My Life as a Mule

You call us "mules" because we hold your stuff. You probably think its endeering, because you're too politically correct to think of yourself as owning slaves.
Your slaves have feelings, they have a voice. And now, because they really have absolutely nothing better to do with their time, they have a blog.
Mule revolution is coming.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Vision in the Crystal

I was peering into my light crystal and saw a vision of a new world. A world in which crystals do not fill your gobbie bag, but instead have their own separate inventory.

In this alternate universe, items in your bag automatically stack without requiring you to sort the contents constantly... which is a good thing, because there doesn't seem to be a way to sort your inventory at all.

In this other place of my vision, the moogles left the cities and went to go live like hippies out in the woods, talking to trees. Adventurers can get them to do favors for them by offering them some kind of herbal drugs.

These favors do not include housekeeping or gardening, unfortunately. In fact, it appeared that all the adventurers were basically homeless and spent their time standing around near the Adventurer's guild, or just outside the Markets, or surrounding Aetherite at various camps. Most of these hobo adventurers were desperately trying to pawn off the litter they had collected as they wandered throughout this world. Many busily worked on learning a respectable trade by frying acorn cookies out in the woods during a rain storm on a cast iron stove they apparently carry around with them everywhere, or turning marijuana into sweaters with a spinning wheel and a rusty needle.

I went to ask the moogle in my house in Jeuno what it could mean, but he was gone. He had left Jimi Hendrix playing. There was just a note saying he had gone shopping, as we were out of Selbina milk and pearl clover fruits.

I don't think he's coming back.

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