You jack in after a hard day's work and you think to yourself, "Man, what's in store for me today?" You wonder at the people who've killed you and the people you've killed and you realize it's all fun and games. It's going to repeat itself, over and over again, with the random computations working behind the scenes to deflect this or dodge that in-game. You develop a memory and perhaps even a vendetta when it comes to certain people you come across every day. Certain redpills that prove to be a challenge and others who -- upon arrival -- are bound to bring an armada of chaos behind them.
Sure, there are others who are not on as often and yet you become so familiar with, so acquainted with, your enemies that you become acquainted with their style or even for a particular style that's been copied over and over, not allowing for expiremental builds or something new. It's predictable. It's easy.
You are going to win and you are going to lose, but it's only a question of when and where. It comes from out of nowhere at times, I tell you! Scary stuff. But I think the bottomline is who has the last laugh and knowing when opportunity will strike.
That being said...
I jack in and I receive an incoming transmission over the Jokerz network. Zion at Zia South? Let's go check it out! Loading an interlock build, I come straight through only to be assaulted by an entire crew -- no, multiple crews -- of Zion operatives, most of them loaded with Ballista, MKT, and Assassin. I know that my time is short and I expect to be tossed like a ragdoll into the loading area any second. Why am I not going there? Ahh, the copied loadouts they haven't quite mastered... Someone must have told them to use knives and hacks, without really explaining how it all works. Well, after half of a minute spent in interlock I am finally dead and allowed to reconstruct what remains of my poor, battered RSI. **bleep**, that hurts in the Real...
...before I reconstruct, however, I receive a comment about "stupid mechs." Who would be so bold as to-- Oh. I state very clearly, "How many times have I killed you, *edited*? Enough times for your opinion to not matter." Afterall, if you're going to gloat when you've got a zerg you need to back it up. Of course!
To which the reply is: "None."
None? It's back to the loading area for me, and it's time to wait for Team Purple to disperse the herd while I work a little magic code into my RSI's loadout. I need to find a way to refresh his memory, but I need to switch up how I do it. All he needs to see is a name... That's it.
When I return, it's pandemonium. Still, I see that the crowd is not beaten down entirely. I notice two Zion running away from the onslaught and I rush beyond the first one, moving towards the second with renewed vigor. It's time to take this one down. Sadly, that is not what occurs but I managed to grab a log of the conversation and yet I keep it short to avoid being abusive towards my peers:
There's no point in upsetting him any further than he was going to be once he came back down from his hyperjumping glory -- thinking he can fly, like the anomaly. It is only a temporary escape as a Zion operative's understanding, as I've documented on the field, is limited by their time spent underground. He would soon be tricked by his successful leap; tricked into thinking he was safe, he would return to try and find a target he'd prove capable of destroying. The Jokerz network recently acquired some level 12's who participate in PvP, so... I was certain he'd find a worthy distraction.
Even better, he'd somehow forgotten to put up his evade shield. It had been down since I'd been ganked, myself. That, coupled with the few freefire shots I'd taken with my Lancet meant I was in luck. The opportunity made my mouth water and yet I had to reassure myself that it was not my own saliva but the code of sweet revenge and clarity seeping into my interface. Alas, the last laugh would be mine!
It is only a matter of time before I am defeated again, and yet I keep it fresh in my memory that I've been disconnected before and will be many times over. On the same token, I'll remind everyone that they've also been sent into loading. Even if you don't remember it, I do. I'll be happy to send you there again, repeatedly, over and over, as long as you keep coming. It's like 7-11.
Don't get me wrong, if a redpill kills me then they win. Congratulations to all the wins in the past and all the future wins. With or without a team, it's still a CQ. There's obviously different degrees of honor involved, but then the game itself doesn't know that. Just watch the trash-talking and make sure your memory serves you well or you might get hurt in the soft spot.
"The End is Near, the Time is Now." | W4rbl4de | Reviled Restoration-CYPHERITES