WARNING, WARNING, RANT IN PROGRESS!

“See, even the snake on the left thinks I look good.”

When you leave for work in the morning to your respective place of business, flustered and forlorn after the previous evenings exhausting nocturnal relations, if you know what I mean *wink wink*–all night Lord of the Rings, cinematic session of course. But as you hastily attempt to retain your frivolously, discarded decorum after your hurried reprisal of lost time, you glimpse at your distorted reflection in the mirror. Regretfully you stare at this vaguely recognisable doppelgänger staring back at you, and in wistful consciousness you observe your dishevelled visage with speculative curiosity and ponder whether you could adjust the narrowed proximity of your eyes for a more favourable, aesthetically pleasing image as well as contemplating an adjustment to the irregular, elongation of your nose that protrudes as though you’ve solicited a variety of deceitful statements. There’s a lustre for sudden, retrospective enthusiasm for your prior lack of spacial awareness in respects to the final positioning of your brows placement in its current obscured vicinity. These are the things we think about, right? No of course you don’t, so why do games assume I care about such trivialities!?

My complicity in every facet of a simulated characters induction in terms of appearance, has always been disregarded for prompt, continuation of the narrative. I’m not someone who poses the required patience to meticulously manipulate every aspect of a characters nostrils so that it resembles their own, flaring or otherwise. It’s completely contradictory to my preferred style of integration. For instance, when I play a game such as Dragons Dogma I want to adopt a persona of aristocracy, of confident though humble nobility, similar to that of Tyrian Lannister–though not as vertically restricted, punctuated by my own gestured superiority of grace and self-assured malevolence as though my mere existence in an enemies presence is enough to vanquish any foe. I want to enter a new town, sipping my metaphorical brandy that’s clutched delicate in my palm, swirling majestically like a metronome in my dexterous, though protective finger tips, inciting townspeople to gasp in revered admiration at my heroic accomplishments as I choose to frequent their quaint establishments for nourishment. But there is little consideration for the purity of my ebony infused follicles when your deftly crafted double and intricately manipulated facial extremities, are obscured by third and first person perspective, or faced with the regenerating abilities of venomous serpent, whose severed appendage is jovially coercing you to seek shelter–which remarkably resembles a Benny Hill sketch, sadly minus the generic musical accompaniment.

“I don’t have time to make this ensemble work honey!” *clicks fingers*

My negligent disposition does not retain the vision to see the relevance and affinity for the aesthetic accuracy of your simulated creation. When you purchase a new game, you wait diligently for the system updates to install, nervously anticipating the beautifully maintained vista that urges you to proceed, only to then exhaust hours adjusting the position of your voluptuously endowed lips?! Such a clustered endowment of customisation options is significantly wasted on my flippant agitation at being halted by such frivolities, when I could instead be hanging precariously from crest of Chimera’s mane or scoring the winning goal that preserves the placement of your respective team from the tyranny of relegation. I understand that many individuals don’t condemn such inclusions with such intrusive disdain, and that I lack the astute rapport for the delicate, textural alignment of an avatars shoes. This is a mandatory crutch that attempts to instil a twisted sense of purpose to your advancement, but leaves me crippled and bored by the monotony of such a diverting distraction. Rant subsided….for now?

Am I the only one….