Griefer

Written 14 December, 2006

Griefer

If you’re tired of reading My Volcano, I don’t blame you. I’m tired from writing it.

Things happen so fast in SL for me that it’s been difficult to get current. I’ve been trying to recapture some of the highlights and low moments of my early days, and I’m getting there. Soon I’ll be able to actually blog—react to and reflect upon what has recently happened.

This post is a blogging moment.

I was griefed last night (grieved? aggrieved?).

It was in the wee hours. I had logged off after a great night dancing at Velvet with Exuberance and Patrice and her wife Veronique (who I finally got to meet). I had stuck a turkey in the first-life oven earlier (no room for it in the freezer. Plan ahead, Chey!) and it was finally done. I ate steaming hot white meat while watching the last few minutes of Battlestar Galactica and the first few minutes of Medium (thank you, TiVo!), then went upstairs. Instead of going to bed, as I should have done, I opened Second Life and logged on.

I was absorbed in the construction of a pier on the riverfront when green fireballs began to fall into the sand around me. Some of them actually struck me.

I flew to caldera level to get a look around and spotted an avatar hovering over Dodgeguy’s lagoon. He was holding what looked to be an Airzooka and looking like a FNG. Indeed, he had been born that very day.

“You must not strike me with objects, I said in IM. “It’s against the rules of Second Life.”

He flew over and landed on the beach, and said “I’m new and don’t know what to do.”

I told him he shouldn’t be doing things he wouldn’t do in his First Life, like shooting objects at people.

“If you had asked me, I would have given you permission,” I said. “But you ambushed me.”

He asked what I was building, and I told him it was a pier for my catamaran. He wanted to see the cat, so I drug it out onto the sand. He asked if I was sure if it would hold me. I looked heavy, he said.

I said, “I’m not heavy. I’m just tall, that’s all.”

I moved a piling, then looked up and he was naked. And, of course, FNGing dickless.

“Ewww!” I said. “Put some clothes on right now if you want to stay on my land.” He didn’t, just threw objects at me and feigned innocence when I told him to stop. “You must be a lesbian,” he said.

That one struck close to home. I’m not a lesbian, and I’m pretty sure my avatar isn’t, but she is having strong feelings for another female av.

“And you must be an asshole,” I said, and pulled out the RPG Patrice had given me and blew his ass away.

Only it didn’t work that way. It didn’t knock him three sims away, as I had thought it would. When the smoke and flames had died away, he was still there.

“That did nothing,” he said.

“Put some clothes on or leave right now,” I said and opened the About Land menu.

He was still there, still naked and dickless when I banned him. He was instantly gone. I’ve not seen him since.

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Photo 1: Don't mess with a woman with a rocket-propelled grenade!

Photo 2: Chey's pier

nb; I filed a harassment report.