how I lost my soul to a game

[jmtorres]

It is everysecondtuesday's fault I play Echo Bazaar. Therefore I'm going to blame her for how melancholy I am tonight.

I had a friend--an acquaintance--in the game, not even a player, just a character, which makes this super ridiculous, but--so in the storylet, how I met her was she was a music-hall singer who was going to elope with a devil, and for some reason I was investigating the matter--I think I was investigating the devil, but I never got around to reporting back to the Brass Embassy about him, because I felt it more urgent to trip her up and spill her bags and make her late for the ship she was sailing off on with her devil lover, so that he left without her. And when I talked to her about it, yes, she was a little scared he might take her soul or something. And so she was relieved I'd interrupted matters and gotten her out of it.

(And you may as well know, I'm a hypocrite: I've been accepting Brass Embassy invitations and trading souls off the bazaar and advice on everything from cooking to poetry for the admiration of devils and devilesses; my Hedonism recently hit 9 and I've been fighting with Scandal, and to my amusement, attending church reduces my Connected to Hell not a whit.)

Anyway, as a result of my nosy rescue, the music-hall singer became someone I could visit, and I did, a lot, sort of all the time really. It was a stupid, repetitive little storylet--there were only four options to it, and one of them was a sure thing. I could drop in for a chat, whereby I reliably got better Connected to Bohemians and Criminals and acquired a handful of secrets.

(Secrets, by the way, are one of the most frustrating things in this game. I collect them compulsively, but the game never shows me their content. I got enough Whispered Secrets to cash in for Cryptic Clues and enough Cryptic Clues to cash in for Appalling Secrets and enough Appalling Secrets to tip my Nightmare quality into a trip to the Hotel California, and I still don't know what any of those secrets are. They're a commodity, not actual information.)

The next option was to end the acquaintance, which I never once thought about doing. The third option was to seduce her; I did that a few times, because my character is a slut, and curiously it could turn out as a fantastic one-night stand or an awkward one-night stand but it never turned into a love affair. And I could always mend our damaged friendship by dropping by to chat a few dozen more times, which was no hardship, because I liked her.

I really honestly did, I liked her. All the bits of storylet combined were maybe a few hundred words that I read--skimmed--over and over again between button presses, and an utter lack of information in secrets passed, but I did, I liked her. Maybe it was the saucy avatar or maybe it was the fact that I could never get her to fall for me. But I really liked her. Embarrassingly, I was halfway to imagining her as an actual player whose Opportunity Deck was constantly spitting up a "Your Friend, The Interfering Busybody, Has Dropped By For Tea Again" card, and wondering what she got out of clicking the button on me.

But the fourth option sat at the bottom of the page and mocked me. The fourth option was to use one's persuasive powers to swindle her out of a pack of moon-pearls.

It wasn't like I needed moon-pearls. There was nothing I was saving up for, nothing I really wanted to buy on the bazaar nor route it would get me that much closer to opening, and I already had enough moon-pearls to lark about the Carnival 'til kingdom come, which I imagine is much longer in Fallen London than in places that haven't fallen into the near vicinity of Hell.

But tonight, that "What does this button do?" sense of gameplay made me try it. I thought she'd be pissed off. I thought I'd have to work my way into her good graces again with a whole day's worth of turns. I didn't think she'd give me the moon-pearls and then vanish into the night, never to be seen again.

So I'm melancholy about it, about losing my friend. But not Melacholy, no, the in-game quality that got a boost was Ruthless. It was that more than anything, sitting there gaping at me being Ruthless--me!--that made me realize how hard I'd fallen for an NPC.

And then wtf'd at myself for having the term NPC in my brain, because apparently even though I don't talk about gaming with anybody I've nonetheless managed to absorb terminology as it flew around over my head when my friends fell facefirst into new releases of WoW and whatnot.

And then I went back to being melancholy enough to write this whole stupid entry, that I'm contemplating not even posting because frankly if it were any of my friends I would mock the shit out of them for this, if I even bothered to read it at all and didn't just glaze over and skim past upon realization that it was about some game.

But if I could talk to her again--well, even if I could, if there was that option in the game, I'd never get to shape my words to her, it would be two, maybe three choices with Go! buttons next to them--but if I could write a letter, maybe, I'd say:

My Dearest Sardonic Music-Hall Singer,
I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't want the moon-pearls. I would have given them back. I thought we'd be able to laugh about it. I can still give them back. Do you want them back? How about this fucking ridiculous diamond bracelet somebody gave me--seriously, it's like, thirty diamonds, and you can't even buy them on the bazaar. I'm not trying to say you're materialistic, I just mean, if there's anything I have, anything I can get, anything I can do for you to make it up to you, it's yours, I don't care. I miss you. I hope you haven't run away with some devil--gracious, woman, you don't have to run away to do that, you can sleep with them in town and then gossip with me about it, isn't that what I do? This is ridiculous. It doesn't even make sense. You're going to run away from where you live in Spite and where you sing for your livelihood to hide from me over a couple hundred moon-pearls? Why didn't you refuse me? Why didn't you scream in my face never to darken your doorstep again, if it upset you that badly? Why did you leave? What happened? Was it me? Or was there something else wrong, and I never knew? Did you whisper hundreds of secrets to me and keep your own troubles hidden away all this time? Is there anything I can do? Please tell me. Please come back.
Faithfully yours,
The Interfering Busybody

Comments

[alexseanchai]

This amuses me more than it has any right to. I am sorry you're feeling down. Also, that letter belongs on AO3.

[lastscorpion]

Write, bitch, WRITE.

[alexseanchai]

Homework. Then write.

[jmtorres]

It's okay--I had to be able to laugh at myself a little to be able to write it at all. I am full of contradictions.

I feel really weird about posting just the letter on AO3 without any context. And the context of the rest of the entry isn't really fanfiction in its own right. Maybe if I flesh out the what-would-the-player-experience-be-for-the-Sardonic-Music-Hall-Singer part?

[alexseanchai]

I like that thought. Especially since I missed that whole storylet.

[lastscorpion]

What an amusing anecdote-like-thing! Fic, basically. Beautifully written!
Feel better soon!

[jmtorres]

Thank you.

[mjules]

I agree that this belongs on AO3 with the rest of the delicious EBZ fic. It does eat your brain, doesn't it?

I personally am stricken over my Affectionate Devil having broken up with me when he found I'd sold my soul to someone else, even though I am in process of trying to get it back specifically so he can take it from me. We do get very attached.

[kshandra]

Oh, he hasn't heard that the Quiet Deviless got mine yet...I'm not looking forward to that meeting.

[jmtorres]

*snerk* at your icon!

[jmtorres]

Oh, dear, I haven't gotten far enough in those storylines to be asked for my soul. I had wondered if that was coming. I think I may have to draw the line there.

I feel weird about posting just the letter without context to AO3, and the whole entry certainly doesn't belong there. I am considering writing more about her, though.

[poppet]

there's EBZ fic? of course there's EBZ fic. i do did NOT need to know that.

[azurelunatic]

Awww! Your poor character!

fairlight was complaining that love in that game is pretty much almost doomed.

[jmtorres]

Truly it is, everyone's trying to get something from somebody. And the game keeps offering sneaky spying on people shortcuts to seduction rather than grinding the "small talk until I get to know you better" option.

[relsqui.livejournal.com]

Hullo via @EchoBazaar's retweet of your link; I imagine you should expect more company coming from that direction soon.

This made me smile. I hope your letter gets to her--stranger things have happened in Fallen London than that. For what it's worth, I've had a similar emotional experience in a more embarrassing game than EBZ. It never did work out. Good luck with yours!

[jmtorres]

I hope your letter gets to her--stranger things have happened in Fallen London than that.

Thank you. It was sort of a metaphysical message in bottle, sending the link off to @EchoBazaar, and it's already gone further than I thought it would. My phone's got off twice with RTs just while I've been writing this comment. Here's to strange happenings in Fallen London.

[liret.livejournal.com]

I feel this way about the Repentant Forger. I destroyed the man by forcing him to continue scraping away at that damn painting, and now I picture him wandering mindlessly through the Tomb-Colonies or something else awful, all because I just had to know what was on that last layer. And I'm so sorry, and I'd still do it again.

[jmtorres]

If it's possible for players to come back from Nightmare-induced insanity, surely we can imagine it's possible for our favorite characters, too. Maybe he actually got to talk to the Manager!

[nextian]

I'm also here from EBZ's retweet of this. I love this entry. I felt this way after the Barbed Wit scenes ended in court, and I still can't bring myself to sell the Token of Affection -- even though it's just an ingame piece of nonsense.

Embarrassingly, I was halfway to imagining her as an actual player whose Opportunity Deck was constantly spitting up a "Your Friend, The Interfering Busybody, Has Dropped By For Tea Again" card, and wondering what she got out of clicking the button on me.

Yes, this is exactly right!

[jmtorres]

*nodnodding* I don't have anything that unique from her but I think I may never spend those moon-pearls, just in case she ever shows up to ask for them back.

[jackandahat]

That sounds wise.

[ashkitty]

Here via the very same RT, and I know just what you mean! I only sold the mememto from the Acclaimed Beauty after I'd maxed out pretty much everything and really had absolutely nothing else to do. Falling a little for the Revolutionary Firebrand now and I'm sure that's doomed as well....

[zulu]

Aww, I understand, and I'm so sorry you lost her.

[jmtorres]

Thank you. *hugs*

[rubyprism]

Games are like that. They grab your emotions when you're not looking, and they let you choose just enough to quietly build on what you feel, sometimes before you realise it. I think all gamers, sooner or later, feel strong emotions for some character or other-- not all of them fall in love; some of them hate somebody, some of them grieve for a death, and so on-- but this happens.

That's really the intent of fiction, anyway; if it's well-written it will grip your emotions, and it shouldn't be surprising when it grips people a little harder than usual. That just means you had an intense trip on fiction. That's an experience to be valued and acknowledged and appreciated.

I think we all feel a little awkward about acknowledging that we can experience the emotions fiction to that level, because, I guess, we're afraid that others will accuse us of taking the bizarre leap from "strong emotions" to "crazy person can't tell that it's just a game". But I think people who feel for characters are even more hyperaware that it's just a game. What their limits are. What they'll never get to do for the character they care about. And... it is a little funny, simply because it's so awkward to confront the difference between "unrequited crush on character/celebrity/whatever that will never return your feelings" and "person you actually know who can communicate with you". But moreover it's still something to be valued. "I got so much out of this work of fiction; I got a really full and intense experience; and it matters to me." Your emotions help the work create meaning. That's a really good experience to have.

[dingsi]

... that was actually quite heartwrenching and not ridiculous at all. I'm halfway hoping someone at EBZ will decide to do something about it and elevate the NPC to a PC.
(Uh, here via... *goes back to check* ... oh yes, hl.)

[amaresu]

(Here through random DreamWidth searches.)

I understand completely. I'm a bit concerned about my relationship with the Once-Dashing Smuggler is coming to an end and that upsets me rather a lot. More than I'd really wanted to admit before reading this. He's just so charming and he takes me on picnics and to balls where we go as the most Scandalous couple ever and there were those lovely dirigible rides. But I think the relationship is coming to a close.

And I was more upset by events at the University than I probably should've been. Alas.