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

~~~

A Deadwood story -- is that any way to raise a child? part 2

~~~

Please note that the following storyline and dialogue did not originate with me. It is the work of Carrie Anne Dubrona, Claytanic Kungler and Marrant Vita (Elizabeth). I just edited the material, rewrote some of it, and fleshed it out to fit in with the other segments of this story.

These three people have been some of my favorite folks to roleplay with in Deadwood. They epitomize what I mean when I talk about good ensemble rp, where the actors creatively play off each other with natural give-and-take dialogue. No one feels compelled to be the center of attention and bog down the narrative flow with long Bulwer-Lytton style multi-paragraph emotes, or screaming, scenery chewing mega-drama.

What they do is always shot through with subtle nuance, humor and humanity. Sometimes the dialogue they generate is so startlingly real, and the emotions are so genuine, it can be very affecting. This is also a good example of rp with people playing children that works and is not creepy. There are some folks who have real issues with child avatars in any context, and I think examples like this show how people playing children can contribute to good rp and storytelling.

Hey, creepy-ass motherfuckers are creepy-ass motherfuckers, whether they are wearing an adult avatar or a child one. Likewise, good decent folks are good decent folks, regardless of the appearance of the avatar they choose to wear. It's what is in the heart and mind of the typist and how they behave that makes the difference. I refer you to a very excellent post related to this subject by Marrant, posted at her newly established and highly readable blog.

***

So anyhow...I was gonna tell you about the time when Carrie Anne, along with her friend Elizabeth, damned near drowned this inexpressibly annoying lil’ boy named Alonzo...this all happened after Carrie Anne had been living with Miss Dio for a while, and thing had been going quite well. In fact, Dio had gotten a pony for CarrieAnnie to go along with her ridin’ lessons. And dammit, I don’t mean one o’ them foofy-ass lil’ rich girl’s ponies that are bred to be small and almost toy-like: I mean a proper pony, like ones the injuns ride. it was, a sturdy, good-natured and tough critter, though of a rather compact build. Somethin’ you can actually ride, and I mean ride--without the miserable thing dropping dead from under you--but still of a stature that was suitable for a young’un.

Well, shit, there I go digressin’ again...back to the story...now, as time went on quite a few people got to know Carrie Anne and took quite a likin’ to her, but she had some particular friends. For example, there wer the folks at the gem. You see, by this point, Clay Kungler had left Dio’s employ, a parting that was amicable and mutually-agreed upon, as Dio came to feel she really didn’t need two security people for the No. 10. Clay had gone on to take over management of the Gem Saloon for Miss Lil, (and in fact he ultimately later on came to own the place, but that’s another story for another time).

Carrie Anne would come down and sit on the porch outside the Gem--in the same place Dio had originally found her--and as she wasn’t allowed inside that big ol’ barn of inequity, folks from the Gem would come out and chat with her on the boardwalk. Among these were of course, Clay himself, but also one of Clay’s dancing girls, a very sweet young lady called Sparrow. And there was also Sparrow’s friend, a real fine old-style cowhand named Silver, who was workin’ as one of Clay’s security men for the saloon.

I think you probably would have liked Sparrow and Silver--they were both just straight-up good people, and Silver...well, he was what the boys used to call a “true gentleman.” Carrie Anne simply adored the both of ‘em.

She also had gotten real attached to a lil’ girl about her own age by the name of Elizabeth. Mind you, Elizabeth was not your average garden variety girl-child who likes frilly dresses in pretty colors, and is given to shallow and silly thoughts. Her family back east had all died suddenly from some curious unknown affliction, with only Elizabeth bein’ spared. This experience seemed to have inclined the girl to a melancholy disposition, expressed by the wearin’ of black and no other color, the reading of books by that Poe fella, and a habit of pondering the issue of human mortality with great regularity and enthusiasm.

Elizabeth, who had come out west to live with her Aunt Marrant, was just about the most happily morose creature you could have imagined.

At any rate, she and Carrie Anne found each other’s company quite agreeable, and they became fast friends. Generally speaking, the two of ‘em got on well enough with the other children in town, but not all of the young'uns, by any means. There was this one boy in particular, named Alonzo. He was just a tad younger than the two girls, and he pretty much irritated ‘em to the point of distraction. Though to be honest, he did that to pretty much everyone. The child was just strangely off-putting. But he was a real burr under the saddle for Elizabeth and Carrie Anne. The whiny, lil’ snot-drippin’ clodpoll, was always followin’ the girls around clutchin’ this pet rat he kept, and prattlin’ on, askin’ pointless questions and tryin’ to get a rise out of ‘em.

Matter o’ fact, I do believe he was trying his utmost to irritate them, and if so, he succeeded in a cosmically spectacular fashion. One day, when he was pesterin' them down by the Whitewood Creek, he made the mistake of turning his back on the two of ‘em, and without much apparent thought or consultation, Elizabeth and Carrie Anne. availed themselves of the opportunity to give him a tiny shove, propellin’ him into the stream.

Now, this wouldn’t have been too awful of a course o’ action, except that at the time, the water was rather cold, reasonably high, and truth be told, movin’ pretty goddamn fast. Alonzo quickly disappeared from their view, floating downstream with an expression of feckless befuddlement plastered on his face. The girls were convinced that they had succeeded in doing him in, and that, quite honestly, got them into a bit of a panic.

To make matters worse, along came Sheriff JF Kanto. Seeing that Elizabeth and Carrie Anne were visibly agitated, JF quickly elicited from them the sad intelligence regarding their having sent Alonzo for an unexpected swim. Sheriff Kanto sternly ordered the two girls go wait for him at the schoolhouse while he set off to see if he could locate the boy and rescue him.

Instead of following his instructions, however, Carrie Anne and Elizabeth, decided that under the circumstances, a much better course of action would be to run the hell away.

Needing advice and a loan to facilitate the execution of this plan, Carrie Anne suggested they go talk to Clay. In their experience, Clay Kungler was always good for advice and counsel when it came to anything of a questionable nature. The children always knew he could be counted to on discuss the most outrageous of topics in the most matter-of-fact manner possible. This instance would prove to be no exception, though just to be safe, the girls decided that before they sought his advice, it would be prudent to find out out if Clay was likely to be upset that they had “murdered” Alonzo:

They stood outside the door of the Gem, and Carrie Anne, her heart pounding, rapped on the doorjamb to attract Clay’s attention.

“Mr Clay?”

Clay came out, his usual sardonic smile on his face. "What can I do for ya?"

Carrie Anne gulped and then asked, “Mr Clay, do you like Alonzo?”

Elizabeth tried to look calm, but her palms were sweating, and as she wiped them on her skirt, she sort of felt like she was going to throw up. Carrie Anne was fighting the urge to cry.

Clay arched an eyebrow and replied, “Ya mean the weird little fella?”

Carrie Anne nodded her head "Yes sir"

Clay laughed, "Well, I'll say he's an odd lad..."

“Yes,” agreed Elizabeth, “but did you like him?...um, ah..I mean, DO you like him?”

Clay shrugged. “I don't reckon I've got any feelin’s about him, one way or t’other, really...”

Encouraged by this, the two girls looked at each other and finally Carrie Anne blurted out, “Me and Elizabeth sort of...kind of...pushed him in the creek and he might be dead...and Mr Kanto knows, and he went to rescue him. But then he is going to MURDER us for killin' Alonzo. We're gonna get hanged so we’re runnin' away...and we need some money...”

“And whiskey to trade with the Indians,” added Elizabeth nodding her head vigorously

Clay sighed. "Alright, alright. Well...first, calm down...I ain't seen a child hung for murder yet..."

“Carrie has a little money but we need a loan cause otherwise we have to blow up the bank to get it,” said Elizabeth.

Clay did not seem particularly fazed by any of this. “So, just outta mild curiosity, I gotta ask, why did ya’s push him in the creek?”

Carrie Anne answered quickly, “We pushed him...because he was just STARIN' at us like a maniac, and then he turned, and was just standing there and wouldn’t go away...and..well...”

“He kinda fell in after we pushed him,” concluded Elizabeth in a small voice. “He...just... is.. a...dumb boy,” she muttered.

Clay nodded as if this all seemed perfectly reasonable. “So what happened with Mr. Kanto... did he find the lad?”

“We don't know, we ran away,” answered Elizabeth. “And now Mister Kanto is gone, and Alonzo is not where we left him in the creek...maybe Mister Kanto pulled him out and is burying him up on the hilltop...”

“Well, maybe the Whitewood got both of them,” suggested Clay in a theatrically mater-of-fact tone.

“Oh NO!” wailed Carrie Anne.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. “Oh...no...that would be our fault...”

“We're gonna hang for sure!” added Carrie Anne.

Elizabeth nodded, “It’s not like Alonzo...people LIKE Mister Kanto...we WILL hang if we kilt him!”

Carrie Anne had tears running in streaky rivulets down her now puffy face. “I liked Mr Kanto,” she said quietly.

Elizabeth stared out into the distance, “The outlaws and bandits will be happy, but Mrs. Kanto will KILL me...”

Clay held up his hand and reassured them, “No, no... it's alright... I don't think Mr Kanto would go that easy...I was kiddin’ya. So now you kids are gonna run off, eh?”

Elizabeth nodded and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “We have no choice. We just need money and a pillow and blanket and my doll...oh and the whisky to trade...”

Carrie Anne put her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Yes sir. Otherwise we're going to hang or at least get a beating.” She wondered to herself, if Dio or Silver hit her, would it be as hard or maybe even harder than when her father had done so.

Clay looked thoughtful for a moment and then pronounced with great solemnity. “Ok. well, if that is what ya gotta do, then that is what ya gotta do. First off, ya need supplies and certain gear... which one of ya has a shotgun?”

Carrie Anne looked at Elizabeth and shrugged. “We have sling shots,” she offered.

Clay shook his head. “Just won’t do. Ya need a scatter gun when yer gonna be tradin’ whiskey with the Indians or renegades... if they think yer defenseless they'll scalp ya...

Carrie Anne’s eyes went wide with fear. Elizabeth thought for a bit and then suggested, “We could cut our hair real short and just give ‘em the hair we cut off if they wanted it.

Carrie Anne frowned. She hated to disagree with her friend, but she had a pretty good idea that was not going to work. “I think they want the skin, too, Elizabeth.”

Clay nodded in agreement, "Oh yes.. the skin holds it together... keeps it like the top of yer head. It's not the hair they are after... it's proof they killed ya..."

Carrie Anne gasped in horror but Elizabeth was still inclined to figure out a rational answer to this problem. “Ohhh...how about...we could...we could sign a paper that says we're dead?”

“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t suit their needs,” Clay laughed.

“Oh Elizabeth, we're doomed, moaned Carrie Anne. “We stay here, we'll hang, and if we runaway, we'll be murdered.”

Clay smiled slightly. “Well, don’t give up hope just yet...maybe we can work something out. Like if ya had a good reason to push that little idiot in the water...remember, this is Deadwood: ya can pretty much kill anyone, so long as ya have reason...”

Elizabeth was seeing a glimmer of hope. “Well, um.. cause he's a boy and he's a...”

She tried to remember what term Miss Dio would use in the circumstances.

“Feckless goddam idiot,” offered Carrie Anne.

Elizabeth nodded and looked questioningly at Clay, “Yeah...like that?

He's always chasin' after us, showin' us his pet rat, and he's always in trouble,” explained Carrie Anne.

"So ya were just standin’ up for yourselves, right?" asked Clay.

“Yessir,” said Elizabeth.

“That's...right, we were," agreed Carrie Anne, still not entirely convinced.

Clay seemed satisfied by this. “Well then, they can't hang ya's... ya might get a spankin’... but they can't hang ya for that...”

Carrie Anne was beginning to feel somewhat reassured, but something still bothered her. “How hard does Dio hit?" she asked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked at her friend and shrugged. “I don't know, she never hit me.”

“Well, Dio once beat up Sparrow in a ladies boxing match,” offered Clay helpfully.

Elizabeth frowned. “She's pretty strong, then.”

Carrie Anne pondered the possibilities for a moment and then finally put into words what she actually feared deep down inside. “She probably won't hit me, she'll just get rid of me."

For first time in the course of the entire conversation, a hint of irritation crept into Clay’s voice. “Now why would Dio get rid of ya?”

Carrie Anne looked up at him with expressionless eyes. “She ain't my ma. She can just kick me out into the street...”

“Did she ever say anything to make ya think she'd do that?” asked Clay sharply.

“No sir.” Carrie Anne replied. “She said we'd buy a ranch when Mr Sepp comes home from the army, and we’d all go live on it.”

Clay folded his arms over his chest and smiled slightly. “Well then, if that’s what she said, then I think that's what she'll do... I mean if anyone would understand what ya did today, it's Miss Dio. She knows what it's like to deal with us stupid menfolk.”

“She'll prob'ly just spank you...you can wear a pillow,” added Elizabeth in a reassuring tone.

A tiny smile crept across Carrie Anne’s features. “So, we should stay, and we won't hang, and it'll all work out?”

Clay nodded. “It'll be just fine... besides, they went and made me deputy mayor, I wouldn't let anyone hang ya’s." Clay muttered quietly under his breath, "Might give ya a reward for gettin’ rid of that kid."

"Mr Clay wouldn't trick us," Carrie Anne whispered to Elizabeth, who nodded in agreement.

“Alright then...okay...we'll stay,” Carrie Anne announced. “But if you see Mr Kanto, tell him we're dead."

“Oooh, that's a good idea!” agreed Elizabeth. “At least until he isn't so mad.”

“Once he calms down, you can tell him we're alive,” suggested Carrie Anne.

Clay laughed. "Ok, but ya can't let him see ya's then. Ya gotta hide when he is around."

“We will. We have LOTS of hiding spots,” said Carrie Anne with considerable enthusiasm.

“Hmmph,” snorted Clay, "now ya got me lyin for ya's...”

“We can pay you off if you want,” suggested Carrie Anne, like a true daughter of Deadwood.

“Except first, you have to loan us the money to do it,” added Elizabeth.

"Naw, I don't need no payments... ya just keep yer eyes open and if ya’s ever see anything weird from now on, ya gotta come tell me...Now go on..time to git, I have things I need to look after.”

The girls thanked him and dashed off down the street. As he watched them go, Clay was pretty much pleased with the outcome of the entire episode so far. Not only had he got the two young’uns to not be runnin’ off, now he had two small, inconspicuous spies keepin’ an eye on things around town for him. It never ceased to astonish him what people would say and do in front of kids, as though the lil’ critters weren’t even there, or like they couldn't understand.

And Clay was a pragmatist. Any and all information was eventually useful in some way. But that ain’t essential to this story. You’re probably wonderin’ if this boy Alonzo actually wound up being fish bait. We’ll get to that next.

~~~

Hogwarts United: well organized immersion

~~~

Newly hired assistant librarian Diogenes Penthesileia Kuhr and Head Librarian Siorai Timeless in the library at Hogwarts castle.

Mind you, my heart will always belong to Deadwood, but I do like to go exploring. And do you remember how I was telling you about being intrigued by the application and orientation system being used at Hogwarts United, a Harry Potter-themed immersion rp environment? And I told you how I had gone through the process, applying to be a staff member, and I would let you know how it turned out?

Well, boys and girls, I got hired!

I am an assistant librarian working in the school library, with a special emphasis on looking after the restricted and "dangerous" collections, although I also have been called on to take the front reference desk and help students with their research needs. This was my first week and it's been a blast, as well as an interesting and enlightening experience.

I have been switching back and forth between Deadwood and Hogwarts, and so far it's worked out pretty well. I'm pretty much just wearing my formal Victorian ensemble, but without the over-skirt and bustle, so the changeover doesn't involve a lot of extra effort to switch wardrobes. Fortunately, wizards and witches being sort of eccentric folks to start with, this look seems to fit in pretty well. But I'll say a bit more about costuming later on.

First, back to the admission process. You may recall that I had to do a lengthy written application that included a well developed backstory (retired Auror with PTSD, looking for something useful to do). Then I went to an Out of Character (OOC) interview with one of the admissions people (a charming young lady who mostly focused on asking questions designed to determine if I had a clue about the canon or not). After that I went to an OOC orientation class with a group of other new folks, and we got a good review of how things work in this community.

Then I had to wait for my face-to-face interview.

After a few days I heard from Deputy Headmisstress Anastasja Barbasz, who set up and conducted the meeting in her lovely office in the castle. The interview was done in character, and was a fascinating melding of roleplaying and a serious examination of me, the candidate. With us both in character, Deputy Headmisstress Barbasz was fun to interact with: I assume part of the exercise here was to make sure that (A.) I can actually roleplay effectively, and (B.) I'm not some kind of mega tap-dancing douche. But I genuinely enjoyed it.

I seemed to have managed to convince Ms. Barbasz about the mega tap-dancing douche issue, because lo and behold, a week or so later (Headmaster was on vacation and so the process was a bit slower than it most likely usually is) I was informed I had been hired and was told to report to the Head Librarian.

This brought me into contact with Head Librarian Siorai Timeless, who was just an absolute delight as she got me squared away on how the library functions, and what would be expected of me. In this process, there were a couple of surprises, the most interesting of which was being informed that I would be working the front desk and helping the students. This shows that these folks had a lot of faith in me, thinking that I am in any way of a temperament or otherwise appropriately suited to work with impressionable young people. Either that, or there is a serious flaw in their interview system that let me slip through.

But one of the key things I learned from Sio is that if there is no actual notecard or flip-style"book" available from the library's shelves covering the topic that a student is studying, then I would get to roleplay finding them the book. AND if I so chose, I could make up some plausible title and related details about the imaginary volume.

WOOHOO! This was real fun as I chattered away at the students about books I invented such as "The Idiot's Guide to Quidditch," "Treasures of Transfiguration." and "Great Duels I Witnessed: or How in Baal's name did he do that?" I got a bit carried away on the dueling book, explaining in detail about how it had been written by a man named McKromsky who had been Europe's best known referee of magical duels in the last century. However, being as he was pretty thoroughly drunk at almost every wizards' duel he ever refereed, there were holes in his memory and a lot of what was in the book was simply shit that he had made up. I did however, tell the students that it was really fun to read. At first I just rp'd giving the kids a book to sign out, but then I found an old freebie volume with a reading anim in the inventory, so I started giving them that.

After a few days of this kind of book duty and just observing and reacting, I began to initiate a few minor situations, and soon had some pretty full blown rp conversations of a philosophical and dramatic nature going. I had a lot of fun with some students (including my old friends from Deadwood, Tallulah and Guru) and several of the staff, including Professor Diesel (one of the charms instructors) and Nyx Carnell, the arithmancy and transfiguration professor. Nyx was a really good sport, putting up with my rambling and pontificating long after he should have gone to bed, and he is, like many of the folks in this environment, really damn good at the art of rp.

One of the most interesting interactions I had was with the guy in charge, Headmaster Nikolaidis. Now, be honest: when you think headmaster of a wizard school, you think some old Goodgulf Grayteeth character, right? A benevolent, grandfatherly old sod with twinkling eyes, a beard the size of Honduras, and shuffling around in a grubby old bathrobe with stars glued to it, right?

This ain't that kind of headmaster.

He's younger than me, slim and all dressed in leather, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee, and dude! ...about as benevolent and jolly as Genghis Khan. This man is serious, hard as nails, and ready for any shit that might come down the pike. He had combat blades strapped to his legs and an attitude that was...well....let me put it this way: when I offered that I had heard that he had something of a sense of humor (not sure where I got THAT from) he stared at me for a minute and then said flatly that he "was not aware of having anything like that."

Damn. If Dio wasn't a tough ol' kakootza herself, I think she'd have crawled under a rock and waited for dark to fall so she could escape unnoticed.

But don't get me wrong -- I thought this was really appealing and engaging. You have to keep in mind that this version of Hogwarts is set about 10 years after the last of the Harry Potter books ends. It is a new world, and still certainly dangerous. I have heard from several people, including the headmaster, that there have been bad things happening, people getting attacked, and that many of the students--being the children of the deatheater generation--have some pretty intolerant tendencies going. It really struck me that this was a headmaster who would NOT put up with any nonsense or folderol, and who would kick asses and take names if he had to.

And yet, at the same time, he told me his main goal was to encourage "the students to learn from one another."

Fucking fascinating...

Canon is there, it is respected--but it is just a starting point. What is being done here feels like "Potter: The Next Generation." Hell, I seem to be oldest person in the goddam castle, at least so far as I can tell (though I am still meeting folks). Most of the staff are in their 20's and 30's. Look at the picture of Sio, the head Librarian: she's a very attractive young lady, dressed in a sleek but practical pants suit, nicely coiffed and with cool glasses. Lots of the other folks are a bit more traditional in gowns and pointy hats, but damn...it's not your granddaddy's Hogwarts. The castle itself has the elements you would expect--great hall, towers, moving staircase, cloisters, dungeon like classrooms--but it also has a clean and slightly modernized feel to it. It's not all dark and cluttered, which in reality is probably a function of keeping prims under control, but mentally, it's easy to think that it's all an aspect of this "new Hogwarts" way of doing things. You can also imagine it is perhaps the result of the general clean-up and repairs that had to be done after the big battle that happens in the last book and which undoubtedly did a good deal of damage to the castle.

The approach that is taken by the players is admirable. There are classes that the students attend, uniforms are worn, and points given and taken from the various houses. Intrigue and rivalries abound. The teachers have to make syllabi, recommend books, and present lectures and demonstrations. The students are given homework, and come into the library complaining about it. The school administration clearly has planned out what they need and what they can manage from a practical standpoint, and when they had all their staff slots filled, they sent out an announcement saying that no more new staff would be hired until next term.

This is really well thought out and people have made a commitment that is impressive.

Is this for everyone?

No, of course not. It is rather demanding of time and energy. I imagine a lot of people burn out pretty quickly. Casual guests cannot wander in and ramble about the castle (though they can in the adjoining Hogsmeade village). And it takes awhile to get into this. I think of myself as a pretty experienced and adaptable roleplayer, but when I first got in, I felt constrained to quietly go about my assigned tasks and at most, give or respond to polite greetings. I observed and listened, and people pretty much left me alone until I was ready to begin getting to know them a bit and engaging them a little. It all felt very very real in terms of how people adjust to new situations.

My guess is that you need to be one of those in-between personalities. If you're really shy, you might get into this and go for weeks or months without talking to anyone very much. Or if you're a rampaging psychotic attention whore, you're probably going to bump up against the wall of the existing community culture, and burst into a mass of flaming farts, after which you'll go back to your usual haunts and whine about how insular and "cliquish" those people in Hogwarts are.

But hey, that's life on the grid, right? Me, I'm going to keep at this and see where it goes. Like I said, I love exploring, but sometimes, you really can't learn much by just visiting a culture for an hour or two, and then hope to come away saying you understand it. When it is this complex, you have to live in it and try to be a part of it. And so far, I am really enjoying living in this environment, and I am grateful to the Hogwarts United folks for opportunity to try to be a small part of it and understand their rp community a little better.

~~~

The experiment of roleplaying in SL

~~~

I regularly read Prokofy Neva's blog Second Thoughts (in fact, far more often than I ever look at the official Linden stuff). Many people frequently find Prokofy's long-winded commentaries to be infuriating or impenetrable (I will freely confess that about 54% of the time I don't even understand what the conversation is about), but Prokofy's writing almost invariably sparks intense debate and discussion, and by golly it sure as hell makes you think, even if your conclusion is to violently disagree with the blog's author. If Prokofy didn't exist, I suspect the SL blogosphere would have had to create him in some form. And periodically, I think what Prokofy puts out there can carry a certain degree of profundity, such as his most recent post "Second Life is a Crystal Ball" in which he expresses the idea that SL can be seen as an "emergent behavior panopticon." Prokofy observes:

"There are a thousand things you could be studying in Second Life, whether it is how disputes are resolved, how protest emerges and dissipates, how corporations manage people online, how people communicate and adjust their goals and compromise -- and lots of other separate tributaries of things like prototyping a car engine or a medical procedure, and they're all happening in SL -- yet largely unstudied."

This got me to thinking about what I have been observing and reflecting upon in recent months: the various different directions that the various SL roleplaying communities have been taking while playing out as experiments in creative cooperative recreation. Each rp environment is an experimental playground of the imagination, and as the people who are utilizing them experience problems and see new potential, they either make that environment evolve in response to the difficulties and perceived possibilities, or some of them move on and and create new communities and environments that try out new guidelines and forms of organization.

And right now, let me say, there is no perfect, one-size-fits-all rp environment. One style or system is not better than another. I am not a social Darwinist who thinks that rp communities are steadily evolving towards a single ultimate and ideal form, while the other versions are left behind to die off as some kind of inferior evolutionary dead-end dinosaur kind of thing. I firmly believe that the development of different forms of rp communities with different social structures is a good and healthy process, which accommodates the wide variety of people who are taking up this form of virtual recreation.

We are all different in terms of experience, how we learn, how we play, how we interact with other humans, and what we need to get out of that interaction. Consequently, it makes sense for a wide variety of roleplaying experiments to develop in-world, building upon and growing out of one another, and just because a new type of organization comes along, or an existing community develops in a different direction from what it had taken before, does not mean any of the various experiments are less legitimate, less fun for certain people, or deserve to go extinct.

Mind you I am very happy in Deadwood and am intrigued with how it has evolved since its inception (which is to a good extent different from how it functioned in its early months). But I am also intrigued with how other communities are evolving and what kinds of systems and structures they are establishing. For example, I recently decided to look into a community that is based upon the world of Harry Potter, not only because it sounded like a fun and interesting rp environment, but because its community leadership has set up a highly structured system for bringing in new players and fostering an enjoyable rp experience.

This is very different from so many rp communities which have a relatively loose induction system, that bascially comes down to "hey, read these rules, join this group, put on the right stuff, and please don't act like too big of dick." So I was very very curious about this "Hogwarts United" group. They start with not only giving you rules and guidelines to read, they also ask you to fill out an application (compete with well-thought out backstory), attend orientation class, and go through an interview. And THEN, if you are intent upon playing an adult and want to go to work for the Ministry of Magic or the Hogwarts School, you have to fill out another application to the folks who are in charge of those entities.

So far I have filled out the application (a process I really enjoyed being as so much of it was about developing a backstory, a process that I find to be really fun). I attended the class, which was a pleasant and efficiently-run (and not overly long) review of rules and guidelines with an opportunity to ask questions. And I had my interview with a charming and friendly admissions rep. This was more like a conversation than an interview, and again I found it to not be particularly onerous or intimidating, and the interviewer, Katerina, was very nice about listening to me ramble and answering my questions about this and that. I felt pretty good about it, not only because she approved on my ideas for what I wanted to do with my character, but because it felt like this process will ultimately be helpful in my transitioning into the community.

I'm still waiting to hear about my application to the school (to work as a special archivist dealing with the "restricted" collections), but hopefully, the Headmaster won't decide that it's too out-of-the-box or that I am too huge of a goober to pull it off. I'll keep you guys posted on how it turns out.

Anyhow, the whole thing has me curious to see what the community will be like and how it functions. I have never been a part of quite such a highly structured rp environment,and while I am sure it is not ideal for everyone, I could see how it could produce some interesting results, both in severely limiting access by potential griefers and in facilitating the introduction of new players into the environment. I suspect the next step in the evolution of rp communities may be something that combines elements of this highly structured approach with elements of the some of the looser systems.

Like Aldo says, "SL is a big social pressure cooker and you never know how the soup is going turn out, but at least it gets done pretty quick."

So what do you all think about what kinds of rp communities and environments best suit who you are, and what kinds of experiments might develop next?

~~~

A story from Deadwood -- one warm afternoon in the Gem

This is one of my favorite stories from the early days of the Deadwood sim, re-posted from the Road to Deadwood Forum. It didn't start out as a story, it was actually an impromptu bit of roleplaying that happened between myself and my friend Sepp. We did this scene, pretty much as you read it here, with both of us making it up as we went along. Sadly I did not save an actual chat transcript (we didn't have the forum at the time, and there seemed to be no reason to do so), so I had to reconstruct it from memory. It 's a bit cleaner and a bit more polished than what actually transpired, and some of the descritpoive elements have been fleshed out to give it some depth. But the spirit of what you are going to read here is as true to the real encounter as I could make it. And yes, Foxy and Lil were eavesdropping, thank you girls. And thank you Sepp.

The Gem saloon in the Deadwood sim, ca. late 1876.
Photo courtesy of Mr. Rod Eun

Dio was back in the corner at the end of the bar, drinking her coffee and trying to not pay much attention to the usual Gem noises. Willie the bartender was breakin' wind like a buffalo with bad digestion, Foxy was yelling at someone about something or other, and a couple of drunks were arguing and threatening each other in that vaguely hilarious way that only dimwitted inebriates are capable of. Lil was, as usual, in the back "medicating" herself.

All in all, it was just another normal afternoon at the Gem Saloon, Deadwood City, the Dakota Territory.

Dio's ears, attuned to picking up new noises from the usual din, noted the sound of boots moving towards her across the broad uneven planking of the Gem's floor. Instinctively she turned, expecting to see good ol' Lefty or Daz, or one of the other boys that made the Gem more than just another booze parlor.

Instead, it was a figure that was not one of the usual cast of characters--yet at the same time it was strangely familiar...not too tall, slightly stocky....and dressed in a manner that set the wearer apart from the usual run of cowpokes and miners, trail trash, drifters, confidence men, dandified grifters, and pointlessly arrogant pistoleros that seemed to make up the bulk of the male population in this wretched little tin-plated piss-pot town.

He had on a blue army shell jacket of an obsolete pattern, decorated with faded yellow cavalry piping; a battered old-style forage cap; yellow-striped blue breeches, stuffed into riding boots; and a heavy revolver--a venerable cap and ball model that had been converted to cartridge, she noted--and he had it worn butt-forward, set at the perfect angle to be efficiently drawn while fighting from horseback.

Her eyes traveled up to the face...sun and wind burnt, rough features with a small, neatly trimmed beard..and a eyepatch...the surviving eye, looked straight into hers, and she knew him, then and there. Even with all the changes that can be wrought by the passing of 16 years, by traveling thousands of miles on bad coffee and worse food, by taking the impact of yankee shell fragments and prison camps and witnessing the deaths of friends and enemies at close hand, living out an endless life in the saddle and carrying out orders that may or may not have made any sense to a man who loved reason and logic and human decency...through all the damage that had been done over time and distance to the young man she had once known...she recognized him.

He stopped next to the bar, a good eight feet or so away from her. Not all that far, really. But it felt to her like a great chasm still stood between them, and he seemed to understand and respect that. After a pause, a voice, soft but deep, spoke to her, quietly, but at the same time cutting through the surrounding din, like the light of a hand lamp piercing the dark of night.

"Hello Diogenes. Some gentleman told me I could find you here."

She could still only look at him blankly.

Another pause followed, but he never took his one-eyed gaze away from hers.

His voice was still quiet. "I am sorry about Jack. For what it is worth, I wanted to let you know that I did my best to keep him alive. I am desperately, truly sorry."

Finally she spoke. "Hello Sepp."

Then the words came out like a small flood, "Cap Johnson's boys come to see me after they got sent home. They tol' me he din't suffer none. An they give me his ol' forage cap. An' they needed them some money..but wouldn't accept a gift nor a loan from me, so the eldest, Mo, he done give me his calvry sack coat an let me give him some money fer it..an...well shit...please, tell me the truth, Sepp...and goddam you to hell for ever if'n yer lying to me...was it quick? Did he really feel nothin'? did..."

The old horse soldier did not flinch, his expression was like stone: impassive, grim, but still looking straight into her eyes. "On my honor, Dio, it was as quick as a soul can depart this world...one minute we were all sitting there on our mounts under some trees, waiting to move out. And all of a sudden there was a woosh and a bang, like a huge clap o' thunder, and we all went down..and Jack was gone. Same shell killed his horse, and my old bay, Ceasar, and took my eye, and few other less noticeable pieces of me, and it hurt one o' the other boys something dreadful..."

Sepp dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment and then looked up into her eyes once more. "Dio, if I thought there actually was a God, I would swear to you on his Holy Book that Jack felt no pain in his passing."

"I...well...the boys told me that...but you know how fellers'll tell a widder just about goddam anythin' tryin' to spare her feelin's. I'm right glad twas the truth. I believe you Sepp. Funny...I still got Mo's gray woolens, but damn me if'n I din't lose Jack's cap somewhere..." Her voice trailed off.

Silently the soldier reached into a haversack he carried, and pulled out a very battered old gray military cap. It had dark brown stains around jagged holes..the kind of holes that no moth can make.

He gently set it on the bar, in the gap in between them. She stared at it as if it was some strange creature...

"I found it on your kitchen table at the ranch Dio," he said. "I got there just as the foreclosure auction was ending. You were gone...no one knew where...but I saw the cap and I picked it up, I thought maybe you might want it some day."

She continued to stare at it. Her face was impassive, set with a determination that would have held a world of meaning for Sepp's Apache and Tonkawa rangers from before the war..those men would have understood what her face meant, and would have appreciated it. A single tear slowly etched it's lonely path down her cheek.

"He loved you very much Dio," Sepp continued. "Jack was not a man of many words, he didn't have much to say a lot of the time, but there wasn't a day that didn't go by that he didn't think about you and miss you terribly."

For the first time he took his single eyed gaze away from hers. He looked at the floor. "I had something I wanted to give you...to make sure you knew how much he loved you...that locket with your picture...when I came to, I ... I got it from Jack's..well Jack's mortal remains...I had it with me all these years...I was determined I was going to give it to you..show you how much he loved you..that locket, that picture that when he thought no one was looking, he would pull out and gaze at it, and, well...he loved you more than can rightly be put into words."

He again raised his one eye to meet hers. "But damn if I didn't lose it..just a few weeks ago..must have been a careless damn fool and lost it on the trail somewhere..."

Now it was his voice that trailed off.

For the first time she smiled. A tight, wry, ironic smile.

"It's allright, Sepp. Someone I know..well..by god, they, um... sort of found it." She pulled it out of the pocket in her buckskin skirt.

For the first time since he had walked into that barn-like shithole of a saloon, he smiled.

Suddenly her expression changed.

"Sepp?"

"Yes?"

"That note you left for me..with Mr. Bu..."

"The old Chinese gent, your neighbor?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

"In it..well...you told me to stop hunting for you up in the hills, to wait down here in town..."

"Yes. It was too dangerous for you to be doing that, Dio."

"In it..you said...you said you din't want nothin' to happen to me...cuz you loved me."

"Yes."

"That true?"

"Yes it is. Dio, I've always loved you."

She regarded him in silence for a moment and then slowly, quietly asked, "Even back then...when we was young an just bein' foolish?"

"Yes. And if your next question is did I love you just like a sister...or a right good friend...No. I loved you the other way. But Jack was my best friend. I was always happy for you two. You two being married...well, it was the best a fellow could hope for under the circumstances."

"That how come you never got hitched?"

"Well, it wasn't all of it, but yes, by God it was a big part of it. No woman ever seemed to quite measure up to you, Diogenes."

Suddenly, without a word she moved closer to him. She slowly put her arms around him and pressed her head against his shoulder and began crying. Huge heaving sobs, as years of pain and loss and emptiness poured out in a wave that wracked her slight body. He gently put his big paw-like hands around her and held her... even as she began hitting him on the chest.

"Goddamit" she hissed. "Goddamit to hell and back, you lousy ol' good fer nuthin' feckless saddle-tramp sonofabitch! And you know somethin' else? You look like a goddam idjit in that blue monkey suit."

For the first time in years, the old soldier laughed. He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes.

They kissed...gently, tentatively at first, and then the kiss lengthened and became more intense. And then, arm in arm, they walked out of the Gem and down the street towards her new home in the back of the laundry at the end of China Row, in that very good location right next to Mr. Bu's popular opium house.

Neither noticed that they had left something behind on the bar: an old gray military cap. Later the next day, she would remember it was still there and would go retrieve it. But life, as it does, seemed to have moved on...

~~~

A roleplaying transcript -- talking about men and their...guns

Hi folks, sorry I haven't thrown any new crap your way for a few days -- was out on the road this week for rl employment nonsense. But here's an impromptu conversation -- completely made up as we went along -- from the early days of the Deadwood sim. The context here is that someone has been trying to terrorize the town, and the townspeople have laid a trap for this person. This is one of the conversations that takes place while they are waiting for the troublemaker to show up.

The following transcript is re-posted from The Road to Deadwood forum. It involves a conversation between Dio and another character named Marrant Vita who was, if I recall correctly, the first school marm in town. What I find charming about Marrant is how-- in spite of her history and past events (see Marrant's excellent character intro on the RTD forum for the tragic details) she still has a distinct romantic streak, a sweet idealism about what is possible between a man and a woman, that is truly endearing.

One reason it is so charming, is that I think most of our Deadwood women actually share a longing for that same romantic ideal, but most of the rest of us have either learned to hide it, or do our best to deny it, perhaps even to pretend (or hope) it doesn't exist. So many of us have been hurt and disappointed once or twice (or more) too often to be otherwise. Consequently, it is almost something of a shock to come across someone like Marrant, an honest-to-God legitimate member of our sisterhood of the broken heart, who still openly believes and hopes for that romantic possibility.

Diogenes Kuhr: mind if'n I set with y'all a spell Marrant?
Marrant looks up from her book... No, please, have a seat. Mighty quiet
Diogenes Kuhr: yep I'm wonderin' if the person behind all this knows we is waitin' for him ...
Diogenes Kuhr: ...or her
Diogenes Kuhr: what y'all readin' hon?
Marrant: It's a short story called the Legend of Sleepy Hollow
Diogenes Kuhr: oh?
Marrant: Yes, I started thinking of it... it has a headless horseman in it
Diogenes Kuhr: really...how does it turn out?
Marrant: well, the main character's a schoolteacher
Marrant smiles... a man
Diogenes Kuhr: hmmph
Marrant: He and this other man are both suitors of the same woman. The schoolteacher gets scared off by a Headless Horseman..and the other man marries the woman,
Diogenes Kuhr: this gal they both like...she purty?
Diogenes Kuhr: or rich?
Marrant: Pretty, I think...
Diogenes Kuhr: so why'd she pick the other feller, not the schoolteacher?
Marrant: I guess because the schoolteacher ran off, terrified of the Headless Horseman
..lost his chance.. The other man seemed a bit more.... manly...and you never know if it was or wasn't the other man who was the Headless Horseman...but it makes you wonder
Diogenes Kuhr: hmmm
Diogenes Kuhr: not surprising then
Marrant *smiles*....not at all
Diogenes Kuhr: real men make their chances
Diogenes Kuhr: create their own opportunities
Marrant: I would want a man who wasn't scared.....not one who ran away from a Headless Horseman
Marrant *notes all the men who are absent tonight*
Marrant Only a few brave men here tonight, Dio. Of course, if Kane was still alive, he'd be here
Diogenes Kuhr: fine line twixt bravery an loonacy
Marrant *gazes off* ... Kane was a very brave man...
Diogenes Kuhr: oh?
Diogenes Kuhr: cain't say I ever saw that in him
Marrant: Well.. I mean, he was very tall and he had a big gun
Diogenes Kuhr: what did he do makes y'all say that?
Marrant: ..and he dressed in black..and...he and Badger were friends, and Badger seems very brave
Diogenes Kuhr: the Lipan Apache rangers that m' friend Sepp had in his Texas Ranger company, had them a sayin...
Diogenes Kuhr: "big gun, small penis"
Marrant's *eyes pop open wide* Oh...my...
Marrant *hopes the ghost of Kane can't hear that quote*
Diogenes Kuhr: o course it's not literally true..
Marrant *wonders how big Badger's gun is*
Diogenes Kuhr: like Ron over there
Diogenes Kuhr: he's always armed to the teeth, but I reckon he's got stones to spare...
Diogenes Kuhr: cuz I seen him face down bad guys and mean critters
Diogenes Kuhr: an chase after em
Diogenes Kuhr: an he's a standin' here tonight
Marrant gazes at Ron
Diogenes Kuhr: I think what the Lipans meant was that it's easy fer someone to talk brave when they have a gun ready to hand
Diogenes Kuhr: but it's about how you act
Marrant: That Headless Horseman didn't have a gun at all... would that mean he had a very large.........Marrant *lets her thoughts wander off*
Diogenes Kuhr: *laughs*
Marrant: Dio, you know I'll be looking a guns from now on with a whole different eye
Diogenes Kuhr: *grins* I should hope so

~~~

RP transcript -- Dio wrassles with a mountain lion

an early rp transcript of a surprise scenario that no one including myself was expecting, re-posted with some editing from The Road to Deadwood Forum. I really like this, not just because so many people got involved when I was attacked by a mountain lion -- which Ron Xi shot while I was "wrasslin" with it -- but because while I am lying in the street bleeding like mad, they are talking about all sorts of things, including what they are going to do with the cougar's hide. And through it all, Sand, our marshal, was still trying to figure out what happened:

[18:54] Sand Rau: what is THAT!
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott:*backs up to lefty*
[18:54] Kiwi Little: dont move...
[18:54] You: mountain lion
[18:54] Lefty Fargis: watch it Dio a mountain lion!
[18:54] Brooklyn Alcott:*blinks in surprise*
[18:54] Lost Ferals HUD: Ganesha would like to animate your avatar. Click [Yes] to accept.
[18:54] Cookie Portocarrero: oh mah goodness - shoot it!
[18:54] Ganesha lines up on their target and... POUNCE!
The mountain lion has pounced on Dio but Ron shoots
[18:54] Deadwood 1.6: Ganesha Xi falls to the ground apparently dead or unconscious...
[18:54] Deadwood 1.6: Ganesha Xi trembles a little then appears to die...
[18:55] Deadwood 1.6: Diogenes Kuhr falls to the ground apparently dead or unconscious...
[18:55] Brooklyn Alcott:*runs to miss Dio*
[18:55] Kiwi Little: miss Dio!
[18:55] Cookie Portocarrero: oh mah lord
[18:55] You: goddam that hurt
[18:56] Kiwi Little: damn who shoot mis Dio?
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott:*bends down to miss Dio*
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: it was the lion I think
[18:56] Sand Rau: WHERE IN THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM??
[18:56] Nitron Xi: I think the lion got Miss Dio!
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: *opens the bag*
[18:56] You: not shot, goddam cougar got me...
[18:56] Sand Rau: SOME ONE GET A DOCTOR
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott:* rolls miss Dio over*
[18:56] Lazurus Thorne: Get Miss Dio off the street
[18:56] Brooklyn Alcott: I AM a doctor
[18:57] Cookie Portocarrero: is she breathin, Dr. Alcott?
[18:57] Brooklyn Alcott: *kneels down*
[18:57] You: sonofagoddambitchin' cat
[18:57] Brooklyn Alcott: yes she is breathing ....*giggle* cussin too
[18:57] Sand Rau: WHERE IN THE HELL...?
[18:57] Kiwi Little: she is alive
[18:57] Brooklyn Alcott:*looks over her cuts and bite*
[18:57] Brooklyn Alcott: yes...
[18:58] Nitron Xi:*runs over* Miss Dio! Miss Dio you ok??
[18:58] Deadwood 1.6: Diogenes Kuhr is now ready for surgery...
[18:58] Cookie Portocarrero: she don't look so good
[18:58] Sand Rau: damn cat
[18:58] Kiwi Little: Poor miss dio
[18:58] You: *groans*
[18:58] Brooklyn Alcott:*puts some salve on the gauze and starts pressing hard on the cuts*
[18:59] Brooklyn Alcott looks over at the animal
[18:59] Nitron Xi:*ties a rope around the animal's paws*
[18:59] Nitron Xi: just to be sure
[18:59] Sand Rau: man alive....
[18:59] Brooklyn Alcott: *looks at the deep gashes in her stomach, arms and neck....*
[18:59] Cookie Portocarrero: you kin drag it into the back room of the hotel
[18:59] Brooklyn Alcott *presses hard*
[18:59] Lazurus Thorne: Damn
[19:00] You: thank god fer buckskin duds
[19:00] Lazurus Thorne: Carefull Mister Ron
[19:00] Cookie Portocarrero: oh Miz Dio! you ain't daid!
[19:00] Sand Rau: you maam are one tuff cookie
[19:00] Brooklyn Alcott:*reaches for the thread and needle....searching in the bag*
[19:00] You: goddam right I ain't dead
[19:00] Brooklyn Alcott: no she's not dead
[19:00] Lefty Fargis: I been needin' a mountain lion skin for my floor
[19:00] Nitron Xi:*picks up the animal and carries it into the back of the hotel*
[19:00] Brooklyn Alcott:*smiles*
[19:00] Brooklyn Alcott: she's too tough
[19:00] You: jus bleedin like hell
[19:01] Brooklyn Alcott: we'll get that stopped, miss Dio
[19:01] Brooklyn Alcott:*presses harder*
[19:01] Sand Rau: I'll help ya
[19:01] Brooklyn Alcott: oh Miss Dio he picked the tastiest one outa the bunch..giggle
[19:02] Sand Rau: she going to be ok ..doc?
[19:02] Brooklyn Alcott: course she is....she's a tough one
[19:02] Sand Rau: damn right she is
[19:02] Brooklyn Alcott: aint no cat gonna take her off this world
[19:02] Sand Rau: tuff as nails
[19:03] Brooklyn Alcott:*looks at the blood just pouring out of the neck wound*
[19:03] Brooklyn Alcott: you gonna have some cat marks to show folks, Miss Dio
[19:03] Brooklyn Alcott:*smiling and pressing down with all her might*
[19:03] Lazurus Thorne: Mister Ron, if that cat has enough whole hide....I'd like a new holster out of it
[19:03] Nitron Xi: I'll check into it for ya, sir
[19:04] Lazurus Thorne: abliged
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott:*looks over shoulder to Lefty*
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott: can you help me ??
[19:04] Nitron Xi: is miss Dio gonna be alright, Brooklyn?
[19:04] Lefty Fargis: yeah what ya need
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott: Lefty press here ...on the neck
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott: as hard as you can
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott: while i sew up her arm
[19:04] You: arrrgh goddam that hurt
[19:04] Lefty Fargis: * presses on her neck *
[19:04] Brooklyn Alcott: I'm sorry miss Dio...
[19:05] Brooklyn Alcott:*threads the needle and starts sewing the gash in the arm*
[19:05] Brooklyn Alcott: I think we did this last week didn't we Miss Dio??
[19:05] Brooklyn Alcott : *smiles, trying to keep her mind off being hurt*
[19:05] Sand Rau: think so too
[19:05] You: hell yes, Doc
[19:05] Sand Rau: *smiles*
[19:05] You: an' as much I like ye...
[19:05] Brooklyn Alcott: *smiles*
[19:06] You: ...cuz goddam, you really do smell good an' all...
[19:06] You: but I's gittin' right tired o' this gittin' patched up nonsense

~~~