WE ARE NATION

Shae has retired gracefully into the Guristas.

This leaves me with the convenient opportunity to follow up on a promise I made to a friend ages ago and join True Slave Foundations, a corporation operating in support of Sansha's Nation.

See you in space ;3

Skullbunny

So I got a tattoo today. Well, yesterday; it's technically tomorrow right now.

It's not my first tattoo, or even my second. It does, however, show where my loyalties lie.

Gurista for life, baby.

Down the Rabbit Hole

The industry is absorptive.

By that I mean, the more involved you get, the less you can talk about to people who don't work for the same company.

Also, there's the fun part of telling people what you do for a living. Most people look sceptical until I tell them I do customer support. The few in the know will be envious; then I get to pimp the awesomeness.

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't look forward to going to work. The people I work with are awesome, the people I do my best to help every day are great, and the job satisfaction is pretty darn high right now. We're all in a much better situation than we were a bit over a year ago.

I've helped playtest the World of Darkness game our team here in Atlanta has been busting their arses on. I can't say anything about it other than OMG is it fun, and I cannot wait to see their baby go live.

Speaking of live, we got roped into demoing DUST 514 for the media last week. That was a long ass day, considering the people we were showing off for were four time zones behind us. Anyone who knows me knows I'm an idiot with a console system, and I had a blister threatening on my left thumb after 4 hours of running around and dying spectacularly. If you watch this walkthrough video, you can see Brandon nearly kill me with a laser while I'm booking it across the field. To avoid the laser. Because lasers hurt, duh.

And now I'm in the middle of preparing to move to our office in Iceland! So I can say with absolute certainty that I will see you at FanFest 2013 ^_^

Typecasting

Somebody recently told me that, since I'm a woman working in the male-dominated games industry, I ought to be super competitive. Mind, this was another woman telling me this over a game of pool that she was getting absolutely rabid about, and pool is a game where I'm far more interested in making that tricky shot than in actually winning.

But no, I don't consider myself particularly competitive. I prefer to succeed over my own best than over another person's worst.

People talk a lot about personality types. Alpha types, and Beta types; those who lead and those who follow. But there's one personality type that isn't considered very much, yet shines brightest in games such as EVE Online.

As long as we're talking pack mentality, let's break it down. Alpha-male/female is the ambitious leader type. You'll find them starting corporations, displaying initiative in new mercantile or wormhole ventures, and FCing immense operations. Beta-male/female gravitates towards strong, charismatic leadership, and while they're not the pushovers that makes them sound, they prefer to sit back and enjoy the ride.

But then you get your Lone Wolf-type personalities. These are the sorts of players who will happily sit in the passenger seat with the Betas, but when they see a need for something that they can provide, they'll rarely let someone else take the credit for it. If they end up in a disagreeable situation, their first response is to say, "Bugger this for a game of soldiers, then, you boys have fun with that," and go looking for something that benefits them more.

Do you know what happens when Lone Wolves choose to lead? You get corporations started by someone who's fed up with everything else and who just wants to dance to their own drum for a while. good examples of this quality are Hellcats and Veto. (I would love to give more examples, but I've little experience with other corporations that aren't headed up by an A-type.)

As leaders, Lone Wolf personality types appeal to all personality types: An Alpha will see opportunity for easy advancement, a Beta will see a charismatic leader, and other Lone Wolves will see a kindred spirit who will likely understand them better than most. A Lone Wolf who takes a leadership position will often be bemused by the number of followers they acquire.

There are some very positive points about Lone Wolves as leaders:

- They're fantastic at figuring out who's best for what jobs and delegating accordingly; they prefer to be able to trust people to do things well, rather than taking the full task upon themselves and becoming overloaded and stressed out.

- Speaking of stress, they prefer to avoid it as much as possible and make certain that everyone is enjoying things the way they are; if people aren't happy, they'll be diplomatic and try to find a solution.

- They won't kick up a fuss if a few corp members decide to go do their own thing for a while; they understand that everyone needs a break, and you won't get kicked out if you choose to take time off to build up your wallet or go on a killing spree in Providence for a weekend.

- They'll encourage their followers to develop their skills and experience independently in areas of personal interest, rather than shoe-horning people into roles that need to be filled. This may leave fleet complements lopsided, but it ensures that, whatever each member is flying, they've got damn good with it.

- Lone Wolf leaders bear no ill will to followers who decide the group isn't a good fit and who choose to leave without rancor. They understand that your personal comfort in the group is important to you, and won't attempt to guilt-trip you into staying.

Balancing those good points, however, are a few very strong negatives:

- Alphas expecting an easy ride to the top are guaranteed to be disappointed; Lone Wolves do not do rank progression. Positions of responsibility are granted as part of the delegation process to corporate members who have earned the privilege; seniority has little to do with it.

- Betas hoping for a guiding hand may swiftly become disenchanted: Lone Wolves expect those following them to be able to make their own fun when bored, rather than relying wholly on the leadership.

- While diplomatic and largely democratic, it is still the Lone Wolf's party, and if they want to listen to The Prodigy, that's what's going on the sound system. A benevolent dictator, they will listen to all concerns and input, and every bit of it will matter, but the final decision is all theirs; if you don't like it, you can either deal with it, or take your toys and go elsewhere.

- Lone Wolves favour their own. This isn't out of any sort of personality type nepotism; it's a subliminal preference for others who share similar qualities and the feeling that they can trust them more with responsibilities

- If the Lone Wolf gets tired of leading, the group will fall apart shortly thereafter. They ARE the glue holding things together, sitting behind the steering-wheel while the rest of the group provides the power. Power without guidance can end you up in a lake or halfway up a tree, neither of which is an ideal position to rebuild from.

Your CEO may be a Lone Wolf if:

- They allow the corporate membership autonomy and prefer to let the directors do the leading.

- When challenged by another player on a point of skill or knowledge, they either shrug it off or readily admit that they aren't an expert. Lone Wolves don't see the point in proving themselves in front of others, as long as they know where their own strengths and weaknesses lie.

- If a member leaves in a fit of pique, the standard response is, "Well, fuck 'em." lone Wolves aren't going to go to great lengths to retain people who are easily upset.

Care and feeding of your Lone Wolf leader:

- Do take initiative. Even if it's not your thing, pushing your personal comfort zone will earn you respect; doing so and achieving success may earn you a bit more responsibility further down the line.

- Don't badger them. Pestering your Lone Wolf CEO is the easiest way to find yourself back in NPC corp without a second chance.

- Remember that they call the shots. You could argue their decision til you're blue in the face, or you can save yourself the effort and choose whether to try it or go elsewhere.

- If you have an issue with something, bloody well say so. Nursing a grudge will lose you those valuable Lone Wolf Respect Points. Bonus respect points if you can work out personal differences between yourself and another corpmate without coming to blows.

- Do remember that they aren't mind-readers. They won't know there's a problem if you say nothing; conversely, they won't know you're enjoying things if you stay silent. Communication is a key feature of the Lone Wolf's social contracts; use it wisely and well.

FanFest 2012

In a couple days I fly out of Atlanta, bound for Reykjavik via NYC. I've been looking forward to this trip for months!

Stop and say hi, if you see me around ^_^

[DA2] Soap Operas and Stereotypes

(I originally posted this on Google+, before I realised it was more of a blog post than a G+ entry.)

I ran across yet another article about how people objected to the romantic interactions that occur in Dragon Age 2. The Straight Male Gamer complains there's not enough content for his demographic; the Gay Male Gamer complains about the portrayal of a bisexual (yes, he's bi, not gay; go play Dragon Age: Awakening, it's mentioned in there) character.

To those who have complained, I say this, as a Bi Female Gamer: try playing the game with a female Hawke. Anders comes on to you no matter who your character is, and his response upon rejection is the same; Isabela comes on to your character regardless of their gender, as well. "Oh, but that's the stereotype of a gay man! Perpetually horny and unable to accept rejection by a straight male!" Not every LGB person is an uncontrolled hornball. Most straight folk will look at you like you've come from another planet if you suggest that they don't like sex as much as the next guy or girl.

And how do you feel when your crush rebuffs your honest advances? Embarrassed, ashamed, maybe a little upset? In a game where a party character makes the first move, a bit of a drop in their estimation of you upon rejection is wholly understandable.

It's tough to write believable, human characters, particularly for a game, where the writer has minimal control over how the player chooses to interact with the NPCs. Despite my feelings that DA2 skimped on a lot and failed to meet its potential, one thing it does have is very good writing, and the characters are portrayed well. They have depth, fragility, strength, and their own motivations that don't always coincide with Hawke's. What a relief to not have deadweight shop-mannequins to drag around!

It genuinely amuses me to see the (Bigoted) Straight Male Gamer contingent complaining about a topic that the Female Gamer contingent recognises is SO tired that it's not even worth mentioning anymore. How many women gamers have complained about Isabela's design and portrayal? But now the tables are turned: instead of a woman gamer with a female character being approached by busty, lusty female characters designed to appeal to the Straight Male audience -- I'm looking at you, Mass Effect -- it's the guy's turn for their male characters to be hit on by a lusty male companion. Heaven forbid!

The gender ratio of gamers these days is an estimated 40/60 female to male split. I'll assume trans gamers go on the record as the gender they identify with for surveys like that. Let's assume that 10-20% of the male player-base falls somewhere on the pansexual spectrum. By marketing and designing solely to the majority (the Straight Male Gamer), companies can easily be neglecting 50-60% of their potential player-base; the women and LGB gamers will be passed over in favour of that 40-50% of Straight Male Gamers who have already been marketed to for decades.

Here's a suggestion: let's stop with the social divisions. In this day and age, if you want to market a game to as many people as possible, you can't think in terms of Male and Female, Straight and Bi and Gay. This is one place where I feel DA2 really hit it spot-on: all your available romances are bisexual -- that is, it doesn't matter to them what gender Hawke is, they will respond to you the same. Nearly every character in the game responds to you the same way regardless of Hawke's gender (with the exception of a few particularly drunken and/or horny individuals). And the portrayal of your player character is perfect: not overly feminine or masculine, you're simply a person. It's the ultimate freedom of choice which enables the player to make what they want of who their character is.

David Gaider was, I feel, in the right in his assertion they they couldn't just write the game for only Straight Male Gamers.

Suppose we change things up a bit. Let's say there's ONLY ONE demographic to please: the sort of game-player of a given age who is interested in a certain topic. Dragon Age caters to adults who enjoy a solid hack'n'slash fantasy epic where they get to play the hero. When you're trying to build that vital core of dedicated fans, are you going to care what their gender or sexual orientation are?

Stop the bias: create games for PEOPLE.

A Change of Pace

Thanks to the forced change in my EVE play-style -- it is very difficult to get back into the game when I can't interact with the people I've known for years -- this blog will probably not have nearly as much ingame EVE stuff going into it. After all, I can't tell you what I'm doing anymore!

SLBG will be shifting focus into a general gaming blog; at least it won't need a facelift! If you have no interest in reading about games other than EVE, I won't be (too) put out ;)

**Update**

I will no longer be available for contact ingame as I have been re-hired.

Any and all updates on this blog should be taken as personal opinion only; all fiction pieces should be considered precisely what they are: fan-fiction.

I intend to remain close to the community. Feel free to stalk my twitter feed if you want @HellcatBeth. It's not an official feed by any stretch of the imiagination, though I may see about reawakening @CCP_MaidenSteel under my new dev name.

That is all.

Recent Events

My, it's been a while, hasn't it? In my defence, I was hired by CCP at FanFest and shortly thereafter required to go to radio silence.

I am one of the 20%. Last Wednesday, I lost a job I loved, working for a noble cause with people I came to care for dearly.

All any of us wanted was to help make EVE, Dust, and WoD the best they could be. And you better believe I'm still playing the game now. The people, the community and the team behind it all mean a hell of a lot to me.

I am now going to be very blunt and give you an insider's perspective on the events of the past few months.

Let's start with Monoclegate: the massive, public flap over the introduction of the NeX store and several corporate communications being leaked.

I don't like the Noble Exchange. Pricing aside, the contents are ugly and not worth paying money for. I'm perfectly of the mind that if you don't like it, you don't buy it. The threat of including items that would actively affect the game, however, is something I can get onboard protesting. Here's why:

Many MMOs have gone free to play with microtransactions providing goods and services: access to expansion content, gear, shiny things to decorate ingame houses, whatever. A lot of these things have an effect on your ingame stats; I shall call these things "Bonussed Gear" beacause "Gold Ammo" is misleading. Yet nowhere has there been such an outcry against these until it was a possible addition to EVE. The reasoning behind this is simple. Most MMOs provide PVP on a selective, optional basis. Many players never touch the PVP zones; their Bonussed Gear is used against NPCs. Those people who do PVP are guaranteed to be on an even standing with other PVPers there because they have all bought Bonussed Gear. There is no inequality.

EVE, on the other hand, was built on the concept of all PVP all the time. By clicking that Undock button, you're accepting the risk of nonconsensual PVP. Every time you open the market window or contracts, you're accepting the risk of being scammed. Every time you talk to another player, you're accepting the risk that they might not be playing nice. Bonussed Gear, paid for with real money in EVE, would be used against players who had not made the same investment; conversely, it can be lost as easily as anything else if the other, non-bonussed players are better or get the drop on you. EVE's balance is such that a pack of newbies can overwhelm an experienced player, and unlike in other games, Bonussed Gear in EVE would not be as much of an automatic win-button. The loss would not only be time and effort -- as with all current losses in EVE -- but also a paycheque.

(As an aside, I am aware of the MT uses in World of Tanks, APB: Reloaded and other PVP-based games; these games were designed/redesigned around a MT model that puts all players on an even standing and the only thing you can potentially "lose" is bonussed ammo.)

I felt -- still feel -- that the EVE is Real motto does not need to be boulstered by costing players real money to enjoy it. EVE is already Real: the loss I felt when I was unable to play the game as I have done since 2007, unable to socialise with the ingame family I've become a part of, made that abundantly clear. Every time someone rages after losing a ship, or being scammed, or having their corp swept out from under their feet because they trusted the wrong person, it proves EVE is Real.

Now that that's out of the way with, let's talk about the players' reaction to all of this.

You people are rude, when your ire is up. You're so eager to shoot the messengers, you seem to forget that they're only messengers; the message is coming from higher up, from people you never interact with avatar-to-avatar. Raging at the GMs, insulting the Community team, blasting vitriol at Content developers who are trying to create something fun for you with spontaneous live events... this is not the behaviour of adults. It hurts us, it makes us wonder why we try to do good things for you with a game we all love.

Contrary to popular belief, the developers do play EVE. We just can't tell you who our characters are, for very good reasons. I logged into EVE almost every day, for at least an hour or two. For over a month, I had to maintain my silence, close chat windows, and run the game like a solo RPG because I could not in good conscience join a conversation anywhere. Try to put yourselves in our shoes: we're just people, trying to improve a game we love, and we're being abused verbally for it.

The layoffs worry me.

Let me put this in perspective: after all the shit heaped on us over the summer, things were beginning to look up. We'd had an internal reshuffle which was frustrating but gave us hope that the new teams would be able to deliver what we were promising. There were new initiatives that had everyone thinking positively. I felt that, if we could pull all of this off the way we were planning, it could completely revitalise EVE and bring back at least a little of the old game I started playing four years ago. Morale was high, people were really putting their backs into it again. It was going to be Apocrypha 2.0.

And then the sucker-punch was delivered.

I was just an intern with the Content department; I knew if the shit hit the fan, I was expendable, but I was willing to take that risk because EVE means a lot to me. What makes me sad, and angry and worried is that many others who were let go were counting on that job security. We were told we were alright only a few weeks ago, people were getting ready for the office move by buying new houses closer to Decatur, moving to new apartments, getting their kids' schools sorted out. And all of a sudden, the company we poured heart and soul into has told us it can't keep us on.

Some of these people have been here for YEARS and were right in the middle of important projects for the upcoming expansions. They know more about their part of game development than anyone else in the company. I've seen a lot of, "Great! CCP should stop working on WoD and focus more on EVE." I've got a news flash for you: the WoD teams, EVE teams and Dust teams were almost entirely separated from each other. Letting go of dedicated WoD devs won't improve EVE or Dust. It'll just push WoD development back by a significant margin.

Telling CCP to drop WoD for EVE is like asking the Content team at DragonCon when hybrid turrets are going to be fixed. One does not affect the other.

Speaking of the Content team, it's been decimated. They (not I, I wasn't offered this) were told they had to either move to Iceland or accept severance. Most took severance because they have responsibilities here: children in school, spouses with careers, rental agreements and bills and car payments. These are people who were working on the most content-heavy drive CCP has ever pursued. Now they're gone, and everyone's happy that CCP is refocussing? The mechanics end of the game may be in good shape for a while yet, but anything requiring more multi-disciplinary work will suffer.

Will I continue to play EVE? Yes.

Will I continue to check CCP's hiring lists for Content Writer openings? Damn straight.

Will I worry that, because of this last setback, CCP won't be able to pick up the pieces?

Unfortunately, yes. Only time will tell if they can pull through it.

You can cancel your paid accounts, switch only to PLEX, get rid of unnecessary alt accounts, boycott the NeX. I don't care if you're paying money or not.

But please, if nothing else, try to support the people who are working on EVE, Dust and WoD. If you truly care about the future of any of these games, don't rage at the people who only want the same as you do. The support of the community is integral to the success of the game.

And keep blogging. They hear you.

Eye of the Serpent -- Episode One "The Black Freighter"

First launched in YC93, Eye of the Serpent earned immediate notoriety for both its ambitious script and its simplistic production design. Now celebrating the twentieth anniversary of its release, the cast and crew have been reunited to share their memories of the experience, offering a unique glimpse behind what has become one of the Federation's most iconic holoserials.

JAIAL RHEINN (Writer)

"Eye of the Serpent was... well, my first professional work, I'd have to say. I did other holoserial scripts before, but those were just one-off episodes; Eye was the first production I was fully in charge of, and I really, really pushed the limits. I created two main characters, one of whom wouldn't even appear until the second year. There was Adrian Fray, who was this FIO agent working under deep-cover within the Serpentis, feeding intel back to his handlers and trying to-to keep the outlaws from getting too powerful. Then there was Gamma Reyvis, who was this really quite ambitious underling of Salvador Sarpati, who fancies herself a better leader for the Serpentis. It was complex, dark, very serious with... I tried to inject a very dry, gallows-type humour. (laughs) I like to think I succeeded."

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

"When I was first approached by the producers to play Adrian, I didn't quite know what to make of it. It was more ambitious and boundary-pushing than most holoserials at the time, and... I think the portrayal of people like Sarpati, people who are not only still alive but well-known... made it a bit risky (laughs)."

CORTINA HARRAN (Co-producer)

"It helped, I think, that we presented it to the studios as a comedy, rather than a serious drama. It was aimed at a younger audience, though it gained quite a following among adults as well."

NARET LAISSATA (Director)

"It was a risk, a big risk. We almost didn't get a studio to take it, but eventually Essence Syndication Network took us on, with the threat that, if it didn't pay off in the first six months, we were going to be shut down. We mostly paid out of our pockets, and you can tell in those early episodes by the-the overabundance of product-placement that we were taking a lot of advertising money just to keep a roof over our heads."

~*~

A dimness at first, in which dark shapes can only just be seen. Somewhere, sluggish water is dripping, an eerie counterpoint to the subsonic rumbling of a ship's systems at rest. A beam of light cuts through the darkness, blinding momentarily before swinging back the other direction.

"Fray, are you sure about this?"

"Shh!"

"This ship is huge Adrian, there's no way we'll find--"

The light goes dim as the first voice, a quavering tenor, yelps and falls with a splash. White torchlight silhouettes the forms of two men as the taller of the two helps the other back to his feet. "It's here, René, if you'd actually looked over the real manifest rather than the 'official manifest'..."

"Ugh." The smaller man makes a futile effort to wipe water from his sodden trousers. "You'd think they could maintain their ships better."

"At least it means we're not likely to run into anyone else down here." Fray trains the beam of his FedMart-brand NightTorch up the racktower storage arrays, towering skeletal frames set in tracks on the floor and ceiling, hypertensile tritanium alloy shelves designed to house massive freight containers and make loading and unloading easier. "You don't want to think where it might be coming from."

~*~

LARU en KIMA ("Little René")

"The water. That damnable water (laughs). I fell in there, tripped over one of the guiderails, and that was not scripted. They left it in anyway."

NARET LAISSATA (Director)

"At the time, the popular thing was to have holoseries recorded entirely on sound-stages with the set added in later via computer simulation. We could no more afford that sort of technical setup than we could afford to shoot on-site, so what we did was find, well, junkyards, essentially, where there were a few hulls that were still airtight that hadn't been stripped by scavengers. For the first episode, it was an Obelisk-class freighter. If we'd tried to film the series like that today, I'm not sure we'd have been permitted. I still don't want to think what might have been in that water."

L'SIATA ROUVENOR (Co-producer)

"I think the mere fact that we found those locations to film at -- scrapyards we really should not have been in, station hallways with the general population as our unwitting extras, film crew-members' redecorated quarters -- made it ground-breaking in its simplicity and realism. It was all recognisable and familiar to the audience."

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

"Get in trouble? Sure we did. Get stared at, in those ridiculous outfits? (laughs) I had to work out daily, every single breakfast pastry showed in those tight jumpsuits. It was the fashion at the time for kids' programming: you could have the darkest storyline in the world, as long as there was no swearing and the set was all vivid, happy colours. We got dark at times, we really wanted to use the first episode to let them know we weren't just playing around."

~*~

"Sst!" Fray skids to a stop on the slippery floor, an arm extended to hold René back. "You hear that?"

The smaller man is shaking his head adamantly. "I don't want to hear anything except you saying it's time to go, Fray, we shouldn't even be here..."

"It came from over here..." The tall, dark-haired Gallentean sloshes through the muck down a side-passage between rusted-out containers.

"Fray! Sssss! Bring the light back!" Muttering under his breath, the shorter blond man picks his way carefully through the knee-deep water as Fray turns to wait for him. "You know what your problem is? You're too eager."

Fray's finely chiselled features arrange themselves into a frown, underlit starkly by the white torchlight. "I don't have a problem. Do I have a problem? I have a job to do, here."

~*~

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

"The dialogue. Oh! That was great fun. Jaial is a really good writer, really good. It always amazes me when people criticise the dialogue and say it was bad. It was done that way on purpose."

JAIAL RHEINN (Writer)

"It was part irony and part... part social commentary, really, to make the dialogue the way it was. We must have spent upwards of three weeks debating how to do it. The studio was on our case to make it funny, to make it child-friendly and accessible. We had a lot of fun bending the rules, and the actors... I think they took it and started hamming it up even more."

~*~

Fray pauses near a freight container, leaning his ear close to the flaking metal, water sloshing around his boots. A soft tap on the side elicits a rustle of movement from within, and the lean Intaki reaches up to pull the security pin from the latch. A shriek of terror echoes through the hold as water begins to seep through the opening, and René flinches.

"Oh great! Close it up!"

Ignoring him, Fray casts the beam of the NightTorch through the hatch, the bright white spotlight passing across the frightened faces of a dozen filthy Minmatar children huddled as far back as they can. Murmuring reassurances, Fray crouches down on the floor of the container, propping the torch on the floor. He tries a couple different languages until the children react to his words; then he asks questions. One of the oldest, a Sebiestor girl with tangled dark hair, answers him hesitantly.

~*~

FEILLI FARRACHT ("Miryol")

"I was the only one of the children with a name. None of the others really had to do anything except look terrified and go where we were told. They had a boy chosen originally to play Miryol, but he came down sick the day before filming and couldn't get out of bed. They gave the script to me because I was the only other one who could speak a Sebiestor dialect."

CORTINA HARRAN (Co-producer)

"The inclusion of the children's sub-plot and introducing the character of Miryol was a last-minute thing. The studio came down and told us we couldn't have a children's show without a child of the target age being a recurring character. we almost had to bin the whole thing, but Jaial really came to the rescue, it was a stroke of genius."

~*~

Sighing, Fray backs out of the container, then rises to face René. "Refugee kids. Their parents were promised they'd be educated and taken care of."

The smaller Gallente man snorts. "Oh, yeah, they'll be taken care of alright. Probably in the drug factories as test subjects or carriers." He eyes Fray grimly. "Don't think you can help them, Adrian, it'll be noticed and so will you. And me. I don't know about you but I like my thumbs where they are."

Fray's expression tightens, a dark fire in his blue eyes. "Well, I'm not leaving them here to be swamped. The access stair to the next level was over there, right?"

"Fray--"

"I mean it, René." He leans back into the freight container, holding his hand out to the Sebiestor girl. She hesitates only a moment before seizing his fingers in hers, then turning to talk to the other children. Shortly, the two Gallentean spies are leading them between the stacked freight containers, René muttering under his breath and looking constantly over his shoulders.

Fray coaxes them up to the to the dry second tier and over to a dark space in the shadows. Speaking softly, he offers his name. The girl looks uncomfortable for a moment, then says, "Miryol."

~*~

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

" A lot of what we did was very much by the seat of our pants, you know, we had things scripted but then things would get changed at the last second. Originally, I was supposed to close the kids back into the crate with a promise to return, but the water on the floor was a surprise. I felt Adrian wasn't the sort of guy who'd just leave a bunch of kids in a dark crate anyway, but the water really sealed the deal."

LARU en KIMA ("Little René")

"René was... well, he was meant to be a very self-serving, calculating sort. Fray's conscience and guide, if you will. But he always seemed to me to be a bit of a coward. He's in a very dangerous occupation and would really rather not do anything at all to gain attention from the wrong people, and I sat down with both Jaial and Naret to see if we could develop that a bit more."

~*~

"Adrian, that was way, way out of line. How are we going to cover this up?" René is fretting, one hand repeatedly readjusting his collar. Fray smiles mischievously, a grin that would become famous over the next three years.

"I've just thought of something. Follow me."

The taller man leads the way out of the cargo hold. The crew lift is damaged, so he jimmies the lock on the access stairs while René groans in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"Cargo manifest will be in the bridge computer. It'll save us a lot of time."

The shorter man looks as though he'd rather be anywhere else but follows, shaking his head. The beam from their NightTorch flares and arcs as they follow the winding, rusted stairs around the curve of the lift shaft.

"Ugh." René leans on the wall as they reach the top. "Tell me the bridge is close."

Fray points along the hallway, the lights set dim for station-side night. "Just up there." He makes his way down the corridor, René trailing close behind, and quietly slides open the door at the far end.

Dimmed orange light illuminates the curved expanse of the bridge, consoles darkened and shut down. The Federal agent locates the main computer panel and begins to hack through the security. The whine of a blaster pistol powering up causes both men to turn suddenly.

"Who are you guys?"

~*~

LARU en KIMA ("Little René")

"They did a fantastic job making that rusted-out shell of an Obelisk look active. Generators to power the lights and all, and we all chipped in to help clean up the upper levels. The places we filmed in the hold were the same three alleys between the freight containers; there were only about fifteen of them, and the crew rearranged them so that the place looked filled no matter the angle."

L'SIATA ROUVENOR (Co-producer)

"Jaial originally wrote the character of Little René to be a sort of comic relief supporting role, but when we got down to the filming we realised that it would look better if he was on more of an equal standing with Adrian. They're both agents for the FIO, they both have a lot of physical and academic training. The only real difference is that René is very cautious and has been in there for a long time, while Adrian is much younger, a new face among the Serpentis. Almost all of what he does horrifies René, who specialises more in cloak-and-dagger than in being a man of action. It was a different dynamic from most children's shows back then."

~*~

Fray raises his hands, showing them empty, but gives a confident smile. "Serpentis Corporate Security, captain. Can you tell me about your cargo? The manifest raised an alert and you must understand we want to make certain everything is in order."

The freighter captain pales and swallows nervously. "Oh... oh. It's about that, isn't it? I never wanted to carry it, it wasn't my idea but... it's money, man. You know?"

Fray is nodding readily. "Of course, of course. I must ask to inspect it, however. I'm sure you understand the risks involved."

The captain drops his arm, the pistol's amber targeting beam sweeping to the floor. "Y-yeah. Yeah, sure. It's in the secure cargo." He leads the undercover agents back down to a separate cargo level with a heavy security door. Fumbling with the keypad, he babbles, "I-I never wanted to carry it, man, you know? It was just too much of a risk..." Behind his back, Fray and René exchange a puzzled glance.

~*~

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

"Adrian is... a very social animal, you know, he's very charismatic and personable and he has an ability to read people and respond with what they expect to hear. It's part innate ability and part expensive implants and training, and it's how he reached his position within the FIO as an undercover agent."

JAIAL RHEINN (Writer)

"I wanted to show very early on what the characters of Adrian and René were like, I didn't want to have any horrible clichés involving secret identities or dark pasts... the sort of tropes that were popular at the time, there was an utter rash of those sorts of antiheroes at the time, and I thought it was about time that children had.. well, a real hero to look up to."

KEI LeMAR ("Adrian Fray")

"I didn't want to be-be put on a pedestal, you know, I'm not comfortable with heights at all (laughs). But it was... I found it moving, really, when I learned that Adrian Fray was such a great role model."

~*~

The centre of the floor is occupied by a solid crate, anchored by heavy bolts to the decking; the pale half-light of a security field hums around it. The freighter captain takes a step back, allowing the two agents access. "I don't have the pass for the field, you understand--"

The shriek of an alarm cuts him off mid-sentence. Fray catches his arm before he can bolt away down the corridor. "What is that?!"

"Containment alarm from the main hold! We need to evacuate!"

The Intaki releases the captain's arm, yelling over the sirens, "We'll be right behind you!" He watches as the captain runs for the exit, then turns to see René popping the lock on the crate. The smaller man glances up at him, holding up a palm-sized electronic security breaker.

"We went to far too much trouble to get here just to be scared off. Give me a hand here."

Together, they open the crate. Crystalline green light spills out across their faces, illuminating Fray's broad grin and René's puzzled frown.

"Is this... it?"

Adrian Fray reaches into the crate and lifts out a scintillating optical-crystal sculpture, fragile-looking tendrils curving and swirling around a core of light. "You bet it is. The Serpent's Eye. Stolen from a museum in the Fed last month. This thing is priceless and older than dirt. I don't know why they wanted it, but they're not buying anybody with it now." He gestures impatiently with one hand and René quickly pulls a collapsible box from a pouch at his waist and pops it into shape. The green light disappears as Fray secures the lid over the sculpture. "You take care of the package! I'll see to the kids!"

"You aren't seriously going back for them!"

"I sure am! Get going!"

Fray clatters down the stairs, arriving at the bottom with a splash. Looking around, he starts to head toward the second level when a slender pale hand grabs his. He spins, a slender pistol appearing in his hand, then relaxes as he sees Miryol. In her language, he asks, "Where are the others? There's something leaking in here."

The girl shakes her head. "They're safe, near the exit. I pulled the alarm."

Fray reacts with surprise. "You pulled it?"

The Sebiestor girl smiles. "I was in training to serve on a ship like this before we were brought from the Empire. I'm good with electronics."

Laughing, the Gallente scoops the girl into his arms and hurries with her across the cargo bay. "I'll have to keep that in mind. You've been a big help today."

Status Update

I'm in Reykjavik, settling in for some fun before Fanfest next week. If you're going to be around, come say hi! ^_^

Crew Log: Engineering Specialist Reane Mouri, YC113-02-08

I had something else I wanted to record today but what happened this evening has blown it clear out of my head. I don't know even where to start with this, but I'll try.

The captain died today.

No, I'm getting ahead of myself.

It started as just a routine assignment. Not that we really get told what we're doing, after all, we're just the living pieces of the Dodixie Chick's machinery making sure it works the way the captain needs it to. Captain's the one who has to worry about what's going on outside. I always thought I lucked out when I signed on here, though, to be honest, he's fair, pays well, we get time off, and if there's anything we'll need to keep an eye out for, we're told before the ship ever undocks.

I think it was Serps we were engaging this time; we got in a bunch of kinetic and thermal hardeners to install this morning. Can't see outside the ship when you're crawling around its guts, after all. I think it was going well, no alerts or nothing, a bit of turret overheat Gaz and I were called up to deal with. Then everything went to hell.

Something happened, a sudden change in momentum that threw everyone off their feet. Arti-grav and gyro-comps only cover so much, and we must have been going pretty fast. I smacked my head off a console when I went down, Ling fell off the service catwalk and broke her arm. Something ruptured amidships, I remember the alarms doing off, so loud I couldn't half hear myself think. And then all the lights went red.

We train for that, the evacuation orders. Regular maintenance on the escape pods and all that, and we have regular drills. But I'd never before had to actually evac in the middle of a fight. You don't waste time to think, or ask questions. I just hauled Ling up by her good arm and hiked her over to the nearest pod bay, both of us dripping blood everywhere. Ciaran got there the same time and between the two of us we got Ling into a seat and strapped her arm out of the way before hitting the eject button. I got to meet the floor for the second time in five minutes, but by that point I didn't give a flying fuck.

Escape capsules give all crew members immediate access to the Local comms channel so we can get in touch with retrieval crews. As soon as our pod launched, the air filled with an argument between the captain and several other capsuleers. From what I gathered, while Ciaran slapped a mediplast over the gash in my head, they'd got the drop on us while the captain was finishing off a Serp patrol, and wanted money in exchange for letting us go.

The captain refused. They finished off the Dodixie Chick, her beautiful chromed hull evaporating in a cloud of burning shrapnel that shook our tiny escape pod, then snared the captain's own escape pod.

We heard his scream as they destroyed it.

We were sitting there for maybe an hour before the rescue crews arrived to fetch us. We were just... numb. We're just crew-members, we fix things that can't be repaired otherwise and keep the captain's interface running. He's supposed to be an immortal demi-god, untouchable and powerful beyond measure, but to hear that...

When we finally returned home in the care of InterBus, the captain was waiting in the assembly hall. He looked the same as before, though his skin looked a little too smooth, too perfect. I supposed that was the effect of being cloned back to life. The look in his eyes, though... The last time I saw that look, it was on Muri after he lost his family in the pirate raid. The realisation that he's not invincible and that something has been taken away that he'll never get back.

I can't even imagine what it must be like to have your self burned out of your head and injected into a new body like that. In that moment, while he debriefed us and spoke of future plans to replace the Dodixie Chick, the captain looked as vulnerable and human as the rest of us.

I'll never forget that.

I aren't ded

Well, it has been three months, hasn't it?

I've been busy, alas not with very much Eve-related apart from graphics, so it's not been worth posting. I've been ingame a lot, but semi-afk or running logistics in highsec whilst working on other stuff, and RP logs are very difficult to reproduce for a blog entry. I'm starting to understand why many RPers simply summarise.

That being said, the next blog post will be an RP log, modified into a readable format; something a little different.

Veto. Corp is preparing for FanFest. We'll have a significant number attending again, and this time I'm officially a part of it, rather than being the adopted sister like last time. I'm not complaining, mind, it was great to have a group of people I knew to hang out with. The 2011 Veto Bar Combat Wing is getting ready to roll out.
Hold on to your livers, it's gonna be a crazy week.

Three years of nullsec movement

Yeah, I've been quiet on here. I have three separate blog posts I'm working on, so while you're waiting, here's a cool video. I recommend watching it fullscreen, as high-def as possible.

Refacing Eve

People have been playing around with the new character creation setup on Sisi. I was going to hold off for a few patches, but my curiosity got the better of me.

So let's see...

Shae got a little makeover, but not much of one. It took a bit, given the limited options, but I did succeed in eventually piecing together a face that looked right.

Aylara doesn't look a thing like my original character, which I found a bit disappointing. I've received compliments on her portrait before now, and I wanted to go for more of a half-caste look to emphasise her Thukker background.

I'm still hoping for a racial blending filter, since my two primary characters -- yes, I roleplay with them when I don't feel like doing anything else ingame -- are both of mixed race families. I'm also hoping we'll be able to change the relative height of our characters, since Shae, like me, is a total short-arse. Ability to customise characters ingame by purchasing self-designed tattoos would be lovely, as well.

I've heard a lot of people complaining that they don't want Incarna, they'll never use Incarna, and that it's a bad idea all around and it will change the way Eve works. I'll agree on that last part: while it supposedly will not have any impact on the part of Eve that exists right now, there will have to be Incarna content beyond the social interaction to draw people into it. Every single person who says they have no interest in Incarna will eventually venture guiltily into a station concourse, if only to see if it's worth it.

I've always had the suspicion that it could be used to bridge the gap between Eve and Dust: how cool would it be to have an in-person meeting in Eve with the Dust mercenaries you're hiring? How about missions where you have to meet someone in-person and bluff your way to acquiring something? Maybe exploring some ancient ruins? To be honest, the idea of physically leaving the pod to go exploring in a supposedly abandoned pirate base is about as realistic as Star Trek captains going down personally with the away teams. Any captain worth his rank pins will know that risking himself that way when the ship relies upon his control is a little silly. But what is sci-fi for but to suspend belief for a while and just have fun?

I'm looking forward to the possibilities.

Craft

I consider myself an artist. Not good enough to compete for a career, back before I was selected for capsuleer training in the Navy -- Mum tried to get me to go to an art school, and I loved the response my (reluctantly submitted) application received. "Needs traditional background training; too many liberties taken with classical subjects." I never liked art schools; too many people with a narrow-field view of what art is.

I'm much happier painting for myself and my friends, anyway. Little things here and there which make me feel real pride in my poor, self-taught abilities.

I was perusing the Intergalactic Summit maybe a week ago -- I don't frequent such channels very much, they're the sorts of places which on old-style maps would be designated with the legend, "Here Be Dragons", much the way null-sec space used to be. My wandering, half-attentive eye caught the wort "art" and I backtracked to see what it was. Sabbott, a member of the Sani Sabik capsuleer corporation Blood Inquisition, was seeking inspired work with which to decorate his home.

I'm not particularly a fan of the Sani Sabik practises; I consider myself to be a modern woman, and things like that strike me as being just a bit on the barbaric side. But I can understand the spirituality behind it. I do read about things; understanding foreign notions helps you relate better to others, after all.

So I was a bit saddened to see that some pilots had offered up little more than smears of red paint on canvas. I can only assume they thought, "Oh, Sani Sabik! They like blood! I'll paint a blood splatter, it'll look excellent hung above the altar!" It grated a bit.

I had little interest in the contest in which Sabbott framed his request. It was simply the challenge, to create a piece of art that would be tasteful to an Amarrian and a Sani Sabik adherent.

I called Ymnaru. A graceful Ni-Kunni woman a few years older than myself, I met Ymna meditating in the hydroponics garden in the station I based from in Arzi years ago. We've stayed in touch, despite our vast cultural differences and her distaste for my choice in career. I think she still hasn't given up on saving me.

After a few hours of discussion, Ymna helped me figure out an appropriately spiritual image. It took another hour for me to convince her to dress in her finer robes and pose in an attitude of prayer for a reference image; she consented only when I offered to change the features of her face in the final painting. Not that she would have worried over a Sani Sabik seeing her face; Ymna is a graciously humble lady and felt very conscious of having her features accented in such a way.

I hadn't realised how intricate Ni-Kunni formal veils could be. I'm rather glad I decided not to paint a full figure, in the end; her robes were incredibly ornate and my fingers still itch to recreate them on paper. Perhaps I'll ask her to pose again someday.

It took the entire week. As with all things, everyday concerns intruded more frequently than I would have liked, and in the end I missed the deadline for Sabbott's competition by but a handful of hours. It would have been the height of hubris to link to the uploaded final image once the contest was over, so I simply sent it along with a note expressing my regrets at being late.

However, since this is my personal journal, I can put the piece up openly without looking like a total boor. I'm quite proud of it. It was a learning experience, both in the preparation and execution.

I call it "Devotion".

Command and Control

I feel as if I've been here forever, down in the dirt with the rest of the dogs. That's what it feels like; day after day of the same damn shit, the same routine. Maybe it happens in the middle of the night, or maybe it's full daylight. Maybe it's raining, maybe it's been drought conditions for weeks. It doesn't matter. We defend our installation with our lives. That's what we're being paid for.

I've not been home in months. Maybe it's been a year, I don't know. The days blur together. I get shot, sometimes I think I've died, but the latest softscan gear installed in our helmets brings us right back in a new, whole body, the memory of our own blood still fresh on our lips. They spent a lot of money on us. I guess maybe it's because there's a shortage of people crazy enough to fight for a capsuleer.

Things started getting strange a couple months ago. I capture a guy trying to sneak into the radio room, the cheeky bugger probably thinks the stolen uniform would work, but he doesn't have the implant to let him through the door without fussing with the keypad. I strip his helmet off while he's recovering consiousness and stare.

"Didn't I kill you last week?"

The enemy soldier blinks at me groggily. "What?"

"I said--"

"Why are you talking to me?"

I fold my arms across my chest, his helmet dangling by its chinstrap from my hand. "Well, I dunno. Maybe because I recognise your face from what was left of it after that attack last week?"

"No, no, this isn't right."

And then he's gone. Not dead or run away, simply gone and I'm staring at an empty spot on the floor like a complete moron, my hands empty. I rub the back of my neck under the collar of my jacket, wondering what the hell has just happened. Then one of my squadmates yells at me and I'm pulled back to the front lines.

After that, I start looking -- really looking -- at the faces of the men and women we fight, seeking that flash of recognition, a hint of familiarity. Days go by where there aren't any. Then suddenly an entire week where I'm seeing nothing but people I know I've killed before. I know they probably have the same softscan hardware installed in their helmets, plugged into the jacks behind their ears underneath. But it's disturbing.

Any attempts to communicate with them are met with the same surprise and disbelief. It strikes me as odd. One time, I lie bleeding out, gutted and missing my right arm from the shoulder, while the enemy who's so easily sliced me up like a roast is sat nearby, reloading. Beneath his visor, I can swear it's the same guy; the one I'd caught sneaking. I try to read the name stitched to the front of his jacket, but my vision is blurring at the edges.

"Hey. You." I choke on the agony of talking, but it's important -- it feels important. He twitches and looks up at me with a sharp jerk of his head.

"I... I know you... don't I?"

The soldier jumps up and staggers backwards, fumbling for his communicator, and the next thing I know I'm sitting up in the medbay back on the base, feeling beyond weirded-out.

After that, I stop trying to talk to them.

That stomach-clenching sense of deja-vu returns maybe a week later. We're going over our battle-plan and looking at the enemy positions when a chill runs down my spine. It looks just like the time when.... "I want Gamma over here, covering that valley."

The guy standing opposite me scratches his head. "Sarge, why? There's no encampments back there, and they can't get in through the pass."

"You remember two weeks ago, they nearly took out the comms relay because they air-dropped a HALO team in the night before?"

He looks at me funny. "Nothing like that happened two weeks ago. Nothing like that's ever happened."

"I'm telling you, they're going to HALO a team in while we're facing front. Stick Gamma back there to cover our asses."

Our commander drums his fingers on the table. "That's quite a deviation from your original plan Sergeant, but let's do it."

My original...? I lean back from the table feeling feverish, somehow confused. The map had been subarctic tundra yesterday; why in blazes are we in the middle of a tropical cloud forest now? I could have sworn... Squinting, I eye up the guy standing opposite me. What was his name again?

For that matter, what was our commander's name? I peer at the stitching on their jackets, but the light is too low to make it out. Feeling dizzy, I take a step back, debating going outside for some air. A moment later, I feel a light touch on my shoulder; my commander standing there, gesturing for me to follow him out to the rampart. The sweltering jungle heat is like a slap in the face after the climate-controlled command centre.

"Son, there something you wanna tell me?"

I shake my head. "No, sir, I'm fine."

The commander removes his helmet and runs his fingers back through sweat-spiked gray hair as he leans back against the outer wall. "Off the record, I mean. You won't be penalised for anything."

A frown pinches my face in the middle, and I sigh. "I-- Sir, what if I told you I was getting recurring memories. Deja-vu? Or that... I could swear we were somewhere else yesterday. And I recognise some of the guys we're fighting."

"You try to communicate with them?" He's looking at me carefully; not like I'm a freak or anything, more like he understands. With some relief, I nod.

"Yes, sir. There's something strange going on. At first I thought maybe it was glitches from repeated recloning, but now I'm not so sure. Would... they wouldn't dump us in coldsleep and truck us off to another planet without telling us, would they?"

The commander rests his helmet under his arm against his hip, looking out into the trees beyond the wall. "No, Sergeant, they wouldn't. Not normally. But this is a different situation."

"Sir?" There it is again, that feverish dizziness, like memories clawing toward the surface before they can drown.

The commander smiles tiredly, the expression creasing lines in his face. "Do you know the name of the world we're on?"

"Well, yes, sir. It's... oh." I rub my forehead. "I don't know sir."

He nods. "She doesn't have a name. Technically she doesn't exist."

I stare at him. "I-- Sir, I don't understand."

"Soldier, do you remember who I am?"

There's an intensity in the look he gives me, something that sparks in me a desperate need to understand. "I can't... no. Wait." Something finally surfaces; the bubble pops with an audible snap and I reel back against the wall. "I.. no. I know you! You were that doctor, at that hospital. The one that..." Falteringly, I press my hands to my head. "I was captured. Wounded, I think I was dying. You were there, you talked to me, but I can't remember--"

"That's right, Allin." He sighs again. "You were dying. You were the one who cost us billions in assets to deal with that little group of Legion footsoldiers you were commanding. Do you remember?"

I slump back against the wall, then let myself slide down to the rooftop, my fingers raking back through my short-cropped hair. "I... yes. What have you done to me, why am I fighting for you?'

"You're not. Not really. This is a training simulation for our soldiers. You're, uh," he smiles again, apologetically. "You're not really you. Just a memory, a cerebral imprint we built a semi-AI strategic designer around."

My eyes close tightly as I find my hands gripping my head. "Are you shitting me? But... I'm here! I remember things!"

When I look up again, he's nodding his head emphatically. "Yes... it seems we took too thorough a scan, but we wanted the system to be as humanlike as possible. Computers lack originality and intuition. They can't adapt and improvise the way a human does, for all the advances we've made. You were so troublesome an opponent, when your fading body ended up in our possession we realised you'd make a better training strategist than the existing system."

I snort with disgust. "So I'm just a semi-intelligent computer programme, then. One that's edged a little too far out of bounds. The glitches from earlier make sense, now. But if that's the case, why are you bothering talking to me? Now that you know what's wrong, you could just, I dunno, re- reprogram... me." My voice fails as a I realise the extent of everything. Allin Emarchanne, Mordu's Legion ground-control operations commander, is now little more than a string of data in a VR simulation. What's the point of it all?

A shadow falls over me, and I glance up from under my brows to see him standing over me with his hand held out invitingly. "The boys started reporting errors, but because it's you, I thought to handle this differently. Your expertise makes our boys and girls better fighters, you challenge them and as a result they work better once we deploy them. It'd be a crying shame if we had to infect you with forced amnesia after every run. I want to know if you'd continue working like this, despite knowing what you know. I want you to do your damnedest to kill every single one of them every time."

I raise my head and rub the back of my neck, glaring up at the doctor, or whatever he is. "You're shitting me. You want me to continue like this? Making your kids better so they're better at killing my boys?"

His hand still extended to me, he shakes his head. "It's more than just the Legion we're fighting, these days. And we ran tests on copies of your scan; injecting programming only reduced your resiliency."

"Fuck you," I spit. "You might as well fucking erase me, you son of a bitch. I'm not going to be your goddamn puppet--"

Three years

Where does the time go?

20th August 2007, I sat down and created a character named Shae Tiann. It took two tries, because it timed out if you took longer than ten minutes fiddling with your options, and it was a hell of a lot more involved. You chose your race, bloodline and background, and THEN you got to choose a school and a branch. Your choices affected your starting stats and skills, and gave you nearly 900,000 SP. It was a good time to be a noob.

I think I'll celebrate by dropping my sec status a little >=3

[OOC] A Summary of Impressions Regarding Recent Events

Due to excessive travel, I've not been able to properly play Eve for nearly a month. This does not mean that I'm not paying attention or uninvolved (keep an eye out for a new story in a couple weeks, yes I have been working!).

Let's see:

Eva-Gate
I've never been a fan of hers -- honestly, would any self-respecting internet spaceships pirate? -- but I'll support her right to hold utterly batshit notions regarding pvpers. If she got elected and passed initial muster with CCP, more power to her. I will say, for the record, that I feel there are far better carbear/highseccer advocates than Ankhesentapemkah, in particular those candidates/delegates who have tried a little bit of everything Eve has to offer, because they have a beeter idea of how the gears mesh.

Right! On to the juicy bits: I'm loving the conspiracy theories. You all have such beautiful tinfoil hats, and you've clearly worked hard on them. Knowledge of how the game industry and various relevant legal issues work tell me that A) yes, she really did do something wrong and it had fuck all to do with her blog, and B)CCP doesn't HAVE to tell us ANYTHING (that they've stated it as a breach of NDA is more than they needed to say). In fact, we may never BE told anything more about it, unless something explodes (metaphorically).

Hulkageddon III
Not my style of gameplay at all, but I will staunchly defend everyone else's rights to suicide haulers in highsec. Do you wail and call your opponent a psychopathic bully who needs to get out of his mum's basement and get laid when your opponent builds hotels all over Boardwalk? It's a game and you've been given fair warning that HG3 is happening. Either join in the fun or station-spin your Orca til it's over.

CSM notes (I'll condense this down to the issue that was highest on the priority list across the board)
CCP seems to have a little ADHD when it comes to focussing on work. Trust me, I'm exactly the same: I get a new idea, and it supercedes all the other ideas in development until another brainwave occurs. Speaking from experience, this is NOT the way to progress on ANY ONE of the cool things; the only way to make real progress is to sacrifice a little effort on other stuff and focus on only one thing at a time til it's done. Obviously, being a large company which has made very public commitments on several different projects, CCP does not have the ability to sacrifice development time; they're stretching themselves a little thin. Obvious solution: HIRE MORE PEOPLE *waves CV suggestively*

[Rumour] Wormholes closing
Highly unlikely. Have you taken a look at the subscription data around the time Apocrypha was released? It was one of their most successful expansions, if not THE most successful expansion. Why would they shoot themselves in the foot?

[Rumour] CSM is being disbanded
Also highly unlikely. The CSM is one of CCP's biggest publicity draws: no other MMO has anything like it, it's a BIG DEAL both among the gaming community and the business community. It would be PR suicide to disband it after only a couple years. I've seen comments in verioius places about CCP not liking the CSM being stakeholders or something. GUESS WHAT, GUYS! Stakeholder does not equal shareholder. The definition of a stakeholder (in corporate terms) is someone who is affected by and can affect the actions of a business. We, as players, are all stakeholders. The CSM is simply a more direct and condensed route towards having an affect on CCP's actions regarding Eve than posting petitions on the Suggestions forums or babbling on CAOD that they need to fix lag. They do pay attention to those things, you know....

As it is, the CSM exists solely by the grace of CCP. If they want to disband it, they have but to say the word. Sneaking around undermining members one at a time to build an excuse of "it don't work, guv" is not only a costly effort, it could leave them open to severe (and also costly) legal consequences. Corporate suicide can be committed far more neatly than that.

---
Right, I think that about covers it. Comment trolling will see your comment(s) removed because we are not at home to Mr Arsehole; discussion is encouraged, and if you have a solid, well-considered and non-batshit argument to change my feelings on something here, please do share it!

Post-EveMeet

I've returned from a truly epic weekend in Denmark. The 5th BoB BBQ was a total success in that there was meat, booze, lulz, fire, and meat.

I kept forgetting to bring my camera out with me, and just as well, since I don't have a strap for it; I'd likely have left it someplace. There are, however, tons of incriminating photos taken by several members of IT Alliance on Facebook and various other places. Fellow Veto member StrangeR's pics are here.

Cheers to everyone who made the weekend awesome ^_^ Here's looking forward to the next!