Fountellion in THE SPIRAL: Greenwise & the Nature of the Game

SUPER-LOG (0): A Last Chance to Level-Up...

[Extract - 'Fountellion' Sessions with Pioneer Dan Harvester]

<Pinng!> "...You've received a new email, Dan."

"I'll just read it on my wrist, ok?"

I'm in no mood to hear my house-bot's dry voice today; not even to listen to the confirmation of new access into another super-alluring, super game world...

Actually, the title of the message just read: 'A Personal Invitation...'

Oh yeah, it was the one I found in the pocket of my avatar. 

I've not had a 'personal' invitation to anything; for quite a while. I know it's not a fake; I have been expecting the message. Waiting, I guess. It's from my new 'friend' whom I've never met, Professor Fielding, who I've been reading about, a lot, recently. An architect... or just another thief, stealing more reality from the world? 

That's ok: he can take some more of mine. I get quite enough of a certain type of reality. 

I would like to meet the guy. I might even, as long as I don't get too bored in the interim. Attention, these days - especially mine - is pretty limited.

I take another sip of strong coffee, and a good drag of a smooth cigarette. It's the first one of the day. My day off. So it's the best one. (Why not? I'll be dead one day. And I won't know about it. Maybe, I'll be somewhere else... or just... dead... Energy = 0.)

Everything around me here is old and rotting, stealthily. Even the couch where I'm sitting, comfortably at least. Apathy? Boredom? It could be a disease - this lethargy - which has been creeping into the fibre of everything around here – and into me – for sometime, and as I begin the slide into my late thirties.

At least it's all under my control; and I've got no extra rods for my own back. Not yet.

I'm still playing video games. What the hell is wrong with that? I'm still playing. 

I take another drag.

The smoke will linger on, with the coffee, and – I hope – this 'new' game will linger too. Because I've played a few in my time. And the fun – and the point – wears off after a while. 

Metaverses are better, but more addictive. They take over. Virtually everyone's into some kind of one of them, these days. But then, we always have been. 

We're all players... to the end. 

Beneath the stranger games; the darker ones, aren't we all playing the same one, really? Simpler; more direct. It would be called 'Energy'. To continue its flow and its survival. It burns and smokes like this cigarette. The trouble these days is the lines have blurred. They overflow. Technology – and its ceaseless appeal – means that you can make a living playing others. Games within games. Writing about them. Winning them, if you're lucky, and if you care.

It was never about winning for me. Just progressing deep enough into them, to see new things and share time with some friends, or meet an interesting girl – that was always cool. We talked about games. We laughed – loads – at the crazy moments they create. It was fun. Then... I got bored. I played another. 

But I never felt like I was progressing... beyond their confines, or beyond the promise of the next title. Maybe they were just never good enough. They're all so... displaced still. Looking for roots...