Another war rages on against the Intaki Prosperity Initiative.
And by “rages on”, what I actually mean is, “ILF got some in-game notifications about it but we’re ignoring them and going about our usual business”. Public-Enemy dec’d IPI for the second time in as many months just so they could shoot the customs offices ILF owned in the Placid hisec island. Power to them I guess, if hisec structure grinding floats their boat. If they (or their client, if there is one) wanted the offices that badly they could have just offered to buy them from us to save time and ammo. We weren’t making any ISK off them anyway. :p I shrug and hope they enjoyed shooting them.
I recognize that wars (“lol griefer” or otherwise) are part of PVP in EVE. I chose to give my time to this universe where people can destroy my stuff, even in hisec, whenever they feel like it. IPI by design is smack in the middle of one of the hottest PVP areas of Gallente space simply because of Intaki. That’s just how it is, and it isn’t going to change. After all, we wouldn’t be the Intaki Prosperity Initiative if we moved somewhere else. Everyone will always know where to find us. We will always be a target of one kind or another because of where we live and who we are.
Will we ever be an “elite” PVP alliance? Thousands of kills in a month? Wicked ISK efficiency? Probably not. Sure, I want to be a capable PVP pilot (yes, I know that means I actually have to undock!) and have people in my alliance who are capable at it too. I want my guys to have good fights and enjoy combat. But IPI being able to unzip some crazy PVP e-peen? That’s not why I play EVE.Read more...
In her youth, Sakaane aspired to be a singer and performer. Her primary and secondary education centered around musical studies and developing her talents both as a vocalist and with various instruments. In addition to songwriting, she specialized in violin and guitar with secondary focus on piano and oboe. In her late teens and early twenties her career looked promising; she developed a respectable following in the independent music scene on the Intaki homeworld.
When the Serpentis killed most of her immediate family, Sakaane gave up on music and became a capsuleer. For many years she was unable to tap into her talent, but events in YC114 contributed greatly to healing the spiritual wounds she’d suffered. She has since begun exploring her music again.
Years ago I played flute, oboe, and piano. Violin and guitar are instruments I always wanted to learn. But unlike other very talented EVE players such as Sindel Pellion (and despite the fact I do enjoy crooning to my steering wheel), actually trying to sing as Sakaane would require reliance on something like Auto-Tune and even then there would be risk of the software running away to hide, wimpering, in a dark corner of my computer where I’d never find it. (Maybe one day I’ll try it. Maybe. Don’t hold your breath!)
In any case, in lieu of any talent of my own, I’ve developed a playlist which contains music representing the kind of sounds, styles, lyrics, and genres Sakaane would be known for in and around Intaki over time. A selection of songs from this playlist are below.Read more...
I recently came across a blog post titled “Be the Hero; Not the Villain” by Mabrick. Before reading further, go read his article first.
Here’s a quote:
...people who just want to have fun, not at someone else’s expense, are leaving the ship like rats.
I want to have fun in EVE Online. I do want to be some flavor of hero in New Eden. I want my corporation and my alliance to be something that allows other people to have fun, too. But my definition of fun is not “being a pirate”. It’s definitely not “ruining other people’s gameplay because lulz” (and let me be clear that I acknowledge players can be the villain/pirate/bad guy without also being assholes. Unfortunately, more and more the two seem to go hand-in-hand anyway).Read more...
Thanks to Saxon Hawke for his written contributions.
The original posts are here.
The docking tug released her ship; the pod gantry extracted her capsule. Sakaane prepared for the usual amount of discomfort that accompanied disembarkation.
“Have you been expecting a delivery, or a message?” Bataav asked over their private channel.
The black pod suit peeled off and hit the floor of the washroom in the captain’s quarters with a wet plop. Slimy rivulets of containment fluid dribbled down her body into inconvenient crevices. She reached for the shower knob.
Bataav hesitated before answering. “A courier showed up shortly after you left. His credentials seem to check out.”
The bar of soap squirted out of her hands. She let it fall unheeded to the floor and tried to fight down a sudden irrational surge of anxiety. Darac Rin’s couriers had had verifiable credentials, too, else they would never have been allowed on the station, never mind granted access to the restricted capsuleer zones. That hadn’t stopped them from bringing her ill news.
Bataav heard her soft curse. “It won’t be about that. We took care of it.”
Yes, they had—and the anxiety was swept aside by grim satisfaction that twisted her lips into a cold smile. But then several gobs of shampoo suds slipped past her lips, killing the moment. She spat and turned her face up to the water to rinse her mouth.
Still, was it possible the courier was from the Serpentis? She mulled that over in her head for a few minutes before discarding the idea. It’d been months since the escapade in Vey, and even supposing the local cells were happy about that particular turn of events, they’d probably be unlikely to send a gift basket to an enemy as thanks. This courier must be from someone else. But why the trouble to come in person? Anyone she could think of who might need to reach her could do so easily enough through secured comms.
“What did he want?”
“He refuses to say.”
“Wait a minute. The courier is waiting?”
“Apparently his instructions are to speak only to you.”
She caught the note of disapproval in Bataav’s voice and decided it would be best not to delay further. A few minutes later, a damp towel joined the wet pod suit on the floor.
Bataav was sitting across from their unexpected guest, a carefully neutral expression on his face and a drink seemingly clasped casually in his hands, when Sakaane entered their quarters. She had tossed on her usual fatigues but left her hair down. The redline tube had transported her across the station in a matter of minutes; her honey-blonde locks hung in still-damp waves over her shoulders.Read more...