Of Injustice and Death
I live with the two most insensitive people in the world.
Both are Irish – one from the North, the other from the South – creating a unified demographic of nationwide insensitivity. I don’t want to pass judgement on all of Ireland because of their behaviour, but scientifically-speaking, there’s definitely a pattern emerging.
Imagine, for a moment, you’re sneaking through an elven forest. In your clawed hands are two swords, each glimmering with an austere light, betraying the enchantments laced within the cold steel. You’re here hunting the elves. Your allies – the orcish clans – wish to use this woodland’s bounty for lumber.
Now imagine you face your enemy, blade to blade, eye to eye. The golden gleam in their eyes can’t hide the fear etched plain onto their androgynous features. You spare a brief glance – only the briefest glance! for battle is about to be joined! – at their health bar and the weapons in their hands. Your warbrain kicks in, where thoughts are elevated to thrice the speed with a true soldier’s insight: “Okay, that sword in their off-hand gives shitty DPS, and their health at that level means they’re pretty badly geared…”
Does this tactical analysis, performed in the time it takes a moth’s heart to beat once, ruin the fantasy world immersion? No. It just makes you feel a little like you’re wasting your life. But whatever.
You pounce. You pounce!
Blades fall, and you ready yourself for the ferocious exultation that comes from the eternal dance of hunter and hunted, of predator and prey. Soon you will bathe in fresh experience points. Soon you will press your clammy balls onto the face of thine foe’s corpse, teabagging them for daring to set foot into the forests your people will take at the points of a thousand swords.
What’s this? Your enemy has vanished? No, wait, they’ve teleported over th– Shit, why I am I at half health? Oh, fuck, why didn’t I get a cast bar when they used that spell on me? I’d have totally interrupted it if I’d kno– Did they just teleport again? Die! Ha! Ye– No, wait, why aren’t they taking damage from th– Fuck, I’m dead.
You stare at your own corpse for several moments. The injustice of the situation comes home in grotesque clarity as the elven foe – who goes by the name of Testicron, Night Elf Hunter – dangles his fleshy jewels into your eye sockets. He gives the ancient Alliance battlecry. “Bur,” he says to your ethereal presence, as you look on in horror. Bur. The war-shout of so many Alliance warriors. You know what it means, of course. Translated, it means “lol”.
He’s laughing at you. He’s laughing at your ghost while he thumps his elven spuds onto the face of your dead body.
This is not how it’s supposed to be. This aggression will not stand.
We’ve all had those nightmares where we run in slow motion, or fight with no strength, and the monsters chasing us inevitably catch up, assured in the knowledge that since we’re moving like we’re trapped in treacle, they can eat and digest us at their beastly leisure.
That’s what it’s like, playing WarCraft with my selfish, selfish housemates.
At any moment, my dexterous blade-based killingsmanship can be halted without warning, as Steve watches a video about potatoes, or Katie scrolls through 600 Deviant Art pages and sighs wistfully at all the handsome male elves who – and I’m being fair here – are of dubious sexuality at best.
With three people in one house, the internet creeps like a legless bastard if someone is doing something dense with the connection. While we can all play WoW at the same time with no fear, doing something like looking through a kerjillion high-res pictures of hot male elves or watching every trailer for every video game ever to be released ever, ever, ever means that the people not doing those things inevitably suffer with skull-fucking lag.
The people not doing those things are me. When they’re in WoW, I don’t do things to slow them down. This is a courtesy that goes unreturned.
I slow down. My commands take several seconds to reach the screen. Dwarves and gnomes stab me in the face, and I’m too lagged to do anything about it except weep bitter tears in a grave that shouldn’t be my own.
That’s why I live with the two most selfish people in the world.
And that’s why I’m going to straight-up kill them in their sleep tonight.