Trina Varriale in Second Life

About violence...

 

Second Life is a fantasy world, peopled by avatars driven by flesh and blood humans. As a fresh avatar, I started off as naive, trusting, sharing my love with all and seeing evil in no-one... Keeping it on the surface, I would have carried on like this, roaming the clubs for little friends to play with.

 

But it wasn't long until I started encountering darker people, especially those who dwell in the bdsm world. I did not, and still don't, understand why people like so much to be subject to humiliation, rape, pain... I did, however, completely understand why it would be gratifying to inflict this on others. I guess that puts me firmly into one category, then, although those that know me well will vouch for my love of surrender -- Hey, S and E...*winks* -- based on their role-playing skills.

 

But violence in the role-playing arena is one thing, violence outside of that in SL is another. And, I am sorry to say, I particularly enjoy inflicting violence on griefers.  I have a good friend, who is a builder and photographer. We meet about once every two weeks, and she insists on going to this woman-only build area to do photo shoots... One day, we went there and two idiots started doing stuff to me.  I am ashamed to say, I got really angry about this and so did my friend.  So we took one each; she turned into a demon and torched one of them (highly amusing) whilst I activated my Forces of Nature Defence HUD and rezzed an angry tree who promptly kicked the idiot all around the place. 

But the dickheads came back for more. So I summoned a whirlwind that flew every one around me into orbit, including my friend -- collateral damage, but she did forgive me. Picture, if you wish, my avatar in the middle of a hurricane, with objects and people flying all around her -- the feeling of power was intoxicating.

 

The hurricane abated, the morons returned...I encased them in a tomb, and left them to it.

 

We still meet, my friend and I.  Others have tried to annoy us, but we promptly round on them and give them a good kicking via IM -- I have a new defense robot sphere that circles me while I do this, while my friend morphs into her demon shape.  This is usually enough to deter anyone.  We do not go looking for trouble, but if it finds us, so be it.

 

So my greatest adventure in SL has been the discovery that while I am a little bit too anarchic to fit within the strict bdsm appellations, I certainly enjoy meting out punishment, and, with the right people, receiving it.  I keep the role I assume a complete surprise to those I engage with -- if you get with me, you might get a sweetie, a demon, a slut, a warrior or a bitch, and if you're lucky, all of them.  Who I am is up to you.

 

I wanted also to point out the crucial role played by the mistresses Trina and Jackie, who have helped me come to terms with my emotions and contradictions without seeking to use me, looked after me and guided me in my travels, and also my good friends at Trina's house who have played with me and given my Second Life meaning.

 

Yours, violently and passionately...

 

Diamond

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Avatar DELTA QUINTESSA
(Now a robot Drone known as Deltabot)

Delta Quintessa had the dubious distinction of being beloved by Chaos.

She traveled through Second Life wherever whim would take her, looking for fun and people to play with - a drift that frequently brought her to Doll Island. It was here, amongst the powerful magic and supertechnology of the island, and the diverse types of people and dolls it attracted that Delta's chaotic nature was revealed in full strength.

Delta's form became changeable - transitory.  She could feel itself being adapted to anyone who walked nearby. Surrounded by Barbies, her skin would tighten and begin to take on a gloss and thinking became difficult.  A demon would walk past and the tips of horns would stir under Delta's brow and fill her mind with wickedness.

Over time, Delta's form only became less stable, eventually reaching a point where - if her concentration were broken - she would simply collapse into a pool of pink liquid latex.

Afraid of being lost forever to non-identity, Delta Quintessa turned to a champion of order and uniformity. Miss Anna Excelsior had opened a business called Excelsior Cybernetics - a factory where she freed women from the weaknesses of the human form by transforming them into beautiful, identical, programmed Perfect Girl pleasure robots.

Naked and shivering, Delta felt the cold, unyielding clamps of the factory arms close around her.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  The changes would stop - she would not be Delta Quintessa - but she would be someone - something.  She wouldn't disappear...

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