That was incredibly satisfying. I laid a fair amount of ISK across the clerk’s desk to cover  expenses, then walked out of the video arcade, a huge smile on my face. 

“I love video games.” I thought to myself with childlike glee.

20 minutes earlier

I hadn’t been back to the Hole in days now. Have you ever tried finding a new bar to call your own? It’s not as easy as you might think. I could ramble on about just that.

I had been wandering around the esplanade on this station in Rens VI for almost two hours without much luck. Oh ho, what’s this? An interweb cafe? Cafe made it sound a little gay to me, but I chanced a venture inside. 

Not really a bar, but it provided public access to the interweb. It apparently also allowed for locally networked gaming. When I was younger, I really enjoyed video games. Flight simulators were my favourite. It’s one of the reasons I became a pod pilot. I decided to sit down and play some games.

I couldn’t find any flight sims, but there was a first person shooter game in progress called “Mortal Fatality Fighter Instincts Turbo” so I decided to join in. 

I lost my first game in under 20 seconds. I figured there must be something wrong with my user interface device, so I moved to another terminal. 

I lasted 30 seconds in the next round.

Something was apparently faulty. I’m good at videogames; or at least I thought I was. I kept losing to someone named l1kmy@ss1128. I didn’t know what kind of name that is, even on the interweb.

After a few more matches, I was getting pretty frustrated. I am a determined one though; I hate giving up until I win. I had just lost another match when I saw a little message window popup on the screen. “Why don u go home loser?” it said. I could feel my eye tic startup, and the vein in my forehead begin to throb. I quickly typed in my reply. “Let’s go again.” We did, several times, with me losing painfully each time. And the ridicule continued, becoming more insulting, more abrasive and more difficult to decipher each time.

“U r a fag. U fukin suck balls.”*

I was furious. “Listen you little snot,” I typed. “If you weren’t hiding behind your system, you wouldn’t think you’re so tough then, believe you me.”

“Oooooo, im so scared of you faggot. Let me call my friends over so they can watch me kick your ass again.”

If I ever, and I mean EVER, found out who this punk was, I would … wait, what was that sound?

I listened again. I could hear teenaged boys laughing, then the word ‘faggot’. I slowly stood from my station, and looked in the direction of the sound. There were a group of five teenaged Caldari boys at another unit in the cafe. I could hear their conversation.

“And then he says he’ll kick my ass if he ever found me, so I told him he’s a faggot.” They all laughed.

Really? I mouthed a quiet thank you to God, whom amongst the trillions of inhabitants with access to the interweb, blessed me enough to have my dumb idiot seated in the same gay cafe as me.

I quietly stood up and slowly made my way to where they were. I had to keep clenching and unclenching my fists to keep myself focused, the excitement almost too much for me to bear. When I reached them, I simply asked “Excuse me, l1kmy@ass1128?”. The seated Caldari turned reactively to see whom was addressing him. Thank you!

I placed my large hand on top of his head, pushing flat against the skull before closing my fingers into a tightly balled fist. This ensures that the head hair is pulled from the root, not just loose strands. It allows you much better control of your opponent. 

“Round One!” I yelled, trying to sound like the game announcer.

I then quickly and effortlessly placed his face through his monitor. There was smoke, sparks, and a bit of noise, but otherwise nothing. The boy passed out. Yeah, I thought as much. And what was that smell? Was that urine? Oh man. I turned to the other four. “Anyone else?”

They were all white as ghosts, shaking their heads profusely, hands in surrender, backing away. I turned back to l1kmy@ass1128, and leaned my head close to his ear.

“I win, bitch.”

* editor’s note: all teenaged asshats quote will be translated into readable English.

“She’s almost ready, Colonel. And she’s gonna be a beaut,” my chief mechanic said. Your configuration for ‘er, it’s a bit pricey, so we may not be’un ready with that, but we’ll has ya a fine ship.”

“You’ve sourced it through all our usual channels?” I inquired. 

“Aye. She’s gonna be 4 billion ISK to do up the way ya want.”

Four billion ISK. I simply didn’t have that much, and I knew my corporation nor the Tribal Liberation Force would invest that kind of coin. 

“Well, do what you can. We’ve got what, two days until you’re done?”

“Aye. Closer to three, but who keeps track of the minutes?” He smiled at me, knowing I paid attention to those kind of details.

“Very good. Carry on.”

I simply stared at the Claymore. My crews had been working hard on this ship for almost a month, and soon it would be ready.

While I couldn’t get the parts I wanted, I was still excited about the ship. It had been a lot of training for all of us, but I knew it would be worth it.

Now if only I could find the parts I really wanted for this ship.

I picked up a nearby datasheet, and reviewed the list:

Gist-X-Type X-Large Shield Booster
Gist-X-Type Shield Boost Amplifier x2
Luther Veron’s Modified Invulnerability Shield x2

Yeah, those were going to be hard to track down, and expensive. I might have to try new channels. Maybe with all my recent public visibility, I’d be able to get them.

The anticipation was great. I wondered where I could start in my quest for these parts… what new contacts I had made who would volunteer to help me…*

*editor’s note: wink, wink, nudge, nudge

By now I would like to assume that it’s fairly clear I am a pretty straight up guy. Sure, I may be wound a little too tight, but I am just as fun loving as the next formerly enslaved, primary target of the Amarr fleet Brutor is.

And I like muscle shirts. I actually have quite the collection. They’re easy to maintain, look good on my physique, and just fun to wear.

CASE IN POINT

Yes, I have a muscle shirt, similar to this style, that says “I heart boobies.” I wear it when working on my ships, or when not in dress uniform, or just out and about. Of course, I don’t wear anything when in my pod. 

I have many funny shirts. And that’s all they are, funny.

—

“Yeah, Roc, if you have a minute, I need you to have a small chat with our Human Resources Officer.” Cytral said, stopping me in the hallway on my way to mess. I had just finished a good workout, and was ravenous. “We have a HR person?” I asked. “Yeah Roc, we do, and I just need you to be … nice, ok?” Why do people always assume I’m not nice? Do they not read my blog? “I am nice.” I said, flashing my best innocent smile. He waved me off. “Save it for her. I’m just the messenger.” My right eyebrow raised, wondering what brought this on. Being the patient man I am, I headed straight for HR. I had better things to do with my day than to worry about this.

I followed the directions Cytral gave me, and ended up in a section of our HQ I didn’t know existed. I saw the nickel plated name tag on the door, and knuckled two quick knocks on the door. “Come in please.” was the reply.

I opened the door to the office, and walked in. I actually felt nervous. It was like going into the principal’s office in school. Whether you were actually in trouble or not, you just felt guilty being there. “Have a seat.” she said cordially, and I did, suddenly very aware of the sweat dripping off of me from my workout onto her nice plush leather chair.

She didn’t delay things with small talk. I liked her already.

“We’ve had some complaints from the women in the corporation about your attire. They find it sexist and offensive.” I honestly didn’t know what she was talking about. I dress comfortably and fully covered, not like some Achura whore cruising for a quick fix. Her eyes lowered from mine to rest on my muscle shirt, drenched with sweat. At first I thought maybe she was appreciating the hard earned results on the physique beneath, until she harumphed, almost reading my thoughts.

I looked down at my shirt. It had “I heart boobies” emblazoned across it. Ah, that is what she was talking about. Hmmm.

“Well, to be honest,” I began. “I find it offensive they think I mean female boobies.” I just let that one hang in the air.

She was completely stunned. She sat straight up, the priceless look of shock on her face telling me I had won. I gave her a quick wink, then stood up from the chair.

“Is there anything else, ma’am?” I inquired. She just stared at me, finally shaking her head in the negative. “No, nothing at all. Thank you for your time, Roc.”

I turned and walked away, my best mischievous grin plastered across my face.

Out of Character post today, as I would like your help.

Part of my real life responsibilies include music composition. I do a lot of cheesy corporate elevator music type of things for presentations, websites, etc, but I also get to do the occasional epic soundtrack.

The last few weeks, I’ve been working on some theme music for Roc’s Renegades, the newly formed fleet I command for Freeform Industries.

When I work on music, this is my typical process:

1. Does it suit the environment it’s going to be in? In this case, does it sound like EVE Online, and does it sound Minmatar? Is it military enough? 

2. Does it evoke an emotional response? In this case, does it make me scared of them? Does it inspire them? Does it just sound very cool?

3. I actually watch reference material to put me in the frame of mind. In this case, the big ugly mug of Roc Wieler on my desktop. Does it suit him? Does it suit what you know of him? Does it suit his vision for the Renegades?

The problem I am facing is that I’ve not done much rock style music in my experience, and Minmatars are all about the in your face, move or be moved, kind of rock.

I was originally only going to post my favourite three themes, and have you choose between them, but I decided instead to include all seven, so you really get a more indepth idea of my process.

You can download them in one zip file HERE. It’s Rapidshare, Eve Files wouldn’t recognize it as a valid type.

Here are some notes on each, without any of my opinions to sway you:

Renegades v1: 2:13

– This is epic thematic orchestral, which is my area of expertise. I threw in some guitars for good measure. 

Renegades v2: 4:14

– Wrote some lyrics for this one. Tried to make it EVE centric, with my own perceptions coming through.

Renegades v3: 1:48

– This one is emotional orchestral then wakes up and grabs you by the balls (even if you don’t have any).

Renegades v4: 3:26

– Straight up, hard rocking guitar, with a touch of EVE electronica. Goes nicely with a mild mint tea. I don’t know why I said that last sentence, but it made me laugh. And now you are too, haha.

Renegades v5: 3:16

– Heavier electronica, with some industrial ambience and sampling. And of course, hard rocking guitars.

Renegades v6: 2:05

– Back to a mix of epic and emotional orchestral here. My brain was hurting from all the heavy rock. I think my ears were bleeding.

Renegades v7: 2:10

– More orchestral and guitars.

And there we are. I’ve also included a poll in this post, which will remain open for the next five days. So please, cast your vote, encourage others to cast their vote, as I really want to present a good final selection to my fleet based on the opinions of many.

And of course, feel free to make any comments you wish, as always.