Thread: Revelations from Patch 5.2

Originally Posted by Cilia

Ahem. The correct term is Disassociative Identity Disorder.

That said, don't feed the trolls.

I don't believe Lutefisk is a troll. Just eccentric.

Also considering that everything mentioning D.I.D. makes note that it was once M.P.D. the change in name was mostly one of semantics. They describe the same mental disorder.

SUPER FIRMAMENT FIXER 2.22 TURBO HD REMIX

Once, There Was a Whole Lot of Pointless Exposition

Did Handeloup's daughter ever learn to cook anything edible? You can't always lean on hollandaise sauce as a crutch. The Dish That Must Not Be Named was pulled from the menu before I started school so the only lunchtime horror story I have to tell about is the blood dumpling soup in the first grade, just thinking about it makes me feel sick. Home cooking intake mostly consisted of starches, animal proteins and non-icky veggies and fruit, I didn't make much use of the salad tables until I was well out of my teens. And as grannies are won't to do mine also cooked a lot. The standout recipes would be herring steaks, salmon soup and rhubarb pie from my father's side and meringue desserts and meatballs fried in a cast iron skillet from my mother's side. Oh, and the one true hot chocolate recipe; whole milk and van Houten cocoa.

I was born in the not so small village where I reside now, but before settling down here again we moved around the country so much I need all my fingers and toes to keep track of the previous addresses. Over the course of compulsory education I attended six different schools. Some of the kids and the teachers in the class photos I still recognize but the others are faces without names.

Another reason why Ravana is memorable is that he melted my toaster desktop's old graphics card. The first clear of Thok ast Thok was so janky that I took a short break from the game to upgrade into a newer GeForce model before proceeding any further in the story.

A dialogue choice is not a way to express yourself. Customizing a character's appearance is a feature I can ignore if I feel like rocking the clownsuit look. Choosing a playstyle to main can be based on the flavor of class fantasy or how fun the mechanics feel but if nothing catches my interest I can try out another game. Picking the least worst option from the list of words that the writers will put into my mouth is an annoying chore most of the time. If the writing glossed over my replies I could at least think of something to fill in the gaps that doesn't feel out of character.

Morbid curiosity to see what kind of a hellhole gives rise to crazy stories of griefing and drama is what led me into the stint with ship spinning. My taste in video games has slightly changed from those days but making stuff blow up in space was fun. And WoW is WoW, need I say more? I kind of regret not going with a druid or a paladin for that sweet multirole spec tree but in the end the hunter pet selection (OH MY GOD IT'S A DEVILSAUR) was too much to resist. The Black Stalker, Skoll, an ironhide devilsaur, Gezzarak, Rattlebore, Hell-Hoot, a shardhorn rhino and a blue sporebat were the homies I rolled with, the rides were plainer than the rest of the retinue. Rams, horses and goats for battlegrounds, gryphons and a Time-Lost Proto-Drake for outdoor zones.

The news about the temporary suspension of digital sales is what got me to check out ARR, I grabbed a physical copy from a department store that has since then closed down. Completing all the crafting quests was fun but the only interesting thing about the MSQ was the framing and composition of the cutscenes, so I bid farewell to the milquetoast main cast after Garuda and went back to shouting kill commands until maining a pure dps class got dull.

When I gave the game another go and made it to level cap, finding a good glamour gave me a headache. The AF1 robe in gobbiebag brown and a ceruleum blue velveteen beret with loam brown boarskin thighboots was the last getup I used before I settled on the acolyte's robe for good. Detailed, but not overdesigned. The brown belt looping over the shoulder against the green fabric was reminescent of the fiddler's new threads so both the beret and the hair got new colors to match. That was on the United Nations Day, ten months and a week before MGSV proper was released. Before I wrapped up the last part of 2.5 the outfit was updated into its present-day form. Like the robe, the duckbills also drop from the first dungeon in the game and the gaskins and the halfgloves are low level vendor gear. Ignoring the level restrictions it's something you could reasonably be wearing when you get off the boat in Limsa.

Two nasty bouts of laryngitis, a chipped tooth from tripping over in a staircase and arm bone fractures from horse riding accidents and bumps from little children are painful, but coming home only to be greeted by an empty cage with neither hide nor hair of its occupant in sight is traumatic. The cavy in question was getting old for a rodent and it hadn't been showing much signs of recovering from the recent ringworm infection so the decision to put it down wasn't that shocking. That it was done behind my back was what pissed me off. Everyone took part in taking care of the second one, the two rabbits and the Great Pyrenees that followed but I was in charge of the first animal in the household because I had paid for it out of my own pocket. So departed the Supreme Dark Deva to greener pastures. The Premier may love surprises but I don't.

But that's enough talk about me and mine, here's something about you and your most disappointing shortcomings.

Dragons Are Not Wyverns

The new track makes my ears bleed.

Estinien is so bland that I have nothing to say about him.

Psycho bimbo sticking it to the patriarchy by slaughtering the people whose lot she was supposedly trying to improve and then making up excuses about being the defender of the downtrodden who wasn't just using them for personal validation was really touching. So touching it made me wanna keelhaul the geniuses who thought that I would feel bad for her thrice and then roll them in tar and feathers.

”Has Edmont stopped beating his wife yet?” is what I'd ask were she still alive. A vile, fraudulent creature like him deserves nothing more than to be fed to pigs but no pig deserves to be subjected to such cruelty. And try as I might to put it to digital paper, no expression in English or any other language known to man is degrading enough to convey how much I loathe that... insult to my intelligence.

For a man who supposedly got the post of the Lord Commander based on his own accomplishments Aymeric doesn't act the part. Bending over backwards to appease beasts that don't even recognize you as an equal is unbecoming of anyone with a modicum of self-respect, be they vertebrates or not. And a dinner date with a fart huffing sleazeball like him is not what I signed up for, but pretending to be best buds with politicians is part of the job.

My feet hurt and this pretentious pity bait of a class revolution figurehead is too loud, can I go back home to Mor Dhona already? Relegating the overhaul of an entire nation's political system into a footnote in the epilogue sequence during the credits might fly in a work aimed at a younger audience but here it comes across as juvenile. The lack of any known historical examples of parliamentary democracy in-universe or even hinting that any parties besides the Designated Good Guys would have sentiments about changing the status quo made the whole affair look like an amateurish author tract on how religious organizations that the writer has a bone to pick with are literally Goldenbaum.

Even knowing that it may have been intended (if it wasn't simply repurposed) as a prelude to the other allusions pertaining to Atheist's Nightmare and other associated writings doesn't make it feel any less crude in execution. As far as I could tell, the only moral of the story was that the eternal adoration of the masses is the Mighty Whitey Savior of Light's rightful reward for showing dumb subhumans the correct way to live their lives by pushing buttons in a video game.

After this diatribe you shouldn't have much trouble to work out what was going through my head when the plot forced me into the role of a mediator in a cut and dry case that I had no stakes in and a very tenuous moral obligation at best to be involved with. I'll recount it here for your convenience if you don't feel like playing guessing games:

Are.

You.

Seriously.

Expecting me to feel even a tiny tinge of sympathy towards those insolent pests? They chose to side with a usurper, they're not in a position to lecture anyone about what is right and proper.



Peace Day never came.

If there's one thing I've learned from honing my writing skills, it's that people only like audience participation when it's their opinion that matters.

I moved around a lot as a kid too. Six schools for me as well.

Also aww, I like the new track Q.Q

Originally Posted by Lutefisk

(Observe)(Wind-up Tarutaru)



Now where did I put that dunce cap? I'm sure I had one tucked away in some corner...

You won't find your dunce cap. I took it when I made my old content solo thread.