(OOC) An Ode to 50 Million Skillpoints.

My computer roars to life as I place my lucky dogtags around my neck. I wear them anytime I am looking to shoot things. I launch the game. EvE. The music and Sansha structure loom as it requests my login information. Taunting me. I splash my data upon it confidently. It gives way.

As always, the first thing I do is double-check my skill queue. Long over are the days of waking at all manner of hour to set new skills to train, or worse, leave EvE widows sleep-deprived and fury-filled in my wake.

A glance. Barely a thought of a clone perhaps in need of an upgrade. Its genetically brain filled to the brim with tactics and data. One thinks limiting clone brainpans could be the biggest cashgrab this side of New Eden, but little can be done now.


In reality, an insignificant milestone. Humans love round numbers. Symetrical in a universe where the poetry lies in the order within the chaos. Arbitrary.

I allow myself a selfish moment to enjoy it. It seeps in, slowly at first. The days. The nights. The weeks. The weekends. The months. The years. The study. The skillplans.

And lo, did the internets quake in ph34rz! Ships did explode of their own accord! Exotics dancers and womens pilots cried out in inexplicable bliss! CCP did sendeth me a basket busting with fine wines and decadant chocolates!

And I, I did but cry out in terrible joy and machivellian glee. The younger brother, he himself a capsuleer and spiller of slaver blood, did join me in celebration, story, song and sweet teas that had thus been iced. Oh, the snackage that we wrought upon my modest dwellings as we told story and sang songs of fallen friend and foe and node!

My brothers and sisters in glorious battle did join me in my exhaltation as the news rang out over chat, board and twitter. Many were joyous at a brother-in-arms now truly a force to be reckoned with, while a scant few did proclaim their thoughts of fleeing should I ever find them in a dark corner of nullsec.

And as my dear brother did depart my nook, I once again took stock of my capsuleer existance. My skillpoints. My skills. My skillplans. My standings. My ships. My mods. My fittings. My isk. My planets. My corperation. My alliance. My friends. My enemies. My past, full of toil. My present, full of hope. My future, full of fun, tournaments and fanfests.

I have gazed into the abyss and had it gaze back at me. I believe we have an understanding.

~ by psychediver on 01/06/2011.

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