22 April 2010

Dearest Wormhole Neighbors:

I will chop off your arm. When you decide to run away from me, I will tase your body so that you are so filled with pain and terror that you wet yourself. While you're lying there twitching from the electric shock, I will douse your body in gasoline and burn you to a hideous char. Since I am not entirely without mercy, I will graciously douse the flames with my own urine. As you try to crawl away on your charred, urine-soaked hands and knees, I will stand on your back and ride your decrepit, failing body. I will then pull out a machete, and sever your head. THEN I SHALL PLAY SOCCER WITH YOUR HEAD. Following which, I shall play catch with the dogs with your head. And when your charred, urine soaked head provides no more amusement for the dogs, I will smash it like a hellish Gallagher with a sledgehammer, splattering brains all about. (ingame).

This is for you, Quantum Conglomerate.

I ninja into your wormhole while you're running sites, and as the tower comes up and starts coming online, I issue a friendly greeting in local.


Any polite, caring person would say hello, nice to meet you, and then proceed to the killing/pew pew.

You took my olive branch, snapped it over your knee, and pissed on it. This is unforgivable.

However, I have solutions for dealing with people like you.

Since I can't take your tower out by my lonesome in a class 3 since I can't get a dread...


What was your wormhole, and could have been ours through co-operation, will be mine through overwhelming, completely unnecessary force.

And glorious force it shall be.


I haven't updated for a while as I have done a complete 180 in how I play Eve- the freedom's going to my head and now I'm switching paths like a schizophrenic wiener dog.


I have only not updated because I could not find the correct words to describe RAEG.

Those have been found. Will update.

14 April 2010

First Blood

...and damn was it easy.

This is going to be fun. After about a half hour chatting with one of AWI- oh wait, I'm jumping into this far too soon, aren't I?

Right. Yarrow Shipbuilders kinda fell to the wayside when I saw this.


Alright. Go take a look. I'll wait.

Done? Yeah, I know! Shiny things! They lose them so often. So. Yeah. Yarrow Shipbuilders I don't care about.

Okay, back to the story. After about a half hour chatting with one of AWI's better combat pilots and faffing around in a Stabber trying to catch two t1 frigs while getting shot at by a Nighthawk, I decide that screw it, I'ma dock and get some food.

After successfully "forcing" me to dock, AWI decides to camp me in. I'm being camped by a Nighthawk, an Apoc, and a Thorax. The Nighthawk leaves while I'm grabbing food, and so just an Apoc and Thorax are camping me.


Should have brought more firepower. I would have had the Apoc too, but he had the presence of mind to deaggress and redock when he hit about 80% structure. Alas. You can't have them all. And they took me to a whopping 93% armor. Dear God.

More to come, including the RP post and video (whenever I figure out how to edit those well.)

10 April 2010

A concurrent investigation

While the unfortunate realities of timezone differences has kept me from engaging Vladimir Norkoff at this time, I feel that I should open up a second avenue of things for me to shoot.

Enter Yarrow Shipbuilders.

To: Alfred Yarrow
From: SolusLunes

Good day, sir.

As you are the CEO of the Yarrow Shipbuilders corporation, I feel I am obligated to let you know that the services of Griefing Inc have been contracted for an investigation on your illegal activities in the New Eden universe.

The paperwork is currently being processed through our corporation before being forwarded to CONCORD for approval, so we may have a second remedy available to you. A sufficient donation to the coffers of Griefing Incorporated, say a sum of one hundred million isk, will result in the war declaration paperwork being horribly misfiled into the shredder.

We eagerly await your response.

Griefing Inc CEO

08 April 2010

First Target (RP)

Freedom. Sweet freedom. Not to say I haven't enjoyed my time with the 22nd Black Rise Defensive Unit, but it is nice to be forging my own path across the stars.

And by "forging my own path" I of course mean "sleeping on the goddamn Legion because I haven't decided where I'm going to base GI out of."

Shit, that can't be good for my back. The Amarrians know how to make things goddamn shiny, but for comfort, nothing can match the memory-foam molded bunks of my beloved Tengu. The Amarrians believe apparently "Pain is a step closer to God." Maybe that's why they're always so uptight. Can't sleep on this shit, can't sleep with the computer's systems constantly sending out religious chants through the speakers during all hours of the day. That was easy enough to fix in my Armageddon- just shoot all the speakers.

I'll get on that in the morning.

Ah, right, nearly forgot. Got the necessary palms in Concord greased to get them to look the other way when I shoot people in Empire. "Incorruptible" my ass. They even have forms to fill out for the damn bribes. Can't avoid paperwork. Ever.

I haven't decided to shoot any fluffy bears this first time- I've never been particularly good at tracking people down who don't want to fight, and I want to start Griefing Inc out with a bang. Or massive failure. Whatever. So I've declared war on the Income Redistribution Service, led by some mentally-deluded nutjob. I heard he's crazy, but doesn't run from fights. Should be a simple enough job, no profit in it though.

My contacts in the Amarrian Ministry of Internal Order have informed me that he currently operates out of Vuorrasi- Vuorrasisith oh fuck it you know where it is. Can't sleep for shit in Amarrian quarters, but their intelligence services can't be equaled. Unless you're a Gallente whore with huge tits, but I can't say that I am.

Might as well get over there. This'll be a fun flight- at least the Amarrians can't make the pod any more uncomfortable than it is already.

First target of many

Alright. I suppose I should introduce myself. I've been called a pirate, an asshole, and generally other very unfriendly things.

I prefer the term "Griefer."

Because nothing brings quite a smile to my face as the sweet tears of people whose days I have ruined.

Is this pathological? Entirely possible. But it is who I am.

So. Onto today's target. I don't expect tears. In fact, I sincerely hope I won't get tears. Because I've declared war on someone who I respect, and think would be a good target for me to test this whole "Griefing Inc" thing out on.

That person is none other than the Taxman himself, Vladimir Norkoff.

We'll see how well I can track down someone who doesn't shy away from a fight- I picked him mainly because of that. Shouldn't be difficult, except for the pew-pew part. Looking forward to that one.

More to come when I see Vlad ship-to-ship. And then ship-to-pod shortly thereafter. :]

06 April 2010

All griefing begins somewhere.

Today it begins at Griefing Inc.

More to come when tears are had.