Finally!

To quote my most favoritest rogue ever:

Fucking finally.

The hamster has Tuesdays off, you see.

Festergut despawned, Rotface was nowhere to be seen, the Blood Princes refused to come out and play (<insert "It was a sunny day in Forks..." joke here>) and even Alextrasza's children weren't behaving.

I don't know why we even bother to raid on patch days.

What would you do?

So, there's this warlock on my server who is fairly well known and widely disliked.  Even people who don't know who he is know who he is; his notoriety preceeds him.

Case in point: one of our rogues run a 25-man VoA PuG with him a month or two ago and reported that several people — including the Master Looter — had him on /ignore and missed his rolls for loot.  An argument actually broke out between those players who weren't ignoring him and could therefore see that he had won a roll, and those who were and couldn't. 

When he first applied to Surreality, my first impulse was to decline him based on reputation alone... but then I actually read his application and was kind of impressed.    It was thorough.  It was personal.  It was written by someone who obviously cared about his character and, more than that, respected the guild he was applying to enough to put some effort into it. 

I was torn.  On one hand, I had no personal experience with him and nothing more than his infamy, balanced against his guild application, upon which to make a decision.  On the other hand, several of my guild members — including at least two other officers — had very strong feelings about him:

"He's annoying."

"He's immature."

"I hate him."

These were all things I heard in guild chat after he applied, so — pangs of conscience notwithstanding — I declined him.   If his application alone could cause so much contention, then what would inviting him as an initiate accomplish?  I value Surreality's community above even our raid progression, and I'm not going to ask my friends and guildmembers to play with someone who makes them so obviously uncomfortable.

And yet ...

And yet no one can tell me, specifically, why they dislike him, or what he's done to earn their particular ire!  Even more puzzling to me is the fact that he has friends in the guild who are willing to vouch for him and who have been quietly (and not so quietly) urging me to reconsider my decision.

Last night — three or so weeks after I declined his initial application — he sent me a tell.  Apparently, he has the idea (/tar Liseria  /stare) that I was "only reason" he was turned down.  "I don't know you," he pointed out.  "So I really don't understand why you dislike me.  What have I ever done to offend you?"

It was a fair question, and it deserved a fair answer.  However, I was tanking ICC 10 at the time and was uncharacteristically brief:  "I don't dislike you,"  I assured him.  "I don't know who you've been talking to, but you've been misinformed.  Can we talk about this after my raid?"

I think he meant to let it go, but was upset and defensive.  He kept sending me tells; I kept attempting to deflect and diffuse them, and eventually had to stop responding.

 When he told me I obviously thought he was scum, I stopped reading altogether.

... Scum?  No.  Crazy?  Well, kind of.  Now. 

I caught up with him after the raid.  He apologized for his "agitation" and reitierated his concern that he is being unfairly judged.  "I'm not that guy," he assured me.  "People who know me will tell you that."  (And it's true; they did.)  "People who don't like me don't know me."  (Which also seems to be true, since I have yet to pin down any specific reasons that people dislike him, beyond — of course — his tendency to emo out in tells while I'm attempting not to wipe my raid.)

"He gets angry in Trade when people pick on him," a more moderate guildie observed privately.  She was firmly in the hate-him camp until she ran a heroic with him and decided he was "actually kind of sweet."  "He reacts so they provoke him, and it becomes a vicious cycle."

"It could just be a bandwagon thing," Keaton suggested.  "We could give him the same chance we give every other initiate, and kick him if he doesn't work out.  Trust your instinct."

Other opinions were wide and varied:

"I hate him.  I can't stand to spend three minutes in a PuG with him and you want to invite him to our guild?" 

"Our reputation is everything.  I don't trust him with it.  It isn't worth the risk."

"If you invite him, I'll kick him myself."

"Invite him.  We need a warlock."

"He wouldn't be the first person we took a chance on.  ... Just look at Malamo.  We hated him in the beginning, too."  

"He was a douche back in TBC but I think he's matured since then.   He's been laying low.  I'd give him a shot." 

...

I really don't know what to do.  It's probably better if I don't invite him, for the reasons I didn't.  But at the end of the day, I'm not sure I can conscience judging someone based entirely on hearsay, either.

This is not a UI post.

A certain shaman-turned-hunter of my acquaintance recently posted in defense of about his eye-bleedingly horrible UI.  I'd love to respond by sharing my custom UI, but can't...  because the aforemention shaman-turned-hunter might realize I wasn't lying when I said I didn't display pet frames on Grid.

Take that, Charles!

To Do List

• Kill Algalon (10).  We are so close to this one!  If I were able to bully people back into Ulduar more than once every other month or so (which inevitably forces us to spend the first 20 minutes of our hour relearning the fight >.<), we'd have Called enough Stars by now to start our own pocket universe. 
• Kill Anub'arak in Trial of the Grand Crusader (25).  If I have to extend this week's ID indefinitely (or until our 50 attempts are exhausted), then I will.  We didn't let Lady Vashj or Kael'thas Sunstrider get the better of us in TBC, and we certainly won't let Anub'arak do it now.
• Make a decision about Shadowmourne.  /waffle
• Get Stumpy his Rusted Proto-drake.  He's been One Light short of 310% birdspeed for so long that I'm ashamed of myself. 
• l2holy.  ... okay, so Larissyn wasn't my first or even second choice for an arena character.  But after watching Rosaly's PvP video — or, rather, listening to Rosaly's PvP video — I have to admit, I'm kind of excited.  (Whatever you do, don't tell Keaton.)
• Buy a sexy new dress for Saturday's holiday party.  See also: manicure, pedicure and practice run with the curling iron and/or straightener. 
• Delete Paladin Schmaladin from my feedreader.  Lying liar is STILL LYING — and the paladin community is somehow okay with it!  If this isn't proof enough that you full-time pallies are SEVERELY JUDGMENT IMPAIRED, then I don't know what is.  Ugh. 
• Christmas shopping!  Think Geek and NorthernSun, how I love three.
• Gem shopping!  Now that I can finally retire my two-piece T8, I should probably dust off those T9 robes and shoulders I've been holding on to and see if I can't dress them up with some sparkly accessories.
• Finish leveling Elleiras's alchemy so I can make my own flasks.
• Clean my house.  No, really.  I mean it this time.  I HAVE to clean because I'm going out of town for Christmas and New Year's and my house isn't fit to be seen. 
• Renew my passport.  Or at least get the pictures taken when I'm out and about so I can submit the paperwork.  No passport + Canadian fiance = sad warlock. 
• Write a real post.  None of this silly filler fluff that no one cares about (not even me).
• Do Heroic Pit of Saron and Halls of Reflection.  For real this time.

I Heart LFG.

Even if you don't need to use the new LFG interface to actually, you know, look for a group ... you can still queue your existing and fully formed 5-man for a specific instance or heroic and get a free port straight to the entrance!  For someone who (still) gets lost as often as I do, this is amazing.

And yes, I did finally manage to finish Halls of Reflection, with Annah and Keaton oh-so helpfully reminding me every time there was a quest pick-up or turn-in.  <3 you guys.

The Best Paladin on the Server

On Saturday evening, I had the rare honor of joining a ToC 10 PuG tanked by the Best Paladin on the Server.  He magnanimously agreed to save our run after the death knights who had initially signed on to tank dropped out after several admittedly embarrassing wipes on Northrend Beasts (that I'm 99.9% certain that they caused out of sheer ineptitude).

… oh, and Elam came too.  On his death knight tank, Grazeless, who — provincial bovine charm notwithstanding — was clearly outclassed by the Best Paladin on the Server. 

So, after posing outside the instance portal in his spit-polished ilevel 258 gear (and taking a few screen shots with envious lookers-on), the Best Paladin on the Server took one look at our ragtag crew — and laughed.  “I hope you have a DPS set, Grazeless,” he chortled.  “I can solo-tank this shit.”

(Note to self: Introduce the Best Paladin on the Server to Snottydin.  I think they’ll hit it off well.)

Grazeless hesitated, too awed by the opportunity to converse directly with the Best Paladin on the Server to formulate a timely response.  “I don’t have a DPS spec,” he stammered at length.  “But I do have a hunter spec.”

“Ah well.”  The Best Paladin on the Server shrugged his plate-encased shoulders, pausing ever so briefly to admire his reflection in the gleaming metal.  “Nevermind.  I’ll tank the first boss and teach you how to tank the rest of them.  It’s so easy, even you could do it.” 

Eager to be see the Best Paladin on the Server in action, our fearless leader hurried us all back into the Crusader’s Coliseum — much to the dismay of the gaggle of Blood Elf fangirls who had scattered throughout the Tournament Grounds, sighing and swooning and flinging their Battle-forged panties in the Best Paladin on the Server’s general direction.

Once we had zoned in, the Best Paladin on the Server favored the much less experienced Grazeless with a precious moment of his time and vastly superior wisdom.  “I suppose I’ll let you help with this after all.  Taunt after four stacks of Impale and pick up Acidmaw when he spawns.  He’s the one on the left.” 

Sensing that Grazeless was confused by this rather complicated instruction, the Best Paladin on the Server made an “L” with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and winked.   “The left is this one — see?”

Grazeless gulped, clutched his two-handed axe like a security blanket, and eventually nodded his understanding. 

The Best Paladin on the Server smiled beatifically, executed a perfect hair flip, and sauntered over to take his rightful place at the head of the raid. 

And … nothing happened.  We stood around staring at each other, mouths slightly agape as we shook our heads in bewilderment.  What was Tirion Fordring waiting for? 

“Ugh, just get on with it.”  The Best Paladin on the Server glared up at the stands.  “I’ll autograph your helm after I solo-tank this shit.”  Tirion Fordring blushed and forced himself to stop admiring the vision of paladiness before him long enough to send in Gormok the Impaler.

And because he is, after all, an Elam Alt®: Grazeless died.

The Best Paladin on the Server shrieked like a harried banshee.  “YO, HUNTER!” he howled over Varian Wrynn’s ever-obnoxious gloating.  (Somewhere in Storm Peaks, an avalanche started.)  “YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO TANK ACIDMAW.  I CAN’T SOLO-TANK THIS SHIT ‘CUZ I HAVE TO KITE DREADSCALE THROUGH THE RANGED DPS WHILE OUTRANGING MY TOXIN’D HEALER AND ABSOLUTELY NOT BREAKING HER OUT OF PARALYSIS ‘CUZ THAT’S THE TOTALLY PRO WAY TO DO TOC.”

Not surprisingly, the hunter whimpered and feigned death.

Gormok: 1.

Hapless PuG: 0

As we made the dash of shame back into the instance, Grazeless summoned his courage like a ghoul and pulled the Best Paladin on the Server aside.  “Maybe you should tank Acidmaw,” he suggested.  “Your TPS is so much better than mine.  And I want to practice that whole kiting-through-the-DPS and outranging-my-healer and not-freeing-people-from-poison thing you have going on, because it’s really sexy and I hear Best Death Knight on the Server is still up for grabs.  So, can you help a Deathcow out?”

“I suppppppose,” the Best Paladin on the Server drawled, using a corner of Grazeless’s cloak to wipe the worm spit off of his breastplate.  “Just remember, no matter what those imbeciles over there” — he waved a hand towards the DPS, who by this time were huddled in shame around their fish feast — “would have you believe, the Worms absolutely do NOT drop aggro after a burrow.”

Grazeless nodded, savoring the advice, and trotted back to the herd. 

Round Two: Fight?

(To be continued.  Maybe.)

How I got screwed out of my ret spec.