[Since I don't know who the actual GMs for Virtue are, or what sort of set-up they get to play with, this is made up of whole cloth.]
Emily enjoyed her job. Not many people got to play games for a living. Yet, as a "Game Master" for City of Heroes and City of Villains, she was able to do exactly that. On a bleeding edge set-up on NCSoft's dime, no less. She sipped her coffee and put it back on the side table away from her keyboard.
As usual for Friday night, she was in charge of moderating the player-run events in Pocket D. The community always came up with interesting things to do, and while some got a little high-spirited, she seldom had to seriously "modsmack" players. She sent a tell to a couple of players "cybering" in broadcast to either take it to team or tells.
She smiled as she saw the "forum celebrities" hanging out in the usual place. She moved her viewpoint to observe what Moggie and Dragonberry were up to. Apparently they had set up a "Pocket D Open Mic Night." The swarm of catgirls included Moggie, Wilds Child and Pouncetta Purrfect, while Dragonberry was in her main costume of a green-skinned reptilian humanoid in a scarf and baggy socks.
[Tell]--Moggie:Hello! Would you like for Ghost Widow to award a temporary title to your winner?
[Tell]Moggie:Sure, Emily! You know we appreciate her taking the time to show up for these little things.
[Tell]--Moggie: She'll be just a moment.
Emily took a moment to check for petitions, but it seemed that "GM_Chris" had things under control. She reached past the drawing of a lovely Paragon Police officer surrounded by police drones and checked the schedule at Cryptic. Smiling, she dialled the number to see who she could get to run Ghost Widow for Open Mic Night.
While she waited, she looked again at the drawing and smiled. She looked nothing like the woman in the drawing (oh how she wished she did), but one of the players on Virtue had sent it to her care of NCSoft after a particularly trying occurence and some improv RP she'd done while waiting for the tech guys to tell her how to fix what was specifically wrong with the player's mission. She'd essentially played as though her drone avatar was a VR telepresence for Police Lieutenant Emily Morris of the Guardian Mecha division of the PPD, thus "GM_Emily." She had, of course, made up the last name to avoid real-life stalker tendencies.
She finally reached someone at Cryptic and they readily agreed to put someone on Ghost Widow for the event.
It was a decision which would haunt her for a long time.
[Tell]Ghost Widow: ((okay I'm here, where's the event?))
[Tell]--Ghost Widow: Pocket D, on the dance floor by the floating truck
[Broadcast]Moggie: Ladies and gentlemen! Put your hands together for Arachnos' own GHOST! WIDOW!
Emily smiled and was about to "go public" with her drone, when the building shook and the lights flickered. Since California was earthquake country, she began to rise from her chair when her screen glowed brighter. She heard a few startled shouts from her co-workers and passed out as the light engulfed her.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
Emily enjoyed her job. Not many people got to play games for a living. Yet, as a "Game Master" for City of Heroes and City of Villains, she was able to do exactly that. On a bleeding edge set-up on NCSoft's dime, no less. She sipped her coffee and put it back on the side table away from her keyboard.
As usual for Friday night, she was in charge of moderating the player-run events in Pocket D. The community always came up with interesting things to do, and while some got a little high-spirited, she seldom had to seriously "modsmack" players. She sent a tell to a couple of players "cybering" in broadcast to either take it to team or tells.
She smiled as she saw the "forum celebrities" hanging out in the usual place. She moved her viewpoint to observe what Moggie and Dragonberry were up to. Apparently they had set up a "Pocket D Open Mic Night." The swarm of catgirls included Moggie, Wilds Child and Pouncetta Purrfect, while Dragonberry was in her main costume of a green-skinned reptilian humanoid in a scarf and baggy socks.
[Tell]--Moggie:Hello! Would you like for Ghost Widow to award a temporary title to your winner?
[Tell]Moggie:Sure, Emily! You know we appreciate her taking the time to show up for these little things.
[Tell]--Moggie: She'll be just a moment.
Emily took a moment to check for petitions, but it seemed that "GM_Chris" had things under control. She reached past the drawing of a lovely Paragon Police officer surrounded by police drones and checked the schedule at Cryptic. Smiling, she dialled the number to see who she could get to run Ghost Widow for Open Mic Night.
While she waited, she looked again at the drawing and smiled. She looked nothing like the woman in the drawing (oh how she wished she did), but one of the players on Virtue had sent it to her care of NCSoft after a particularly trying occurence and some improv RP she'd done while waiting for the tech guys to tell her how to fix what was specifically wrong with the player's mission. She'd essentially played as though her drone avatar was a VR telepresence for Police Lieutenant Emily Morris of the Guardian Mecha division of the PPD, thus "GM_Emily." She had, of course, made up the last name to avoid real-life stalker tendencies.
She finally reached someone at Cryptic and they readily agreed to put someone on Ghost Widow for the event.
It was a decision which would haunt her for a long time.
[Tell]Ghost Widow: ((okay I'm here, where's the event?))
[Tell]--Ghost Widow: Pocket D, on the dance floor by the floating truck
[Broadcast]Moggie: Ladies and gentlemen! Put your hands together for Arachnos' own GHOST! WIDOW!
Emily smiled and was about to "go public" with her drone, when the building shook and the lights flickered. Since California was earthquake country, she began to rise from her chair when her screen glowed brighter. She heard a few startled shouts from her co-workers and passed out as the light engulfed her.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll