That animating spirit in whose actions we can see the best of us and those things we share and that we refuse to accept dying with us.
I remember watching people tie themselves in knots complimenting Leandro’s sexy voice. Laughing as the thread rapidly lost all focus on the actual bug he was demonstrating.
I remember Energy Transfer’s nerf. Standing nearby willing to argue the point, watching tankers and brutes whine about it while stalkers shrugged and said ‘Fair enough.’
I remember finding a mission that was spawning nothing but bosses on a stalker, and resetting that mission over and over again for three whole levels. Street Justice was always Sweet Justice.
I remember my first 50 taking three years. Battlebriar, a Dominator, pre buff. Most of his 40s were earned face-first on the floor while Eisregen and Strawberry Poundcake bruted Rikti away.
I remember my second 50 taking three weeks. A spines/dark scrapper who spent the majority of his lifespan in hazard zones, eating candy and blowing up groups.
I remember Dark Astoria. The return of mot, the repealing of my beautiful fog, my quiet corner of the city taken from me.
I remember my Dark Astoria. Beautiful and gloomy, with the mists full of lurching human forms, forms that burned. Stormsnout, Rose Paladin, Hewa Zhima, Reforged, Conspyre, Bec Querel, Emblazoned, Maleif – so many characters lived there, fought there, became rich there.
I remember trying to best Nethergoat’s ZPM. I remember the time I had three knockback IOs in one dive, giggling at the profits.
I remember becoming impatient and paying ten million inf for a Simple Chemical. I remember getting a letter from a fellow marketeer when I did, telling me they were surprised I’d made a mistake like that.
I remember City Of Heroes.
I still go there, in my mind. The characters I made, the lessons I learned, the stories I was part of, are still part of me, and they do not die or fade as someone turns off a server. They are to be shared and to be lived, lessons and tales all. City helped me find elements of myself I didn’t realise I had, and gave me patience I didn’t realise I could muster. It helped me help my touto, it helped me rise above myself.
It’d have been ten years old this week.
1 Comment
I cant find the words, but I share the feelings.