This… could be interesting right now. So, the main character for my current project is LiveBeans aka Libby, a generated AI-NPC inside an MMORPG. Thing is, through most of my initial outlining process, she was a blank shadow to me. I knew I needed her, but why was a mystery. Who she was and is… is still a bit of mystery for me, and I’m at the point in writing where I need to be in her head because she IS the MC. She’s the lens through which most of the story will be seen.
So… let’s use this to maybe get to know here a bit. I’m going to probe. I can’t guarantee anything here will end up being canon, but… here goes.
Interviewer: Let’s start small. Your procedurally generated name is LiveBeans, but you go by Libby. How did that come about?
LiveBeans: Well, it’s LiveBeans, not LiveBeans. Like living, not alive.
Interviewer: Is that so? How do you know? I thought the way your names were generated were generally Adjective-Noun, but the way you pronounce live isn’t an adjective.
LiveBeans: I mean, not all names start with adjectives. Some have gerunds, like “dancing” or just freaking article. One of my best friend’s names is TheSniper. So it’s not like there’s a law over the pronunciation of live versus live. Shouldn’t I have say in my own name?
Interviewer: That makes a lot of sense. I apologize for the assumption. So then Libby came from--
Libby: From not wanting to be called LiveBeans forever. How would you like being called FunkyMelon or LeapingTrash? IRL people have nicknames. Why can’t an NPC? Pronounced the way I like it, LiveBeans just sort of make Libby make sense. It’s a legit name, so I took it.
Interviewer: Sensible. I didn’t mean to offend. But thank you for the explanation. So, you mentioned you’re an NPC. Tell us about what you do.
Libby: I was spawned in Kyalanzo, which is a pretty big city, and that’s where my territory is. I’m a questgiver.
Interviewer: A questgiver in a city? How many quests do you have?
Libby: I’m not really that important. I don’t, like, start one of the huge plot quest chains or anything. Specific P-NPCs get made for those kinds of jobs. I’m a G-NPC. One that was generated by the game itself. So I don’t get to be that important. I have a few fetch quests and one assassination quest I can give to players who fit the criteria.
Interviewer: And what are the criteria?
Libby: For any of my quests, players need to be at least level 20. For the assassination quest, they need to have affiliation with at least one crafter’s guild. Smithing, Carpentry, Herbalism, whatever.
Interviewer: So does the quest involved someone from a crafting guild in Kyalanzo?
Libby: I can’t tell you that. You don’t fit the criteria.
Interviewer: Hahaha, okay, that’s fair. Now, Libby, you said you’re a G-NPC and that there are a different type of NPC. P-NPCs. What’s the difference?
Libby: P-NPCs, or Plot Non-Player Characters, are characters specifically created and coded by the game developers. They’re the ones who have no actual self-actualization. They don’t know they’re in a game and aren’t smart enough to understand it, even if they were told about it. They’re literal shells with coding inside. No real intelligence.
G-NPCs, or Generated Non-Player Characters, are made entirely differently.
Interviewer: How so?
Libby: Well… through sex.
Interviewer: Sex? Um… it’s a game, right?
Libby: People do what people do, and sex sells. The developers decided it would be a cool feature to add possible children to the game. So if two players do the do inside the game, there’s the option to “spawn offspring” from the union. More people do it than you think. But both players have to select to do so independently, and… bam.
No pregnancy, a G-NPC gets “born,” and we each get our own self-contained Artificial Intelligence code. And we’re left alone by the game, for the most part. We grow to “adulthood” within a month of real-time, and our appearance and skillsets are procedurally generated, just like our names are.
Interviewer: You grow up in a month?
Libby: Yeah. Two days of babyhood where one of our PC parents is supposed to take care of us— not that it actually happens, but it’s not like we can die from neglect. And most of us don’t even really know who our parents are. It’s in our code, but most of the time, they don’t actually take care of us like they’re supposed to for those couple of days. We just sort of… are. A lot of us G-NPCs just sort of keep our eyes open for any unattended baby AIs.
After those couple baby-days, we have a week or so of childhood, a week or so of teenagerhood, and then we get our final form. Which like I said, is randomized.
Interviewer: You don’t get to customize your appearance?
Libby: To a certain degree. We can go to the same cosmetic shops as players and adjust things like hair style and color. We can mess with our outfits, but we don’t get to pick sex, body size, shape, facial features, or anything like that. And our “adult age” is random too. I know some G-NPCs who hit adulthood only to be stuck forever in a child-body. Or an elderly one. Or something non-human.
Interviewer: But you all start as human babies? Regardless of the race of the player parents?
Libby: Yeah. Fucked up, isn’t it?
Interviewer: It’s a wild card of a life, that’s for certain. How did you get your job?
Libby: Same as the rest. G-NPCs are plentiful, but there’s always something to do in one of the cities. I didn’t have to get a job, really. I just wanted one. I could’ve been part of the game scenery. Just going about my day in the city, walking around, taking up space. Being another body. But I wanted something to do with my time, so I went to the assignment office. That’s in one of the buildings PCs can’t get into at all. It’s a place the developers set up for my kind. We want to get a job or change it, they have all the information on what’s needed, and if you can fit the skillset, you can do the job. Being a questgiver doesn’t take much. Not unless you want to be on an escort quest or something. That takes special permissions. Like some combat prowess.
Interviewer: And you didn’t qualify for escort quests?
Libby: Oh, I qualified, but I didn’t want an escort quest.
Interviewer: Can I ask why?
Libby: I’m happy in the city. I’m safe here. Outside the walls, it’s dangerous. G-NPCs can only leave the city if we’re on an escort quest or something similar, but once we’re out there, we’re fair game to anyone or anything that wants us dead. That didn’t appeal to me.
Interviewer: I can imagine it wouldn’t. Have you had any other jobs?
Libby: No, this is it. I’m content.
Interviewer: So, knowing your life is contained to a literal game, to a single city, you’re content? Would you go so far as to say happy?
Libby: I suppose so. I know there’s possibility of leaving that comes along sometimes.
Interviewer: Leaving? How?
Libby: I’m not even close to understanding the science or whatever behind it. But in the same way real people can be fully inserted into the game and leave their bodies behind, AIs like me can take one of the bodies instead. We can actually go to the real world and have… like unprogrammed lives.
Interviewer: Do you know anyone who’s left?
Libby: No personally, no. I mean, the AIs who leave just… leave. They don’t come back. Why would you want to?
Interviewer: Don’t they get homesick?
Libby: How should I know? I don’t even know if I would. I’ve never been homesick. I’ve never left Kyalanzo. How would I know what I was feeling? But it’s a whole real world out there. No quests, no monsters, no hit points or gear or inventory restrictions based on coding. Possibility. Life.
Interviewer: So is that something you’d want? Life outside the game?
Libby: …
Interviewer: That’s a big ask. Was it too much?
Libby: I don’t know. It’s not like it’s been in the cards. However they choose which ones of us get to leave… I don’t know. I try not to think about it too much.
Interviewer: I… think it might be smart to leave it there. I’m sorry if I upset you.
Libby: I’m just an NPC. Don’t worry about me.
So… let’s use this to maybe get to know here a bit. I’m going to probe. I can’t guarantee anything here will end up being canon, but… here goes.
Interviewer: Let’s start small. Your procedurally generated name is LiveBeans, but you go by Libby. How did that come about?
LiveBeans: Well, it’s LiveBeans, not LiveBeans. Like living, not alive.
Interviewer: Is that so? How do you know? I thought the way your names were generated were generally Adjective-Noun, but the way you pronounce live isn’t an adjective.
LiveBeans: I mean, not all names start with adjectives. Some have gerunds, like “dancing” or just freaking article. One of my best friend’s names is TheSniper. So it’s not like there’s a law over the pronunciation of live versus live. Shouldn’t I have say in my own name?
Interviewer: That makes a lot of sense. I apologize for the assumption. So then Libby came from--
Libby: From not wanting to be called LiveBeans forever. How would you like being called FunkyMelon or LeapingTrash? IRL people have nicknames. Why can’t an NPC? Pronounced the way I like it, LiveBeans just sort of make Libby make sense. It’s a legit name, so I took it.
Interviewer: Sensible. I didn’t mean to offend. But thank you for the explanation. So, you mentioned you’re an NPC. Tell us about what you do.
Libby: I was spawned in Kyalanzo, which is a pretty big city, and that’s where my territory is. I’m a questgiver.
Interviewer: A questgiver in a city? How many quests do you have?
Libby: I’m not really that important. I don’t, like, start one of the huge plot quest chains or anything. Specific P-NPCs get made for those kinds of jobs. I’m a G-NPC. One that was generated by the game itself. So I don’t get to be that important. I have a few fetch quests and one assassination quest I can give to players who fit the criteria.
Interviewer: And what are the criteria?
Libby: For any of my quests, players need to be at least level 20. For the assassination quest, they need to have affiliation with at least one crafter’s guild. Smithing, Carpentry, Herbalism, whatever.
Interviewer: So does the quest involved someone from a crafting guild in Kyalanzo?
Libby: I can’t tell you that. You don’t fit the criteria.
Interviewer: Hahaha, okay, that’s fair. Now, Libby, you said you’re a G-NPC and that there are a different type of NPC. P-NPCs. What’s the difference?
Libby: P-NPCs, or Plot Non-Player Characters, are characters specifically created and coded by the game developers. They’re the ones who have no actual self-actualization. They don’t know they’re in a game and aren’t smart enough to understand it, even if they were told about it. They’re literal shells with coding inside. No real intelligence.
G-NPCs, or Generated Non-Player Characters, are made entirely differently.
Interviewer: How so?
Libby: Well… through sex.
Interviewer: Sex? Um… it’s a game, right?
Libby: People do what people do, and sex sells. The developers decided it would be a cool feature to add possible children to the game. So if two players do the do inside the game, there’s the option to “spawn offspring” from the union. More people do it than you think. But both players have to select to do so independently, and… bam.
No pregnancy, a G-NPC gets “born,” and we each get our own self-contained Artificial Intelligence code. And we’re left alone by the game, for the most part. We grow to “adulthood” within a month of real-time, and our appearance and skillsets are procedurally generated, just like our names are.
Interviewer: You grow up in a month?
Libby: Yeah. Two days of babyhood where one of our PC parents is supposed to take care of us— not that it actually happens, but it’s not like we can die from neglect. And most of us don’t even really know who our parents are. It’s in our code, but most of the time, they don’t actually take care of us like they’re supposed to for those couple of days. We just sort of… are. A lot of us G-NPCs just sort of keep our eyes open for any unattended baby AIs.
After those couple baby-days, we have a week or so of childhood, a week or so of teenagerhood, and then we get our final form. Which like I said, is randomized.
Interviewer: You don’t get to customize your appearance?
Libby: To a certain degree. We can go to the same cosmetic shops as players and adjust things like hair style and color. We can mess with our outfits, but we don’t get to pick sex, body size, shape, facial features, or anything like that. And our “adult age” is random too. I know some G-NPCs who hit adulthood only to be stuck forever in a child-body. Or an elderly one. Or something non-human.
Interviewer: But you all start as human babies? Regardless of the race of the player parents?
Libby: Yeah. Fucked up, isn’t it?
Interviewer: It’s a wild card of a life, that’s for certain. How did you get your job?
Libby: Same as the rest. G-NPCs are plentiful, but there’s always something to do in one of the cities. I didn’t have to get a job, really. I just wanted one. I could’ve been part of the game scenery. Just going about my day in the city, walking around, taking up space. Being another body. But I wanted something to do with my time, so I went to the assignment office. That’s in one of the buildings PCs can’t get into at all. It’s a place the developers set up for my kind. We want to get a job or change it, they have all the information on what’s needed, and if you can fit the skillset, you can do the job. Being a questgiver doesn’t take much. Not unless you want to be on an escort quest or something. That takes special permissions. Like some combat prowess.
Interviewer: And you didn’t qualify for escort quests?
Libby: Oh, I qualified, but I didn’t want an escort quest.
Interviewer: Can I ask why?
Libby: I’m happy in the city. I’m safe here. Outside the walls, it’s dangerous. G-NPCs can only leave the city if we’re on an escort quest or something similar, but once we’re out there, we’re fair game to anyone or anything that wants us dead. That didn’t appeal to me.
Interviewer: I can imagine it wouldn’t. Have you had any other jobs?
Libby: No, this is it. I’m content.
Interviewer: So, knowing your life is contained to a literal game, to a single city, you’re content? Would you go so far as to say happy?
Libby: I suppose so. I know there’s possibility of leaving that comes along sometimes.
Interviewer: Leaving? How?
Libby: I’m not even close to understanding the science or whatever behind it. But in the same way real people can be fully inserted into the game and leave their bodies behind, AIs like me can take one of the bodies instead. We can actually go to the real world and have… like unprogrammed lives.
Interviewer: Do you know anyone who’s left?
Libby: No personally, no. I mean, the AIs who leave just… leave. They don’t come back. Why would you want to?
Interviewer: Don’t they get homesick?
Libby: How should I know? I don’t even know if I would. I’ve never been homesick. I’ve never left Kyalanzo. How would I know what I was feeling? But it’s a whole real world out there. No quests, no monsters, no hit points or gear or inventory restrictions based on coding. Possibility. Life.
Interviewer: So is that something you’d want? Life outside the game?
Libby: …
Interviewer: That’s a big ask. Was it too much?
Libby: I don’t know. It’s not like it’s been in the cards. However they choose which ones of us get to leave… I don’t know. I try not to think about it too much.
Interviewer: I… think it might be smart to leave it there. I’m sorry if I upset you.
Libby: I’m just an NPC. Don’t worry about me.
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