The Worst.

This is a tale of two cloaks, closing in on the end of an expansion, neglected and beloved characters who, hats and helms in hand, requested of their human to just see…just try…and it turns into a tale of OCD, annoyance, and losing zen.

Haanta, dutifully, and sans complaint, scoured the Timeless Isle, picking up whatever scraps of leather, like some bloodthirsty park keeper, and getting pretty decent gear from Ordos. Why not get a cloak? WHY NOT?! She was lagging behind the others, and she needed to get the 3000 Valor Points for Wrathion. What he’s doing with all this stuff: might as well be collecting ears and toe nail clippings, the little creep. Turns out, and I had forgotten this, the good and bad news: you can purchase valor with Timeless Isle coins: valor cap is 1000 per week.

Okay, okay, so she’ll wait, no big whoop. And then week three:

2980/3000
WHATTHE

All right, all right, deep cleansing breaths: Ceniza, how are you doing? You’re further along the process, and how she got further along I have no idea. Mages. Must have been moonlighting for arcane power and sheep herding late at night when no one was looking. Anyway, all she needs now are the Secrets. Then the thing. Then the other

Ceniza: I get it

thing. And the trillium, mustn’t forget that. And the other stones and stuff, and then the other stuff and things. But Ceniza still, (and I’ll slip into third-person voice to repress this) is a terrible fire mage. She is. I did some cursory reading of Icy Veins, and some things are starting to make sense. But some things—aren’t. Her gear’s not great, but it’s not bad, and she’s always playing blink-catch up, and it’s on cool down.

She always looks fantastic though, because that’s what matters:

The Green Mage

But after much thought, I realized if “they” don’t fix this thing with the Area 51 Alien bug eyes, every character will be a Dwarf:

 

Every. Last. One.

But hey, it’s not the end of the world, is it? All in due time. Unless of course you want to play in my end of the world mog contest, then yes, tomorrow is the day. Email me your entry and screenshot – mataoka. of.exodar@gmail.com. Till then–and be glad hair styles have changed:

 

Wings of Redundancy

I feel like I’m cheating right now–it’s ‘sacred writing time’ in my workshop and I’m posting about Momokawa’s wings. What would my compatriots think of me if I shared this? Bemused confusion I suspect. Azeroth is a not-so-secret secret world, but I feel furtive. Hmmm. Anyway, yes, a fourth cloak. As was the second, and third, each become subsequently easier. Especially with the Black Prince buff last week or so, gathering the goopy goop he wanted just so he could snack on king’s hearts was relatively facile. Even the final challenge of healing Wrathion through his sad and painful confrontation with the ghost of his father proved simple – I didn’t have to look up any strategies for a druid healer. When the burning bubbles started to chase her, she simple took a deep breath and rooted them all in place and returned to tossing leaves on herself and the Prince. It didn’t hurt that her gear is wonderful and strong.

Now what are my plans for all of these cloaked wonders? Well, I noticed how easy it is to do open raid for normal, so I’m just going to hang out, add my name to list depending on whomever I feel like playing that day (it’s easy to get a spot as a healer) and see if I can get Garrosh on normal. I hesitate here at the keyboard because there are a lot of things I am not typing now. I am not typing how I still sting over the miscommunication, or misunderstandings of being on a raid team. Fortunately, my dear friend Neo might be around more, too, as his guild and group are very kind and inclusive. But I’ve said and explored these thoughts numerous times, and it’s time to move on.

The cloaks? I hope there are plans to keep them. What did I really do this for? They are beautiful. When I was a bride, I didn’t want the day to end — I felt like a princess, and it seemed heartbreaking to feel so beautiful and evanescent.

I want to say something about summer. I want to pin down the light.   I keep turning off the fluorescent lights in the room, but someone keeps insisting, passively, that they remain on. I want the green and rich pine light to filter in the framed windows. And I want to take flight on those wings.

 

Drabble: Light as a feather…

As strong as flight…

After a baby’s age, confidence demands attention and fostering. We lose more the higher we grow, it seems, and do not get back up. However, a little one will pull itself up, tumble, fall, and attempt to walk. While understanding defeat, she does not know surrender. Sheer pride in wobbly steps, buckling thighs, drooling grin: the priest felt this same joyous pride after healing with passion, and defending her host with power. She wished he could have seen her. He would have been so proud of her. However, Mrs. Whitworth wanted her to try it on four legs, not two.

First light…

 

Bulging disc…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cub is home with tummy ache, and though he can manage, figured I might as well try some motherhood redemption and take care of him; kind of a front since I also have procrastinated projects of my own, so might as well – and….

…going to try to finish Zep’s cloak quest. As much as I would have liked for all the Titan Runestones to finish dropping during my break so I could have taken a full, guilt-free day and tried and tried again, it wasn’t in the cards. I did try once, and then realized I really don’t know what the hell I am doing. I die way too fast, or Wrathion does, or someone gets a splinter or steps on a rock or sun’s in their eyes…

While researching how things have gone terribly wrong, the first video that pops up is Cymre’s! So wish me luck again, more so in finishing my projects than that cloak…/sigh