Granado Espada and Me.

Alright, I've been sucked into sGE. It might explain why I haven't been talking to anybody but my GE partners in crime. I won't go into what the game in great depth. The only thing that you need to know is that it's addictive, beautiful and offering a role-play contest until Friday.

I play extensively, devoting most of my CPU to running GE day and night. Most of my conversations are about GE, whether it concerns general gameplay, the exciting grind, my ridiculous loot luck or making a huge deal about Granado Espada history. I can't say that GE has exclusively grabbed my heart in terms of MMOs, but the mixture of flavor and excellent game design keeps me devoted.

The only problem at the moment is the lack of serious, if not beautiful, role-play, an issue I constantly encounter in MMOs that my friends drag me into. In GE's case, I'm surprised and not surprised simultaneously. When I first came upon GE's interface and chatting system, I noticed that local chat had the customary limited range, could be applied above the heads of any of your three characters and there were plenty of emotes to work with for the textually-challenged. However, after I saw the pros, I was reminded that GE doesn't have the most eloquent or thought-provoking player core and the background story is vague at best.

I chose a humorous name for my family, figuring I would never see another delicious personality on Cervantes, the server that I send and receive packets from on a daily basis. Futanari. Yes, Futanari. On occasion, people notice that my family title is plain insidious and I relish in the positive OOC attention. My character names all have some sort of Futanari/Quasi-sexual reference, such as Reika, Undine (From Claymore, whom I love with all my heart), Trapalicious, New1/2, etc.

So what am I? A hardcore standard gamer or the frighteningly devoted role-player that some remember me as? Unfortunately, more of the former than the latter. I don't have anyone to play with, nobody to express my obsession with. A good 75% of the server doesn't understand what I say, and those who seem to actively engage in the craft are on different servers. Besides, my style is monstrously libidinous and I'll probably be banned for sexual harassment after I start engaging in a deeper, erotic plot. As it stands, I am left with the forums and the recent roleplay contest to sate my desire to be deep, thoughtful and exceptional among others.

However, the contest is not a true avenue of role-play. The second the craft is put into a competitive environment, the true essence wanes. I, frankly, do not enjoy the contest. The damned competition has brought me nothing but stress, ego and apprehension for the future if I should lose (A very likely prospect, I'm afraid. Esme/NineMoons/Presea/EonOmega/DeusAngeles will probably go away with Doriane's favor.) It has been my obsession, it keeps my lids peeled and my nose constantly in a book or hovering over my keyboard. This experience has turned role-play into a vicious monster. Part of me wants to boycott the event, but another demands I acquire the prize for the sake of my own self.

I don't have much to work on, unfortunately. There are a number of holes in the background of GE and I'm unsure if it is entirely appropriate to role-play a RNPC. I'm trying to develop my stock class characters, Reika and Undine, into memorable souls, but I have only a few more days and perhaps three more posts maximum before the event comes to its climax and its ultimate conclusion. Even so, I feel hopeless and nervous in the same stroke. I've been outclassed by so many other writers in my lifetime. If there is an opportunity to escape that grim shadow, the time is now. (GE players will appreciate that line.)

. . . I want to crush my hopes desperately. I want my expectations to be set to the soil before the day they christen the dramatic royalty. This worry resembles the worst role-play related catastrophe I've suffered, the wedding of Lokasenna, where I screamed into the nothingness. I won't kill myself over it, but my pillows will suffer salt and screams like I did before.

My mattress frightens me. If I go to sleep, I will dream of failure.

-Sinborn