I read on Twitter that I Like Bubbles is planning a post on guild culture. Knowing her acerbic style, (which we all love), it is certain to be really damn funny.
|When you’re honored with the Avengers, you get really good stuff, like bowler hats and umbrellas.|
Last night, got to go along to Firelands again – because of summer, visitors, other real life plans, my addition is something new to the group, and we are having a challenge in finding healers who can match the skills of the guild’s existing, long-time members. I mention this because group dynamics cause for static cling and shocks.
Needless to say, downing Shannox wasn’t quite the walk in the fire-park as it was last time, but we did get him, and his little dogs, too, as well as a lot of trash, so my reputation with the Avengers is halfway to honored. There are some tasty purple things when you prove your worth to them. So, hopefully with my own schedule demands permitting, I can get back in there and take out some more trash until I get at least to honored. The spider boss is a really fun fight, too, when I don’t fall through the holes or disoriented on the web.
Now, we have a new healer. (We seem to burn through a lot of healers: I blame myself. We all know I love to run into fire…I get chilly and forget to bring sweaters…)
And, I hesitate to write anything about a guildmate, honestly. I am old enough to know that first impressions are often not accurate, or if they are, they are usually one fraction of a person’s complex character. For example, during an interview years ago, I was told that I was “flip and irreverent.” Both of those traits may be true, but I thought I was being “charming and witty.” Even yesterday got some feedback that I can be “overbearing.” Also true. I talk too much, and can be a little high strung when there’s a lot to do. One man’s overbearing is another man’s work ethic.
But the impressions were this: he seemed very casual about showing up on time, or at all; and afterwards whispered to me he was bummed he didn’t get some shoulders or whatever, that another player was awarded. We all want the goodies, that’s for sure. (Nothing dropped that a beautiful enhancement shaman such as myself would want or need, unfortunately; I am truly the original working girl, grinding through this game is my middle name.) The player who did get the shoulders is a long-time guild member who has more than proven her steadfast, calm, and skilled play. Not only did she deserve them, but if there had been more to offer her, she would have deserved any and all boons and rewards available. I do not know her that well — she is quiet in Vent, but strikes me as a no-drama, strong, calm force in the group dynamic.
And I guess I’ve been hanging around my guild punks too long (they are adorable), because I didn’t even get annoyed, bothered, or flustered by any of their teasing. I am teased for getting lost. For dying. For dying while lost. And I suppose they said some comments about my reputation in terms of what might get written on the bathroom wall sorts of things –didn’t even notice. My very good friends know what rank titles they give to newcomers, and as I have said I needed it explained to me. My current title is hilarious, and I am very proud of it, even if I share it with ten other members, male and female. It’s not that I’m prudish or that naive, but all of their teasing about my directional skills or sexual repuation is just that: teasing. It means nothing.
But new healer asked me about it, why did the guild call me X or say Y.
Not sure why.
Did he think…no, never mind.
In any case, he and I ran a Zul afterwards, and he was very sweet and polite. Even thanked me for the run. We had a psycho tank who was calling us all noobs, even though the shadow priest was doing 20K on average, and my dps was the lowest between 9-17k. It was a sluggish night. He abandoned us in the middle of the Halazzi fight. It was kind of scary in a way, because I knew on the other end of that intertube was some creepy, raging jerk. We got a new, nicer tank, finished up, and all was well. If the prior tank hadn’t abandoned us mid-swing, we may have been able to do the bear run. Instead, I watched in horror as the last prisoner was taken out of her cell and burned in front of me. Knowing this is the fate of this beautiful troll means I will try a little harder to rescue her on the next run.
So, what’s my point? I don’t know, really. Again, I just feel grateful for my friends in the game whom I trust, made me laugh, dried my tears, and just been sweet as honey. You tolerate my irreverence and overbearing moods, and I am a lucky girl indeed. Now, here’s some Comet and a sponge: go clean off those toilet stall walls.
Postscript: Big shout-out to my favorite literary term–it was great to see you, and always fun to have you around!