Meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, February 7, 2008.

Hello. Is it possible to ask one question here :) ? Thank you.

Why is our charismatic one such a secretive person? Not only does he hide his age, and the name of this gentleman can only be learned from his relatives...:p :D, but his face always remains off-camera! After all, the man is great, and great people simply must be known...! So, what's the deal?

Ley, I'm guessing myself... Either he's afraid that fans will track him down and cover his entire entryway with declarations of love and original portraits of Qwerty in the most unexpected angles, or he's simply hiding from the criminal investigation department for a series of particularly brutal murders.

Added after 5 minutes
Anyway, we continue.
With Vitalic's arrival, the conversation became even more lively. The discussion of heroes smoothly transitioned into an analysis of the strategic subtleties of playing Disciples; plans for world domination, each more brilliant than the last, surfaced in beer and drowned in mulled wine, but overall we behaved well – in any case, Vitalic and I were given gifts (he got the Heroes Platinum from Buka, I got the New Year's edition of Heroes (Platinum + 4).

Qwerty: "I only ever played as Good in Disciples; my processor is Lawful Good – if I even try to play as Undead, my video card will burn out, I swear." Vitalic: "Oh boy, where have I come... what are they even talking about?!"


"Don't take me with a photo-gun, I'm only just starting to live – I'm retiring..."


A couple of hours flew by like a single minute, and soon a frighteningly sturdy man joined us, looking like a Barbarian. Glancing menacingly around, clearing a flock of my handbags and packets off the last free chair, and greeting us with a spirited whistle (or was it a barbarian's battle cry?..), he rushed off in two leaps to plunder the buffet. This, of course, was Vigo. After consuming three or four kilograms of meat, he softened and even began to speak humanly. True, at first he could only manage two phrases: "What is your name?" and "How old are you?", and due to some sad misunderstanding, he kept addressing these questions specifically to me. But then a waiter brought him some mysterious transparent potion on ice, after a sip of which our barbarian began to change right before our eyes – he cheered up, grew kinder, and became surprisingly sweet and talkative.
In short, he wasn't a real barbarian, just a man tired after work.

Vigo: "No, not at all, I stopped eating human meat a long time ago! A young lamb is much more tender!" Slonysh: "How nice that I'm so tasteless..."


Vigo: "When I'm full, I'm just a teddy bear, honest to God!"


Qwerty: "Wow, look at Vitalic's legs..."


Things got more cheerful. Toasts rang out:
-To the dendroids!
-To the upgraded dendroids!
It couldn't be any other way – we were gathered at "Drova" (Firewood), after all.
From forum questions and general hero questions, we moved to life and philosophical questions, for example – should children be beaten? And if so, how is it best – so that no marks remain, or so that they remember nothing? Or is there still nothing better than good old "dark" methods? We became quite emotional, realizing the rare courage of our children, so the subsequent toasts sounded as follows:
-To the children!
-To the upgraded children!

Vitalic and a table with the remains of alchemical experiments.


Alas, the evening was not going to continue indefinitely. Around eleven o'clock, we finally found the strength to leave the hospitable establishment and set our feet toward the metro. On the way, our glorious Vigo skillfully applied the "battle cry" ability, paralyzing a lone passerby to a near-infarct state, and politely but firmly suggested that he take a photo of the four of us as a farewell.

Qwerty: "Harpies are flying so low... it's going to rain."


Slonysh: "Damn it, it's already raining!" Qwerty: "Mda... true... then what was that for?.."


Vitalic: "What a woman... a goddess... a feminine!" Slonysh: "Ua-ha-ha!" Qwerty: "What was that for?!"

We spent the rest of the way to the metro in futile attempts to solve Vitalic's riddle: whose monument stands at the beginning of Chistoprudny Boulevard? In the end, it turned out that Vitalic himself thought it was Turgenev, and therefore awarded me the victory for this incorrect answer. Alas, it turned out to be Griboyedov. After examining the monument with judgment, we finally dove into the metro.
Actually, writing a couple more pages about who got off at which line and how I didn't miss the last bus doesn't seem expedient, so I'm ending the report. Thanks to the guys, it was very fun.