I wanted to do a more in-depth write-up on my experiences with Dissidia 012, because I feel like I’m getting a much better handle on it than I ever did with the original. In fact, I was excited about putting the PSP down long enough to type up some thoughts on the characters and game modes I’d been playing even while still at work this morning. But the elements had conspired against me; there were violent and raging storms, up to and including tornado warnings for the area.
My metric for when a storm is too bad to leave the computer plugged in is to watch and see if my tiny dog Edgar curls up into a panicked, convulsing ball behind one of the toilets. This in fact being the case, I played it safe and unplugged everything in the game room. I then settled in with my PSP and attempted to out-awake the storm.
It was not to be. I hung in there like a trooper, but by 4pm or so I was so tired I could no longer effectively land Bartz’s Holy -> Flare combo. I turned off the PSP, collected my pile of terrified dog from behind the toilet, and went to bed. The new plan was to sleep until Peanut got home from work, eat dinner, then do whatever Dissidia typings needed done.
That, also, was not to be. Peanut did, in fact, wake me up. But it was not for dinner! No, sir, I was awoken on account of fire. I wasn’t able to capture many details from the haze of my only half-awakened stupor, but the jist was that the building was burning down and we all had to go outside.
As a result, I’ve spent the last forty minutes or so standing outside in the drizzle. Barefoot, of course, because I thought I was fleeing for my life. Six firetrucks eventually pulled into our apartment complex having spent three or four minutes locked outside of the privacy gates.
(Side note: don’t they have an access key that gets them through the gates? What if people were for-real burning to death? I don’t like the idea of waiting three extra minutes to get pulled out of a burning building because that’s how long it takes the gate to open. I don’t see the point of those stupid gates anyway. I should probably make a note to rant about them in another post someday.)
Once they got that figured out they maneuvered all their equipment into our cramped parking lot. A couple guys jumped out of the first truck, shone their flashlights on one of the electrical boxes on the side of the building, and shrugged at each other. Then they went back to the truck.
This process repeated several times, always with the same two guys. I don’t know what the guys in the other trucks were doing. I began to suspect I was actually having a very lucid dream, perhaps caused by smoke inhalation. Meanwhile, all the excitement and flashing lights were doing Edgar absolutely no amount of good. You could actually look through his tiny little eyes and see his brain melting down inside his head.
Peanut eventually got tired of being climbed on by an emotionally traumatized bag of claws and whimpers, and asked the firemen if we could go back inside. He said yes, so here we are.
Right now, I’m on edge waiting for the next disaster to strike. Not really in the mood to type stuffs about vidjagames. I’m thinking meteors and leprechauns sound equally likely about now. I think the damage has already been done to poor Edgar. He’s shaking so badly I wouldn’t be surprised if his insides were ground to a fine powder by now.