My Armageddon character died last night. It was sad. I'd put in over 100 hours into that character and he (or I) had experienced a lot of rich scenes, but they were all cut short by a couple of twinkish elven assassins. Here's what happened:
Winding Alleyway [NE]
Worn and cracked walls of red-clay brick and old stone flank the sides
of this narrow and twisting alleyway. Trash, excrement and old gnawed bones
lie in scattered heaps on the hard-packed earthen ground giving off foul,
sickly odours that thicken the air with the telltale reek of disease. The
entire length of the alley lies in shadow, the sky being but a narrow crack
overhead between the shattered tops of leaning ramshackle buildings. The
air hangs thick and deathly still, as if even Whira found it too repellent a
place to move about in.
This dank alleyway snakes off to the north and east.
The tall figure in a dark, hooded cloak is standing here.
The very short figure in a dark, hooded cloak is standing here.
<96|113|66|sneakinghide
You search for a good place to hide.
<96|113|66|sneakingYou groan loudly as someone sticks a fang between your ribs!
Your concentration is broken!
Someone slams a halfsword into your back - hitting your heart!
Your vision goes black.
_______ ___
/\\_____//~-_ _-~\\__
(~) ~-_ ~-_ _-~ _-~
(~) ~-_ ~-_ _-~ /-~
Welcome to Armageddon! (~) `~-_ ~_======_--~~ __~
I hadn't even realized that they were following me when - BEEP, it was over. The character's life was cut short. He had things going on which will never be finished. Some other characters will probably never figure out what happened to him. It always bugs me when shit like that happens, but it also makes me realize how transitory our life and our experiences are. They're so fleeting. Opportunities pass by so quickly. Life goes so fast. It's just annoying. It makes life bittersweet. That's why I have to live forever. ;)
What else is happening? I finished Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. It was a crazy book, and somewhat related to what I wrote - the bittersweetness of life, the craziness of it all, and the difficulty one has in accepting it.
I'm sorta facing a crossroads right now where I have to make the decision: have good times now, or get serious now and and have good times later. Maybe it's not so clear-cut, but I really have been fuckin' around for a long, long time, and even though I realize it, on some level I don't want to stop it. It's damn fun to have fun. I won't be this age ever again.
Then again, maybe I could get serious: do more studying, do more working, and do more meaningful things in life while still having fun. But something has to go, and Armageddon is just as fun as most of the other stuff I do to me. Who knows.
