A roused and gentler giant

It's been a while, hasn't it, hoppers?

Yeah, I know -- that sort of tone isn't what you came to expect and love from Miss Emily "Orthogonal" Watson, the straight-burning fire of the Crescent circuit. She, who never paused for introspection, to wax on theory, or to so much as do any of her 'opponents' the service of looking them in the eye ... now posting introspectively on a blog that used to be nothing but an arena for mud-slinging?

Well, times have changed, hoppers. It's been years since my retirement, and the sort of bullshit that festered on this little slice of the Internet had far too generous an allotment as-it-was. That's all deleted now. I won't be restoring it. If you want inflammatory rhetoric, there's an entire generation of hoppers I inspired that will gladly spew it for you. This is the first page of a new novel; this is Orthogonal turning over a new stone and a new leaf, and the only person I won't be capitulating to as a matter-of-fact are my own hotheaded fans.

I love you!, I do. I love the time we had together, and the success you bought me, but ... something bigger is at stake here. Every hero and heroine's earned her swan song by virtue of turning heroic to start, and you won't take mine from me, oh no! So, ... let us enter that. Let's discuss the lay of the land.

It's an exhibition toss. The organizer is a no-name, but his two sitting judges are rather famous names. Senjutsu, of the Iron Officiators, more infamous than famous for his legacy of demerits; and Time Loop Gim, "The Motherfucker," whose career ended when his exploitations caused the collapse of the circuit and the ushering in of the fourth edition rules revamp. His career as a judge since then has been fairly lackluster, but it's still a name that inspires pause.

I'm not hiding my identity on this one, not that I could. There's a lot of hot-shot youngsters, as well as old faces (The Lady Elldren, the Dark Horse of Blackhorse Road) who would love to make a name for themselves by putting a dent in the front-runner. You know what? They probably have a better chance than ever, seeing as how I don't really have the fight in me any longer.

No, no, I don't. That fire's burnt out, if you can't tell already. I'm in this to make reparations, and I'm going to do it the only way I know how -- by blazing a trail through the tubes of our beloved London, and maybe even beyond. This is an exhibition bout, after all; there's no telling how far our travels will take us.

It's disquieting, honestly. I'm afraid to see how I'll perform. I never went into Crescent wanting to be the best -- I entered the field already standing atop it. I'm afraid that, even now, when I'd willingly throw the towel in if asked, I'll prove an insurmountable combatant. I'm afraid of proving -- finally and incontrovertibly -- that something really does set me apart, something really does make Miss Emily "Orthogonal" Watson the best of the best.

It's a scary thought. You can't lie about that. Not only would it prove all of my victory was more the result of deterministic happenstance in my 'creation' than effort on my part, ... it would prove, well, that that's what I was made for: to play Mornington Crescent.

I'm playing this exhibition match because I want to prove that I can do things other than play this game. I'm playing to prove to myself that there's more to who I am than a winding path through the dark.

If you still want to follow my performance, I welcome you to -- there'll be plenty of introspection and waxing on theory, this time. This is the last time: this is where I'll be making heads or tails of everything, and singing my swan song, and making as clean a break as I can muster. I'm going to learn not just about Crescent, this time, but about myself, all of you, and the rest of this mixed-up world that let a girl with the fire in her eyes become an international celebrity on the back of some tube stations' names.

Let's make it a good show. I'm going to show you all tricks that put even my own legacy to shame. Grab ahold of that safety rail, fans -- we're going to need it, you and I alike!