vector40's blog

This was an attempt I was making in my Banshee days (towards the end) to formulate a protocol for two-man Banshee wing voice communications. Prior to this the only way to coordinate in a wing was by feel and by occasional quick text codes, but this lacked versatility; when they released Ventrilo for Mac I was excited and set out to codify a protocol for this. Voice is fast enough for on-the-fly coordination, but only if you both have agreed on a stripped-down, unambiguous code for communicating tactical requests and data.

In any case, I banged this around a little and did a bit of testing, but it never got finished and I was fading out on HPC by this point. So it just sat around.

All I've got is the notes. Thought it might interest someone.




Now, look. I didn't really want to do this, but there it is. And there's one last little thing that didn't even warrant inclusion there, so I'm just going to put it here.

I'm speaking, of course, of

How to Be a Dick in a Banshee

See, you play enough, often with people who really just... don't get the juices flowing, and a certain disturbingly sadistic side comes out. Maybe it's just me. But it's there and you find yourself basically toying with folks like a cat with a mouse. Consider this my confession. I'm not going to say that I've done everything here, but I've done everything here.

It should be observed that a number of these are actually useful techniques in and of themselves. Also, the first three of these are basically products of goatrope's depraved mind.


So we headed out from BART (the friendly local subway system) at around noon, to get there by 1:30. We’d registered online a week before, and gotten all of our players added (5 - four plus one alternate) with plenty of time to spare. A representative of the game center kept us informed of details by email; my only complaint is that we didn’t find out what time it would start until Wednesday, which wasn’t a problem for us but might have been for some others who had tighter schedules. All in all, though, the rep was helpful and cool, and obliged my request to email me the consent forms (so we could get ’em signed before the event, instead of having to haul along some adults).

We got there . . . oh, perhaps 15 minutes early, hooked up with the event coordinators and checked in. The setup was 2 Xboxen with accompanying TVs, placed on opposite ends of the room; if you had mad behind-the-head-Xray-vision skillz, you probably could see the other screen, but beyond that, no. By the time everybody had arrived, there was maybe 15, 17 players. We were the youngest by far.

In self-imposed exile from HBO. Moping around here. Ignore me.

Got jumped today. Alone in locker room, idiot. Two guys, just a little smaller, obviously veteran street-fighters, wanted cash. Nursing a swollen jaw. Kept my money. Kept my bag. They left, possibly because my mad uber-elite Jet Li skills, more probably because the bell rang and the place was about to fill up. A bit jittery now. It's not nearly as fun as it seems. Dirty and hard, fast, graceless. The irony? I was there (early... dumb) to change for Self-Defense. What a wonderful school. No point in reporting it.

My @home is getting shut down in ONE HOUR. Bastards just had to go and bankrupt themselves, didn't they?

Ah, bliss. It's so nice to have two email addresses. And I've been dreaming about any sort of privileges, much less admin ones, for ages on ages.
I'm a happy toad.


What in God's name is a blog?