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And Again...
May. 4th, 2010 12:07 am...to say this is getting to annoy me is something of a criminal understatement.
Alantha lasted less than thirty minutes.
Yes, that's right. Before half an hour after time in, I was being carried back to the group tent, dead as a doornail, shot in the back by a spirit bolt from a player who, even though we were in broad daylight, thought I was a monster. I was reached by a healer five seconds after my death count had expired.
Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.
It's rather a cruel irony that, despite being held in a modicum of respect for my ability to portray, after six years of fest LARP, I have been unable to bring myself to enjoy anything but one of the things I am evidently and patently crap at. I go to a big system, and despite all the other options available to me, all I want to do is disappear off in front of the player party and ninj. I don't feel happy or comfortable anywhere else, and yet it seems I'm entirely unable to successfully look after myself there.
This is whiny, I know. Feel free to stop reading. No-one's forcing you to.
This was my last shot at a daggerboy for several characters, or it would have become ridiculous, so I put just about the lot into him. This was the last of what I would have considered my good ideas, and there were hooks galore for people to pick up and poke if they wanted, and to their eternal, long-suffering credit, they were. I got more attention with Alantha than I have done with any other character for years. Possibly put together. Now I'm playing some paper-thin wastrel with nothing to him and no depth to make him interesting.
Sound familiar to anyone?
Yup - through no intention of mine, my new guy is Juilin Fortrayre with a black face and a few less "dear boy"s. Bereft of any more options for a genuine scout, I'm now reduced to playing characters that poke around at its fringes, trying to get in on any form of action I can. It feels so, so forced, but it's the best I'm going to get for the forseeable future.
I'm going to go to bed, and hope my outlook improves on an event that kept failing to deliver through a combination of circumstances that at no point were the fault of the event itself. In the meantime, because it's no longer of use to me and several people have requested it, below the cut is Alantha's backstory in brief - otherwise known as all I got to write of it before he died. It might explain a couple of his more out there random acts of normalcy amongst the general nastiness.
( Spoiler for a dead man. If you don't want to know, don't click. (Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and abuse) )
Alantha lasted less than thirty minutes.
Yes, that's right. Before half an hour after time in, I was being carried back to the group tent, dead as a doornail, shot in the back by a spirit bolt from a player who, even though we were in broad daylight, thought I was a monster. I was reached by a healer five seconds after my death count had expired.
Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.
It's rather a cruel irony that, despite being held in a modicum of respect for my ability to portray, after six years of fest LARP, I have been unable to bring myself to enjoy anything but one of the things I am evidently and patently crap at. I go to a big system, and despite all the other options available to me, all I want to do is disappear off in front of the player party and ninj. I don't feel happy or comfortable anywhere else, and yet it seems I'm entirely unable to successfully look after myself there.
This is whiny, I know. Feel free to stop reading. No-one's forcing you to.
This was my last shot at a daggerboy for several characters, or it would have become ridiculous, so I put just about the lot into him. This was the last of what I would have considered my good ideas, and there were hooks galore for people to pick up and poke if they wanted, and to their eternal, long-suffering credit, they were. I got more attention with Alantha than I have done with any other character for years. Possibly put together. Now I'm playing some paper-thin wastrel with nothing to him and no depth to make him interesting.
Sound familiar to anyone?
Yup - through no intention of mine, my new guy is Juilin Fortrayre with a black face and a few less "dear boy"s. Bereft of any more options for a genuine scout, I'm now reduced to playing characters that poke around at its fringes, trying to get in on any form of action I can. It feels so, so forced, but it's the best I'm going to get for the forseeable future.
I'm going to go to bed, and hope my outlook improves on an event that kept failing to deliver through a combination of circumstances that at no point were the fault of the event itself. In the meantime, because it's no longer of use to me and several people have requested it, below the cut is Alantha's backstory in brief - otherwise known as all I got to write of it before he died. It might explain a couple of his more out there random acts of normalcy amongst the general nastiness.
( Spoiler for a dead man. If you don't want to know, don't click. (Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and abuse) )
