My wife and I play a good amount of online games. Right now, that primarily means a lot of World of Warcraft. We’re currently dabbling in other games, but that’s all it really amounts to. WoW is clearly at the top of our gaming food chain.
We are also both ardent PvPers. It’s been that way as long as I can remember. This has had the effect of turning my house into an odd little social experiment. This ongoing, um, “scientific endeavor” has led to several revelations about the experience of PvP in general. On the off chance that this might help some MMO geek somewhere (or that my fellow gamers might find this mildly entertaining) I’ve listed the findings from our little social experiment.
Warning: There is just the tiniest, most wee little amount of cussing in this little article. Having said that, if you’re not 1) a construction worker, 2) a sailor or stevedore, or 3) a big fan of Quentin Tarantino movies, this little ditty may be ever so slightly offensive.
Anyway, without further ado, here is what we’ve learned. Among the several unintended consequences and repercussions of living in a PvP household, we’ve discovered the following phenomenon.
The Cuss-bot
You know how I know that my wife is PvPing? There’s a particular sound that comes from the living room. The sound varies somewhat, but it usually sounds something like this: “F*ck you, you STUPID overpowered f*cking warlock! I f*cking HATE you! If Blizzard didn’t give you f*cking EVERYTHING and you had to play with a normal class you wouldn’t be so f*cking cocky, you freaking dung-eating mutant!”
Fine products like this may assist you in your new-found cussing skills.
The Blamethrower
When things go wrong in our “cooperative” PvP sessions, we automatically blame each other. Finding ways to blame your partner (or anyone else that happens to be around) is, we’ve found, part of the joy that is PvP. The following exchange is typical:
Wife: “Damn warlock! Crap, I’m dotted! I NEED A HEAL!!!”
Me: “Where are you, baby…”
Wife: “Heal me! Crap, heal me!”
Me: “But did you go, sweetie-pie? You were right here a second ago…”
Wife: “HEAL HEAL HEAL HEAL!!!”
Me: “Um, I…um….I can’t find…”
Wife: “Oh, f*cking NEVER MIND. I’m dead. Thanks for being there for me.”
Mistaken Identity
This, we’ve found, is common enough to be cause the occasional household fight. Consider:
Me: “Here I am, guarding this Arathi Basin node all by myself….”
Wife: “This is gonna rock. With my new +stealth gear and new spec, they’ll never ever even know I’m here with you.”
Me: “Ok, here comes a pair of dwarves. A hunter and a pali, I think…”
Wife: “K, I’ll try to sap the pali. Then we’ll double-team the hunter and….wait, I don’t see…”
Me: “They’re hesitating. The hunter is using his flare to try to find you.”
Wife: “Where the heck are they? I don’t see anyone except you.”
Me: “They’re right in front of me…get ready to sap! Ok, sap the hunter…too late, he’s shooting! Gouge somebody, get them off me, F*CK I’M DEAD.”
Wife: “I’m looking right at you. You’re fine.”
Me: “WTF, woman? I’m DEAD…wait, what node are you at?”
Wife: “I’m with you at the mine.”
Me: “I’m at the lumber mill.”
Wife: “Oh. (Long pause) Uh, funny story: There’s this orc shaman, and he looks just like you, standing all by himself at the mine….”
Breaking Stuff
Breaking things is a part of PvP. It cannot be helped. It can’t be controlled. It’s going to happen. This is a five step process.
1. Get really really pissed when you get the crap kicked out of you.
2. Get even more pissed when the guys that just killed you act like jackasses. “Acting like a jackass” can include them sitting on your body, corpse camping you, or using emotes like /spit, /fart, or /laugh. Or when they kill you for the 3rd, 4th, or 7th time in a row.
3. Never admit that your opponents might just be better than you are. Make excuses, most of which should include allegations of them using hax or otherwise cheating.
4. When you try to get your revenge and fail, get outrageously pissed off. Grab something nearby – your headset or mouse are both really handy – and throw them across the room.
5. When the aforementioned object breaks, get extra-super pissed off, blame your opponent(s) for breaking it, and log off for the next two days.
If you find yourself breaking too many headsets, this reinforced model may help
Provoking Your Spouse (Or Girlfriend or Roommate or Buddy or Significant Other or Life Partner)
This is really easy. For most people, this just comes naturally. Whenever your spouse expresses any frustration at PvP, simply try being dismissive, condescending, or curt with them. This is certain to drive them from mere frustration to outrageous anger. And it will do so instantly. If you’re not sure how to appropriately provoke your spouse, here are a few things to try any time he/she says something like, “This battleground SUCKS. Why can’t these people capture the DAMN FLAG?”
“Oh, relax.”
“I told you your new spec was gonna suck.”
“Are you going to break another headset? Those cost twenty-nine bucks you know…”
“Shhhh! I can’t hear Dr. Phil!”
“LOL, I just killed three warlocks back to back! Oh, sorry, were you saying something?”
“I’m going to tell the therapist about this!”
“Oh, come on. It’s only a game.”
“You’re not being very mature, you know.”
The Visitors
Sometimes friends drop by. Remember how I said my wife was a church-goer? Well, some of our friends, including several of our neighbors, are church friends.
Clergymen are often impressed by our family’s PvP skills
Although this lends itself to a variety of intriguing foibles, the worst is the use of the back door. When people come to the front door, the bell rings and you know a visitor has dropped by. The back door has no bell, and people can be let into the house without everyone else knowing about it. Our neighbor, for example, has “stopped by” to talk to my wife from time to time. It goes like this:
Wife: “Hi neighbor! How are you?”
Neighbor: “Hi, I’m so sorry to intrude! Dave and I are going away this weekend, and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind feeding out cat for us while we’re away?”
Wife: “No problem. Is the food in the same cabinet?”
Me (in some distant room in the house): “DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!”
Neighbor: “Uh, yes, it’s in the same cabinet…”
Me: “Get your f*cking demon off me!”
Wife: “And the key? It’s still under the flower pot in the back?”
Me: “Your curses are weak, you lame-ass!”
Neighbor: “Yes, same place…Is everything all right?”
Me: “Ah, crap, I’m feared into the lava! I HATE THE FUCKING LAVA, YOU CHEATER!”
Wife: “Oh, yes, that’s just Pig. He’s playing a game.”
Neighbor: “Oh, I see. Sounds like fun.”
Me: “YOU DAMN CHEATING DEMON SUMMONING MOTHER F*CKER!”
The Best Laid Plans…
We have a potentially huge PvP advantage: We sit side-by-side when we play, we are able to communicate immediately with one another, and we PvP together constantly.
And yet, rarely do our plans work perfectly. The other night we got together with our buddy Garroc. The whole idea was to run some Eye of the Storm battlegrounds, get some honor and marks of honor, and have a good time. We even had a nice, flexible plan. Unfortunately, there were a few difficulties we didn’t foresee.
- The warlock with the best gear any of us had ever seen. She killed all three of us inside of 40 seconds. Result: Aside from dying, there was a lot of extremely vulgar cussing by myself, my wife, and Garroc on Ventrilo.
- Garroc getting stuck in a hole – dunno what to call it, exactly, but it was some sort of terrain feature – right in the middle of a thick brawl at the flag. Instead of being in a 3-on-3 matchup, we were now only 2 on 3 since he managed, more or less, to root himself. Result: he finally got out of the hole. He accomplished this by using his famous “corpse run” technique. And yes, we both died with him.
- That warlock again. Result: 3 quick, painful deaths.
- The three night elves who had stealthed at a tower we thought was an “easy capture.” Man, I hadn’t seen this trick in a long time. Wish I could say I missed it. Result: I was shot with so many arrows so quickly I didn’t get a chance to see my buddies die.
- A group of three paladins that proved freaking impossible to kill. Two fight, one heals. If we break off to kill the healer, they simply switch roles. Result: This is one long-ass, incredibly frustrating fight. The winner isn’t decided by skill, it’s decided by which side gets reinforcements first.
- That warlock again. Bitch.
- Some pesky gnome mage with hellish sheeping skills. Don’t know how she pulled it off, but she’d sheep one of us, then escape. Then she’d reappear at the most inconvenient time to sheep one of us again. Then she’d escape. This pattern repeated itself just enough to be infuriating. She never killed us, we never killed her. Result: three infuriated Hordies.
- The “wolf pack”. It’s amazing how quickly 3 rogues can kill one shaman. This is especially true if his friends run in circles, unable to successfully land a single hamstring or gouge. Result: 1 dead shaman, one live warrior, one live rogue, lots of cussing and blaming.
- That warlock again. This time we abandoned the flag and ran, screaming like little girls, the moment we saw her. It didn’t matter. She ran us down and killed two out of three of us. Result: intellectual discussion of what specific nerfs warlocks need.
Real World Conversations
There is, as most people are well aware, a language to gaming that is all its own. There is a subset to that language, however. Many people aren’t aware of it. It’s PvP Speak, and if you do enough PvP, it creeps into your everyday conversations.
There are two downsides to this. The first is that people will generally detect that this is some sort of “elite” internet or gaming jargon. The second is that no one will be able to understand what the heck you’re talking about. I recommend that you avoid the following phrases (variations of which both the wife and I have found ourselves using) to prevent the embarrassing use of PvP Speak in your own life.
“Hi Pig, how’s the sprained ankle?”
“LOL, I’ve been walking around town like I’ve been frost shocked all day.”“Hey Elvyra, I heard you got in a car accident.”
“Yeah, the guy hit me really hard. It was like I’d gotten smacked with a Gorehowl or something.”“The meeting was horrible. Freakin’ district managers ganked Anton over the Sullivan account, and wouldn’t give him a break. Damn corpse campers.”
(While checking out a friend’s new car): “Dude, sweet mount!”
“Have you seen the new receptionist? She’s like one of those little blood elf minxes.”
“It’s so frustrating. Me and Frank do all the work around here, and everyone else is just honor farming.”
“What the hell is with this traffic? It’s like somebody placed a big freezing trap right on the damn freeway!”
Conclusions
What conclusions can be drawn from all this? Well, certainly living in a PvP home has been an enlightening experience. PvP isn’t, we’ve learned, simply about in-game fighting. PvP is also about the real-life bickering, fighting, and arguing that is caused by the in-game fighting. It’s also about developing some truly extraordinary swearing skills, being condescending, and blaming each other for any frustrations that may result from PvP. PvP has crept into our language, so that our friends and family think we’re total geeks (more so than usual), and no one understands us.
More than anything else, though, PvP is about the weekly family outing to Best Buy or Fry’s. They’re having a sale on new headsets and, um, we accidentally broke ours in Warsong Gulch the other night.
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