1787: Eternal Bond

I’m pleased to report that today went somewhat better than yesterday. I feel like I’m still shaking off the aftereffects of the stomach bug I’ve had, but things aren’t quite as bad as they have been, which is nice. I also bought some new headphones (which I promptly forgot to take with me today) and got a new ID card lanyard, which was also nice.

Andie and I got engaged, too.

Hah! That made you look twice, huh. We didn’t really. Well, we sort of did, though not in the traditional sense. Instead, taking full advantage of the new Final Fantasy XIV patch which came out today, we both signed up for the new Eternal Bond ceremony: Eorzea’s take on marriage, with no restrictions on the genders or races of the two people involved. We didn’t actually get “married” in-game today; doing so is more than a simple throwaway thing to do when you feel like it. Instead, it involves a number of different steps, none of which are difficult, but which do demand you demonstrate a certain amount of willingness to help each other out as a couple, which is nice.

First up you have to acquire “Promise Wristlets” by signing up for the ceremony on the game’s website. There are three tiers of ceremony, ranging from the free one (where there’s only limited customisation of the ceremony available) to Platinum tier (where you have the most possible customisation options, a prettier dress and free gifts to offer your guests). Gold and Platinum weddings cost real money, though not very much, and because Andie and I are both idiots, we went for the Platinum ceremony.

After making our intentions clear and being issued with our respective pretty dresses, we were informed that we’d need to prepare our own wedding rings. We worked together to acquire the materials necessary to do so — thankfully the ring itself isn’t difficult to create — and soon enough we were ready to begin our preparations in earnest.

What followed was an enjoyable if straightforward “pilgrimage” quest where we had to visit all the main regions of Eorzea together, find the symbols of the Twelve — the gods of the lands — and pray before them. In doing so, we blessed our respective wedding rings with divine power, ready for the ceremony. We then had the opportunity to talk over what kind of ceremony we wanted and given the ability to customise the chapel to our liking. We had to actually agree on what we wanted, too, otherwise when the big day comes the officials simply pick one of your options and run with it.

That’s all we could do for now; bookings for the actual ceremony — yes, you have to actually book — open on Friday, so we’re going to have to get in when we can and find a suitable time and place to get virtually hitched and invite our virtual friends to come and watch and cheer us on. I’m actually very curious to see how the whole thing goes down; I know a number of massively multiplayer online games in the past have had the ability to get married in them, but I’ve never been in a position where I was actually able to get married to someone, whether “seriously” as Andie and I are doing so, or just to see how it worked with a friend. (I’m a bit of a traditionalist, though; while a virtual marriage isn’t legally binding, of course, I do actually kind of believe it has a certain degree of meaning, and as such I’m glad to be able to do it with Andie; it wouldn’t have felt right even just “trying it out” with anyone else if, say, she wasn’t playing.)

I tell you what, though, even with all the charging past hordes of kobolds on chocoboback on the way to find another pilgrimage stone, getting virtually married is nowhere near as stressful as arranging the real thing!

#oneaday Day 918: We Dig, Dig, Dig, Dig…

Yes, I’ve been playing Minecraft again, thanks largely to several members of the Squadron of Shame finally biting the bullet and jumping on the bandwagon. And, once again, I am rediscovering the sheer joy of that game.

The first time I played Minecraft I wasn’t overly enamoured with it. Not because of the deliberately lo-fi graphics — on the contrary, I found them highly endearing — but because I had literally no idea what I was supposed to do, and at the time I started playing, it was largely up to the player to either work things out for themselves or refer to a wiki. Nowadays, of course, there are achievements to guide your early days in the game and basic techniques are practically common knowledge — the Xbox version also removes the need to remember the specific “patterns” to craft tools altogether, making it even more accessible and a great jumping-on point for those who have no idea what Minecraft is all about.

After spending a hefty proportion of time in Minecraft’s many pixelated, blocky worlds, however, that sense of “what on Earth do I do now?” is, as it turns out, precisely what appeals to me about the game. I have no goals aside from the ones I set for myself. There is no “end” to the game aside from the time when I wish to stop playing. (Well, technically that’s not quite true — you can “finish” Minecraft through a long and convoluted process culminating in a difficult boss battle against a giant evil dragon thing. But you can carry on playing after that.) The world is different each time I start a new game. And therein lies Minecraft’s biggest joy.

Minecraft is like being a kid again, assuming you were a kid who never had to get home in time for dinner, and a kid who was trusted with various sharp implements. Minecraft taps into that youthful desire to explore, to discover, to see what’s over that next hill, around that corner, on the other side of that sheer rock face. It taps into that youthful fear of being lost in the middle of nowhere and having no idea of how you’re going to get back home. And, like those youthful expeditions into forests and caves, it’s much more fun with friends.

Minecraft is what you make of it. I currently play on two multiplayer servers — one with a small group of “real-life” friends and the other with a group of people I primarily know online — the aforementioned Squadron of Shame. The differing approaches we take on each server are very interesting, and represent two very different social dynamics.

On my “real-life friends” server, everyone quickly staked their claim to their “territory” and built something big and impressive there to mark it. Tim built a huge castle; James built a wizard’s tower and network of connected walkways with giant mushrooms (plus a huge tree made of trees); Andie built some quaint (and practical) little houses; and I built a large, experimental pyramid-like structure and enormous, intricately-carved bridge.

On the Squadron of Shame server, meanwhile, things were a lot more cooperative from the get-go. I was one of the first people on the server, so I took the time to establish a basic base camp — wooden hut with crafting table and furnace, sufficient to last the night. Over time, and with the assistance of others, this hut expanded with an extra room containing beds, and a large mine beneath it. Other structures sprang up nearby until our improvised “base camp” started to look like a small village. I built roads in every direction as I explored, and others followed suit to help us find our way to various impressive landmarks. When we found a cool piece of randomly-generated scenery, we talked about it as if it was a real place. Other “citadels” sprang up around the map, and we as a group went further and further afield. I constructed some kick-ass bridges.

In both cases, the world feels alive — because it is alive. It’s constantly growing and changing according to how far people have explored and what they have built. It’s an immensely satisfying experience to know that you’ve played a part in the shaping of a virtual world, whatever your contribution and whatever your particular skill sets might be. In many ways, it’s similar to the satisfaction of playing an active role in something like Second Life, which I’ve been known to spend time in in the past, and which I once referred to as “taking a walk through other peoples’ imaginations”. The key difference here, though, is that Minecraft has a great deal more immediacy than Second Life — and considerably fewer prostitutes.

So if you’ve been holding off on playing Minecraft, I suggest you give it a shot — preferably with friends. If you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for, fire up the Xbox version and play online or in split-screen. When you’re ready, grab a copy of the full experience on PC and prepare yourself for the most immersive game world you’ll ever experience — the one you helped create.

Avatar Integration and Feeling the Burn

In my last post, I discussed the virtual world of Second Life. This is something that, as you probably noticed, is of particular interest to me – and I’m not the only one. Jenn Frank posted entries about the issue of avatars and personal identity at some length here and here – two articles on which I also commented at some length – and this led onto an interesting discussion of whether avatars were a reflection of your real-life personality or a fantastical creation from the depths of your own mind.

There are no particular conclusions to draw on this issue, as everyone’s different. Just because someone enjoys being tied up and sodomized in Second Life (not me, I might add) doesn’t necessarily mean that they will in real life. Just because a guy plays a woman (also not me, though I have been known on more than one occasion to play female characters in games), it doesn’t mean that they want a sex change. An avatar doesn’t have to look anything like the real-life human behind the controls, but sometimes it does.

My avatar, until recently, looked like me, sort of, a bit. A slightly-idealised version of me, if you will, if I were slightly cooler, less fat and able to pull off black leather jackets and red hair. This all changed the other night, however, when a friend that I had previously only had passing contact with on photo exchange site Flickr decided that tonight would be the night we would meet in-world. Said friend is an active Second Life photographer, fond of, as I am, grabbing groups of good-looking avatars, snapping some pictures of them and then Photoshopping the hell out of them in order to produce some pretty pics. I have something of a liking for this process myself, so here’s a picture of aforementioned friend following aforementioned Photoshop mangling:

Morgana(Incidentally, if nothing else, working on SL pics is a fantastic way to get to grips with Photoshop – I’ve learned far more about graphic design and image manipulation through playing with SL pics than by working on actual photos.)

But anyway: the point. Part of SL’s appeal is that you can change your appearance, shape and even gender on a whim. I hadn’t done this until now, as I felt something of a personal attachment to my avatar, as you tend to do anything that you “own” and “use” for a long time, or characters in a lengthy RPG *cough*Persona*cough*. Besides, I felt that my avatar was an expression of me – me putting myself “out there” as me. So it was with some trepidation that when Morgana and her friend asked me if they could try out a new skin and shape on me I accepted – I was stepping out of my comfort zone.

The new shape and skin were very different from what I had played before. I felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t me. But then the compliments started rolling in. Suddenly I was hot. As shallow as it sounds, a simple change in appearance – an easy matter in SL – was enough to bring these compliments and by extension, give me a huge amount of confidence. Over the subsequent few days, I have grown accustomed to my new avatar – so much so that I feel I am now unlikely to return to my old one, at least for now.

But something else happened in me, too. I looked at my new, buff, muscular self with cool hair staring back at me from the screen and I thought… “I wish I could be like that.” The next day I signed up to our local gym and swimming pool complex, and I’m now following a regular exercise programme. It’s funny the things that affect you personally and give you inspiration – I never thought the whole avatar thing would work in reverse, with it giving me a desire to do something positive about my real life appearance. And while it’s unlikely I’m ever going to look quite like my improbably-shouldered alter-ego, it was very much the “trigger” to set me off on this process. It’s an interesting inverse of the usual “avatar reflecting aspects of reality” thing that I hadn’t thought of previously.

I discussed this with some friends recently, and they each admitted that they had had similarly peculiar experiences where something “uninspirational” had, ironically, provided them with the inspiration to make a change in their lives. Each of these things carried a certain degree of personal shame to them, too, so I won’t embarrass those friends by sharing them with you now. Suffice it to say that I was faintly embarrassed to say that it was SL that inspired me to kick off this workout programme, until I realised that it really doesn’t matter what it is that inspires you, so long as it inspires you. And this is why I’m sharing this story with you now.

The BattleIf you’re the slightest bit curious about following said workout programme and my feelings towards it, you can follow my progress on Tumblr here.

On Virtual Worlds

I haven’t really blogged about this much on this particular site, but I figured it’s time to sit down and talk about it as it’s something that I’ve found consistently interesting for quite a few years now.

The subject is virtual worlds – online spaces where tens, hundreds, thousands of people can log in and join a virtual community for one reason or another… it may be purely to socialise, it may be to battle monsters, it may be to have fun, it may even be to have sex. And I’m not talking about community or social networking websites here, as those are a different beast entirely. No, I’m talking about actual virtual worlds, where you can wander around as an avatar, explore the world, meet other people and interact with them in any of the ways described above.

There’s literally hundreds of virtual worlds available for people to use nowadays, of many types – some are more “gamey“, others are more “social“, others still are focused on the less salubrious side of online interactions. Today I want to focus particularly on the virtual world of Second Life and its appeal to me, despite its many, many flaws.

I remember first hearing about Second Life while I was big into The Sims. My whole flat at university became obsessed with The Sims shortly after I built our first house, made virtual representations of all six of us in the flat, then realised that we didn’t have enough money to buy beds to begin with, so the whole “family” slept in recliners. Over the years – yes, I was that guy – I bought most of the expansions and later moved on to The Sims 2.

I was, like many other fans of the series, extremely excited at the prospect of The Sims Online, offering the opportunity to have the same kind of fun, but with other people involved. It never made it over here to the UK – at least, not in any prominent way – so I never got the opportunity to try it. I forget exactly how I came across Second Life as a result of this, but it was something I stumbled across without hearing anything about it beforehand, and I thought that the concept sounded rather like The Sims Online, with players being able to design their own virtual person and “live” in a virtual world. As it happens, it has very little to do with The Sims Online, but I wasn’t to know that at the time.

For the uninitiated, Second Life is an ambitious virtual world project by Linden Lab, offering “players” (and I use the term loosely, as it’s really not a “game” as such… unless you choose to make it as such, which we’ll discuss later) the opportunity to enter a world that is almost entirely user-generated. Buildings, textures, landmasses, interface features, animations, body parts, clothing – everything is created by the residents of the virtual world, and this is the thing that initially fascinated me. I couldn’t comprehend the idea of being able to log into something where the content was so fluid, where there wasn’t a static virtual world that was always the same every time you logged in, with monsters in the same place, prime “camping spots” and so on. So I signed up and signed in, not really knowing what to expect.

at-the-gateSecond Life is a peculiar experience the first time you log in, especially if you’re more used to aforementioned online games with static content, such as World of Warcraft. You quickly become used to the concept of “rezzing”, which is the process whereby you enter a new location and you can see things downloading and appearing around you. This is disconcerting the first time it happens (and more than a little irritating if you find yourself stuck against a wall which hasn’t appeared yet) but, like many things in the world, you become used to it the more it happens. Similarly, you become used to the fact that other residents’ avatars also go through this rezzing process in front of you, so it’s entirely possible that someone could appear in front of you with no hair and no face until the textures and shapes have downloaded. Rezzing accidents are the subject of many a good laugh amongst SL residents, but they are accepted as part and parcel of life in the virtual world. People more used to traditional MMOs will likely find it a complete turn-off though – at least until they accustom themselves to it.

Upon arrival in SL, the question on many residents’ lips is “what on earth am I supposed to be doing?” And the answer is not simple. Explore, interact, build things, take photographs, join groups, play games, look at art, shop, fuck, roleplay, pretend to be a vampire… the list goes on for a mile, and all of these interactions are built using the basic engine of the Linden Lab-developed software, with extensions built, designed and scripted by residents of the world, just like everything else. People make in-world money either by paying out of their own pocket to buy “currency” – or by working a job, just like real life (albeit with MUCH better hours). It’s always interesting to hear how seriously people take their SL jobs, whether they’re a DJ in a club streaming their music through something like ShoutCast, a live musician, a virtual performer, a dancer, a greeter, a builder, an estate agent, a facility manger, a prostitute, a Game Master for roleplaying areas – again, the list of things goes on, and people have the opportunity to completely subsidise their virtual existence through virtual hard graft if they so desire.

Another thing that is almost immediately noticeable about SL is the sheer diversity of the avatars present. And we’re not talking a set choice of races here, with arbitrary “body size” sliders. We’re talking complete customisation. We’re talking this situation here:

snapshot_111This wasn’t anything particularly special happening – it was a discussion group where we sat down and had a civilised chat about a set topic. Like a real-world discussion group in fact.

And that’s the thing with Second Life. It has this immensely odd (yet perfectly natural-feeling once you’ve been there a while) ability to combine the mundane and the absurd. Everyone is distinctive in Second Life – because you’re not limited to hard-coded appearance options, you can be whoever you want to be. You don’t even have to be human. I picked up an awesome Pac-Man avatar the other day that allows you to spawn dots and ghosts and turn any place you go into a game of 3D Pac-Man.

In fact, the question of not being human is one of the more interesting sides to Second Life that I haven’t explored yet. It also happens to be the side that there’s a lot of sordid assumptions about, particularly around the “furry” avatars. Yes, there are people who choose to represent themselves as furry animals and then have simulated sex whilst masturbating furiously at the sight of their interlocked pixels. But equally there are people who choose to represent themselves as furry animals just because they like them. On one memorable occasion I was spending some time at a hangout with my earliest friends in SL (who are still good personal friends to this day, I might add) and I was introduced to an immensely clever man from a university who was working on lots of exciting things to do with AI. My friend Lyndy, who introduced me, assumed that because I “knew about computers” I’d be able to chat to this guy no problem. However, he was explaining concepts that were way over my head… but they were interesting to hear. The really peculiar thing, though, was that he was dressed as a fox. Not a foxy lady, no, an actual fox. In a waistcoat. If anyone remembers a really old DOS point-and-click adventure called Inherit the Earth… the main character from that? Fox-in-a-waistcoat called Rif? That’s about it.

Why do I remember that? I never even played it.

Second Life is flawed in many ways. I’ve talked about this many a time with Jennatar, and she suggested the notion that virtual worlds are a much younger technology than the Internet. Currently with virtual worlds, she says, we’re at a similar sort of stage to the Internet was in in the early 90s in that there’s a lot of stuff out there to explore, but navigation, user interfaces, efficiency and practicality haven’t quite reached the level of stability you’d need to be completely “mainstream”. This means that titles like Second Life are, at least for now, going to be “niche” interests. However, interestingly, the “niche” for Second Life perhaps isn’t what you’d expect – an oft-quoted “statistic” is that of the many residents of the world, a significant majority of them are female and over 30. This is certainly true amongst my circle of online friends – I think there’s one guy and about thirty gals on my friends list. This is also backed up by the fact that the “retail” sector in the world is very much female-dominated, with vast business empires and shopping malls devoted to female clothing, hair, animations and the like, with male products often relegated to the virtual equivalent of a dusty old cellar. One may argue that this may lead to a lot of males representing them as females, and of course this goes on – given the opportunity to live out a fantasy life, I’m sure there’s plenty of men out there who wonder what it would be like to be a woman – and a hot one at that (no-one is ugly in SL unless you make a specific effort to do so!) – and give it a try.

There’s a kind of implicit understanding amongst residents though – don’t ask, don’t tell. If someone doesn’t want their “first life” brought into it, then you don’t ask. If it’s a female on the screen, then as far as you’re concerned, it’s a female you’re dealing with. I actually don’t have a problem with this. Perhaps it’s because I’m not spending my time going around having sex with these people, but it certainly doesn’t bother me – if they choose to represent themselves in that way, for whatever reason that might be, then that’s their business.

Despite its many flaws and its perceived “niche” interest, I have a lot of time for Second Life. It’s an experience that is very much made by the people you interact with. Without people to meet, talk to and interact with you’re relying on stumbling across interesting content solo – and while there is plenty of interesting stuff to do by yourself, it’s always better to share with other people. Much like real life, in fact.

quiet-thunder

I’ll certainly be very interested to see how virtual worlds develop over the years. Will Second Life remain in its pioneering position of almost entirely user-generated content? Will it be overtaken by something else? Who knows. I do know that I have made some genuinely close friends in its strange world, many of whom I am unlikely to ever meet face-to-face. And I’m fine with that. By having their “virtual” face in front of me on the screen – even if it’s nothing like their real-life face – I still feel like I “know” them better than people I interact with on the Internet in less direct ways. Perhaps “know” is the wrong word – it’s difficult to describe, but knowing someone’s avatar feels a lot more “physical” (for want of a better word) somehow than a username on a page of text.

It’s not an experience for everyone by any means. It would bore the pants off someone expecting to play an exciting game, because it’s not a game. But as a means for virtual social interaction, it’s an interesting experiment… one that still has a long way to go, but also has an incredible amount of potential.

I blog about my experiences in the world in more detail here. I post my photos from the world here. Feel free to check them out if you’re the slightest bit interested.