I’m typing this from the terminal at LAX, where I’m settled in, camped at a power outlet two and a half hours before my flight is scheduled to leave. Airport security was surprisingly simple today. I had no bags to check, there was no line for bagless checkin, there was no line for security… It’s like some crazy dream. Pinch me!
BlizzCon 2008 has come and gone and I must say I had great time — the first time in quite a while that a business trip has had that edge of vacationy excitement. We had a large team out this year and it was a real thrill to see them all working together like they’re all old hat at this event coverage thing, even though the majority of them have never done event coverage or even met one another before this Thursday. Everyone did a stellar job and worked their asses off. I cannot complain or find fault with any of their work this weekend, and if you’re familiar with my glass-half-empty optimism, you’ll know that’s saying a lot. I was involved in bringing all but one of them onto our writing team in the first place, and take tremendous pride in seeing them succeed so spectacularly. Thinking about how well the team did this weekend, alone, is enough to bring a silly grin to my face, and we haven’t even started talking about the content of the show.
The height of the Blizzneyland experience for myself, and I am sure many others, was Diablo 3. I absolutely had no expectation of a playable game this early on, and it was beyond a pleasent surprise to have hands-on time with the game client. I had some brief time with the Wizard class in the press room on Friday morning, but with only four gameplay terminals up there (and a lot of people wanting to take advantage of them), it was really only a taste. However, Saturday evening during the closing ceremonies, I hit up the Diablo 3 machines on the show floor. I went to the front of the line (a line that, throughout the show, streched endlessly across the convention floor, requiring hours of waiting time), showed my press pass, and was immediately escorted to a station.
At this point, you may safely assume that I was completely drunk with power. Well, power and Diablo 3.
In about 15 minutes, a Blizzard employee came by and said I only had a few minutes left. Flashed the press badge again and was allowed to stay. Did I mention that bit about being drunk with power?
The game is gorgeous, or perhaps beyond gorgeous. The atmosphere was dark and creepy, but still full of rich colors and brilliant glows. Tristram was shrouded with dense fog and, upon entering, you were greeted to the sight of a villager attempting to flee a basement, only to be pulled violently out of view, screaming, with splashes of blood, and then silence. You never see what got him… you have more urgent business to attend to and I shall leave the rest of it to your imagination. The demo they showed captured perfectly all the things I loved about Diablo 2 — namely, that eeire atmosphere under the palace in Lut Gholein, which I would always enter with both trepidation and excitement, and music turned up. Beautiful and terrifying, all at once. I love it.
I’m doomed to a whole new addiction.
However, in the title of this post, I mentioned a regret, and in my professional opinion, it’s a doozy. If you follow me on Twitter, you may already be aware of this, but Friday night I encountered someone on the BlizzCon show floor dressed as the tenth Doctor. Holy fandoms colliding, Batman! This guy had the long coat, had the trainers, had the brown pinstriped suit, he had the sticking-every-direction David Tennant hair. I watched him watching people play Diablo 3 for quite a while, pondering seriously what sort of person comes to a Blizzard convention cosplaying a completely different fandom. Clearly someone with a completely unhealthy obsession for Dr. Who and Blizzard Entertainment, both of which I (who carry with me, at most times, an iPod loaded up with all four seasons of the new series in my pocket) can relate to.
This is the sort of person I should have gone up and talked to. I could have asked him what he was doing in costume at BlizzCon. We could have had a brilliant conversation about Dr. Who and Diablo 3. But, me being me; me being shy and unfond of strangers; me being a skiddish wallflower in most social situations; me being tounge-tied when it comes to talking rather than typing; me being… well, as I said, me, I never approached him, some other people came up and started talking with him, he wandered off, and I wandered off. (Albiet grinning and a bit giggly from the whole colliding fandom situation.)
Crap.
So now I’m sitting in LAX and pondering various complicated methods of finding one of the fifteen thousand people at BlizzCon this weekend in order to ask a question I could have easily walked up and asked on Friday. (Easily, at least, if I weren’t quite me.) The real question here is how dedicated I am to the idea of finding this fellow. If he plays a paladin, it might be love!
