#YesIPlay (I roleplay because…)

If I hadn’t discovered roleplaying, I wouldn’t have known what it was that set my ever-restless soul afire. I considered myself a serious writer at the delicate age of seven and, having come to this realization at such an early age, I carefully consumed and documented the world much like Harriett the Spy. Though I loved written fiction, I was also entranced by technology and the interactive nature of computer or  console games. I was a passive participant when reading books in the sense that I could watch over the characters and journey with them but I wasn’t able to intervene or alter the course. When playing games, I was an active participant in that I was allowed to converse with characters and unlock puzzles. The family computer was a strange and wondrous machine that I adored but it became even more mystifying and magical when my father hooked it up to the Internet. The Internet introduced me to an array of worlds and people I would have never otherwise encountered. I broke into the world of roleplay when I stumbled upon various forums and message boards.

It all began with me wanting to emulate videogame characters in the form of text. I would often role play as Lara Croft or Garnet from Final Fantasy IX. This activity granted me the allowance to explore pre-existing characters by placing them in a variety of scenarios. How would Lara Croft react or behave at a fancy ball? Would she roll her eyes while nursing an alcoholic beverage or would she sneak off and locate a hidden room that contained archeological treasures? This hobby gave me the freedom to do as I pleased and that was wonderfully liberating. It was a genuinely cathartic experience for me.

Back in the late 90’s, when AIM was in its heyday, I used to roleplay in a chat room called The Klickalack Tavern. What’s a better setting than a tavern? I could run into anything from a mischievous satyr to an ex-soldier down on his luck. Every now and then an intense scene between two people would transform into a brawl and, like a spider web, the scene would ensnare everyone in the room. Roleplay would rarely get stale because it was so unpredictable. From my personal experience, no two encounters were the same because of unique writing styles and approaches. Lastly, I recall, with a sense of nostalgia, the rush of excitement whenever I entered the chat room. Not only would I anticipate the unexpected, but the very room felt like a secretive place where people could be anything they wanted to be. I could adopt any persona I wanted and that was a terrifically freeing experience.

When World of Warcraft rose to fame, I was interested in roleplaying on it because I could physically see and move my character on the screen. I wouldn’t have to put as much emphasis into my character’s appearance or actions via text. I desperately tried to submerge myself in the world of Azeroth but I never felt genuinely engaged or stimulated. I wasn’t interested in grinding and getting my character to the highest level or killing eight monsters for a specific item. Where was the compelling story? How was my character unique? I’ve nothing against WoW players but I wasn’t unable to unearth the right community that served my own roleplaying needs. Having recently read Leigh Alexander’s Breathing Machine, a memoir that details her personal experiences with technology, I found myself relating to her lack of enthusiasm when it came to large scale MMORPGs.

“No story, or if there is one it lay out of reach: There were miles of creature pelts and upgradable armors to be dealt with before you felt like you could play a role in a narrative, in the ecosystem. Occasionally, some grand player crowned in high level spoils would soar by me on a featureless plain. Who are these people, I wondered bitterly.”

I stopped roleplaying for some time because the Internet was changing and the roleplayers I knew and loved were vanishing one by one. AIM, once a masterful lion, was now falling to the wayside and other programs were taking its place. I finally reentered the roleplaying scene again in 2008 after a prolonged dry spell. I joined Second Life because I was bored and had zero desire to complete my biology homework. I was a sophmore in college and, though I enjoyed my writing classes, required another creative outlet. Not a stranger to text based role play or its niche subculture, I sought out a community of likeminded individuals who fancied playing pretend and building a story.

Even though Second Life’s graphics were somewhat primitive in 2008, I could still physically sculpt my character in almost any way I wanted. Impressed with Second Life’s customization feature and its array of expansive worlds, I re-discovered that old flame inside of me. I eventually came across a role playing community that was set in the Star Wars universe. We lovingly (and sometimes not so lovingly) referred to the community as SWRP, an acronym that stood for Star Wars Role Play. We even put together a trailer for the community. I played a wide range of characters throughout the years but my favorite character was an Anzat named Jortai, who was mute and over six feet tall. I had created an incredibly unconventional character that I really wanted to play. She started out as a miniscule idea in the back of my brain and ended up taking form on the screen in front of my eyes. I was over the moon and so done with those cookie cutter types of characters.

Second Life provided me with a space to play in.  I could create whatever I felt compelled to create with little to no restrictions or limitations. Second Life is comparable to Minecraft because it operates much like a sandbox game. However, Second Life differs in that its players are not playing in some game developer’s brainchild. Second Life belongs to its players and that’s damn special. It’s not a one person effort. Whether it’s a colossal skyscraper in a city sim or a tiny piece of jewelry, Second Life’s playerbase builds nearly everything. Though roleplayers are required to follow some rules and guidelines, it can be a really rewarding experience.

I’m a stronger writer because of roleplay. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend five to seven hours a night in a single scene. Though it never felt like work, it really was a lot of work. I also learned more about my identity as a writer. I tend to roleplay as strange or unconventional characters. My last character was a beggar woman named Ysat who referred to herself in the third person and had to walk on all fours because of a warped bone structure. A good chunk of roleplay characters are beautiful and heroic but I’m interested in flaws. I want to get acquainted with the monster inside the fictional person I’ve created. That’s where the fire is for me.