I had a dream. A dream where we could venture out in New Eden in our mining barges or PVE fitted ships and do what we felt like with not a care in the world. Be free to mine roids or mission run in low sec without the fear of being ganked. We could watch out wallets increase in units to our heart's content. No one out there ruining how we wanted to play the game. Joy and happiness manifest.
Uneasiness came over me. I had to ask myself a question: was this dream of my own cognition? I could feel it. It was coming closer to me. Surrounding me. I could hear it. It was speaking to me. Telling me it was not so. Something was terribly wrong. For days this feeling lingered over me. Organizing my corporation's activities, setting up industry operations, getting my subordinates isk and posting information, it just did not leave me.
After months of being in a capsule, I felt the need to stretch my legs. I set my destination to Jita 4-4. Dangerous, I know. Those ******* Goons had been causing all sorts of havoc. Just messing with people who want to make their way in New Eden without being harassed. I took the chance anyway. At Jita 4-4, there are always new people to meet and make mining deals with. I made my way passed the suicide gankers without being touched. It was a relief. Still, the sight of the suicide gankers made me feel more uneasy.
I got out of my pod, walked to my quarters and collapsed on a bed for the first time in years. The suicide gankers kept on running through my mind. The want to just be left alone to lock roids while watching youtube followed. Let''s just say trying to get to sleep that night was difficult. I woke multiple times and it took quite some time to go back to sleep.
I woke for the forth time. Something was not right. I wondered over to the basin and splashed some water on my face. I looked in the mirror and could not longer recognize the man in the mirror. I noticed that the features had become soft. Become soft, the words stuck with me. I asked myself whether or not spending so much time in Empire Space had made me become soft. I kept on repeating 'become soft'. I started to hyperventilate while repeating 'become soft'. The word 'soft' started to make me giggle. The suicide gankers entered my mind. The thought of destroying something for the sake of destroying something. Hilarity ensued.
It was funny. What was wrong entered my mind. I don't want to mine and PVE, I want to destroy. That dream was a lie. Specifically to destroy the weak and the helpless. The miners and the mission runners. I want to bring empires to their knees. I want their blood. Their blood instantaneously evaporating as pressure in their capsule approaches 0 in milliseconds. I want to charge into battle with all hell breaking loose. Yes, 'hell', that is the word. I want hell to be unleashed upon New Eden.
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Tired of mining? Has staring at roids turned you into a mad man? Now have the thrist for blood? If the answer to these questions is 'yes', Moral Judgement as Abuse (MJAA) is the corporation for you! MJAA is devoted to statisfying your inner sadist by engaging in the following activities:
Faction Warfare - Amarr Empire
Small gang PVP
Killboard is irrelevant
New players welcome
Apply today!
Australians welcome.
Public Channel: MJAA
