Angels Fall First

I've been told that an old flick raised the idea that we can be defined by two questions:

1) "Who are you?"

2) "What do you want?"

I'll add "What the fuck are you doing here?" as the third question, and start to answer.

So, who am I? I'm Angelus, a semi-reformed carebear still (hopelessly) clinging to my rapidly dropping sec status, a part-time pirate and a tireless theorycrafter. I am also a new combat pilot who has a hell of a time figuring what he wants to fly in the first place, where the right buttons are and how to not fail every time a fight goes south.

I also happen to be that smug bastard on the bottom of the photo banner.

What do I want?  This one is easier: I roam New Eden in the search of thrills, kills, single-malt whiskey and ISK. The ISK part was born out of obvious necessity: Thrills and kills do not come cheap, and neither does that goddamned whiskey. I'm out here to have fun, and quite often, having fun means blowing shit up. I can also tell you what I don't want: I don't want to fight in massive fleet actions, I don't want to lay sieges to star systems and I sure as hell don't want to follow orders when I don't feel like it. I do what I want, when I want and however I want to go about it.

Finally, how did I end up here? Well, you see, there is only one way truly reliable way to make friends in New Eden: Blow them up. It might seem counter-intuitive at first, but if it does, you'll realize the truth of this statement later down the line. Of course, that means that someone needs to be blown up to keep everything nice and balanced. In my case, I got the short end of the stick. It seems like ages ago, but one of my current partners in crime, Cass, cost me a Rifter. That bastard.

Since then, one thing led to another, and here I am, writing stuff for you to read. Stick around, we might not always make a lot of sense around these parts (frankly, we don't really try, most of the time), but we definitely like to make no sense in a myriad of funny ways. It also helps that the opposition likes to make no sense as well, which makes for some funny killmails (or lossmails).

As a parting shot: If I had one piece of advice to give someone starting out in New Eden: Go get blown up. Nothing stirs up the butterfly effect as much as the expanding debris cloud of a dead ship.

Trust me. I've been on both ends.

Fly well,

Ang.

Dred's Intro to Thanks For the Belt Roam

Warning: This blog contains strong adult language, strong sexual content, and brief partial nudity. It has been rated R by CONCORD.  But they don't matter unless they are shooting my ship. 

Two years. I reached that benchmark. I'm not bitter. I'm not a vet. I do stupid noob shit all the time. I can't remember a roam that I FC'ed where I didn't have to explain that, "Yes, you should be doing as the FC says, not as the FC does." I make the same mistakes multiple times. I take pleasure in causing a ruckus amongst my fellow capsuleers. I am an isk sink. Somehow, in the midst of all the noobery and bullshit and smoke and booze fueled roams, a small community has developed in the public channel for the corp I started three months into the game. Fuck knows why. I'm pretty sure I tried to shoot at every one of those guys at least once. By the way, I'm the third guy down. You can call me Dred. The rest of the guys will introduce themselves at some point.

A while back Siva sent out a mail asking our group of degenerates if we would be interested in co-writing a blog. He proposed chronicling our adventures in the likes of Flight of Dragons or Rifter Drifter. Cass of course responded right away saying he was down. Tan, and Craig were both down. Being the long-winded motherfucker I am I took a minute, responded yes in a few paragraphs of blather, and began writing. I wanted to take a different route however. I don't keep a log open during my fights. I don't keep track of how much money I make (or lose in my case) from PvP. I generally don't even remember to turn everything on, so I sure as shit don't want to fraps my fights. So I figured I wouldn't necessarily blog battle reports in that style. People have done it better then I could already. Honestly, if I were to really analyze myself as a pilot, I'd probably fire myself and then I wouldn't be playing so that would be pointless. Instead, I plan on writing about whatever the fuck pops into my head. Here is a short list: roams, politricks, suicide ganks, hilariousness, depravity, rifters, exotic dancers, drugs, recruiting, orgies, fukung, stealth hot drops, horrible fails, microcosms, synergy, canadians, rifters, hurricane bob, the merits of having a strong maritime presence as a landlocked country, penis jokes, excellent adventures, bogus journeys, and fucking rifters. I hope you enjoy.