Articles

Uru
Live – Musings on
a World Gone

By Laura MacDonald

It seems odd to me – but twice now in my miniscule time on
these big blue orb, it is a “mere computer game” that
has caused me to dig deep into my thoughts.

In this moment, at this
time – events have shattered many.
Violence seems to surround. Differences between people, between factions,
between families – between us and them. It resonates through
out all that I seem to touch, read and even breathe, on a consuming
level. I am one of those, who revels in the mundane, in the simple
touches – the subtle sight that somehow breaks through that
barrier we erect to shield ourselves from the pushes and shoves of
the world at large.

It is in the surprise
of a song I had long forgotten, but loved at one time, dancing
through my speakers – driving along a
quiet road in the fading light. It is in looking up and seeing a
child shyly touch their parent’s arm, and seeing that parent
softly pull them a little closer as they walk through a parking lot.
It is private and small, but it speaks volumes and gives my heart
a lift.

Which brings me to URU
Live.

I passed through the beta,
I am at heart a solitary gamer. Though the testing was due to a
variety of reasons done all online, I was
slow to enter into much contact with others. Though many who know
me – perhaps view me as outgoing, somewhat fey and even boisterous.
With things that matter, with personal discoveries – I am shy
and concealing. To reveal what truly matters is the biggest risk
there is. Perhaps because I traveled through URU in a replicant form,
I intuitively behaved truer to myself. I pulled myself to join a
guild. I thought this would hasten my involvement. Even then, though
I was a member of a Guild whose charter task was to greet new explorers
and aid them in their adventures, a shyness prevented me from frequent
postings and camaraderie. Instead, I found myself reverting to type
and acting as a roving helper. I would find myself walking along
a ledge and see a person calling out for help with something in another
age and chat them through. This one on one quiet contact suited me
well. I was also not one who ever gravitated to the “hoods” which
grew by leaps and bounds once URU went officially live. In fact,
the nomenclature of live, truly didn’t grab me until shortly
after the release, when I ventured back to the city..

Ahhh here was something
I had not anticipated and reveled in. I ran everywhere. Why – not really sure, maybe if I ran fast
enough I could observe without chatting. But the small, the normal,
all the little things that reminded me of the world – the part
that I love was there. People chatting in alleyways, people walking
or running to some destination all their own. Sometimes I would just
sit and watch the URU world go on around me. A swirl of movement
and passing faces. A cacophony of sound. URU life.

I wasn’t even really interested in finding the markers that
appeared, though I did get the first 15 so I could go and sit by
the great zero – a marvel of crystal, light and energy. I suppose
like many wanderers do, I felt that there was plenty of time to get
into quests, to join in the game. But as with life, things are not
always certain or assured. Not time, not tasks – not even worlds.

But here is the rub. URU,
virtual and hand crafted though it was – was
not just a world of life – it was a world apart. I did venture
into the city late and engage in group encounters, as I became more
at peace with the city and my place there. There was a commonality
within people that was expressed in a wonderful engaging way. Here
all their happy pure hearted parts came out to play. Hide and Seek.
Storming barricades – well like when we were kids – just
because they were there. If there was nothing seemingly to do, we
amused ourselves, People concocted games to play, things to do. Maybe
we could climb the tent rope and sit up on the tent. Maybe if we
all jumped up and down at the same time – we would break the
world. I have not known such pure pleasure in such a long time. There
were probably conflicts somewhere, but the whole time I romped around
the place – I saw none. No fighting, no disdain, no jaded sense
of what “grown-ups” are supposed to do. Who hasn’t
looked up at a nice low branch and thought – Wouldn’t
it be nice to just see if I can still climb up there and swing through
the branches. But our stature in the world or status as “all
grown-up now” stops our thoughts short and we return to responsibilities.
Not so in URU. It was as if we could shed our skins and play again.

Do you remember what that felt like? To play? To spend a whole day
walking around and do nothing more important than lie in the grass
and watch the clouds, or build a stick dam across a stream and see
if you could finally fill a jar with tad poles? Or swing so high,
it felt like you were in the sky? In URU Live, in that world apart.
I could just be, run, listen, spin in circles, whatever chanced into
my mind and that was ok. Everyone else was doing the same. In URU you could just play. It was so wonderful.

Then, came the unexpected. A scant few months from release of Prime,
URU Live was to be quieted, turned off, shut down. Her lights turned
off, linking books shelved, nexus points removed, the great zero
turning in a city gone to silence.

I had viewed my involvement
in URU as somewhat passive, that I was not that deeply immersed.
But as with many things we encounter, the
threat of sudden loss – caused me to recognize how entangled
in this world apart I had become. I recalled a chorus from a song, “I
came to recognize, that I don’t know how to let you go”.
At that moment I felt a true sense of loss wash over me. So, I pocketed
my awareness and took it to URU. I resolved not to waste one moment.
It has been quite some time, when I threw all my responsibilities
to the wind and with total self-interest rambled in an adventure
of my own choosing. I didn’t view this as obsessive, but a
practical embrace of getting the most out of my world apart while
it was still here.

What a wondrous four days.
It was a frenzy of people, coming and going – gathering in groups, helping each other finish some
last quest, even sitting at midnight atop the Grand staircase one
night.. Gatherings of two would quickly grow, as others would see
them stopped and come up to see what was up. I spent more time talking
to people – sometimes standing in place for hours. I loved
every second of it. I took pictures of everything and spent hours
labeling them. Last night on Atrus, last time at the great zero.
last great top of the tent dance and so on. Somehow – I had
this thought, that if I recorded all the people I saw, every place
in the city – it would stay alive, never die, be there in my
memories, brought to mind like the last whisper of an old song.

Then there were the death
watches. Confusion reigned as to the exact time. Was it 12:am Monday – meaning 11:59 Sunday night? No,
well then perhaps noon on Monday. Standing with a group atop the
grand staircase in Atrus, we all realized the clock ticked on and
we were still there. Then it became clear, midnight that night was
the correct time. I grabbed a few hours of sleep and returned. People
were nervous, edgy, giddy and sad all at the same time. It was madness,
it was silliness, it was grief, it was everything – it was
wonderful. In the end, it was like what I sometimes imagine death
might be like. The seconds ticked by at the appointed time, then
minutes. We were all still there and still could talk to one another.
Then without a sound or warning, I realized that though I could still
run, climb, shout and hear the city, all those around me were still.
I was like a ghost in my world apart. SO I moved and then ran up
the stairs, nope still here. I decided to take pictures of everyone
in the city on that night – at that moment – for as long as
I could. It took me two hours to get all the shots. One, I had to
climb the tent rope to get, others I had to scale rubble. Finally
when the last avi was recorded, I went to the edge of the rubble
field at Tokatah alley and thought about one last panic link off
into the abyss. Suddenly it all froze. Then it went black. However
I could still hear the city all around me. I stopped and listened
for many minutes, then when I had said my final goodbyes – I
left my world apart and then I came home.