Tag Archives: Recreation

Skyrim: Lydia the Psychopath

Today some dude randomly came running at me with his sword. I guess he was guarding a cave or something and we got too close?

Anyway, I’m standing there waiting for him to hit me so I don’t feel bad about fighting back, when Lydia just completely lost it. She jumps in front of me and just slaughters this guy and all his friends. Whoa.

So then we go into this dark, creepy cave and she’s all “I have a bad feeling about this…” Yes, Lydia. Thank you. I got that. But then I’m scrounging for food for us and she starts yawning.  I’m sorry, is my search for life giving sustenance boring you?!

Anyway, it wouldn’t let me thank her for killing that guy, and now that I know she’s apparently a psychopath I definitely want to stay on her good side, so I bought her a health necklace and an enchanted ring to boost her stamina.

Of course when I gave them to her she got all sarcastic again, *sigh* “I’m sworn to carry your burdens…” and I thought that was a little unfair, so I also bought her a horned helmet.

She looks very silly.

 

Wanna play a game…?

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Skyrim: No one’s ever given me a girl before…

Today I killed a dragon; then I ate his soul. It’s complicated.  But now I can get people away from me by yelling at them and that’s pretty cool. The Jarl was so happy I saved the town he gave me a lot of stuff I can’t carry. Then he gave me a girl to help carry it, which was sweet, but now I have a girl following me around.

She seems to have a bit of a chip on her shoulder though. It’s hardly my fault the Jarl gave her to me. I tried to tell her I wasn’t comfortable owning her, but she was welcome to stay as a friend of her own free will – but the game wouldn’t let me express that properly.

She keeps asking how she can help so I asked her to carry some things for me to help her feel useful, because I know *I* like to feel useful, but she got snippy with me about it:

*sigh* “I’m sworn to carry your burdens…”

Maybe I’ll trade her for a dog. Dogs are never sarcastic about helping. No one’s ever given me a girl before.

***

It’s been a few days and Lydia (the girl) is still following me around and being snarky about carrying things. I’m trying to figure out if I need to feed her and make sure she sleeps or if she takes care of herself.

Can she die? What happens if I hit her? If I run into her she says “ouch” so I know she can feel…

It seems weird to just be all “okay… I’m going to bed… are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night…?”

Apparently I can tell her to wait places and she will. Can I leave her in the middle of nowhere? That seems dangerous. Shouldn’t I put her somewhere safe??

 

Wanna play a game…?


Skyrim: You’re getting awfully judgey, Screen.

I don’t know how but I somehow managed to not die a fiery death that day. Through a series of uncoordinated and clumsy movements I managed to catch up to the terminator, who stood patiently waiting among the chaos.

As  I approached him, he took off toward another building then stopped to watch me lumber along behind him. When I caught up he went in. I’m starting to sense a pattern here.

Inside, the terminator began babbling about dragons and Stormcloaks, which seemed a bit silly for a robot from the future, but I just kept my mouth shut and followed  him around like Igor from a Mel Brooks movie. This turned out to be a good strategy because he unbound my hands.

“Pickpocket Hadvar?” asked the screen. Oh. He has a name. Well that’s good. But stealing from a killer machine who just unbound my hands seems ungrateful at the very least.

“Let’s get you some supplies,” says Hadvar. So I wander off to explore the room.

“Pick lock?” my screen asks as I approach a prison cell. Picking locks and stealing from others, huh? You certainly don’t have a very high opinion of me, Screen. But why not? It looks empty to me… 

So I picked that lock and every other lock in the room. I also picked up everything I could and practiced moving around and jumping for a while. The terminator watched this all stoically from the door. An hour later I approached him.

“Are you done?”

Why yes, Hadvar, I’ve had my fill of this room. Lead on!

I’ll say one thing for him, he’s extremely patient. 

 

Wanna play a game…?

 


Skyrim: Swan Dive

I’m not moving.

I’m just standing there as panicked people spontaneously combust around me.

The terminator took off towards a door but I remain still. A brief experiment reveals I can now move on my own. Of course. NOW I can move. A fine time to be abandoned by my  possessors but all things considered they clearly want me dead.  This seems illogical. Never-the-less I attempt to run after my terminator and find I move with the grace of a newborn foal.

HOW MANY THUMBS AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE?!

I stumble into the building my terminator disappeared into and find more people in a panic. Less of them are on fire though, so I figure we’re better off than before. I look around for Ulfric Stormcloak since the dragon came quite strategically and I’m no dummy but he’s no where to be seen.

The terminator informs me if we can make it to the something-or-another we should be safe and then takes off up the stairs. I’m a little confused, but I guess they don’t do so well with fire considering they’re made of metal.

I follow him up drunkenly and he yells, “follow me!” and jumps out a window. Maybe he wasn’t programmed to understand the vulnerabilities of humans? But then it occurs to me that no one ever said I was human, so I proceed to belly-flop into a burning pile of wood.

“Your hands are bound,” says the screen helpfully.

 

Wanna play a game…?

 


Skyrim: John Connor will save me

Someone is yelling at another prisoner to my left. They keep calling him Ulfric Stormcloak so I imagine this is important.

I’m being led to the head-chopping-block, presumably against my will, by someone or something unseen. The ground begins to tremble, distracting pretty much everyone, and I take the opportunity to try to run:

“Your hands are bound,” the screen says helpfully. I don’t see its point; I don’t need my hands to run. It becomes clear I’m in no way in control of my own limbs because I continue moving towards the block. Maybe I’m a robot?

They continue yelling at Ulfric Stormcloak while I stoically approach my death. Kneeling, I place my head on the block. Apparently I’m suicidal, too.

The ground shakes and I hear weird noises. Everybody panics. I’m not sure what I will do, so I sit back and wait to find out. I stand up. Seems wise. People are yelling about a dragon and then bursting into flames.

“Your hands are bound,” I am reminded.

A man in an imperial uniform begins yelling to me and suggests I follow him to safety, which seems a little odd considering these people just called for my execution. It suddenly occurs to me that what he essentially just said was “come with me if you want to live” and I decide he must be a terminator sent by John Connor to protect me.

I wonder why I’m important to John Connor and wait for my robot overlords/puppet masters to move me to safety.

 

Wanna play a game…?


These chains that I wear? They bore me.

I know, I know. I already posted today. What a ham. But really this happened on the 17th, and this place wasn’t real yet. So bear with me.

—————–

Things that happened in my head today. Er… two days ago:

PINCH THE FROG! Whoa, poor frog.  It’s like I’ve been stabbed in the gut. Or
kicked and stomped and then stabbed.  It’s rather uncomfortable.  It’s not
the frog’s fault though.

First Google image hit for “Pinch the Frog” (source)

Where are you, Chekhov? Engage the thrusters.
It’s like working in a zoo, but I failed the test. I do not have a
zookeepers license or credentials… and this damn monkey just Wont. Stop.
Laughing. I hate monkeys.
This guy has a silly snork too.  what’s a silly snork?

This, apparently. (source)

And then he dies in fits and boils. Not the snork.
Why do people say “it’s all natural” like that makes it automatically good?
Heroin is all natural lady, so back away now.

Also why do people say “it’s full of chemicals” like that makes it automatically bad? What exactly is it that you think you’re made of guy?

Your face is full of chemicals.

But, I haven’t seen your crocodile.
Oh god, my head. I think I’m dying.  Well, you are, technically. Slowly. But
why not painlessly? I probably wouldn’t want it to be painless.  I’d want to
know it was coming.
Because October is not November, nor is it September. Ever. Well, unless you
really wanted it to be. But we’d all have to agree.

Like this. (source)

I need my hair to not be my hair anymore.  It needs to stop now.
The last man standing gets eaten.
Sometimes I wonder if anybody thinks…

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