A Ghost Of Done.
May. 30th, 2009 09:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsI had a story idea that I'm not going to write, just because I don't have time.
Kouryou-chan and I talked about long-running games on-line that put characters into "holding patterns" if you don't come back to them after a while. Other games, however, allow characters to die. The original is the Tamagotchi, of course, but nowadays there are hundreds of these "come back soon or your friend/pet/animal will be sad/dead" ideas out there.
So I had an idea, a kind of Dante's Inferno meets Tron, where someone gets "Translated" into the Tron universe but ends up in the children's section, where sad-eyed WebKinz e-pets, long forgotten by easily-distracted children, pace around their translucent rooms and approach characters saying, "I haven't eaten in 160 days. Will you feed me?" and "I haven't gone to the potty in 218 days. Will you open the door to the bathroom for me?" I imagine Sisyphean stables of Bella Sara horses buried in pooped-out gumdrops and redolent with rose-scented Bella Sara horsefarts; I imagine MyTribes islands where only adorable corpses litter the beaches.
I imagine that someday AIs will gain citizenship and sue our adult children for the horrors they inflicted on the SIs for whom they were responsible.
Kouryou-chan and I talked about long-running games on-line that put characters into "holding patterns" if you don't come back to them after a while. Other games, however, allow characters to die. The original is the Tamagotchi, of course, but nowadays there are hundreds of these "come back soon or your friend/pet/animal will be sad/dead" ideas out there.
So I had an idea, a kind of Dante's Inferno meets Tron, where someone gets "Translated" into the Tron universe but ends up in the children's section, where sad-eyed WebKinz e-pets, long forgotten by easily-distracted children, pace around their translucent rooms and approach characters saying, "I haven't eaten in 160 days. Will you feed me?" and "I haven't gone to the potty in 218 days. Will you open the door to the bathroom for me?" I imagine Sisyphean stables of Bella Sara horses buried in pooped-out gumdrops and redolent with rose-scented Bella Sara horsefarts; I imagine MyTribes islands where only adorable corpses litter the beaches.
I imagine that someday AIs will gain citizenship and sue our adult children for the horrors they inflicted on the SIs for whom they were responsible.
