Since yesterday was basically not-especially condensed whinging, I shall try to be positive today. Putting aside disastrous friend-runs, I’ve actually been quite lucky with my PUGs lately. There was, of course, the neophyte pally and her undead mentor who whisper me fairly regularly these days, usually to heal UK, although I have now run UK so many times I’m actually bored of the damn thing. I can spam CoH with the best of them. To be honest, it’s partially vanity on my part because they make me feel loved and appreciated. It does have an air of “ahaha! A healer! We shall keep him!” but, of course, I’m already seeing a tank, so it’s slightly awkward.
Wouldn’t want to make M’Pocket Tank jealous.
I’m thinking back on an old(ish) Misneach post about tank/healer chemistry and it’s kind of amusing to see it filtered through PUGs. I mean, if you take guilds to be established social networks, into which newcomers are carefully introduced, LFG must be a sleazy bar for desperate singles. In LFG, the drinks are cheap and plentiful, it’s always after midnight and there you are, always the detritus of the evening; it’s either take what you can get or spend the empty, grey hours till dawn loving angels instead. So you gyrate up to the least-troglodytic of your fellow discards:
“LF Healer?” you bellow over the terrible music, squinting in the unflattering pink wash of the disco lighting
“Naw, DPS,” he/she replies, disinterestedly
“I could off-DPS,” you offer, with a winning, eager smile.
Rejected. Scorned. Not quite spat upon. There’s nothing for it but to approach the second least-troglodytic of the rapidly dwindling crowd and repeat until your soul dies (or you manage to put a run together).
And some of the tanks you hook up with are clearly only in it for the healz, and they don’t care how they get them, or from whom. But some of them, I think, aspire to a better life. They still have romance in their hearts. They want to meet not just a healer but the healer. They don’t just want to a run an instance with you, they want something a bit more stable, a bit more meaningful, maybe something regular.
It’s a little bit tragic really. There should be some alternative meeting system for lonely tanks looking for that perfect healer, and bitter, burned out healers searching for someone in platemail to save them from themselves.
Sounds like the premise of a WoW romcom actually…
“Darling,” he said tenderly, “from the first moment I saw you blundering through the Scarlet Monastery in quest greens I knew there was something special about you but it wasn’t until you healed me through the steps of ZF that I realised you were bind on pick up.”
Sorry. This is an absurd flight of fancy. How did I get here? What was I talking about? Who am I? What am I doing?
Several successful PUGs. I am very happy. M’Pocket Tank and I have fallen in a with a warlock from one of Emerald Dream’s more (supposedly) hardcore raiding guilds. We ran AN and the weekend and DTK yesterday. AN is a pointless hole in the ground but nobody told me there was a fuck off enormous dinosaur in DTK. I am completely converted to Northrend instances. Yes, I am that shallow.
I don’t know what was wrong with us but we ran DTK like a bunch of spanners. There was self, M’Pocket Tank, a deathtard, a hunter and the warlock. The hunter was shockingly, amazingly competent. And the Deathtard turned out to be 14 but was very sweet and, actually, by no means the worst DK I’ve played with. I think that says damning things about the class as a whole. But basically we were all off our game. M’Pocket kept accidentally body pulling. At one point, I blinked and when I’d opened my eyes again I was a big glowing blue angel and everybody else was dead. Did I fall asleep on the job? The warlock committed suicide while opening a can of beer and spamming Rain of Fire on a large group of mobs (there’s a moral in there somewhere, kids).
We got through it through and the whole experience was actually, bizarrely, gigglesomely fun. There was a lot of banter and a lot of apologising and lot of not really playing any less like spanners. But it does go to show that whatever magic spark makes an instance a genuinely pleasant experience isn’t necessarily quantifiable. If someone had told me at the outset “you’re going to run an instance, and you’re going to play like a spanner all the way through” I’d have surely gone “errr, sorry, I think I’ll pass.”
The spannering zenith (or do I mean nadir) came when I was squealing happily at the fuck off enormous dinosaur and it somehow seemed like a good idea to suggest that the hunter try to make a pet of it. I will generous take 25% of the blame for what followed but I think the hunter deserves at least 50% for agreeing to it and the other 25% of blame can be apportioned to the rest of the party for egging us on.
I’ve never seen a hunter in action but the plan, as I understood it, involved the hunter making sweet sweet love to the fuck off enormous dinosaur while I kept her alive. Fuck off enormous dinosaurs apparently like it rough. But, anyway, the flaw in this otherwise sound and watertight plan was this (I suppose you’ve already spotted it – and I like to think I’d have spotted it myself if I hadn’t been in the grip of Spanneritus): healing, of course, generates threat.
So was happened was this:
Hunter: So … what’s a nice fuck off enormous dinosaur like you doing in an instance like this?
King Dread: ROAAAAAR!
Me: Renew, flash heal, flash heal, greater heal SQUISH.
Hunter: So … do you maybe, y’know, wanna come back to my place and catch a Doug McClure movie… SQUISH.
I guess King Dread just isn’t that kind of fuck off enormous dinosaur.