I wonder if they'll ever understand
The trials of a freedom seeking man
So have a round on me my friend
What else can we do
You know I always love ya
But I think it's time that we flew
Lindsey Buckingham - Dancing Across the USA
From CrazyKinux's blog:
Welcome to the first installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed here. Check out other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!
This month's topic comes to us from PsycheDiver: Ambulation: What are your hopes for your avatar and new functionality of stations?
The whole world went black.
Hallan Turrek felt the warm liquid draining around him. The neural shunt released and he let his head lean forward. He reached behind his head and rubbed the hole.
"Never gonna get used to that," he muttered to himself.
The capsule's top opened and he reached for the ladder in front of him. The station control had warned him the hangar he was docked in would have no gravity, due to a malfunction on that deck.
"That's alright," he'd said.
He propelled himself lightly towards the hole above him and grabbed the edge of his pod as he exited. His body jerked a moment, and his iron grip pulled him down along the side of the pod. He pushed away and floated against the wall. He grabbed a length of railing that ran along the entire wall. Using the railing, he worked his way through the ship to his shower.
The fine mist of water impacted on his skin and bounced off for a moment before it was sucked through the walls. The slime was always annoying to clean. It found it's way into your ears, nose, under your fingernails, and any place that would hold it. After what seemed like an hour, he went into the next room and changed into his station clothes. Like any pod-pilot who wanted to go unnoticed, he wore a hat, a wide brimmed "cowboy hat". His blue-jeans were well worn, and he donned a simple t-shirt emblazoned with the Quafe logo. He put a leather jacket on, one made from the hide of a particularly annoying Bruzen he'd met planet side in Nourvukaiken.
The Bruzen are stand about as tall as a human on four legs, and are primarily meat eaters. Before humans came to Nourvukaiken, they were the dominant species, and they've longed for that place again for a thousand years. He'd met one in a camping trip on leave from the navy. The thing decided he belonged in it's food chain, and tracked him for a few days before Hallan had to put a bullet in it. The meat was tender.
He picked up his holster and pistol and ran his hand down the smooth leather. He pulled the gun out and pointed it at the wall. He pulled the trigger, and the hammer refused to fall. Despite it's appearance as a standard six-shooter, it was a high tech piece of equipment, and it wouldn't work on a station. He put the belt on and put his gun back in it's holster. He turned to the door and made his way to the cargo ramp.
He laughed out loud as the workers fumbled around outside. He smiled as his shoes gripped the floor. He'd spent enough time in partially built stations to know, always have a pair of MagnaBoots™ on hand.
He knew where he was headed before he exited the ship. A Jovian he knew owned a little bar here, and he needed to be there. The Jovian's trade in information, and that was something he sorely needed right now. The drinks were good though, and the atmosphere was unbelievable. The Jovian's apparently had access to long forgotten music from the past, because Hallan could never place the songs, and the proprietor wouldn't say where they were from. It was among the finest pilot's lounges he'd visited.
He walked into the promenade with a bit of relief. A lot of pod pilots can be recognized on sight, Roc Wieler, Mynxee, Ka Jolo, Kane Rizzel, he pitied them sometimes. Sure, billions knew who Hallan was, but trillions knew who those pilots were, and it sometimes made it hard to walk around freely. Hallan was relatively fresh to the scene, and unknown in this neck of the woods, so he was enjoying his anonymity for now.
He walked past the flashing lights and the doorman of the "By Jove" without even looking at them. At least one person knew who he was, which wasn't a bad thing sometimes. The Jovian at the bar smiled in his direction and Hallan walked to the bar.
"My friend!" The bartender said over the music.
"Who sings this?" Hallan said, pointing upwards for no reason other than that it seemed like the thing to do.
"Procul Harum," The bartender answered, still smiling.
"Never heard of 'em," Hallan said with a chuckle.
"I know," The bartender said, matter of factly, "Are you here for business?"
"Yes I am,"
"What do you need?"
"The Caldari Navy's got a job for me, and while I'm loath to run it, they've told me if I do it, I'm off the hook with them, forever,"
"You know, my assistance comes with a cost," The bartender said, his grin widening.
"Of course, and they gave me this for you," Hallan passed him a datachip. The bartender slid it into the compstation he'd installed next to his register. It looked like it'd seen more use.
The bartender looked over the screen and stated quickly, "This will do," he typed something up on the station and switched the datachip for another. After a few short minutes he handed it back to Hallan, "A gift, from me,".
"So, about that information," Hallan began, taking the datachip from the bartender.
"Oh, the Gallente lady you're looking for is in that booth over there," He interrupted, while pointing, "She's waiting for her blind date with a Caldari Achura that roughly matches your description." The bartender, his grin fading, turned around and began pouring a couple of bottles into a glass.
"How'd you know that's what I was coming in here for?" Hallan asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"I'm Jovian, it's my job to know," He held two drinks as he turned around and spoke, "This one is for her," he said handing one to Hallan, "And this one is for you," he said, handing the other to Hallan as well.
"Thanks," Hallan said, as he made his way over to the booth.
The Gallente was extremely attractive by any measure, but her face was pale. It betrayed a lifetime spent on stations. Hallan sat down and handed her a drink. She smiled and put her hand out. Hallan shook it and smiled back.
"So, I heard you work for Combined Harvest," He said, sipping his drink.
Hallan's eyes were open in the darkness. She'd fallen asleep an hour ago, but he hadn't wanted to risk waking her. He slowly removed himself from her embrace and slid to the floor. His clothes took a bit more time to put on than they took getting off, but he managed it fairly quickly. He walked over to her personal compstation and inserted a special datachip. The encryptions took several minutes to break, but eventually he was in. He downloaded all of the available information back onto the chip and put it into his pocket. The Caldari software, if he was correctly informed, had just erased any indication of the data breach. Unless someone went digging for it at this compstation, no one would know. He looked down and then up at the door. He walked over to the door and opened, it, and as the light shined through from the outside onto her nude form, he panicked.
He shut the door immediately and creeped back over to the bed. He reached out and grabbed his hat off her head as she smiled in her sleep. A minute later he was gone.
And so it was later,
As the miller told his tale,
That her face at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
Procul Harum - A Whiter Shade of Pale
Until I started on this blog post I had no idea what the hell Ambulation was. I'd seen one video a month ago. It took a bit of digging to find out what it was about. Apparently we're gonna get to amble about. I enjoy roleplay, and anything to help my writing about this universe is going to be welcome. What would I like to see? I want boarding parties, I want person to person station combat, I want games to play, I want real interaction with agents, I want full immersion in a universe that is already a lot of fun to be in.
That is what it does come down to, it's already a lot of fun, so I hope whatever they do doesn't hurt that. It seems they have it in mind already not to force this change on anyone who doesn't want it. That is good to hear, but I definitely do want it. I want to see my character outfitted how I like, and bit more freedom with his portrait. I want, when I have time, the ability to walk into the repair bay, to haggle a price for the hull repairs on my rifter. I want to see the repairman's surprised face when I haul that baby in full of holes. I want to go to the pilot's lounge and play a game with some other pilots. I want to beat someone within an inch of his life, only to have him medivac'd at the last second and healed to full health.
I'm gonna have fun no matter what.
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- The Wandering Druid of Tranquility: Ambulation - what I hope to see
- Semper EVE: Ambulation and Me
- Roc's Ramblings: Blog Banter #1 - Ambulation
- The Ralpha Dogs: Ambulation/Walking in Stations: A "Second Life" for EVE?
- Drunk in Space: Look at how much weight he put on…
- Diving into PsycheDiver's Psyche: Ambulation and Her
- Inner Sanctum of the Ninveah: Eve Blog Banter - Ambulation
- I am Keith Neilson: Going For A Stroll Through EVE
- Life in Low Sec: Ambulation Fantasies
- Shahirs Journey: Hopes for Ambulation
- A Mule in EVE: Ambulation
- Protosolus: EVE: Gawking in Stations
- One Man, One Ship: Ambulation
- Achernar: Avatars in a spaceships game
- The Shard: Ambulation
- Mad Rant: Saturday Night Fever
- I May Find Peace Within The Emptiness…: Walking Around…
- Ombeve: Ambulation