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#I've been highly amused watching discussion of this event
boss-poss · 1 month
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My take on the whole HD2 psn account scandal is that it sucks and it should have been expected but I really want to highlight just how far under the bus sony is throwing the devs with this:
-Announcement came out yesterday, meaning that the brunt of the (assuredly) expected blowback occurs over a weekend when most of the players don't have anything better to do and the news has reached most of them. Arrowhead takes the heat and eventually anger simmers down when monday rolls around and people get back to work and such. No skin off sony's back.
-Arrowhead community managers are already known to be blunt and dismissive compared to other games making them, and arrowhead by extension, seem the easy target as they deal with complaints. AH says they're already chasing sony about related issues but the chance of the big S giving anything more than an empty promise (if even that) is remote.
-HD2 has a large community, and as with any game playerbase, it's filled with reactionary idiots and trolls. The principle of the thing (giving sony your leash), not to mention the hassle or regional issues that could come with creating a psn account, is enough to whip people into a frenzy. There was no way this was expected to go over well.
-The requirement for a psn account was always noted but was waived for a couple of months, more than enough time for people to get invested and buy premium currency, not to mention the game becoming a landmark title among a sea of trash. That's more than enough time to forget a stipulation like that. Can't have people refunding to show their displeasure!
-A warbond was announced right before the psn mandate so whether that was to try and cushion the blow or just unfortunate timing or a mandate from higher up it makes AH look like they prioritize selling you stuff over player enjoyment, adding fuel to the fire.
-A lack of polish in certain areas of the game and rampant balance issues that cause players and the devs to butt heads have been ongoing issues since launch. Clearly, AH is having a time keeping their vision and player enjoyment balanced which has already created a fairly deep divide. The psn requirement is pretty much taking a hammer to a widening crack and will (whether intentionally or not) bring more heat towards the developers.
-PSN is famously bad at security and ultimately pointless off of their consoles, with numerous huge data breaches and accounts offering little more to players than a way for you to give your information so sony can sell it. That seems to me to be the main motive here, alongside cementing the notion of HD2 as a playstation exclusive (sorry xbox players but I don't think you'll be getting this game anytime soon). A live service game that isn't squeezing every last penny out of its players at every opportunity is ultimately financially inefficient and I'm sure some sony people are kept up at night by that fact.
-The biggest fuck you I've seen though is that the game is sold on steam in countries sony doesn't support, meaning that you could have bought and played the game already and then now be barred from playing it a few months later (can't have those pesky, preemptive refunds). Also, VPNs are against sony terms of service, so yeah... any burner accounts could get you banned and be a huge hassle.
I can't conclusively say that sony set up arrowhead as the patsy while they try to collect all that sweet, succulent, valuable, personal data but I don't believe this was an accident either. Corporations are far from stupid and fortunately for them and unfortunately for consumers, a significant portion of us are pretty easy to lead by the nose to certain conclusions. They know this and many facets of business work along those lines. Outrage is profitable and brings attention, if you're not the one in the direct line of fire.
I feel bad for the devs and I doubt much will come of this besides a temporary drop in players and maybe some sort of optional linking concession if things get dire enough, but I doubt the game will fail. Arrowhead aren't the devil but they did sign on his dotted line and sometimes the cost of success is getting told you'll bending over and taking it for someone else. Seems to be the case here to me at least.
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bumbershots · 3 years
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A CERTAIN ROMANCE
CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?
Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...
Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **
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Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.
"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.
"Yes please."
He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.
He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.
"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.
"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.
"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.
"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."
"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.
It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.
"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.
It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.
Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.
"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.
"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.
Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.
Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.
"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.
"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."
After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.
As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.
"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.
"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.
"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.
Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.
"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.
"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.
"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.
He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.
The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.
He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.
Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.
His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.
"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."
"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.
"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—
"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.
"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."
"What?" Harry is mortified.
"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.
Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?
Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.
He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.
Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.
There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.
Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.
He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.
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