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The Unknown Players: a requiem for my unused Dota 2 beta invitations


Alas poor invites stood dead and dying

I never did find you homes, homes

Your anthems of MEGA KILL and TRIPLE KILL

Were never heard

Your triumphs and failures never transmitted

Vessels of hours of curious error; biting frustration

You are little cogs never inserted into the machine

My heart

My heart aches for you, little cogs

Unused and never given

Your virtual value like endless grooms on altars never married

You lie there; rows upon rows of my own failures

Symbols of people who could have played but never did

The failure is mine, little keys

Dota 2 is a vortex, and I am afraid of your power

My Steam friend list is inadequate to purpose:

I tried to find you places, but they heard about All Chat

Before the ban system

They never wanted you

They were afraid of the ‘uninstall’: the looming ‘uninstall’ request

The unspoken ‘uninstall’ of teammates

You stare.

All lined up

In my Steam inventory

Rows and rows and row and rows

Deep set in grey-black

Your little red logos inset on headstones

The Unknown Players

And not long before you disappear: forever

Never having fulfilled your duty

You will never bring someone joy

Or crushing defeat

You will never teach anyone their Terrasque recipe

Or bring together voices in a lobby for long nights, short mornings

You are finished now.

You are finished, little cogs.

You are free.

Dota 2 is free.