Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Do you love me? do you loathe me? do you even know I exist? -- our dichotomous relationship with Linden Lab

~~~
I go back and forth between sometimes being incredibly disappointed with Linden Lab, and other times feelin’ kinda sorta positive about those folks: feeling like...well, at least they’re trying to get things right. So, in between saying mean and snarky things, and threatening to kick poor old Phillip Linden square in the balls if I ever meet him, I do make an effort to give them credit when I think it is due, and say encouraging things when they seem to be giving it the old college try.

Happily wallowing in Caledon's "courtesy and old-world charm"

Like this recent development in which the Lab is trying to come up with a means to address the problem of misappropriation of creative content in world.

I won’t go into the whole explanation of the process that they are experimenting with--suffice to say that as I understand it, the idea is that when it becomes established that someone’s texture or object design has been misappropriated and used to create other stuff in-world, LL will pretty much nuke the offending material, turning objects into plywood spheres, and textures into monochromatic disappointments.

Is this a perfect solution? No of course not. I am well past thinking there are perfect solutions to any issue, whether in SL or real life.

Does it have a lot of potential for things to go wrong and make people unhappy?.

Oh, you bet. I call your attention to Emilly Orr’s well thought-out post on this subject. Emilly is a hell of a lot smarter than I am, and has a mind that focuses in ways that I always find intriguing. And I think she has a lot of really good points in her post. But are the negative outcomes she envisions inevitable, rather than simply being possible?

Hecate’s drawers, y'all, I got no freakin’ idea.

It is entirely possible that things will turn out with the results Emilly suggests...or it could be something entirely different. One thing we do know for sure about the grid is that it is a festival of unintended consequences. Hell, it is even possible that this plan the Lab is working on could actually discourage the misappropriation of other people's content. There is a good chance that the nuking of content which is based on misappropriated materials would not happen all that often, so the collateral damage to unsuspecting buyers might not be all that dreadful. It’s hard to say. After all, I can never shake the sensation that we are in an extended beta phase here, and anything we customers or the folks at Lab do is still in the realm of mad scientist experimentation.

Hey, pretty much, both us and them, we’re all just making this shit up as we go along.

But whatever the outcome...whether it’s more positive than negative, or wallows somewhere in the vast range in between, I gotta hand it to the Lab with regards to one key aspect of this: they caught on that this issue is important to a lot of folks and they are trying to do something about it.

Look at this quote from Pink Linden’s Dec. 9 announcement about this concept:

“As we said in our recent Content Management Roadmap blog post, we believe that Resident-created content is the heart and soul of Second Life, and we want to help everyone continue to benefit from the amazing creativity that has been displayed by our Residents inworld. When content creators are successful, Second Life is a better world for all of us--more inspiring, more spontaneous, and more fun!

Today we are pleased to announce continued forward progress along this roadmap: a pilot program to test some early improvements to our intellectual property complaint process. The goal of this program is to make the process more convenient and streamlined for Residents, and to empower content creators to better control their content.”

Yeah, to some extent, she is saying “the content-making population is necessary for our product to remain appealing to the customers and is therefore necessary for us labbies to continue getting our paychecks.” But it is also a recognition that there is an issue here that makes residents’ stomachs churn and their angst to increase. "Content theft" as it is commonly known, is something that matters to a lot of us who create, who have friends who create, or who rely on the continued productivity and happiness of the creators in order to be able to do all the wacky nonsense we love to do in-world.

In the past, the Lab has been known to turn away from big issues like this, or even to cheerfully embrace the perpetrators who were making the trouble, rather than responding to the wishes and interests of the majority of residents. The Lab has been known to say when something was fucked up, “hey, it’s up to you residents to fix things that have gotten fucked up--remember, “your world, your imagination...your problem.” Linden Lab in the past has given many of us the impression of being laissez faire, lazy, and uninterested--they often used the excuse, “well, there just isn’t any way of making a technical fix for that problem," or "we just can't keep everybody happy, so we just can’t--or won’t--do anything at all...Have a nice Second Life, fuckers.”

But this time, they are actually trying to do something.

Yeah, it may blow up in the their faces, it may do bizarre things we’ll all regret. But it’s something. It suggests to us that, hey, maybe there is someone on the other side of the equation that actually cares enough to try.

And I think they deserve some credit for that.

Because, after all, one of the other things many of us have felt for a long time is that the Labsters doesn't really understand us or really want to know who we are and what we want and need. It has seemed to many of us that who we are and what we do makes them...uncomfortable.

It has been a long time since they used the old tag line, “Your World, Your Imagination.” But it often seemed that if your imagination wasn’t focused on some largely human-centric, shiny futurist utopia or standard post-apocalyptic dystopia, sexy-youthful contemporary shopaholicism, or hippy-dippy Burning Man-style artistic range of visions, they just didn’t fucking get it. And more to the point, they didn’t seem to want to. If what you were doing was focused on something like exploring the historical past (or an imagined alternative past), or pursuing neo-traditional literary and artistic interests, or something that was non-human-centric or that they found embarrassing like furries, tinies, Gor, elves and so on--they seemed to try to ignore it as much as possible.

This impression was reinforced by situations like what happened back at the time of SL6B, when Ina Centaur’s Shakespeare in SL project was rejected for inclusion in the SL birthday exhibits as not fitting in with the theme of “the future of the Metaverse.” I know that whole situation was incredibly complex and confusing, but at the heart of it, it simply seems that there was a major difference of opinion within the Lab about what should be seen as representative of the “future,” as Ina’s Skin Encyclopedia was accepted, but Shakespeare was not.

Well, dammit, the “future” is not just about new stuff: it also can be about continuity with the past and the present, and a re-imagining of the framework in which we explore our existing cultural, artistic and intellectual heritage. It can be about sharing our diverse histories with each other in new and creative ways though the medium of the continually evolving technology.

And--again, trying to be fair to the Lab--maybe there ARE some people in the organization who do get it...who in effect, get us. I found it interesting that yes, Shakespeare in SL wasn’t deemed appropriate for SL6B, but does show up in the new SL promos about “what is SL?"

In the slideshow, under the category "Start Exploring," there is a screen entitled "Get Cultured" which features this text:

"Looking for culture? Second Life is full of museums, art exhibits, book clubs and theater. A virtual Shakespeare acting troop routinely presents the best of the Bard, while the Smithsonian recently launched the Latino Virtual Museum." (my bolding)

Actually I think looking through this whole new promotional explanation of SL is quite illuminating. I believe it can be seen as being suggestive of how the company generally understands it's customer base and their interests--as well as how they perhaps would like it to be.

The presentation is still primarily human-centric. In the machinama portion of "What is SL?" the avatars shown are primarily young, contemporary-looking humans. There's even a guy in a suit with a briefcase (he really doesn't look like he's much fun to hang around with, and if I was going to be really coarse about it, I would suggest that he appears to desperately need to get laid). At the very end, you see some tinies and some furries, but damn, you better look fast or you'll miss em. Some people are shown in period clothing, but they obviously are just going to dress-up costume parties--not roleplaying.

In fact, nowhere in all of this is there anything about combat-oriented sims, or roleplaying of any sort, or storytelling or the virtual literature movement in any of its manifestations. Well...maybe there is something implied by captions such as "free yourself" and "free your mind," while other captions suggest you can "change your look" and "change your mind." But it's hard to say. And I certainly don't think the casual touron looking at this promotional peice is going to say, "Change my look? Free my mind? Whoa! dude! I could develop a persona as a lady cop in working-class Berlin of the Weimar Republic era, and interact with other people who are interested in that!"

It's like how in the "Showcase" category for "places" they include Caledon. And you go, "Wow, hey! Cool!" But here's the description:

"Step back in time to the 19th Century. Caledon is a vibrant Victorian-themed community within Second Life. If it’s courtesy and old world charm you’re seeking, look no further. Put on your best Victorian suit or dress, and join Caledonians at their annual Harvest Festival- or become a member of this ever-growing online community."

I don't think that really helps you understand the opportunities for roleplay...and yes, I know Caledon is not specifically an "rp community" but rp certainly does happen there. And no mention of steampunk...

It's great they highlight Caledon. But at the same time, you get the feeling that their understanding of that complex arrangement of communities is extremely superficial. Oh, I suppose if they really tried to explain it with any degree of accuracy, it might just confound and possibly frighten the average casual visitor, but it it does feel rather...weak.

But, still, I have to give them some credit..because it feels like they are trying. Another example is when Blue Linden's SL travel blog featured a post about the ironclad battles that are organized by Hotspur O'Toole and his fellow proponents of nautical mayhem. That suggests a certain open-mindedness. I thought it was pretty cool that a Linden seems to have actually gone and watched a battle and talked to the folks involved to get a sense of what the fuck was going on. Likewise, I have also seen a post in which Blue visited the tinies of Raglan Shire, AND put on a tiny av to fit in. Those kinds of things are really encouraging.

But you know...I have been in SL since late 2004. Dio has existed since May 2005. And the only time I ever met a Linden (that I knew was a Linden, anyway) was when a number of years ago I applied for a liaison job and got an interview. It didn't go all that well. Nothing really wrong with how they approached it--it just was obvious that they were looking for someone different from me...someone focused more on the technical side of helping people, rather than the social aspects. At the time I knew relatively little about building or trouble-shooting, and if that was what they wanted, then they were right not to hire me.

But otherwise, I really haven't experienced much contact with people from the company. And yes, I will freely admit that the lack of contact was a two-way street. Yeah, they never wander through the kinds of places that I live in, but it's also true that I have only gone to a few of their office hour things, and then I gave up on it after getting frustrated with the challenges of communication in that kind of situation. Nor have I posted on the SL forums (as is true for about 80% of the SL user base). I guess I got burned out on company sounding boards after dealing with the Electronic Arts TSO forums, which were dominated by the obnoxious, condescending lumptards who represented EA, and their witless sycophants.

Yeah...I know, I know, I just need to fuckin' get over that.

So anyhow, people like me probably could do a better job of trying to get our perspective across to LL. That's one thing that really struck me as I looked at the current "What is SL" promo. It can't ALL be LL's fault that they don't understand us, that they don't know who we are.

Maybe a lot of us have been too insular. For so long, I never bothered to connect with anyone from the Lab because they simply seemed irrelevant within the context of what I was doing. And the other thing that struck me, looking at the subtle hints and sub-texts within the promotional blurbs and the showcase: the people within LL must be a good bit less homogeneous in background and point of view than some of us have thought. Just like they seem to have not done a good job of comprehending the true diversity of the resident population, we haven't really understood how diverse they probably are as well.

I don't know if any of them will read this. The only time I know for sure that Linden Lab people have read this blog was when I did the spoof on their "economic model," comparing their leadership to the ancient Easter Islanders who committed the island population to building hundreds of giant stone heads. Statcounter data indicated that in fact a fair number of people from Linden Lab looked at that one...which I find a little frustrating as there certainly have been other things I have written that were not nearly so goddamn silly and self-indulgent. Sometimes I think I have written some stuff that might actually be of interest or value to the labbites, but... oh well, that's how life works sometimes.

When some of us were heavily involved in The Sims Online (TSO), Will Wright used to regularly wander around in the game (using an alt, of course) and he interacted directly with a lot of the people who were doing unexpected, wild and woolly things with his creation. Maybe the Lab could do well to have some more folks wandering in the same way, and not just to generate a "travel guide" like Blue's, but to actually develop a first-hand awareness of what is going on and what people want and need to do what they are doing. And on the other side of the equation, maybe I'll try again with going to some office hours.
~~~

Sunday, December 13, 2009

A Deadwood Story -- is that any way to raise a child? part 4

~~~
Dio and carrie Anne had proceeded to fetch the week’s laundry and the linens from the orphanage and carried the large bundles back to the Laundry on China Row. Business was slow, so Dio gave Hepzibeth some greenbacks and suggested that she take herself, along with Jiu and Bo down to Miss Estwee’s for some pie and coffee. The latter two, as you may have gathered from their names, were a couple of Celestials who were workin’ for Dio at the time. Bo was a nice quiet young man, and Jiu was this sort o’ plain gal who might have been his sister, or maybe not. Hard to say about those things sometimes.

Whitewood Creek, back behind the laundry and China Row

Anyhow, Dio kinda felt like Carrie doin’ her punishment was something that didn’t require other folks to be hanging around watching, so she told Heppy, Bo and Jiu to take their time and just have a morning off, with pay, of course. Hepzibeth, as usual, shook her head in a disapproving sort of way, as such extravagance offended her Scottish sense of frugal practicality. Mind you, some folks will argue that the notion of Scottish folk being a mite close-fisted with their pennies is one of those silly generalizations about an entire class of people that is something of an exaggeration. As far as I am concerned, ‘tis nothing more than one of those spurious notions that get repeated and reinforced by the lazy-minded draftsmen who make the odd-looking drawings as a sort of social or political commentary in Harper’s Weekly (and similar publications that rely on mass sales to the lowest common denominator for their fiscal survival). In the case of Heppy, however, I will go so far as to warrant that the cliche was to some extent accurate, bein’ as the gal did in fact embrace frugality with an almost religious fervor.

Bo and Jiu, on the other, looked pleased as punch. From their perspective, this was just further evidence to them that Missy Di-oh was probably a little bit on the high side of mad, but that her particular brand of lunacy was like that of the blessed Happy Idiots, and a source of good fortune to people like themselves. They thanked their Boss Lady most graciously and dashed off in Hepzibeth’s wake towards Miss Estwee’s and the pie.

Carrie Anne was somewhat surprised to find that Dio did not leave the entire task to her. Without wasting a whole lot of words on the subject, Dio set carrie Anne to hauling water from the creek to put on the stove to heat up. Meanwhile Dio started sorting the soiled items and doing the pre-wash treatments: milk on the urine stains; kerosene on the blood and grass stains. It did not make Carrie Anne feel any better that Dio seemed to be punishing herself as well as her.

As Carrie Anne was just beginning on agitating the first batch of clothes in a tub of hot water and lye soap, Roku sauntered in.

Dio looked up from some particularly unpleasant stain in someone's drawers that she was working over with a concoction made from pig droppings (for the ammonia in it, you know).

“Hello Roku,”

“Howdy.” replied Roku. “Oh... catchin’ up on the laundry, ah see.”

Dio smiled lightly. “Well, actually, Roku....as much as I know you would have enjoyed chuckin’ the gals in the river...I thought a better thing to do as a punishment fer Carrie Anne would be to set her to washin’ all the linens an other laundry from the orphanage, an’ for her to be thinkin’ on how Alonzo is mebbe a pain in the ass cuz he ain't got no one to tell him better an give him no attention.

Roku nodded. This seemed to be an agreeable sort of plan to her.

Dio went on, “After all, he has to live at the orphanage, which truth be told is kind of a lonely place these days.”

Carrie Anne did not look up from the tub full of clothes she was agitating with the wooden paddle. She was thinking that she had been lonely plenty of times with no one telling her how to behave, but that she had managed to not be a pain in the ass to anyone...that she knew of, anyhow. Even though she was thinking this, she said nothing, and kept spinning and turning the paddle.

“Well, ah told Elizabeth to go to church and pray for his forgiveness for doin such a fool thing,” said Roku. She then looked sort of thoughtful. “While ah am sure ye gave Carrie Anne a good talkin’ to...an’ this here is a fine punishment as well...did ya spank her good? Ah hopes ya spanked her so good her butt was red and raw.”

Dio sighed. “Roku, did gettin’ spanked ever do you any good as a chile?”

“Oh yes! Ah learned not to do bad things cause ah didn’t like to be spanked. Ah think Carrie Anne needs ah good spankin’ for almost drowning that feckless kid.”

As she listened to Roku, Carrie Anne had slowed down agitatin’ the clothes to almost nothing. She thought, “If anyone hits me, I shall run away to live with the indians. They probably won’t want to scalp me if I just ask to join them, instead of trading whiskey to them...that was a dumb idea anyhow.” She was feeling a growing level of irritation with Elizabeth, although she wasn’t quite to the point of thinking it had all been her friend’s fault that they were in this situation.

Dio, however, did not seem swayed by Roku’s argument. “Ye know... funny thing..when I got whupped..back before m' pa stopped givin’ a shit about what I did or din't do...the whuppin’ din't make me behave no better..jus made me look fer ways to git even. I spit in m pa's soup one time after he whupped me...”

Roku frowned. “Well, ya is unusual in that regard, Dio. Most folks spank the tar outa theys kids when they does bad things, and they grows up good.”

Dio briefly considered pointing out that in Roku’s case, she had evidently been spanked as a child a good bit, and had grown up to be a part-time prostitute who was very comfortable with killing other human beings--so maybe perceptions of “grows up good” were kinda sorta relative. But she thought the better of it and let it go.

Instead, she took a different tack in statin’ her case: “Roku, I know lots o’ folks wallop they young’uns somethin’ dreadful, an’ apparently the Good Book tells em that’s the right thing to do an’ all. Unfortunately, that must ha’ been writ down in the part o’ our Bible that Papaw used fer kindlin’ one real bad winter, so’s I never got to read that bit.”

That made Roku laugh, but Dio’s face was deadly serious as she continued. “I ‘spose I’m jus’ a ignerant heathen savage in that sense. Probbly spent too much time around injuns. Ye know, injuns is greatly fond o’ chillun, an’ as a rule they generally don’t beat their young’un’s with the regularity an’ enthusiasm that civilized folk seem to. So’s here my way o’ lookin at it--Carrie Anne, in the strict sense of it, ain’t my chile. An’ I ain’t her ma. But I do think of it as she is on her way to bein’ a Kuhr. So I reckon I might do better treatin’ her as such...doin’ this the way m’ Papaw woulda done. That is why I have set her to a punishment that involves doin’ somethin’ worthwhile, what ain’t a waste o time and that gives ‘er somethin’ to reflect upon.

Roku had one of those expression on her face that indicates that the person wearin’ it is seriously reconsdierin’ their position. Finally she commented, “Make her work...great idea...”

Dio smiled in response, relieved that she was somehow getting through to her friend.

“But ah still think a spankin’ on top of that shud do wondahs.”

Dio exploded, “HECATE’S BREATH, ROKU!” LOOK...LOOK AT THESE HERE!”

She held up the set o’ boy’s under-drawers she had been working on.

“Goddamit! Feast yer peepers on this badger stripe runnin’ up the backside o “Lonzo’s spare under britches...I'm thinkin’ this task is a gonna be a worse punishment for Carrie Anne than I expected.”

Dio muttered as she tossed the drawers into the pile that was to go in the washtub next, “Holy christ on roller skates, din't this boy ever larn to wipe hisself?”

But Roku was not done yet. “I am so disappointed in Carrie Anne...ah thot for once, heah is a nice lil’ gal, not like Geoff nor Addi...”

Carrie Anne, trying not to cry, was biting down on her lip until it was bleeding. Dio on the other hand was getting a tad exasperated.

“Goddammit, Roku! She IS a nice lil’ gal! She jus’ made a mistake like we all do. An’ at least the slack-jawed lack-wit din't go an’ drown!”

They continued working in silence as Roku watched. Dio dumped out the now muddled gray water from the first loads, and filled the wash tub with fresh hot water from the big copper boiler on the stove. Carrie Anne brought buckets of water from the creek for rinsing out the items that had been washed. Her hands were getting raw and chapped from the lye soap. There were also a couple places she had scalded her hands on the boiler and the stove, and those stung something dreadful.

Finally, Roku broke the silence. “Heah is what ah am goin' to do concernin’ Carrie Anne...ah is goin' to ignore her and she is gonna have to earn my friendship back. Ah nevah been friends befoah with a little girl, but she so dissapointed mah self...”

CarrieAnne was just lugging in another bucket she had filled from the creek, water sloshing on her feet. She stopped, sat it down, and said in a quiet voice, “I'm sorry Roku."

“Bein sorry ain’t cuttin’ it with me, Carrie Anne,” replied Roku. “Ya has to earn back mah friendship...ya needs to learn this is the kinda consequences what happens when ya does somethin’ bad.”

Dio was getting tired of this. “Roku...Hon, it's the first mistake I seen this chile make...I reckon she's gonna make a bunch more b'fore she's got to my age.”

Roku may have picked up on the weary tone in her friend’s voice. She stood and headed for the door. “Ah is going to walk ovah to the Church to see if Elizabeth is still in theah, prayin’ like ah told her to...see y’all latah. Gots to see if Elizabeth obeyed me or not.”

Dio nodded as she wrung out yet another shirt. “Take care, Roku.”

Carrie Anne regarded the murky used wash water and the thought crossed her mind that running away and being killed by renegades might have been preferable. She did not relish the prospect of doing this again once every week for a month.

Dio carried a basket of damp laundry out to the line and began hanging it to dry. CarrieAnne dragged another basket out, but found she had a small problem.

“Dio...I can't reach to hang 'em

Dio went over to Bu’s and found a wooden box in the kindling pile. She came back and set it on the ground for Carrie Anne to stand on. The girl took an armload of bed linens, hopped on to the box and began hanging things up.

“Dio?”

“Yes Hon?”

“How come...how come you aren’t makin’ me do all this myself? Why are you helping me?”

“Dio sighed as she continued hanging wash at the higher end of the clothesline. “Well...lessee...ye think yer larnin’ something doin’ this?”

“Yes’m”

“Well, Hon, I ‘spect I had some larnin’ to do as well. Still tryin’ to figger out how this livin’ with a chile is ‘sposed to work. I’m responsible fer ye now...an’ so I needed to face up to my responsibility in this fer not ridin herd on ye better. “Sides...you ‘n me...whatever happens, good or bad, or in-betwixt, we’s in it together.”

Carrie Anne noticed that her hands still stung from the scalds and the lye soap. She rubbed them on her damp dress.

“Go rinse them hands off in the crik, Hon,” suggested Dio. When the girl did so and returned, Dio handed her a clean dry towel.

“Thank you.” said Carrie Anne quietly.

“That's all right, Hon.

Carrie Anne looked down at her feet and wondered what Elizabeth was doing. Dio was pulling her waistcoat and jacket back on, and then she buckled on her pistol belt. Once she was fully reassembled she gently put a hand on Carrie Anne's shoulder.

“Carrie Anne, when ye make a mistake from now on, I want ye to come to me about it...face up to it, like a Kuhr..like would make Papaw Marcus Aurelius proud to have ye fer a great granddaughter”

Carrie Anne nodded her head slowly, "Yes ma'am. I'll do better, I promise.”

Dio looked satisfied with this assurance. “I trust that ye will. Allright now, go find ‘Lizabeth an’ tell her that yer supposed to bop her if'n she does somethin’ stupid like this again in future...an’ also tell her that I am givin’ her leave to do the same to you if'n yer the one who comes up with some boneheaded ideer.”

Carrie Anne finally smiled back a little. “Yes’m. I'll tell 'er.

Dio peered into the little girl’s eyes. “You ok now?”

CarrieAnne Dubrovna nodded her head and answered quietly "Yes’m"

“You understand that jus cuz you made a mistake, I ain't a gonna turn you out?” asked Dio gently.

To be honest, Carrie Anne still didn’t believe this was true, but she nodded her head in agreement anyway. "Yes, I know"

They moved out onto the porch and Dio closed the door to the laundry. Without looking at Carrie Anne, she added in a surprisingly soft voice, “You also understand that even when yer makin’ a mistake--I am still gonna love ye? An’ I hope when I make my share, yer still gonna ...well never mind...I think we understand each other.

Carrie Anne could tell that Dio’s mind was somewhere else right now...she suspected that Dio had gone back to west central Texas, to her parents’ place on the edge of the Comancheria. She didn’t know all the details, but she was aware that something had happened between Dio and her folks back when she was little, that somehow, they had blamed her for something...that they had stopped caring about her...but Carrie Anne said nothing. She only nodded her head and forced a little smile.

Dio was smiling as well, but it was a strangely sad smile. “Now ye go find ‘Lizabeth, ye hear?”

After Carrie Anne had run off down China Row, Dio decided to head over to the Gem. Kit and Clay and Sparrow and some other folks were hangin’ around, and it made Dio feel better to be not be alone right now. Clay got her some coffee, and they were all goin’ on at some length about Alonzo and his unexpected dip in the Whitewood. A preponderance of the wittier comments seemed to be at Alonzo’s expense.

Dio explained about the nature of the punishment she given Carrie Anne, and most of the folks seemed to think it was pretty good way of handling things. Most of them also got something of a chuckle out of the notion that Roku, of all people, had directed Elizabeth to the church to pray for enlightenment and forgiveness.

Suddenly they heard the pounding of small boots and shouting.

“DIO! DIO, Please! Come quick!”

They all turned to see Carrie Anne at the doorway to the Gem, her dress and stockings wet and smeared with mud.

“Hon! what is it? What's wrong?!” asked Dio in alarm.

“OH Dio! I saw Elizabeth throw herself into the swollen creek! And Miss Roku had to jump in to get her...and I had to toss her a rope so they could get back out, and...oh Dio, it was terrible....”
~~~

Friday, December 11, 2009

"Life is a (run-down, unromanticized) cabaret, old chum" -- The 1920's Berlin Project in SL

~~~
1920's Berlin--a crowded working-class neighborhood


Recently, I heard about a relatively new historical build that opened back in July 2009, but which is drawing a good bit of increased attention, so I decided to go see it for myself. "The 1920's Berlin Project" was definitely worth the trip--unequivocally, a great example of Something in SL That Does Not Suck.

A few nights ago, I went there when no one was around. I spent maybe an hour or so kitting myself out in period garb and hair and then sniffing about into all the corners and crevices of this complex build. I was so impressed, I made a point of coming back the next day for the 2 PM "Happy Hour" at the neighborhood bar when more of the residents, including the founder, Jo Yardley, would be around. It was an interesting and enjoyable experience, and I intend to make other excursions into this recreated representation of working-class Weimar Germany.

And as I said, I'm not the only one who is paying attention to Ms. Yardley's experiment. After I announced on Twitter that I planned to blog about my visit to 1920s Berlin, Rhianon Jameson tweeted back that she was planning on doing the same thing, and on the same day (and she in fact has done so with a very nice piece and images of some places I completely missed in my visits to the build). Great minds thinking alike and all that? Maybe. Mostly it's just that this is a very creative, and engaging build for people like us who want to see what can be done with historical immersion environments in SL, and I think this one may be gathering some momentum.

Standing just off the main square in the Berlin Build. That's me in a quick outfit I put together using Ingenue hair and the top part of an Ingenue outfit, with a skirt I made and basic pumps from Tesla. The scarf and jacket came from some other sources that escape me at the moment.

This build is the brainchild of Jo Yardley, who in real life is an historical consultant and living history enthusiast from the Netherlands. She tells me she hasn't been in SL all that long, but clearly she saw the potential that the platform has as a means to recreate environments from the past for recreational and didactic purposes.

The build itself is unique. The buildings and textures are her own, and look pretty much like nothing else you are going to find in-world. And that's not just because there isn't anyone else who has built a working class Berlin neighborhood of the 1920s, it's because Jo has drawn upon ideas and textures from images and materials in her own personal collection in order to pull this off.

And damn, it really freakin' works.

You wander around in this kind of grimy, gritty, verismo streetscape of small-to-medium size houses, shops, tenements and miscellaneous urban detritus and street furniture. There are faded and peeling signs and posters, street lamps and vehicles, and bot-avatars representing street characters such as beggars, an organ grinder, urchin and a drunk. Detail is spot on. I was agreeably pleased to notice that one beggar, representing a shell-shocked and possibly crippled ex-soldier from the war, is still wearing his M1910 "waffenrock" tunic.

The ex-soldier in his waffenrock

I am not going go into a whole lot of explanation about the background on the build, being as you can find that at a Wikipedia page regarding the project. But I will tell you that it has some stringent rules. You are expected to put on 1920s clothing and guys need to wear short hair (there is a very decent looking freebie period "haircut" along with some basic working-class outftis for both men and women available in the entry area). Weapons are prohibited and you are not allowed to come in as a Nazi Brownshirt or advocate Nazi principles--this is, of course, not only to prevent appearance of the inevitable wave of worthless, basement-dwelling, middle-class, white boy grieftards who take some kind of peculiar pseudo-sexual delight in being as "politically incorrect" as possible, it also heads off any conflict with the LL TOS. It is also completely and absolutely historically authentic for the context because, as they will tell you during happy hour at the cabaret, this neighborhood is way too "red" for any National Socialist crap to be tolerated. Wear a swastika, or open your mouth and spew any nutzi guff, or do the stupid salute, and you would have had the living shit beat out of you by the neighborhood labor unionists, communists, and anarchists.

A kiosk with various peeling posters including some that I am pretty sure indicate how "red" this neighborhood is.

The rules , however, are very relaxed in other ways. compared to what you will find in many rp sims. You do not have to stay in character all the time in open chat. The roleplaying I encountered in the cabaret was what is called in the parlance, "RP Lite." The sizable group of very friendly people who I met there had definite ideas about who their 1920s characters are, and what the lives and backstories of their characters are like. But they were also very comfortable with slipping back and forth between 1920s conversations and discussion of current SL conditions and troubles, commentary on LL, and sharing some really interesting information about the history of the period. It was in a lot of ways like the conversations you have at living history events. I found it engaging and fun, if a little bit disconcerting as I endeavored to stay in character as a Kriegswitwe (war widow) who was trying to convince bartender Jo to become an anarcho-syndicalist.

Mind you I don't mean to bring this up to be critical--I just want you to understand where they are coming from right now. The people I met were very welcoming, smart, and interesting to talk to--they simply have chosen to not do a hard-core style of rp here. In discussing things with Jo in IM while all this mixed series of conversations was going on, she told me that the project is very much an on-going experiment, not only in terms of the build being gradually refined and expanded, but also in terms of how its residents and regulars are deciding how they will interact with one another and visitors. This is important to understand: the project is very dynamic in an organic sort of way. It is still evolving.

At the cabaret "happy hour," 1920s Berlin founder Jo Yardley is tending bar. To my right was a very nice English expatriate, who knew a great deal about steam engines.

One of the astonishing things about this build is that it is not a complete sim. It is only a partial, but with all the twists and turns and the clever ways that the builder used her spaces, it feels a whole hell of a lot bigger. Yeah, it's like a fucking tardis. Jo reinforced this perception of a larger space by putting up photo murals of early 20th century German city street scenes (I presume Berlin) to close off the ends of the streetscapes with a trompe l'oeil effect.

The community that is starting to develop here is raising money to continue expanding the project. In fact if I have a criticism about the build itself, it is only that the immersion effect is slightly diminished here and there by the presence of the big donation "thermometers." But hey, you do what you gotta do, right? And I assume that at some point these things will go away or be restricted to the entry area.

All in all, this is one of the better things I have seen in SL in a long while. It's up there with the WWI poets sim--and in some ways superior to that project. For one thing, although there is a didactic element to the Berlin build (you can go in the school and see streamed video about the history of the era), but it is a far more realistic environment. And unlike builds such as the Frank Lloyd Wright Museum--which present three-D models of historic structures that are beautiful and highly accurate, but also empty, sterile, lifeless and without real human context--this Berlin build has a great deal of humanity to it, both in terms of the bot-avatars (which I think are far superior to the "Pepper's ghost" dummies and see-through flats of the WWI poets sim), and the friendly, talkative residents you can meet at happy hour and other events.

It also feels like a place people live, with litter on the streets, broken windows, useful stuff in the stores, diverse elements that include a laundry, a seedy tattoo parlor, a claustrophobic police station, a shabby tenement block, and a homey little restaurant. And FURTHERMORE, Jo went out of her way to build it to a realistic scale. Unlike most of SL, in 1920s Berlin the doorknobs are not at the height of your nipples; ceilings do not tower 20 feet over your head. I love that.


But you know what is really remarkable? This build came into being because of the efforts and vision of individuals--primarily Jo Yardley, but with the support and participation of other everyday SL residents and vendors. It didn't happen through the efforts of some organization or university with a professional project team and expensive gold solution provider-type builders, or with the cossetting and cuddling that LL applies to the projects it favors. Nope. Very much like projects such as the Deadwood sim, this is a real grass-roots kind of experiment. Remember that old "you world, your imagination" tag line that used to be splashed all over the SL web site? Well, goddamit, this is a great example of what our fellow residents' imaginations can produce, given the chance.

If you want to visit the 1920s Berlin build it can be found at http://slurl.com/secondlife/dudintsev/92/77/500/

To learn more about the proejct, you can look at the previously mentioned Wikipedia entry or visit the 1920s Berlin Project forum.

In the tattoo parlor. Delightfully seedy, ja?
~~~

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Trees must still die -- Books of interest on Western History

~~~
When you look around online, you can find an awful lot of information about any subject, and the history of the American Western Frontier is no exception. And, as is true of most other subjects researched online, a huge percentage of what you will will find is utter bullshit, salacious crap and mind-blowingly shallow, simplistic, and/or unsubstantiated nonsense. A good bit of it is just the same old shit being being copied and regurgitated from one half-ass source to the next.

How do you tell the difference between the swill and the good stuff?

In a lot of ways it's just like how you judge books: you look to see if there is documentation, you look at what sources are cited, you get to know who to trust and who is blowing smoke up your ass, and you eventually get used to relying on your instincts. But ultimately, judging information and interpretation of information--whether it comes to you in electronic or printed form--still requires that you spend time looking at a lot of books. Real, honest-to-god, dead tree publications. Which is why, as a public service (and to earn freebie points to get more books for myself), I have entered into the Amazon.com "Associates" program which enables me to put widgets on This Here Blog that will highlight publications that you might find enlightening or just plain fun.



This concept hadn't occurred to me until I saw this being done over on the blog of the exquisite and consistently interesting Emilly Orr, and as I have always been one who enjoyed cobbing a good idea from my betters, yea and verily, I didst go forth to ape and adapt.

The grand thing about this system is that you get to pick what YOU feel is a good match for your particular brand of e-rant. For Emilly, it's mostly horror books, chocolate, and useful electronic gizmos. Logically for me on this blog, it's mostly going to be books on Western history, including publications that I have read and found useful as source material for my stories and rp in deadwood, and books that I want to read someday because they look intriguing. I also stuck in a slew of titles that I just happened to find while perusing Amazon, and thought that they might have potential to be useful and somebody ought look at them.

This is key--I spent time going through Amazon's voluminous offerings and picked these things out. It's not just the crap that gets automatically generated with the little message that says "a while bunch of other morons who bought this claptrap ALSO pissed away their hard-earned money on these titles, mostly because the cover art included a lady with an immense rack."

Because, just like on the internet, there is a lot of hard-copy ink and paper crap out there as well. As my friends in the military history biz used to say,:

"Any idiot can write a book...and most of them do."

Anyway...I digress.

You will find there are two widgets on the blog:

First of all you will see right below the masthead, a slideshow of some books, DVD's and even a CD that I thought y'all might find of interest. And yes, you will note that the show features some items that are not just pure western history-related, such as "Her Best Shot," Larua Browder's book on women and guns in America (which I found fascinating for obvious reasons), or "Boilerplate," which I have reviewed elsewhere on this blog. Mind you, I included "Boilerplate," along with the Leonard Bernstein CD of Aaron Copland's (mostly) western-themed music, and a few great John Wayne classic DVD's, just because they are pretty fuckin' awesome. Yeah, the DVD's and the CD aren't exactly source material, but goddammit, they sure as hell can get you revved up for some rp fun. And "Boilerplate" just kicks ass, both in concept and execution, and if I can help Paul Guinan and Anina Bennett sell a few more copies of their wacky and delightful book, then by Hecate's drawers, I will do it.

The second widget (not a widget really, more like a big-ass picture and a simple "click here" doodad) is a link to an "a-store" that I created through Amazon (as far as I know the "a" in "a-store" stands for Amazon, and not the usual things which are, of course, running through all your sophomoric humor lobes right now). You just click there, and it will take you to this collection of books that you can peruse and purchase--books that include some of the same ones I put in the slideshow--such as historian Watson Parker's works on 19th century Deadwood and the Black Hills, which are pretty much the freakin' non-bullshit bibles that serve as the foundation for doing rp in the Deadwood sim. I have also included some of Cathy Luchetti's books in both places.

I really like Cathy Luchetti--mostly what she does is collect stunning and intriguing and evocative historic images and use them to illustrate and supplement stories of western women, told in their own words, with a minimum of editorial mucking about. I am particularly fond of her chapter in the book "Women of the West," regarding Helen Wiser Stewart, a Nevada ranch wife of the 1870s-90s who took over running a ranching operation after her husband was murdered. It's great primary source material that contradicts an awful lot of our assumptions about life and gender in the old west. And it also gives us some other interesting insights, such as the fact that many ranches employed Native Americans as hands. And because these rely heavily on actual diaries, letters and personal memoirs written by genuine 19th century people of various socio-economic circumstances, they can give you an idea of actual 19th century speech patterns and vocabulary.

In addition to Ms. Luchetti's stuff, I selected a number of the other books specifically because of what they can do to challenge our assumptions:

Books about the U.S. military on the frontier that highlight the roles of infantry, Native American scouts, and the Black regiments, rather than just the white cavalry units;

Books about frontier military posts that show how most "forts" didn't look like the ones in "Fort Apache" or "F Troop," but instead were "open plan," un-walled posts;

Books on archaeology of mining towns and battle sites (specifically Virginia City's saloons, and Custer's defeat at the Little Bighorn), that offer hard evidence about what really happened in these places, rather than what the mythology indicates;

Books like Joe Rosa's attractive and highly readable "Age of the Gunfighter," which documents how the actual level of violence in the West--and how most gunfighters and lawmen actually used their guns--was different from what the movies portray.

I also threw in things like Phil Schreier's book about guns of the old west, because Phil is an ol' friend of mine and goddammit, he's a good guy and it makes me happy when friends sell their books.

A lot of what I included are nice little paperbacks with lots of photos and artwork--you know, the Osprey and GI series books and crap like that. Admittedly, these can be kind of expensive for their length, but hey, you can always buy a used one for cheaper. These provide nice visuals that I think could be of real help to designers of old west stuff in SL, plus they are great as bathroom reading being as they ain't so heavy that your legs are going to fall asleep from supporting the weight of them.

So I encourage you to check out what is offered, and if you have suggestions of other books that you think would be of interest to other people who stumble across this rambling mess, give me a holler.
~~~

Sunday, December 6, 2009

A Deadwood story -- is that any way to raise a child? part 3

~~~
So the two girls, they took off down the street, and lo and behold, who did they see up ahead, but none other than Sheriff Kanto--and he was lookin’ a mite soggy and more than a mite irritated. O’ course, they run and hid in one o’ their favorite hidin’ places, over at Mr. Sorrowman place. You remember Eugene Sorrowman, don’t you? He’s the undertaker. The girls actually laid in some coffins and pulled the lids shut after ‘em. Yep...they was more scared o’ havin’ to talk to JF’ than they was o’ laying inside a pine box with the lid closed.

Meanwhile, Dio happened to stop by at the Gem , partly to get a cuppa joe, and partly because she wanted to see if Clay had had any luck organizing a work party to dig out the bodies of some miners who had been killed in a mine collapse the day before. Nobody had been real enthusiastic about goin’ into a mine that had a history of collapsing , just to recover some dead fellers who were kinda sorta already buried in a way. But Clay was gonna try, and I’m sure you will recall that Dio had gone and developed a concern for seeing to it that deceased folks got laid to rest properly, so she had an interest in his progress on the issue..

While Dio was having Jemima pour her a cup of good, strong black coffee, Clay came down from his upstairs office.

“Dio, how are ya?” he called out in his usual cheerful manner.

“I'm well enough, Clay. What's goin on tonite?”

Clay frowned slightly. “Not much...had to postpone getting the bodies out of the mine... hey, ya seen Carrie Anne yet?”

“Nope. She ok?”

“Oh yes she's fine,” replied Clay. “However...ah...they pushed that little Alonzo kid in the water an’ he might have drowned...”

Dio looked up, stunned. “Who did this?!”

“Carrie Anne and Elizabeth...”

“When did this happen?”

“Earlier today before I rode into town...”

“Goddamit,” muttered Dio.

Clay gave a little shrug. “Well, Dio, ya know that boy... reckon he was annoyin’ them and they was foolin...”

Dio sighed. “Yeah, I know that the boy is a real goddam annoyance, but that ain't no cause to go an' put him at risk like that.”

"Well we ain't sure he is dead yet...we ain't found a body... just hopeful..."

Just as Dio was trying to figure out if Clay meant that people were hopeful of finding Alonzo alive, or if he meant they were hoping to find a cold, stiff and no longer annoying body, she saw Carrie Anne and Elizabeth go past outside the window. A wave of anger surged in her as they clearly saw her through the smudged and rippled glass, but then they took off down the street.

Dio was about to yell something profane and take off after them, but as she was reaching for the door-handle she heard Clay speak in an uncharacteristically soft voice:

“Jus so ya know...she’s afraid ya’re gonna boot her out.”

Dio stopped dead in her tracks for a moment, looked back at Clay...and feelin’ the anger subside somewhat, she nodded and turned to go out and follow the girls.

She could see them goin’ into the No. 10. As she entered, she could hear the two young’uns. panting, trying to catch their breath. The looked up as she came in and gently closed the door behind her. As she did so, Carrie Anne and Elizabeth backed away from her towards the far wall of the saloon.

Dio’s face was impassive, her voice was quiet. “How come you two see me in the Gem, and rush right on by without so much as a friendly wave, an’ take off runnin’ down here like somethin’ is puttin the fear o hellfire soup an brimstone puddin into yer hearts?”

Elizabeth looked desperate. “There was a man was going to kill us,” she offered in a feeble lil' voice.

Carrie Anne nodded somewhat tentatively. “We...we we're runnin' away from someone, an...”

Dio started to respond, “Lizabeth...I...”

But then she she just looked at the floor and shook her head sadly.

The girls looked at one another...Elizabeth was biting her lip, and Carrie Anne’s eyes had gone all dull an’ hopeless...finally she looked up at Dio and spoke.

“It's a long story, an' Mr Clay says we won't hang for it, but we're worried Mr Kanto might kill us anyways...”

Dio looked perplexed. “You were running away from JF...from Sheriff Kanto?”

Elizabeth could only mumble something about, “at least Mister JF isn’t dead, at least Missus Kanto won’t kill me...”

Realizing that Elizabeth was going to be of little help in this phase of things, Carrie Anne went on, “We were runnin' from Mr Kanto earlier, after we thought we murdered someone...”

Dio’s face still betrayed no emotion. Elizabeth began to hope that perhaps Clay hadn't told Dio anything, and thought maybe Carrie Anne was saying too much...but her friend seemed inclined to continue the explanation.

“We hid in the children's coffins that the undertaker has...”

“The undertaker has A LOT of children-sized coffins, Miss Dio! Did you know that?” Elizabeth added eagerly.

Carrie Anne nodded her head, "it's true.”

Elizabeth decided to run with this new direction for the conversation, hoping that Dio would find it so engaging that she would plumb forget about the rest of the situation. “I always wonder, why are we born if we are just going to die... don't you wonder that Miss Dio?”

The woman in buckskins closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as if her head hurt really, really fuckin’ bad. And then finally after a long pause, she spoke again, in a voice that was low and quiet, but hard as flint in winter.

“Hush up. An’ think real goddam hard before ye say another word. Now, rather than goin' on with anymore clabber about coffins, an Mr. JF an all that cocktwaddle....ye'd best fess up an' tell me what happened.”

Right then, Roku happened to walk in.

“Howdy Dio, howdy girls...”

Carrie Anne vaguely hoped that Dio would get distracted talking with her friend, and would forget about her and Elizabeth. She quickly saw this was a forlorn hope as Dio said without takin’ her eyes off the girls:

“Hello Roku. You might as well listen to this. These two have got somethin’ they need to tell me about.”

Elizabeth blinked a way some tears and then took a gulp and finally blurted out, “It was my fault, I started it, please don't give Carrie away!”

Carrie Anne clutched her friend’s hand, and Elizabeth gripped it tightly, even as she felt a few tears trickle down her cheeks and some snot comin’ out of her nose, which she wiped with the sleeve of her free arm.

Dio sighed. “First off, I ain't gonna let Roku toss ye in the river, and I ain't gonna make Carrie Anne go away...nothin as ill as that...but ye need to stop blowin smoke up m' ass an tell me what truly happened.”

Carrie Anne looked at Elizabeth a moment and then gripped her hand a lil' bit tighter (as if that was even possible). “We pushed Alonzo in the Whitewood creek...and...and he might be dead. Mr. Kanto went to find him...and well we didn’t see them for a while, and we worried Mr. Kanto mighta drowned too...but then we saw him down the street by the bridge, and he was all wet ‘n mad lookin’...so that was why we were hidin’ and runnin’...”

Dio’s expression still had not changed. “Thank ye, Carrie Anne. I appreciate ye tellin’ me straight-up like that.

Roku however, was frowning. “That was a damned wicked thing to do, Carrie Anne!"

Dio did not agree or disagree with Roku’s assessment. Instead she simply stated, “Now is the opportunity for ye to endeavor to tell me why this seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Elizabeth looked at Carrie Anne, and then offered the rationale, “Wellll....Alonzo is a pain and shoves his rat in our faces and follows us everywhere...”

“Yep sounds like ‘Lonzo allright, “ agreed Dio. “But why did ye push the poor lil’ puke in the drink?”

“Well, we were down by the creek,” continued Elizabeth, “and he comes up and then he was just standing there for the longest time saying nothing, just staring and staring at us, and then he turned...So we pushed him a little, I did first and he went a step forward and then...and we...um...just pushed too hard I guess.”

“Mr Clay promised we wouldn’t hang for it,” added Carrie Anne. “He wouldn’t give us any money to run away, though...”

For some reason, Elizabeth decided this would be a good time to expound on that aspect of the adventure:

“No, we were thinking about blowing up the bank but.... “ Her voice trailed off as she realized that this information probably wasn’t improving their bargaining position.

But Dio was not looking at Elizabeth. Her eyes were boring into Carrie Anne.

“Now Hon, runnin’ away ain't somethin’ that a Kuhr does.”

“Dio, I think Elizabeth is a bad influence on Carrie Anne,” said Roku in a harsh tone. “I don’t think Carrie Anne should hang around with her...she is corruptin’ Carrie Anne.”

CarrieAnne and Elizabeth looked at one another in surprise. “I...I never have been in any trouble before,” said Elizabeth in a weak lil’ voice. She blinked away some fresh tears, and Carrie Anne patted her friend on the back. Elizabeth was sobbing harder and moaned, “This is the first bad thing I ever did and now I can't even have a friend!”

Carrie Anne whispered, “'It's ok, I been beat lots, I’ll tell Mr. Kanto it was all my doin'..."

But Elizabeth just sobbed even harder, “I said it was my fault! I SAID IT!”

Dio looked at Elizabeth for a moment or two, and although she did not visibly show it, she was considerably moved by the intensity and sincerity of the child’s anguish. "Roku,” she said quietly, “It sounds to me like both these gals made some bad choices...I don’t think tis fair to say one was a bad influence on the other. I’m thinkin’ they both need to be accepting’ the consequences of what they have done, but I don’t think sayin’ they can’t be friends cuz o’ this makes much sense.”

Roku shrugged. “Well, ah warned Carrie Anne to be good or ah would drop her in the crik--ya don’t be pushin’ folks in a rushin’ stream like that. Carrie Anne. ah knows ya knows bettah than that. This is some serious shit, Dio.”

“I pretty much agree with ye there,” answered Dio, even though in the back of her mind she was wondering if the girls would find it oddly inconsistent that Roku would threaten to toss them in the creek for doing something like pushing someone into that same creek. Nonetheless, she went on. “But I think they both shoulda known better. Did either o’ ye stop to think that dirt-eatin clotpoll 'Lonzo don’t know how to swim? Don’t ye know that just the other night that feckless, lackwit chile fell in the drink all on his own, without no one propellin’ him thus, an’ Mr. Seth had to jump in an’ fish him out?”

Elizabeth, her body still heaving with silent sobs, looked up:

“N..n..n..ooo....”

Carrie Anne looked glumly at her hands and said softly, “No, ma'am. I didn't know." She was starting to wish they would just beat her and get it over with.

“Ah don’t thinks these little urchins know how much troubles they is in,” snarled Roku.

Dio sighed. “I reckon I could beat the tar outta both of ye....but like Carrie Anne says, she's been thru' that b'fore, an’ I ain’t sure it accomplishes much other than makin' a lotta noise. An’ I could let Roku toss y'all in the crik, but knowin’ Roku and knowin’ you young’uns, it would probbly jus’ somehow end up bein’ fun fer y'all...”

Roku folder her arms across her formidable chest and glared at Carrie Anne. “Well, mebbe ah ain’t in any mood to be tossin’ anyone in the crik. Ah am just soooo disappointed in you, Carrie Anne.”

Carrie Anne had been trying very, very hard to not cry, but now she felt a tear slip down her face. “I'm sorry Miss Roku."

“I do believe,” said Dio, “that Roku has hit the goddam nail on its flat lil ol head...she is disappointed in ye...an’ dammit, I'm disappointed in ye both as well. I mean, Christ’s bootlaces, gals, I'd expect this kind o’ dirt-eatin’ stupid-ass tomfoolery from the likes o’ that lil peckerhead in petticoats, Addi...but goddammit, I expected better from you two.”

At first, Carrie Anne was surprised that the entire time Dio was speaking, she did not raise her voice. She did not wave her arms around or make a huge scene like some adults would have done. But the more Dio went on in that hard and even tone, the worse it felt. Carrie Anne dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands trying to keep herself focused on the words, thinking to herself, “whatever you do, don't cry...”

And she didn’t cry. But she did suddenly bolt for the door and dash out into the street.

“Carrie Anne, come back heah now!!!” shouted Roku.

Right then, even as they were staring in the direction in which Carrie Anne had just disappeared, Clay came strolling into the saloon.

“Hey Dio, howdy Roku! Say I got some good news for ya...well, sorta good from a certain point o’ view, I reckon. They found that little shithead Alonzo, wanderin’ along Sherman Street, drippin wet with his soggy pet rat and all...no worse for wear!”

Dio breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank ye Clay, I am greatly appreciative o’ that intelligence. I am vastly relieved to hear that. Now Elizabeth, where is yer Aunt Marrant? Is she about?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No ma’am. She has gone to Gayville, running some errands with Mrs. Kanto.”

“Very well,” said Dio. “Roku, I ain't sure what to do about ‘Lizabeth..she ain't my responsibility--it’ll be up to her Aunt to decide her punishment...but in the meantime, I would be greatly obliged if’n ye would keep an eye on her fer the time bein’....I have to go find Carrie Anne.”

As she started to leave, Elizabeth spoke up. “Miss Dio?”

Yes, Elizabeth?”

“I am very sorry and want you to know I never did anything like this before.”

“Well, chile, sorry is a place to start. But you will do what Miz Roku says, cuz now I needs to go find Carrie Anne.”

Elizabeth stared at her feet. “She's hiding because she's afraid you'll make her leave.”

Dio nodded. She had heard that before.

Roku pointed at the door. “Well go on! You go find her! If Elizabeth moves, ah will probably shoot her.”

Ignoring Elizabeth’s horrified expression, Dio went out into the street. She asked a few people along Main if they had seen a small, blond-haired girl running by, but no one had. Even so, Dio had a pretty good idea where to find her.

In addition to working as a security man for Clay at the Gem, Silver also ran a livery stable on the edge of town--in fact he lived in the loft over the stable. Knowing that Carrie Anne was fond of Silver and the horses, Dio figured it would be a good place to start in her search. Sure enough, it proved to be a good place to end the search as well, because Dio found the girl up in the loft, crouched behind Silver's bunk.

Carrie Anne looked up in fear as Dio cleared her throat.

“Carrie Anne,” said Dio in the same flat, serious tone she had used before, “what did I tell ye about bein' a Kuhr?”

The girl blinked for a moment, surprised that she was not being yelled at or thrashed. Then she answered simply, “you don't run away...”

Dio shook her head. “No Hon. Ye don't have it quite right. It's that WE don’t run away. We make mistakes. Bein’ a Kuhr ain't about bein’ perfect. But we face the consequences o’ what we have done.”

The significance of Dio’s emphasis on the word “we” was starting to sink in with Carrie Anne. “Yes'm. You know, we weren’t tryin' to hurt Alonzo...”

For the first time in a while, Dio smiled. “Well ye managed not to, Hon. Right after ye ran out, Mr. Clay came along an’ informed us that ‘Lonzo seems to have fished hisself outta the crik with no major damage done...him an’ that mangy rat o’ his are in good condition. The ridiculous mud-eatin’ puke might not be able to swim, but apparently he can float just fine.”

Carrie Anne smiled slightly, glad that they hadn’t in fact murdered Alonzo...at the same time she suddenly felt some small irritation as she realized that he would still be around, annoying her and Elizabeth.

But Dio was not done discussing things yet. “Look Hon, lord knows I made more mistakes than I made o’ good choices. But one thing I know I have done what wasn't no mistake was askin’ ye to come be famly with me. Yeah, ye made a boneheaded, ill-thought-out mistake...but hell’s britches, I reckon that makes ye more like a member o’ my famly than most other things. Just remember above all, when we makes mistakes we face up to it an’ take our lumps. Comprenday?”

“Yes'm.”

Dio straightened up and looked around the loft. “Ye know what I like about Mr. Silver's stable here?”

“What?”

“Settin’ on the edge o’ the loft door an lookin’ out at Deadwood crik. Come on, Hon.”

Dio swung open the big loft door and they sat on the edge, their legs dangling out into space, watching the fast-running creek, swollen with the recent rains.

After a spell, Dio looked at the girl next to her. “Yer sorry about what ye did, ain’t ye?

“Yes, Dio.”

“What do ye think I oughtta do to be makin sure ye don't do this kinda thing agin?”

“You can lock me in a cellar.”

“I ain't got a cellar...an’ b‘sides, what would that teach ye?”

“Oh, that's what my pa always did when I was bad. It taught me to be afraid of the dark

“Well, I ain't yer Dad, an’ bein’ afraid o’ the dark ain't nothin’ useful...they's a lot o’ important shit that folks gotta do in the dark. An’ like I said before, I ain't a gonna hit ye. It jus’ don’t set well with me to be hittin’ someone who is a lot smaller than I am.

“I don't know then...I don't know what you should do.”

“Well, Hon we jus’ gotta make sure tis somethin’ useful an’ educational...and oh, by the way, I want ye to keep bein' friends with 'Lizabeth...ye kin keep seein' her...but you have to give me a promise...”

Carrie Anne nodded. “What do you want me to promise?”

Dio grinned a little grin. “When the chile is about to do somethin’ that you know ain't right...ye gotta tell her to knock it off. An’ if’n she persists, ye have m' leave to bop her one. Will ye undertake to do that?”

"Yes’m. I promise"

“Anyhow, another possible punishment I had thought about was maybe you wouldn’t be allowed to ride yer pony fer a few weeks or so...but if yer on the path to bein a true Kuhr, ye'll probbly jus’ sneak off to do it, an’ I ain't a gonna put ye in that position.” Dio laughed a little, obviously thinking about somethin’ from her own childhood.

Then she got serious again. “No Hon, what I am a gonna do is that once a week fer the next month, yer gonna get all the linens an dirty clothes from the orphanage an’ take em to the laundry an’ give all a scrubbin’...an whilst yer scrubbin the stuff from the orphanage, I want ye to be thinkin’ about the young’uns who was last usin’ em--especially Alonzo, an’ how he ain't got no one. Cuz ye know, mebbe that's one o’ the reasons why he acts in the irritatin' fashion what he does: bein’ without kin or anyone to care about him.

Carrie Anne wrinkled her nose, knowing how grubby the linens would be...and then she frowned feeling bad for Alonzo.

“Ye know how to do proper washin’ with hot water an' lye soap an' all?” asked Dio.

“Yes’m. I always did the laundry, as soon as I was old enough.”

“Yep me too...was the only woman thing m' ma ever taught me about.”

“I should go get started," said Carrie Anne.

“Yep, let's go.”
~~~

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Is there such a thing as "good" roleplaying? -- differing styles of rp in SL

~~~
Marrant Vita's funeral--a nice example
of real time interactive rp that worked


My friend Marrant Vita is cranking out posts like crazy on her excellent new blog--it strikes me that bless her heart, she 's been storing up some things and mulling them over, and by golly, now she's overflowing with interesting stuff that she has got to say.

One of her recent discussions was about "what makes a good roleplayer?" It's a very thoughtful piece, based on her long-term, on-going experience with roleplaying in SL. And it really got me thinking about something that had been eating at me for a while, and I figured it was time to say something.

I can be pretty judgmental sometimes.

*waits for the gasps of shock and surprise to die down*

Yeah. I know.

But seriously, I tend to be that way about a lot of things, including roleplaying and roleplayers. Like a lot of folks, I have a tendnecy to think--and sometimes to say--things like "that's really good rp there," or "you're a great rp'er," or "that's some bad rp," or occasionally, "your hopelessly self-absorbed approach to roleplaying has produced such spectacularly indifferent results that it will take me a while to find the proper term to describe it since "wholesale shit-sucking waste of time and effort" is far too generous.

But for the most part, that's not really being fair. I realized this the other day when I was given a notecard about a situation that happened in Hogwarts. Judging by the chat that was copied in the notecard, one of the roleplayers descended into a screaming, obnoxious shit-fit because the other people he was interacting with didn't adapt their style of roleplaying to his style.

Before being banned, he stated in no uncertain terms that he felt that all the other people in the sim were terrible roleplayers, that he was the only one present who knew how to roleplay, and that he was in fact, just about the greatest roleplayer, ever.

Totally aside from the fact that, yes, this particular individual as a person (distinct from their qualities as a roleplayer) is clearly a bilious, narcissistic, crap-spewing pecker-faced baboon, as a roleplayer they should not be accused of doing bad rp (other than going out of character and turning into a flaming asshole in open chat). The reality of the situation was that no one involved should be painted as "bad" roleplayers--but neither should anyone claim to be "great" or even "good" at the art form. Why? Because the conflict was essentially over style.

There are different kinds of roleplaying you can find in SL and other venues. In this case in Hogwarts, the conflict seems to have been initiated by this one individual who prefers to do an extreme form of "paragraph" rp.

"Paragraph" roleplaying is a style that I assume has its origins in purely text-based rp. In this form of rp the players not only write lines of dialogue--as well as some short "emotes" such as "smiles," or "frowns" or "scratches crotch with considerable enthusiasm"--they actually write out an entire paragraph or paragraphs detailing their inner thoughts along with their facial expressions and extended dialogue. Practitioners of this style also tend to include elements of physical action combined with extensive descriptive passages such as "casually brushes away the loose strand of golden blond hair that the gentle breeze had pulled out of place on her otherwise perfectly coiffed hair," or "walks purposefully across the floor, the staccato clacking of his boot heels on the rough planks mingling with the sparkling noise of the silver jingle-bobs on his large-roweled, Spanish-style spurs."

Logically, in a text-based rp you have to include all this Bulwer-Lyttonesque type prose in order to compensate for the lack of actual visual evidence of what is going on or how the player-writers are imagining the scene. In text-based rp, if you don't tell the other players that someone has a huge rack of epic proportions or is pointing a large blued-steel revolver of a foreign pattern at you, how the fuck are you gonna know?

Now of course, in a 3-D environment like SL, you don't have to put everything into words in the same way. You can simply look at your screen and see that the gal over yonder has temptation bumps that make the Sierra Nevadas look like molehills, and that, yep, she has got a really big fucking gun out and is about to blow your punkin' head into applesauce. Unless, of course, you're still waiting for everything to rez, in which case, you're just boned. And you also might as well say fuck trying to type out paragraphs at that point, because chat is probably lagging as well.

Seriously though, paragraph style of rp in SL is a choice, not a necessity. But it can enhance the experience for some people, and if you enjoy doing it, then hey, knocketh thyself out.

It's not bad or good, it's just a certain way to play the game.

Similarly, there is a style of rp that some folks call "RP Lite." This version of roleplaying is the kind where, yeah you sort of have a character, and maybe you thought about a back story and maybe you didn't, but usually you have taken on some kind of "role" like sheriff or old-west pole-dancer. People in this form of rp typically are somewhat flexible about staying "in character" and are more casual in their approach to speech patterns and vocabulary, including the use of LOL's and other internet-speech abbreviations.

Again, I would argue it's not good or bad--it is just what individual players are comfortable with. However, there are places where this style of rp is not accepted, as it can distract others who are playing in a different style. Most places where it is not acceptable will make that clear in their rules, which is why players looking into a new sim should, by gawd, read the fucking rules. If there are none, or they don't mention things like "must stay in character" or "no OOC in open chat," then you may have hit on a place where RP Lite is going to work.

Finally there is the style of roleplaying that I call "real-time interactive" rp. This form of rp has really just recently evolved in virtual worlds, though I think stylistically it owes a great deal to the traditions of theater (particularly improv), and first-person interpretation in museums and history sites. In this style you the players perform more as an ensemble, interacting and playing off each other and developing situations in almost real time (obviously real time interaction is not completely possible due to the fact that most of us don't type as fast as we speak--plus you add in lag and a convo can take forfuckingever). But it is as close to real-time as we can get.

The players using this style concentrate mostly on short, quickly written pieces of dialogue that sounds like natural conversation as much as possible. As Marrant points out, spelling is not always as important as getting an idea across quickly. There is give and take, and if you wait too long, or take a while trying to generate a long paragraph, you often will get left behind.

Yes, there is a time and place for longer soliloquies, but they are the exception. And the emphasis is on the speech itself, not added descriptive elements. Mind you, players in this style do utilize some necessary and useful "emotes" such as "smiles slightly" or "grins like an idiot." Sometimes the emotes being used may be downright poetic, such "tries to smile bravely, even as a single tear etches its way down her face." But for the most part, the players only write out what is needed to compensate for the limitations that still remain as to what visual clues and actions are possible in SL. Furthermore, inner thoughts are eschewed (since nobody should be able to read your goddam thoughts anyhow).

I will freely admit this is my favorite style. But does that mean this is good rp, or that it is better than other styles? No. It's just what I happen to enjoy, which, considering that my background includes some theater and living history stuff, should come as no surprise.

Now I will tell you I firmly believe that the different styles are not mutually exclusive. Someone can come into a sim where real-time interactive rp predominates, and adapt their own personal form of rp to what is there. The only thing is, you have to be willing to make some adjustments--maybe break your writing into shorter segments and pay attention to what is going on around you so that you don't get too far behind. I have known some paragraph people who are real fun to rp with, but when they are wrapped up in cranking out a long segment of text, the interaction can kinda break down. Especially if they have their typing anim turned off, you have no idea if they are busy writing, have fallen asleep or are frozen up from lag. Other players tend to wander off and then the paragraph style player gets pissed off because no one stayed to hear what they had to say.

Likewise if a real-time interactive rp'er goes into a place where they like to do a lot of paragraph style, you need to slow down, wait for people to finish writing, and maybe go ahead and expand your own writing as well. I know I try to do a better job with controlling my typos when I'm around paragraph rp'ers, because what the hell, everything is going to take longer anyway, so why not try to fix shit?

So instead of saying something is "good" or "bad," or it's "great" or it "sucks huge purple-veined donkey schwanstuckers," let's ask if a particular bit of roleplaying "feels comfortable, or "fun." We can also ask, "was it successful?"

That's a topic for another conversation another time. But for right now, let me leave you with a snippet of some rp that I thought was successful.

This was from the time when Dr. Brooklyn Alcott, 9 months pregnant, is in a buggy accident and goes into labor:

[18:39] JanMae Jun: The head is crowning some more
[18:39] Brooklyn Alcott *throws her head back down, her hair soaked in blood and tears*
[18:39] Diogenes Kuhr: baby's head is showin Brook, yer doin it
[18:39] Silver85 Koba *cuts down a piece of the curtains and places them next to JanMae and takes some of the bloody pieces of cloth and throws them away*
[18:40] JanMae Jun: Push again, Brook *presses firmly but carefully on Brook's upper belly*
[18:40] Brooklyn Alcott *closes her eyes and prays for strength*
[18:40] JanMae Jun *gasps* Brook! Come on, you can do it.
[18:40] Diogenes Kuhr: dammit this would be easier on her if she warn't on her back, but we can't do much with them broke legs
[18:40] Brooklyn Alcott *musters up all her courage and strength...for her baby......*
[18:41] JanMae Jun: Dio, oh, lord, the baby's head is out
[18:41] Silver85 Koba: Want me to hold her up?
[18:41] JanMae Jun: Brook - a little more -- you can do it
[18:41] Diogenes Kuhr: the cord ain't round the neck is it?
[18:41] JanMae Jun: Dio, we need to clear the baby's mouth - check the cord
[18:41] Brooklyn Alcott *falls back on the table....exhausted and scared*
[18:41] JanMae Jun: Seth - please hold her head and shoulders so she doesn't fall off the bed.
[18:42] JanMae Jun: she's still very woozy
[18:42] Diogenes Kuhr: *peers at the little head and scoops in the mouth with her finger*
[18:42] Brooklyn Alcott *blinks at the man*
[18:42] Diogenes Kuhr: nope cord is fine *gently supports the head*
[18:42] Silver85 Koba *gently leans in behind Brook and grabs a hold of her*
[18:42] Brooklyn Alcott *body shakes uncontrollably*
[18:42] JanMae Jun *feels another contraction mounting* Push, brook! Push!
[18:43] Silver85 Koba: Remember me? *winks at Brook, trying to have a happy expression*
[18:43] JanMae Jun *reaches down to guide the baby's shoulder out*
[18:43] Diogenes Kuhr: here comes the shoulders, Brook!
[18:43] JanMae Jun: come on, come on now
[18:43] Diogenes Kuhr: Hon this is the big part, yer doin fine!
[18:43] JanMae Jun: Push, Brook! Stay with us! Push ---
[18:43] Brooklyn Alcott *screams as loud as she can, which is just under a whisper but pushes against the man's hands*
[18:43] JanMae Jun *tugs and pulls the other shoulder out*
[18:44] Diogenes Kuhr: *cups her hands under the head and and keeps supporting the baby as it starts to slide*
[18:44] Brooklyn Alcott *tears flowing like a waterfall, her body battered and bloody and in excruciating pain she pushesssssssssssss*
[18:44] Silver85 Koba *grits his teeth as he fight to keep Brook in place*
[18:44] JanMae Jun: *helps the baby as it slips out fully*
[18:44] Janmae Jun: Dio - do you still have that razor?
[18:44] Brooklyn Alcott *gasps and groans*
[18:44] JanMae Jun clears the baby's mouth area again*
[18:44] Silver85 Koba: In my back pocket
[18:44] Diogenes Kuhr: *places the baby head down slightly to allow it drain out some, over Brooks leg*
[18:45] JanMae Jun gasps: It's a girl, Brook! A girl!
[18:45] Brooklyn Alcott *musters up a slight smile and cries harder*
[18:45] JanMae Jun: *smiles as the baby cries out, a welcome sound to everyone*
[18:45] Diogenes Kuhr: ok Brook, gonna need to push out yer placenta in a bit don' take a goddam nap jus yet
[18:45] Silver85 Koba smiles "i'll be dammed"
[18:46] Brooklyn Alcott *spits up blood*
[18:46] Diogenes Kuhr: Jan mae let me get some thread fer tyin off the cord
[18:46] JanMae Jun: Seth - I need that razor
[18:46] Brooklyn Alcott *lifts her head a bit more to see her beautiful lil bundle*
[18:46] Silver85 Koba *looks down on Brook seeing the blood* "Something is wrong"
[18:46] JanMae Jun: * grabs a bolt of string from the shelf behind her*
[18:46] Silver85 Koba: reach for it . it is in my back pocket
[18:46] Diogenes Kuhr: * looks through the medical kit for sinew or suture thread*
[18:47] JanMae Jun *reaches filthy hands into Seth's pocket*
[18:47] JanMae Jun *hands Dio some string* - this will do, if you can't find any other
[18:47] Diogenes Kuhr: nah I got proper suture thread here
[18:47] Brooklyn Alcott *eyes roll around and she tries to whisper*
[18:47] Brooklyn Alcott: mmmmmmisssssss
[18:47] Diogenes Kuhr: I kin feel her crampin' agin...
[18:47] JanMae Jun: Dio, if you'll take care of the cord, I'll help her push
[18:47] Silver85 Koba *looks down on Brook, sees her lips move*
[18:48] Diogenes Kuhr: time to push the placenta out ain't it?
[18:48] JanMae Jun: Brook? Come on, hon, you're almost finished.
[18:48] Brooklyn Alcott: myyyyyyyy
[18:48] Silver85 Koba: What did you say Brook?
[18:48] Brooklyn Alcott *bubbles of blood form in her mouth as she speaks*
[18:48] Diogenes Kuhr: *steadies the baby lying across Brooks belly and guides the cord*
[18:48] JanMae Jun *notices Brook has suddenly gone very pale*
[18:48] JanMae Jun *reaches for Brook's arm to feel her pulse*.
[18:48] Silver85 Koba wipes the blood away from Brook's mouth with his sleeve*
[18:48] JanMae Jun: Dio, her pulse is very faint -- she's still losing a lot of blood from the inside.
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott * talks soo low its hard to hear her*
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott: baaaby
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott *gasps for air*
[18:49] Diogenes Kuhr: just a minute Hon give us another push here
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott: seeeeeeeeeeee
[18:49] JanMae Jun *wipes her eyes with her shirtsleeve*
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott *shakes head*
[18:49] Silver85 Koba leans down to hear Brook better
[18:49] JanMae Jun: Brook?
[18:49] Brooklyn Alcott nnnnnnooooooooo
[18:49] JanMae Jun: Hold on, Brook!
[18:50] Brooklyn Alcott:* shakes head and cries harder*
[18:50] Brooklyn Alcott: babyyyyyyyyyyy
[18:50] JanMae Jun* lays the baby on Brook's tummy and reassures her *
[18:50] Diogenes Kuhr: Jan Mae that after birthing out yet?
[18:50] JanMae Jun: Brook? Stay with us! Look - here's your baby ...
[18:50] Brooklyn Alcott *blinks at the pinkness laying on her belly*
[18:50] JanMae Jun: oh, god, Dio - there's so much blood.
[18:51] Brooklyn Alcott *tries to raise her hands but they won't move*
[18:51] Brooklyn Alcott *blinks through the tears*
[18:51] JanMae Jun *reaches to pull the rest of the sac out, guiding it since Brook can't push*
[18:51] Diogenes Kuhr: allright here it comes *ties one piece of thread on the umbilical near the child's stomach*
[18:51] Diogenes Kuhr: gimme yer razor agin Seth
[18:51] Brooklyn Alcott *looking down at her newborn as she feels soo light and weak*
[18:51] Silver85 Koba: JanMae got it
[18:52] JanMae Jun: *hands Dio the bloody razor*
[18:52] Diogenes Kuhr: I jus gotta trim that thread off there so I can tie another piece on
[18:52] Brooklyn Alcott:* looks up at the man*
[18:52] JanMae Jun: Brook?
[18:52] Brooklyn Alcott: pleeeeeeeezeeeeeeeee
[18:52] Silver85 Koba *looks down on brook trying to smile*
[18:52] JanMae Jun *reaches to feel her pulse again*
[18:52] Diogenes Kuhr: allright *cuts the thread and puts the razor in her teeth to hold it while she ties the second knot a short way from the the first one*
[18:52] Brooklyn Alcott: baaaabyyyyyyy
[18:52] Brooklyn Alcott: mahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:53] Diogenes Kuhr: Seth hand me that whiskey bottle behind ye
[18:53] JanMae Jun: Her breathing is so shallow ...
[18:53] Janmae Jun: Brook, look at me, Brook --
[18:53] Brooklyn Alcott * gasps*
[18:53] Brooklyn Alcott naaaaaaaammmmmmmmmeeeee
[18:53] JanMae Jun: Mah isn't here, hon - Look at me -- stay with me!
[18:53] Brooklyn Alcott: dahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:53] Brooklyn Alcott: liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
[18:53] Brooklyn Alcott: llaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:53] Silver85 Koba *pulls out his own whiskey flask and hands it over* "This is stronger stuff. will work better I think"
[18:53] Diogenes Kuhr: *takes the bottle from Seth pulls the cork and splashes whiskey on the blade*
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott: dahhhhhhhhhh
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott: liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
[18:54] Diogenes Kuhr: allright Hon hold the cord out there fer me
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott: lllllllllllllllllllllaahhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:54] JanMae Jun *holds the cord with one hand*
[18:54] Diogenes Kuhr: ready?
[18:54] Diogenes Kuhr: *cuts the cord in between the two knots with Seth's razor*
[18:54] JanMae Jun: *checks Brook's heartbeat on her chest with the other*
[18:54] You: Brook?
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott *tears streaming down...feeling woozey and lightheaded....trying to get them to hear her baby's name...........*
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott: dahhhhhhhh
[18:55] Silver85 Koba * tries to make sense of what brook is saying*
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott: liiiiiiiiiilahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott: mahhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott *sputters more blood*
[18:55] JanMae Jun: Brook - you stay with me now, you hear?
[18:55] Diogenes Kuhr: *wipes the cutthroat razor on the sheet and closes it with one hand and hands it back to Seth smiling*
[18:55] Silver85 Koba: I think she is trying to tell us a name
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott dahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
[18:55] JanMae Jun *leans over closely to Brook's face*
[18:55] JanMae Jun: Dahlia?
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott weakly smiles at the man*
[18:55] JanMae Jun: I think she said Dahlia.
[18:56] JanMae Jun: Brook? *looks at Brook's blank stare*
[18:56] Silver85 Koba *takes back the razor, smiling back at Dio*
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott *uses her last bit of strength to nod*
[18:56] Diogenes Kuhr: *Folds up the placenta and mess in towel and places it beneath the cot out of the way*
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: give
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: Mah
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: Mahhhhhhh
[18:56] JanMae Jun: oh, sweet Jesus - Brook?
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: give
[18:56] Silver85 Koba *looks down* "Dahlia? is that it?"
[18:56] Diogenes Kuhr: Brook? think ye kin nurse any?
[18:56] JanMae Jun *strokes Brook's forehead*-
[18:56] JanMae Jun: Dio -- she's fading again'
[18:56] Silver85 Koba: Give Mah what Brook?
[18:56] JanMae Jun: her pulse - I can barely feel it.
[18:57] Diogenes Kuhr: *softly * goddammit
[18:57] JanMae Jun *wipes Brook's pale face and tries to listen to what she is trying to say.*
[18:57] Brooklyn Alcott *head falls back....her eyes roll back...she gasps her last breath.....and lies there motionless, no air escaping her lungs ......as she fades away quietly*
[18:57] JanMae Jun: *speaks softly* Please, Brook - Don't leave us.
[18:57] Diogenes Kuhr: *wraps another clean towel around the baby and tries to hold it where Brook can see it*
[18:57] JanMae Jun gasps: No ... Brook!
[18:58] Silver85 Koba *feels Brook's body go limp*
[18:58] Diogenes Kuhr: *gently lifts Brook's hand and softly places it against the baby's head*
[18:58] JanMae Jun *checks her neck, her chest, her wrist ...*
[18:58] Silver85 Koba: Come on Brook *start to shake her slightly*
[18:58] JanMae Jun *weeps and keeps checking for a pulse that isn't there*.
[18:58] JanMae Jun: No...
[18:58] JanMae Jun: *the baby cries*
[18:58] Silver85 Koba *looks up* "Anything?"
[18:59] Diogenes Kuhr: Seth...would ye oblige me by closin' her eyes?
[18:59] JanMae Jun *wipes her face on her sleeve and shakes her head*
[18:59] JanMae Jun: oh, Dio -- how can this be?
[18:59] Silver85 Koba * nods and slowly drags his hand over Brook's face closing her eyes and gently easing her back down on the pillow*
[18:59] Diogenes Kuhr: *softly almost a whisper* sonofabitch...dammit, where we gonna find someone to nurse this tadpole?
[19:00] Silver85 Koba: Maybe that was what she was trying to tell us
[19:00] Silver85 Koba: She said something about Mah?
[19:00] Diogenes Kuhr: *cradles the newborn*
[19:00] JanMae Jun: Mah is her cousin, but Mah is no nursemaid.
[19:00] Diogenes Kuhr: I think she knew she was goin...an she wants Mah to raise the babe
[19:01] Silver85 Koba *nods* "Yeah I think so to"
[19:02] JanMae Jun: surely there is a new mother in town who will nurse her
[19:02] Silver85 Koba *takes off his hat, holding it against his chest while looking down on Brook*
[19:02] Diogenes Kuhr: *Cradles the baby swaying gently, tears welling up in her eyes*
[19:02] JanMae Jun *looks at Brook's body in disbelief.*
[19:02] Silver85 Koba: Damn shame!
[19:02] JanMae Jun *covers Brook's body with the rest of the sheet that Seth ripped up earlier.
[19:03] JanMae Jun: Dio -- can you find Mah? Oh, gracious, me, she will be dumbfounded.
[19:04] Diogenes Kuhr: *looks up distracted briefly*
[19:04] Diogenes Kuhr: huh? oh..my word, yes
[19:04] JanMae Jun *turns to Seth* Thank you for helping.
[19:04] JanMae Jun *feels tears welling up again*
[19:04] Silver85 Koba: Don't mention it.
[19:04] Diogenes Kuhr: here Hon will you take the chile?
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott is Offline
[19:04] JanMae Jun: *takes the infant carefully and holds her close*
[19:05] Diogenes Kuhr: *Looks at the pale, now peaceful face of Brooklyn Fargis*
[19:05] JanMae Jun: Seth - could you notify Mr. Deerhunter or whomever can arrange a funeral *feels out of sorts and doesn't know what to do with Brook gone so suddenly*
[19:05] Diogenes Kuhr: see ye in the happy huntin' ground Hon...*smiles sadly*
[19:06] Silver85 Koba: Of course. I'll see to it that she gets a proper burial
[19:06] Diogenes Kuhr: ye lived well and dammit ye died well too
[19:06] JanMae Jun *looks at Brook again and squeezes her hand softly: Thank you, Brook. You were like a big sister to me.
[19:07] Diogenes Kuhr: *shakes her head slightly and then gets a determined hard look on her face* right
[19:07] Diogenes Kuhr: well
[19:07] Diogenes Kuhr: life does goddam well go on
~~~