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It’s not seldom I revisit my MMORPG stomping grounds; I probably got further in Guild Wars, alts, legendaries, and more recently but everything came without nearly as much hardship in comparison that I remember it less.
I was late logging in, but the program was smart enough to put me with my teammates when my avatar stepped through the portal and just like that, we were in the thick of battle with the enemy! It seemed premature, but I let loose a special ability that sent out a barrage of ghost-like fireballs in a cone-shaped pattern (surely taken from one game or another over the many years) and luckily I was lined up correctly with my target for it to be effective. Immediately following our victory, I had the chance to pose my character on-screen, selecting a flying jump-kick to capture for later use. There was no voice chat during the event, but I found myself on the phone with a fellow player whom I called “Winnie”, from her pleasant demeanor an amalgam of Wing and even older client with that name, a nice lady whose boss, I won’t ever forget, suddenly passed from cancer after complaining of stomach pain; I felt lucky to be talking to her, as she occupied an administrative position in our organization and even made up a meaningless “last question, I promise” about changing my icon on the website to stay on the call, but when I thought we were done, she brought up a news story I had previously shared about a local man who, quite seriously I reminded her, killed his wife.

One of the many dreams I had early this morning was about handling firearms, which if I’m to believe popular media my lack of experience in will surely put me and my loved ones at a disadvantage come the apocalypse, but something in the back of my mind, maybe it was the one time a friend invited me to the range, told me that I could tell whether the safety was on or not by the position of the lever: vertical it was engaged, horizontal meant it could fire. (Later search reveals that this is not the case at all and was not worth waking to check.)

In another, I was at the office I recently noticed had a new occupant and my notepad, the kind I used often with the perforated pages bound at the top that never came off cleanly, was somehow confiscated by IT, led by Leon but in another of my memory lapses, I referred to him as Andrew. They scanned a copy of it before returning it and I protested, knowing that my personal information might be at risk, despite my tendency to write down passwords by themselves all over the place without any meaningful reference or sense of order. I cornered one of them, a fellow from Hong Kong with garish art on his shirt and threatened him.

The third one I remember was about an MMO game which I had long since retired from playing but watched as another crew failed to take down a giant boss dragon. One of the characters was a crow-like bird who ordinarily wasn’t capable of flight, but used an ability called “Backpack” and escaped the wipe by retreating to a roof. Even then, the enemy was smart enough to return with a large piece of furniture to climb up and reach them. I was highly critical of their attempt, regaling them of our successful strategies with a lower level cap and weaker gear. This afternoon we’d drive out to Lit Café, you’ll remember, and while waiting for our last meal there accepted a blind invite to a Primal Groudon raid, which also didn’t go nearly as well our very first. It helps that we don’t care anymore.

…for good, really, our latest road trip there lets me cross it off places I’m likely ever to return to, which is kind of a good feeling, despite the reason of course being that little time’s left for it to change, similar to how I have fewer things left to eat. Speaking of which, a single Nathan’s Famous chili dog at one of the New York, New York exits (next to a woman manning an oxygen station who told her fellow booth operator that Christmas Day was the worst she’d had yet) now costs nearly ten dollars with tax and no longer even offers the snapping skin. Surprisingly cheaper box of fish & chips at Gordon Ramsay’s place, though factor in the wait, the lack of seating, then the fight through the crowds to get it back to your room warm, and the none of this seems worth the trouble. Bring back the original Star Trek Experience and maybe? I kept thinking of the drive I made once to meet a friend I no longer have and missed an item on the auction house in a game I no longer play, might that have been the wrong life-altering decision? At least the weather cooperated at the Cajon Pass and I didn’t crash the car as I have been in the dreams leading up to and during the trip.

The server I’d left behind years ago and have only occasionally posted a .GIF to since was suddenly active with a smooth-voiced DJ welcoming visitors and even had someone streaming FFXI, though in painfully low resolution. One of my old online friends was happy to meet me in person and rested his weary head in my cradled arms, where he confessed he made up the story about losing his brother in Iraq with images from memes. Rajeev Gantela, looking very much like he did when I last saw him—interesting how memory is at once corrupted by time and unaffected by it—came out of the crowd and joined us on our bench to consult my legal opinion of an idea he came up with as a mathematician: he proposed that stores give discounts based upon their customer’s travel distance, so the further away they live, the less they have to pay, as reward and incentive to make the trip. The algorithm would have to take into account multiple locations (not to mention the privacy concerns), I thought, but I told him it could be patented.

One thing I look back at FFXI and can forgive the requisite time sink for was the joy relief when a placeholder would finally give way to the Notorious Monster (my best memories are camping them on the clock, even when the rare visitor to my cubicle would send my USB-adaptered PS2 controller fumbling; the worst, of course, dealing with in-game competition), and I think I relived some of the feeling with shiny hunting in Let’s Go, Eevee! Only though because they’d spawn on-screen and not the traditional reveal after the encounter, which come on, is a Japanese gameplay relic that resists obsolescence like fax machines and ちかん.

You can’t tell from the clip, but I had only a few more seconds until dawn when these night-time spawns would vanish, so saving sightings like this is a godsend. The open world mechanic does require more travel, and tasks to complete the ‘Dex (so much for PoGo transfers) for the charm is a daunting proposition for all but the most dedicated players; haven’t thon’d like this for a while, have I?

Just when I’d had enough of the game, blew my hoarded gold and mats on not one but two legendaries, does RNG finally yield a “toilet” reward:

Guild Wars 2 has lasted longer than I’d expected it to, without the least bit of the Ventrilo/TeamSpeak camaraderie from DCUO (which went through two “leagues” over little more than a year and a half), but as appealing the environment is for players without in-game ambition for the carrot chase—the longevity reflected outside it as well—I can’t see this matching my time in FFXI.

This weekend is the second of their open betas, and I’ll give it a go again, this time with Xpadder because there’s no way I’d continue with one hand over the 1-7 ability keys on top of the other moving WASD-style. Either way, I doubt it’ll be an easy transition from the responsiveness and fluidity of animation I’ve come to take for granted—despite the utter lack of anything to do with them.

Not the first of the year, because last night was like most these days, USA-network marathons in my mind, but this one I recall: I was playing an FFXI-ish videogame, and like one of those challenges where you have to wait for the proper alignment of mobs before moving (like the low-level run through Delkfutt’s Tower for that first Moogle expansion pack), four Shogun Warriors surrounded me in a small room. My impatience got the better of me, and I made a break for it, with at least two of them in pursuit. There was the usual incongruity between my fleeing avatar and myself, and the latter just stepped out of the simulated world through a service exit. I was, however, still in a foreign environment, and seeing movement at the end of a hall, thought to stay as out of sight as possible. Hugging the back wall led to a restroom, where I hoped to find a spare guard’s uniform. None of the khaki-green outfits were my size, and a cleaning lady asked me where I had come from; I tried to get away with an exotic change of subject by asking her if she was familiar with Japan. Never do that, I would learn, unless you’re sure of where you are, because, as it turns out, we were there: I proceeded outside and a large window revealed a snow-covered mountain and a marvelous high-tech bridge leading to it. The woman reported me to the staff, and soon I was being led away through these offices of the game developer. An old friend from Santa Clara spotted me in the lobby and approached.