This isn’t a vault job. I don’t have to scale the fortress walls or suspend myself from the ceiling. I simply stroll into the computer lab.
There is no other way to put this: Clock Tower is a stupid game.
When I raise my head, everything around me looks different. The bar is darker, the faces of my friends are unsmiling. And I’ve made the decision to see what it is about Grindr that keeps everyone so stuck to their phones.
The hippies hoot and holler, dance barefoot around the flames, and generally enjoy themselves. We’re standing on the outskirts, drinking cans of PBR. Wes is littering.
In the morning, I will start fresh. A fresh cup of coffee. A fresh set of emotions. But my hands will still be swollen.
These new heroes would live forever in the post-launch Azeroth, eventually becoming binary representations of the hopes and dreams of thirteen million mortal human beings.
Quiet, conservative Lily chose to read aloud the phrase, "delicious arsehole" in reference to an innocent English child actor.
Tell your story.