Lt. Boxy Angelman
I WILL EAT THIS GAME
(DISCLAIMER: Long, delusional Boxy story ahead. Grab a snack and a beer.)
So it's been a long last few months riding the Injustice choo-choo train.
And an even longer time since I made one of these "Holy shit, THIS CHARACTER <3" threads.
I feel like I've come a long way since Day 1.
I've fired more Low Shots and MB Nova'ed to death more online warriors and unsuspecting victims than I can remember...
I've kneeled before the King AND the Kryptonian, I've pet the pretty kitty, I learned to wield a bow...
I felt the power of both the Green and the Yellow Rings and felt the pain of Hanzo's Fall...
I've thrown my bats and felt the surge of Low Lightning, I've felt venom coarse through my veins and wondered when "they" would ever learn...and yes, I've F23'ed in the dark of night where none could see.
But I still found myself in the same boat in which I floated with Cyrax and Sub-Zero.
No matter who I learned, what I discovered, how happy I was when I realized I FINALLY have a decent grasp on back-to-block defenses and pushblocking...something has been missing.
And for the last month, I was absolutely certain it was Yellow Lantern. As an Ermac player, he's been a more comfortable fit than the perfect pair of pants.
Then not long ago, I took a listen to the last Kryptonite Council, and...it struck a chord. Hearing Piggy, Reo and Bit going on about how reinvigorated and refueled they were having finally found the characters that made the WANT to truly commit and lay waste to the competition, how happy they were finally being able to put the character crises of the past behind them, it made me think quite a bit more than I expected.
I've been missing something. Something more than simply being able to max damage with Lantern, or fill the screen with Slade's bullets, or maul people to death like a pack of direwolves with Doomsday...I haven't been challenging myself enough.
Even though I LOVE my three musketeers dearly (I've mained DoomStroke since the day I bought the game, and Hal got smoked into rotation a month and change ago and hasn't budged since because GATLING GUNS ARE FUCKING AWESOME), but I hit that point with all of them that...I don't mean to make them sound over-simplified, because if they were, I'd be winning a LOT more, but I felt like once I figured out the basics of where I needed to put my bullets, venom and might, the rest was pretty much just a matter of math.
And I hate math.
I love battle. Furious battle.
Guessing my way out of certain death, breaking my opponents' spirits and minds when I fight my way through their suaree of psychosis and bury them in the ground.
I greatly enjoy winning, but I especially love the feeling of grasping my victory from the jaws of certain death. Of knowing I truly paid the iron price for my conquests.
And then I came upon Wednesday Night Fights.
And a glorious gem of sets fought by none other than the mighty Tyrant, whose pimp hand is one of the strongest in all the land. And I love his hat.
And remembered suddenly all of the epic, bloodthirsty fights I've had with one of my favorite sparring partners in the land, a Mr. Solomon Gruffy, who plays a disgusting zombie.
And how I always regretted always having to fall back on the Lin Kuei in MK9 because I'd shown up to the party too late to feel I'd ever become as fully capable with Kabal or Skarlet or any of the other high maintenance characters as those who'd come before me...
...And then I knew what had to be done.
I went to the lab.
I learned my Pain Chains. Copied the Combo Guide notation for notation.
Learned what links to my grabs and what doesn't.
Figured out the trick of WCC'ing into Cleavers and Chains.
Cut my bad habit of YOLO Walking Corpses at the knees.
Started screaming every time I Clash.
It's been 3 days, and I don't think I've been this genuinely excited for anything Injustice-related since I longed to corrupt Arkham City Catwoman.
I've put on the Boss Grundy hat, ladies and gentlemen.
Other than Doomsday, I ultimately want him to be my top dead dogs of all dead dogs.
I'm tired of zoning every other step I take. I want to take my bare hands and toss some fuckers into the sky by their heads, and drown the nonbelievers in swamp water.
Guide my hands, fellow Corpses. I want to master the art of being dead.
So it's been a long last few months riding the Injustice choo-choo train.
And an even longer time since I made one of these "Holy shit, THIS CHARACTER <3" threads.
I feel like I've come a long way since Day 1.
I've fired more Low Shots and MB Nova'ed to death more online warriors and unsuspecting victims than I can remember...
I've kneeled before the King AND the Kryptonian, I've pet the pretty kitty, I learned to wield a bow...
I felt the power of both the Green and the Yellow Rings and felt the pain of Hanzo's Fall...
I've thrown my bats and felt the surge of Low Lightning, I've felt venom coarse through my veins and wondered when "they" would ever learn...and yes, I've F23'ed in the dark of night where none could see.
But I still found myself in the same boat in which I floated with Cyrax and Sub-Zero.
No matter who I learned, what I discovered, how happy I was when I realized I FINALLY have a decent grasp on back-to-block defenses and pushblocking...something has been missing.
And for the last month, I was absolutely certain it was Yellow Lantern. As an Ermac player, he's been a more comfortable fit than the perfect pair of pants.
Then not long ago, I took a listen to the last Kryptonite Council, and...it struck a chord. Hearing Piggy, Reo and Bit going on about how reinvigorated and refueled they were having finally found the characters that made the WANT to truly commit and lay waste to the competition, how happy they were finally being able to put the character crises of the past behind them, it made me think quite a bit more than I expected.
I've been missing something. Something more than simply being able to max damage with Lantern, or fill the screen with Slade's bullets, or maul people to death like a pack of direwolves with Doomsday...I haven't been challenging myself enough.
Even though I LOVE my three musketeers dearly (I've mained DoomStroke since the day I bought the game, and Hal got smoked into rotation a month and change ago and hasn't budged since because GATLING GUNS ARE FUCKING AWESOME), but I hit that point with all of them that...I don't mean to make them sound over-simplified, because if they were, I'd be winning a LOT more, but I felt like once I figured out the basics of where I needed to put my bullets, venom and might, the rest was pretty much just a matter of math.
And I hate math.
I love battle. Furious battle.
Guessing my way out of certain death, breaking my opponents' spirits and minds when I fight my way through their suaree of psychosis and bury them in the ground.
I greatly enjoy winning, but I especially love the feeling of grasping my victory from the jaws of certain death. Of knowing I truly paid the iron price for my conquests.
And then I came upon Wednesday Night Fights.
And a glorious gem of sets fought by none other than the mighty Tyrant, whose pimp hand is one of the strongest in all the land. And I love his hat.
And remembered suddenly all of the epic, bloodthirsty fights I've had with one of my favorite sparring partners in the land, a Mr. Solomon Gruffy, who plays a disgusting zombie.
And how I always regretted always having to fall back on the Lin Kuei in MK9 because I'd shown up to the party too late to feel I'd ever become as fully capable with Kabal or Skarlet or any of the other high maintenance characters as those who'd come before me...
...And then I knew what had to be done.
I went to the lab.
I learned my Pain Chains. Copied the Combo Guide notation for notation.
Learned what links to my grabs and what doesn't.
Figured out the trick of WCC'ing into Cleavers and Chains.
Cut my bad habit of YOLO Walking Corpses at the knees.
Started screaming every time I Clash.
It's been 3 days, and I don't think I've been this genuinely excited for anything Injustice-related since I longed to corrupt Arkham City Catwoman.
I've put on the Boss Grundy hat, ladies and gentlemen.
Other than Doomsday, I ultimately want him to be my top dead dogs of all dead dogs.
I'm tired of zoning every other step I take. I want to take my bare hands and toss some fuckers into the sky by their heads, and drown the nonbelievers in swamp water.
Guide my hands, fellow Corpses. I want to master the art of being dead.
