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.

It had been a long week. I was completely exhausted. My body ached; my mind was drained. I finally sagged into the “Hole”, grabbed a “Revenge” from the bartender, and collapsed into my regular seat in the corner, back facing the wall. I simply wanted some “me” time; just some time to relax, alone, and unwind.

“Like OMG! You’re like, that Colonel guy right? I can’t like believe it! Sasha it like never going to believe me.”

There she stood, in all her trashy glory. She was a chubby Achura, squeezed into what appeared to be a plastic wrap dress. I cringed inwardly for many reasons, the least not being the thought that there should be laws against women over a certain weight being permitted to wear that style of clothing. Without asking, she seated herself across from me, the light catching her face, revealing two pounds too much of makeup. I threw a “rescue me” glance to the bartender, who only chuckled and raised his arms in that “Don’t get me involved” gesture. The worst part of course was that she wasn’t even remotely attractive.

“So like, what’s it like being, like, a hero? It must be like, so exciting!”  At that moment, it sounded like there must be a horse nearby, but it turned out to only be her laugh.

I didn’t even know her. She must die.

She blathered on incessantly about the most droning subjects, then suddenly sat bolt upright, raising her hand to me, palm upwards, index finger gesturing for me to “hold that thought”. Thus far, I hadn’t said a word to her so I really had no idea what was going on in that vacant little head of hers.

She tapped a comm implant on the side of her head, and the little blue connected light came to life. She didn’t lower her arm. I guess I looked like I might suddenly interrupt, or break into dance or something.

“Like, I know! He’s so like, totally annoying. I think like, I’m going to like complain to Dean about him. I’m like, so tired of defending him all the time. Until he like, learns to use the holo system, he’s like, just going to keep screwing things up. It’s like…” 

I had tuned her out by then, so apologize if I can’t recall anything of particular value I may have missed.

Five Revenges later, she wasn’t looking any prettier. It was time for me to leave. I stood up from my seat, and she moved her arm to block my path, emphasizing her finger at me to hold that thought. This girl was truly astounding. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, was still talking on her head implant, had nothing of value to offer me, and yet still had the brass to motion at me to halt.

“Deidra, can you like hold on a sec? My date is like, leaving.”

I sighed. I think a small piece of me died inside as well.

“Where’s the party?” she asked.

I honestly had no clue how to respond, which I think might’ve been a first for me. 

“I, um…” I stammered.

“Well like, why don’t we just like make the party ourselves?”

I studied her for a moment, almost envious of her woeful ignorance. There are many things about this situation that would have to be very different for this to happen, the least of which would be a lot more alcohol.

I didn’t want to be mean, though. She just wasn’t my type.

“Look. You seem sweet.” I lied. Her face beamed, her wide eyes sparkling at the false compliment. “I’ve just had a really trying week. Why don’t we meet up here tomorrow night, when I’m, you know, a little more rested.”

I guess my answer satisfied her, as she lowered her arm, and started yammering away to her friend again. 

I made my way to the bar, and paid my months old tab, much to the questioning look of the bartender. It’s not that I didn’t have the money, I just liked the idea of not having to pay per drink.

I walked out the front door leading back into the station marketplace, and took one last look around. 

I was going to miss the Hole, but I sure as hell wasn’t coming back here for at least fifty years. Maybe more.

I’ve had a very special friend in my life. I’ve known her for decades now, since our youth. The story of how we met is quite the funny one, but is not the point of this tale. 

Today is about apologies, mine to her, and how I miss our friendship.

When we were younger, our tribes were of very different status, mine being the poorer, less socially acceptable of the two. Though this never came into play between us, it was something that found root in me. It was the beginning of the blackness. 

As the years carried on, we grew closer in so many ways, yet it was that black root of bitterness, self righteousness, judgement, jealousy, anger, entitlement, that grew more.  I always wanted to be where she was in life. I wanted the big house. I wanted the money, the power, the friends, the status, the brains, the respect. Doesn’t everyone?

Not her.

All she has ever given is that which she has always wanted; love, respect, compassion, understanding, patience, passion, forgiveness, support.  It put her even higher on that pedestal in my mind.

She has always seen me for more than I am. She has always believed in my greater potential. And while I often allowed myself to feel judgement at that, it was never her intent. She is truly a pure spirit. Yes, she has her faults, we all do, but that is not the point here.

The point is that throughout all these years, I have continually disappointed her. Don’t misunderstand. I haven’t disappointed her as a person; in fact I still find it hard to accept that she hasn’t given up on me. No, I disappointed her in never keeping my word; never sticking with commitments made. 

And yet even still, through marriage and motherhood, she continued to extend her heart to me, to extend of herself. Always she was there to make the first move, to open the first invitation, to constantly allow me to be part of her life. And yet always there was a reason I was not there (though some were legitimate).

This was our relationship until a few months ago. I betrayed her trust once again, in what proved to be the last time. I have only myself to blame.

I knew in my heart I just had to reach out to her and all would be right again. Yet I did not. In fact, as the months passed, it was she that called me, humbling me and reminding me once again just how love, even between friends, knows no barriers.

We talked at length about why this pattern existed, and what we could do to break it. It was emotionally raw and open. She even offered to put the past behind us, and build a friendship anew. She apologized for the way I felt, and for anything she had ever done to add to that. I told her I would write her a communication with my own apologies, my own thoughts.

That was two weeks ago. Once again, I didn’t follow through with things.

It’s sad really. I am actually very reliable in every other area of my life. Why do I allow myself to act differently with her?

Enough is enough.

I picked up my communicator and called her. I told her my excuses. I told her the apology was coming.

April, here I am, missing being a part of your life. I am sorry for hurting you repeatedly. I am sorry for not doing what I say.

I don’t want to lose our friendship. I don’t want to live within my own negative perceptions of how things have been between us.

If you’re willing, I am willing to build a new and better friendship.

I hope to hear from you soon.