[EVE Online] The OOC of it all

If you had of asked me 2 years ago if I thought I’d be living in NullSec, with Pandemic Horde, I probably would have laughed. I always thought NS was forbidden, and I left it at that. Then I learned about Pandemic Horde, and their NBI program.

The NBI program gave ships & lessons to anyone who joined Pandemic Horde Inc, no matter their background. We were allowed to fly in Dronelands in a handful of areas without being required to do heavy security checks. This was good, and bad. It left PH open to a lot of AWOX (where your own alliance mate turns and attacks you, or leads enemies to you), but that also brought some content. A lot of corporations within the alliance really disliked PHI because of their open door policy. There was a lot of paperwork involved.

Moving forward, PH has decided to change how PHI operates, and they won’t be marked blue to INIT (even now, in PHI I am neutral to most of my old alliance mates). Pandemic Horde Inc will be left out of the alliance, and this also means they cannot be wardecked. This is a sharp and drastic change to the PHI that I’ve known for the past two years. I have no idea where PH is headed, but crashing with INIT has a timeframe of 10 weeks.

There is a new branch of Pandemic Horde called Cool Beans, and it ESI is required (and has other basic security checks). Activity is also a requirement to join. We’re meant to be “graduating” from PHI to this new corporation.

I’ve done my fair share of PVP over the past two years with my PHI character. I also floated between gated / non-gated corporations within the alliance as I tried to find a good fit for my playstyle and casualness. I am a creature of habit, and the past two weeks in game have been a LOT of changes. I’m frustrated and angry with so many things, and I don’t like that in my video games.

I don’t feel like Pandemic Horde is the right corporation for me any more. I don’t feel like the changes align with how I want to play, and I especially don’t like the lack of control I have about this whole situation. I understand I am a single nobody in a whole ocean of nobodies, but it is absolutely up to me to make sure I am having the sort of game experience that I want. If I’m not, it’s up to me to change that. I also don’t like how chat has been reduced to “suck it up buttercup” if anyone complains, and how somehow we’re not “true pandemic horde members” if we are uncomfortable with how this shit show went down, or if we want to get off of the sinking ship.

I have not left yet. I’m trying very hard to make educated decisions without letting my frustration about the situation take over. I think it will just take more time.

Fly your way o7

[Warcraft] Gold Making – Week 45 (2025 Final post?)

For those who don’t know, earlier this week my account was banned for suspected RMT – now I can argue until I’m blue in the face that I have never participated in RMT before, but none of that matters unless an actual human person over at Blizzard takes a look at my case instead of their absolutely horrible AI system.

I do make a lot of gold. I do tend to gift a lot of expansions/game time/shop items to what might appear to be random people (and in some cases, are random people). I like to help people I see in need. I recently donated 10 million gold anonymously to Bears_Adventures for a future giveaway she was going to hold. I don’t know exactly what triggered my ban (Blizzard does not provide those details) but it could have been anything from the above mentioned giveaways to an actual RMT participant purchasing one of my auctions (how on earth I’m supposed to infer who is buying what of mine off of the AH, I have no idea).

This whole ordeal has left a sour taste in my mouth. I’ve done nothing wrong, tried to help those who need it, and was meticulous about following Blizzard’s own rules. Somehow, their system still got me. I did appeal, but the first one was shot down with some nonsensical reply that had nothing to do with anything I had written (leaving little doubt in my mind as to who was responding). I have appealed a second time, and reached out to Blizzard’s community team to try to get human eyes on the case. It could also have been something as simple as me transferring my own funds around between my accounts, which I tend to do. I am HOPING that this will be something that can be easily disproven, but again, it requires human interaction.

In any case. As you can tell by the tradeskillmaster ledger above, this was not a good week for gold making. I’ve been too scared to log in, because I don’t want anything to happen to my main account. Instead, I’m laying low and waiting.

[EQII] Lion’s Mane Vestige Room – The Baubleshire

While I wait for my new microphone to show up, I thought I’d show off one of my favourite housing builds. This home belongs to my halfling inquisitor, Petites. She lives in Baubleshire, and I think this home is a fantastic example of how you don’t need to own a big flashy house in order to have it represent your character well.

These houses tend to have very high ceilings which just didn’t suit the small halfling aesthetic, so I used ornate ferrite tables expanded to their largest size to create room pillars and lower ceilings.

A cozy fireplace with some books, perfect for those rainy Baubleshire days.

It just wouldn’t be a halfling home without some sort of kitchen – and of course, a lot of food.

A seating area, complete with aquarium. Keep in mind that all of these smaller rooms are inside a single inn room. I have the 2nd room blocked off and currently used for storage.

Finally, the bedroom. Everything in this house is cozy and halfling sized. It’s not too crowded, but still displays some fantastic collectables that I’ve earned over the years. This is one of my smallest builds, both in physical size, and in items used. It’s also one of my favourites.

Once I get my microphone and I’m all set up to record some videos again I’ll be posting tours of this (and my other homes) over on YouTube, so be sure to watch this space for details on that. Next up, I’ll be showing off my personal library, where I have over 700 player-written books that I’ve collected over the years!

As always, happy gaming, no matter where you find yourself.

[EVE Online] War Update

Filed by Gallente Citizen 4586793463

It began like most disasters in New Eden do — not with an explosion, but with a series of CONCORD notifications.

At first, Gallente Citizen thought it was a glitch. The Alliance feed kept lighting up, a steady drumbeat of messages from CONCORD that all read the same:

CONCORD War Update: Post Nut Clarity With The Boys has left Pandemic Horde.
CONCORD War Update: Our Sanctum has left Pandemic Horde.
CONCORD War Update: u.k militia forces has left Pandemic Horde.

And on it went.

The sound became background noise in the clone bay — the soft ping of corporate departures rolling in like rain on a tin roof. By the time Fusion Enterprises Ltd and Inner Legacy were gone, most pilots had stopped pretending not to notice.

In the hangars of F7C-H0, pilots floated between ships in that quiet, aimless way people do when they aren’t sure if they still have a home. Crates of ammunition sat unopened. Ship fittings were half-finished. The market buy orders looked like they’d been placed by ghosts.

Captain Johnny Trousersnake’s name was still pinned to the top of every alliance broadcast, but the tone in his pings had started to change — less rallying, more “we’re monitoring the situation.”

[Trousersnake Broadcast]:
“We’ve had some corporations make different choices recently. We wish them well. The Horde remains strong and united.”

In local, someone replied:

“Define strong.”

The list kept growing.

Royalty. has left Pandemic Horde.
Death’sEnd has left Pandemic Horde.
Splash Inc. has left Pandemic Horde.
Sand Storm Town INC. has left Pandemic Horde.

Every line felt like another plank being pried off a sinking ship.

By the time Office of Krabbing Regulation and Auditing left, Gallente Citizen could only laugh. The accountants had fled. That was never a good sign.

The comms chatter grew restless. Some pilots were angry, others mournful, a few just relieved to have an excuse to go somewhere else. Everyone had a theory — that Gobbins’ departure announcement had shaken the leadership, that Johnny wasn’t ready, that the move to Cloud Ring was a mistake.

Gallente Citizen listened quietly, leaning against a shuttle wing, the blue glow of Cloud Ring’s nebula reflecting off their visor.

“Are you going too?” someone asked over fleet chat.

“Nah,” Gallente replied. “I’ve already unpacked my stuff.”

There was a pause. Then someone chuckled.

“So you’re staying?”

“For now.”

It wasn’t loyalty. It was inertia. Horde might be bleeding corporations, but it was still home — at least until something better came along.

When MASS, one of the older names in the ticker, finally left, the alliance feed fell silent. Even CONCORD seemed tired of reporting it.

Golden Fleece has left Pandemic Horde.

The last one.

After that, nothing.

The absence of sound was deafening.

Gallente Citizen opened the Alliance Members window. The list looked thinner now — hollowed out. But there were still names there. Familiar ones. The pilots who stuck around not because of promises or speeches, but because they hadn’t yet decided to quit.

They closed the window and smiled faintly.

“Still plenty of us left to lose.”

Then they climbed into their Zealot, powered up the engines, and began another patrol of F7C’s gates. Not because it mattered, but because routine was comforting.

Somewhere in a distant comms relay, another CONCORD message queued up, waiting to be sent.
Gallente Citizen didn’t bother checking who it was this time.

They’d see soon enough.

[EVE Online] The Exodus to F7C-H0

Filed by Gallente Citizen 4586793463

R-AG was dying, and everyone knew it.

The alarms had been constant for days — not the sharp kind that demanded action, but the slow, low groan of a structure bleeding out. The once-golden lights of the Keepstar had dimmed to a tired amber, and clone bays across the system began to blink red one by one.

[Station Broadcast]:
“Clone service unavailable. Please contact your nearest medical technician.”

There were no medical technicians left. They’d packed up with everyone else.

Gallente Citizen’s final clone in R-AG was gone before they even realized it — the system logs reporting “data corruption” in a tone that sounded almost apologetic. The armor alarms followed soon after. The Keepstar’s outer plating flickered, burned, and went silent.

It wasn’t an explosion. It was a surrender.

And so, they left.

The evacuation to MTO2-2 was quiet — quieter than it had any right to be. The Goons still had their camps, but even their smartbombs seemed halfhearted, the way a guard dog might bark at a fence it knows won’t stand much longer.

Gallente Citizen flew through the wreckage of R-AG’s final stand, the twisted husks of Zealots and Ravens tumbling together in lazy orbit. The once-proud Keepstar loomed behind, a hollow cathedral of smoke and fire.

[Fleet Ping]: “Form up in MTO2-2. Town hall soon™.”

The word “soon” did a lot of heavy lifting.

By the time they docked, hundreds of other pilots were already crowding local comms — half of them still disoriented from deathcloning, the other half demanding to know if Gobbins was really gone this time.

He wasn’t. But the news was still monumental.

[Town Hall Transmission Begins]

“The next leader of Pandemic Horde will be… Johnny Trousersnake.”

Silence.

Then laughter. Then disbelief. Then a rising tide of pings and pantaloon memes flooding alliance chat.

Gallente Citizen listened without comment. They’d seen worse transitions. Once, back in lowsec, a corporation had elected a guy whose sole qualification was owning a microphone. At least Trousersnake had that.

“We’re moving to F7C-H0 in Cloud Ring. We’ll rebuild there. We’ll start over.”

A new home. A fresh start. A region most of the fleet couldn’t even pronounce.

Still — it was something.

Gallente Citizen self destructed to Cistuvaert V — a school system, quiet, untouched by nullsec politics. The aura of new capsuleers training at the Academy filled local with chatter and optimism.

It was peaceful there. Too peaceful.

They lingered for a moment, staring out at the nebula from the docking ring, remembering what it was like before clone bays, before citadels, before alliances with names like “Horde” and “Imperium.”

Then, with a sigh, they set their course: Cistuvaert → F7C-H0.

The journey was uneventful. No gatecamps, no smartbombs, no bubble traps. Just empty space and a few curious CONCORD patrols that didn’t bother scanning them. It was almost unsettling — as though the universe itself was taking a break from trying to kill anyone.

When the shuttle dropped out of warp over F7C, the sight was strange.

A Fortizar, bearing the logo of The Initiative. Not Horde’s.

But it would do.

Gallente Citizen docked, claimed a hangar slot, and installed a new clone. The sterile hum of the medical bay was oddly comforting.

[Clone Technician]: “Welcome to your new home.”

[Gallente Citizen]: “We’ll see.”

They sat on the observation deck, watching the soft blues of Cloud Ring stretch into infinity. Somewhere out there, Trousersnake was making speeches. Somewhere else, Gobbins was still pretending he hadn’t left yet.

But here, in this quiet moment, there was no war. No shouting. No drama. Just the hum of a Fortizar waiting to become something more.

Gallente Citizen opened their logbook, typed the title, and saved it.

‘The Exodus to F7C: Notes from the Quiet Between Wars.’

Then they leaned back in their chair and whispered,

“At least the trip was peaceful.”