What is there to see in this school that I can’t see outside of its doors? I think that’s what Jack would say – coming up on my least favorite area in Elden Ring but one, at the time, most of my social media feeds seemed wholly split on. It was either an area choked with cheap encounters or the one so wholly built that it was there to separate the weaker players from the ones committed to the genre. I agreed, running my face repeatedly into walls that I had too low Vigor to actually deal with, one shotted by all manner of spells and channeling my frustrations into the character I was playing for Elden.
I want to keep getting more art commissioned, I wanted to maybe make a video or two on the way. Elden Ring stopped being a videogame and became like something of a Fantasy canvas to paint a world on. Who was Jack? A drunk, a sailor, a soldier, lost without anything to cling on to. At the time I was drinking heavier than I ever have, waking up every morning with a still-sick feeling clinging to my bones and coming out through my mouth. Retching the contents of the night before out into my cracked-porcelain and piss stained toilet. The yellow of my stomach bile painting the rust with new patinas of acid over time.
the game developers convention left a pitch black hole of energy somewhere deep in me. Coming face to face with some sort of monster and making it out alive, well, that’s how I told myself we got away with it. The people we talked to are still reeling and finally able to move on, so I have to return to older projects to gain a steady footing. Please, if you will:
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