Mar 25, 2008

More Dancing, More Death

Last night started with dancing at the space station home of Willa, in orbit some 4000 m above the earth. Along with Mony, MTD, and Sardonicus, I strutted my funky stuff and engaged in some dances that were more reminiscent of the catwalk than a spacewalk. Still, once you're shaking your groove thing with a bunch of buddies, who cares if you're dancing like a female stripper, right?

Perversely, being in high places always gets me thinking of jumping. Call it a Death Wish, call is simple craziness, but Willa's space station was practically begging me to use it for another trip on the Suicide Express. And Sardonicus was happy to assist!

It turns out that Sardo has been working on a small, rideable spaceship that was currently still in beta test. For "beta test" read "could go in any direction at any time and explode into a million shiny sparks of hot fire." Sounded good to me. And hey, I'd never tried my hand at being a test pilot, so...

I flew to the top of the space station and rezzed the flyer. Yes, you can still breathe in space and no, you don't explode in the zero atmosphere. Shame really - another interesting suicide.

Right click. Fly.

In less time than it takes to hit the PAGE DOWN button, I was hurtling towards earth in a spiral of death. In truth, the "spiral" required me to use the arrow keys as controllers... but you get what I mean. I was able to watch the height figures tumble at the top of my screen, trying to work out just how long I had to live.

As I entered through the clouds I could see a shoreline: I was either going to hit ground or hit ocean. Splat or splash. Remember that in Real Life, flying is actually very easy - it's not hitting the ground that's tricky.

Seconds to go and the altimeter read 25 m. And I stopped! Some damned safety control had kicked in so that I could have a safe landing. But that's precisely what I didn't want! I wanted to end up as a smear of red and white across several square meters of sandbox. Tragically that dramatic demise was wrenched from my suicidal grasp.

Death, where is thy sting.

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