Avalonia - The Broken Promise
The Sham reached its apex with the creation of Avalonia. I don't even play Avalonia anymore because the last time I took her out for a spin she was so out of control that she needed to be dropped off a cliff into a bog of eternal forgetfulness.
The name was given to me, created for me. The features specified. The class, race, alignment. Frankenstein's monster but perfection, not a conglomeration of misaligned pieces and parts. Frankenstein's mistress.
"The Love Doctor...."
I didn't want an online marriage. I wanted a friend. A very intimate friend. Closer than a husband because there would be no financial/material/social responsibilities to drag down the energy levels. It would be an unconditional exchange of voltage. What a dream.
I was told that this character name would become a wife. Shaman knew that I hated to sit in the tavern, I loved questing. The first thing he did to take myself away from myself and put himself into the position of controller was to refuse to acknowledge me if I weren't waiting in the tavern for just whenever he might appear. If I wasn't there I would be told later that I must not have wanted to be with him, when indeed I did. So I learned to sit for an eternity, waiting. With that behavior in place my ability to gain levels was severely compromised, and my love of questing was eventually eroded. It become associated with the negative aspect of missing the company of one whom I adored. Psychology at work, folks. Take note.
I would become a wife when Avalonia was maxed out at level 73. Most difficult to achieve, the manipulator must have thought, with newly acquired aversion to questing.That night after he left me, I didn't sleep. I went to the Dwarf Kingdom and fought the Giant battle all night long, into the morning. Hour after hour. Control, Control, Poison, Hack. Again. Teleport out to buy more mana potions. Control, Control, Poison, Hack. While I listened to Van Morrison - "Have I Told You Lately That I Loved You." His choice of music for me.
I was level 73 by noon.
The reaction I received later that night was one of.....extreme surprise. Apparently this man who I'd chosen to be my most intimate friend was unaware of my capacity for relentless striving to achieve a goal. It quickly became apparent that the "marriage" wasn't going to take place. That part didn't matter. The broken promise did. It hurt. It forced me to acknowledge that perhaps my soul wasn't safe with this Sham of a man.
Refer to the "Ascension of Ensaneti" for a review of the end of this love story.
Avalonia never did become a bride. The last time I saw her she was wobbling around in a pair of thigh high purple leather boots and not much else, fighting off skeletons in a cemetary while shouting "Reverend, Reverend is this some conspiracy?" (see Pantera, Cemetary Gates).
The name was given to me, created for me. The features specified. The class, race, alignment. Frankenstein's monster but perfection, not a conglomeration of misaligned pieces and parts. Frankenstein's mistress.
"The Love Doctor...."
I didn't want an online marriage. I wanted a friend. A very intimate friend. Closer than a husband because there would be no financial/material/social responsibilities to drag down the energy levels. It would be an unconditional exchange of voltage. What a dream.
I was told that this character name would become a wife. Shaman knew that I hated to sit in the tavern, I loved questing. The first thing he did to take myself away from myself and put himself into the position of controller was to refuse to acknowledge me if I weren't waiting in the tavern for just whenever he might appear. If I wasn't there I would be told later that I must not have wanted to be with him, when indeed I did. So I learned to sit for an eternity, waiting. With that behavior in place my ability to gain levels was severely compromised, and my love of questing was eventually eroded. It become associated with the negative aspect of missing the company of one whom I adored. Psychology at work, folks. Take note.
I would become a wife when Avalonia was maxed out at level 73. Most difficult to achieve, the manipulator must have thought, with newly acquired aversion to questing.That night after he left me, I didn't sleep. I went to the Dwarf Kingdom and fought the Giant battle all night long, into the morning. Hour after hour. Control, Control, Poison, Hack. Again. Teleport out to buy more mana potions. Control, Control, Poison, Hack. While I listened to Van Morrison - "Have I Told You Lately That I Loved You." His choice of music for me.
I was level 73 by noon.
The reaction I received later that night was one of.....extreme surprise. Apparently this man who I'd chosen to be my most intimate friend was unaware of my capacity for relentless striving to achieve a goal. It quickly became apparent that the "marriage" wasn't going to take place. That part didn't matter. The broken promise did. It hurt. It forced me to acknowledge that perhaps my soul wasn't safe with this Sham of a man.
Refer to the "Ascension of Ensaneti" for a review of the end of this love story.
Avalonia never did become a bride. The last time I saw her she was wobbling around in a pair of thigh high purple leather boots and not much else, fighting off skeletons in a cemetary while shouting "Reverend, Reverend is this some conspiracy?" (see Pantera, Cemetary Gates).
posted by Nekyia (nom d'plume) at 10/10/2005 12:01:00 AM
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