutal and bloody attack, and I was left with a deep sense of intrigue and wonder at this gentlemanly conflict between these two neighbouring cities.
Our gang leader gave us a preliminary tally of our kills:
I was informed that it was a normal course of action for each side to brutally pod each other during such raids. We had committed a total of 10 murders and I began to wonder if a Yarrish desire to go on another Ibis rampage was imminently about to start building inside of me again...
As we heroically travelled back home from the victorious slaughter of the innocents, my memory began to clear up and I was finally able to remember who it was that I had been invited to visit next:
Oops...
In a blinding flash of recall, I then clearly visualised the details of Maelstrom's kind invitation with a sickening and distinct clarity:
This was rapidly shaping up to become one of the most shocking diplomatic blunders of all time!
I desperately started searching my brain to think of a way to get out of the impending doo-doo that was about to hit the very quickly spinning fan, that was just inches from my highly embarrassed face.
I saw five possible options open to me:
1) Contact him and confess everything.
2) Contact him and deny everything.
3) Don't contact him at all.
4) Offer to attack I.A.C in my Ibis.
5) Do nothing and just see what happens.
I spent the next few hours in a gut-wrenching bout of agonising soul-searching, and it was then that I was suddenly forced into making a terrifying decision...
(to be continued...)
As I tried to hoist myself into the bathroom of my pod, to wash my hungover brutish face, I vaguely recalled that the night before the morning after my drinking session, I had been contacted by a high-up official in some corporation or alliance that my drunken brain could not remember.
As far as I could gather in my extremely intoxicated and sozzled state, I seemed to partially recall having been invited to visit whoever it was.
I tried my best to visualise the conversation:
In a very dazed sense of confusion and mystifying discombobulation, I fervently scratched my head for a while, and eventually had to conceed that I could only recall a tiny and slight sliver of the hazy discussion that had taken place with this mystery person.
This was clearly not getting me anywhere, so I made the firm decision to give up, and I hoped that whoever it was would contact me again at some point in the future, to re-issue their invitation.
My thoughts returned to the present, and after washing my visage with an invigorating "Minmatar Mineral Mask", I excitedly joined the gang of boozed-up home-wreckers on their whiskey-fueled frigate raid of a poor and unsuspecting local alliance, whose name was quite an accurate description of what we were about to unleash on them:
Maelstrom
CLICK TO VIEW IMAGE
We arrived at Maelstrom Prime and found ourselves smashing and crashing around in the local asteroid belts, spleen-twistingly blowing the enemy further and further into history, with each resounding pop of our weapons of doom.
Luckily for me, in my drunken hurry to join the gang I had neglected to fit any guns on my noble Condor, and as such I was only able to provide valuable tactical support by randomly fleeing to safespots whenever it got too scary...
The entire raid seemed to be very much a good-spirited affair, and both I.A.C and Maelstrom were polite to each other in their talk in Local.
I did not know if I would have been so calm if I had been the one on the receiving end of such a brutal and bloody attack, and I was left with a deep sense of intrigue and wonder at this gentlemanly conflict between these two neighbouring cities.
Our gang leader gave us a preliminary tally of our kills:
I was informed that it was a normal course of action for each side to brutally pod each other during such raids. We had committed a total of 10 murders and I began to wonder if a Yarrish desire to go on another Ibis rampage was imminently about to start building inside of me again...
As we heroically travelled back home from the victorious slaughter of the innocents, my memory began to clear up and I was finally able to remember who it was that I had been invited to visit next:
Oops...
In a blinding flash of recall, I then clearly visualised the details of Maelstrom's kind invitation with a sickening and distinct clarity:
This was rapidly shaping up to become one of the most shocking diplomatic blunders of all time!
I desperately started searching my brain to think of a way to get out of the impending doo-doo that was about to hit the very quickly spinning fan, that was just inches from my highly embarrassed face.
I saw five possible options open to me:
1) Contact him and confess everything.
2) Contact him and deny everything.
3) Don't contact him at all.
4) Offer to attack I.A.C in my Ibis.
5) Do nothing and just see what happens.
I spent the next few hours in a gut-wrenching bout of agonising soul-searching, and it was then that I was suddenly forced into making a terrifying decision...
(to be continued...)
posted by 0.0 Experiment at 11:43 pm
9 Comments:
so how are the share sales going?
PICK 4! OOOH PICK 4!
Get in an IBIS and attack both sides =D
I just heard that war has broken out in the south and the distillery has fallen, I'm eagerly awaiting your take on the situation :).
haha, brilliant!
Elisa, The rumour is true, and I am at the distillery.
It has created quite an interesting end to the "Tale Of Two Cities".
The next part will be up later tonight.
Anon, approx 3400 shares have sold.
Rumor has it that you are a BoB spy. Care to comment on that innom?
"According to rumour" everyones a bloody BOB alt. Even I am as a member of Xelas Alliance.
Or so the forum morons would have you think
well, yeah I was a HORDE member until like a week ago. Actually the comment about a "BoB spy" was more of a joke.
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