the Brand-Boo Students diary of
Characters in a game that do not move are targets; characters in a game that move without a plan are targets. I hate being a target so I must move, yet move with a plan. The parental units are gearing for another archaelogical expedition where they will continue studying the original builders of the catacombs. Six months underground with no day-to-day internet access. I know they are going to ask me to accompany them.. Normally the prospect of deciphering ancient technology and the mysterious appearance and disappearance of an advanced civilization would be something only a noob would turn down. In all practicality, it would be like experiencing a live-action video game in real unlife. Except my honour is at stake and I must defend it, lest my peers take my absence as a sign that I am bowing to a monster with superior skills. I can tell they sense weakness in my game - never mind that there is none - but my goals of virtual world domination will be hindered if I am forced to waste time answering challengers at every step. Think and move, move and think...
I have informed the parentals that I will indeed opt out of accompanying them. As I have forseen, their suggestion is that I then join my older brothers at the grandparental's domicile. I have great fondness and affection for the GPs, but their internet is firmly ensconced in the 'Kingdom of Lag'. it is a dark and terrible place where even sending an email causes the data stream to slow to a trickle. My brothers see this as not a bug but a feature. I do not wish to spend my waking hours seeing who can be the first to the top of that mountain in the distance or who can hurl the largest rock into yon fjord. To avoid this I have applied for a monster exchange program that would send me across the seas to a place called Monster High. I am familiar with it through my interaction with several of my gaming cohorts who matriculate there. I also know it to be the educational residence of a certain monster to whom I owe my greatest and only defeat. We shall see what response the parentals have to my latest manuver.
I have again replayed my defeat at the hands of that unknown, yet I must grudgingly admit, skillful monster. In reviewing it for the 148th time, I believe I have found the cause of my downfall. It was the screechza residue that did in my character. At first I believed that the player's character was better equipped that my own. This in and of itself is not always an assurance of victory, as I have many times defeated a better equipped foe through cunning and superior claw-eye coordination. In closely examining the video of the battle and using screen captures, I compared each segment of the opponent's offensive and defensive gear with my own and found them equal. In tactics, the player was using a modified version of the Carpathian stance,while I countered with a looser - yet perfectly effective in this situation - full moon feint. We ingested the same number of health potions, used equal healing scrolls and even each retreated for a time to allow our hit points to naturally regenerate. In the final sequence, after we had exhausted every tool at our disposal,I have ascertained that it was screechza grease which turned the tide in my opponents favour. Yes, I know it is the chief excuse in the arsenal of the sore loser, but I can without a blush of embarrassment claim that my claw slipped. Though I am loath to admit it, even to myself, it is the truth. Does this provide any measure of comfort? Will I ever proclaim this publically? No and no. I should have done a more through job of maintaining the tools of my trade. i.e my claws, but I allowed the excitement of battling a worthy foe to adversely influence my preparation. It was a mistake worthy of the greenest of noobs. I will also bear the shame of my mistake internally, for to do so otherwise would take away the glory of victory from my opponent and make me look smaller in defeat. But when the rematch happens - and it will - I shall not go into it with the same lackadaisical attitude as before.
While I have been waiting for some type of confirmation as to my acceptance into the monster exchange program, I have been carrying on conversations with Heath Burns - or as he prefers to call himself, 'The Heathster' - regarding Monster High. I have a two-fold reason for this, the first being that I am genuinely interested in the school as it maintains a stellar reputation even among monsters a continent away. My parentals are familiar with with the headmistress as well, and hold her in very high esteem. he second reason being that Heath knows the gamer who defeated me, and though he is normally a veritable geyser of information about everything and nothing at all, in this matter he is unusually tight-lipped. I shall continue to probe his defenses for this information
The parentals have asked me to look over a photograph they just received. It is of a device that was recently unearthed in the portion of the catacombs where they will be conducting their research. I suppose it is because I have what some might term a 'gift' when it comes to deciphering mechanical objects that they show me these things. I think this 'gift', so to speak, first manifested itself when I was a ghoul of about three. My father had found a box on a dig and could not find a way to open it without doing grievous harm to the artifact. He left it on his desk well within my reach and I opened it. I cannot say exactly how I knew what to do, but something about the way it was constructed made sense to my brain, and after a few clicks the top slid open. I thought nothing of it and simply handed it to my father and wandered back out of the room. Anyway, the picture they showed me was clearly some type of communication device, but it looked to me like it was missing its power source. I pointed out the slot where a thought, should they find a suitable battery, it should be placed. I also warned the that it looked like it had some kind of built in defensive mechanism so they should be careful with it. I would like to think by this time they would cease to be surprised by this ability that I have, but they still tend to look at me in wonder. I sometimes wish I had this ability in my everyday deals with monsters, but they are often as mysterious to me as that box on my father's desk was to everyone else.
I felt as if I leveled up twice today. The first was due to my receiving the news that I have been accepted into the monster exchange program. I would like to believe that I knew it was a foregone conclusion, but that would not be an entirely truthful statement. I am, by my own admission, rather a misfit, but if there is one thing I have gleaned in all my conversations with Heath, it is that Monster High is a place where no matter what your peg configuration might be, you can still fit This makes me... happy. The second level I have attained came about as a result of Heath finally disclosing the real name of the gamer who defeated me. I should say that Heath would have probably told me sooner if he didn't think that Trollhammer530 was, in his words, 'a dude'. I never set out to hide the fact that I am a ghoul; in fact, I never gave it any thought at all. I do find it amusing that mansters just assume because I am a gamer - and a very good one - I could not possibly be a ghoul. I'v also never been fond of voice chat so I don't use it. Regardless, as it turns out, my nemesis happens to be a ghoul as well, and Heath didn't want to tell me because he thought I would be embarrassed that a ghoul beat me. The ghoul in question is a zombie, and her name is Ghoulia Yelps.