Playtest 1

I’m playing through as a Street Sailor. On my way back from lunch, while trying to remember where my American Government class from last year was, I find a small nook in front of one of the campus buildings that I’d never noticed before—an obvious site for name-finding. There’s a concrete path and a path of stones and dirt; I take the latter. There’s a spot to sit that covers a large pipe or well downward. That, my road here, and the silver fire escape that catches my eye in front of me all confirm; my first name will be a Sneaking+Climbing name.

I eat my lunch, then take a closer look around. The bright blue flower right to my left seems significant. An app on my phone tells me it’s most likely an Asiatic dayflower, Commelina cyanea, scurvy weed. Scurvy weed for a sailor? I’m glad I checked. Lots of good material to mine from here.

The other sign I feel drawn to is the green emblem on one of the campus banners that promote various strategies for taking care of mental health. There are many in that area, but it’s the only one visible from where I sit. I walk up the concrete path to get closer to it, and the bright green of the Lime bikes and scooters at the end of the path confirm my choice.

The banner implores me to “talk about my feelings.” As I lean against the post it hangs from, I catch one clear soundbite. I don’t quite catch the words, but I jot down the closest thing I can approximate. It sounds remarkably similar to my own name.

I sit down to take these notes. When I decide to turn back and see if taking the dayflower for myself seems to be the right move, I notice something I first mistook for a dried-up earthworm, but that is actually a small dead snake. It’s posed in an S shape. Perhaps a 5.

On the way back to the dayflower, two people pass by speaking Korean. I catch two words: 죽겠다 and 봅시다. “I would die.” “Let’s go see.”

The dayflower that caught my eye feels as though it should stay here. I spot two others that have opened; one I’d seen the first time around, the other I hadn’t. I ask if this is the right move, and all seems well.

I take the latter, and ultimately leave it with the snake. Seems only right.

Back at my apartment, I compile the name, a process that takes much less time than I’d expected. It doesn’t sound quite like what I’d half-envisioned—Sneaking and Climbing together first suggested to me gaining access to places one shouldn’t be allowed to even get to, and this name is… brighter-tasting than that? It holds a sense of authority, and indeed, of snakes hissing in the midst of ordinary utterances. It feels like it wants to confer a sense of trustworthiness, to conceal the knife brought into the place of business.

I am also noting that dayflowers are invasive to North America.

Writing “to conceal the knife brought into the place of business” is making my heart race in a very particular way. This is where the liveliness of this word lives. That’s it, then. This name is for opening otherwise closed-off pathways by emanating trust and authority, preferably to allow subterfuge to carry on underneath its mantle.

Hopefully I won't need to use this name any time soon, but it may well prove worth having on hand. 

I have also scoped out a spot that would be good for creating a Dazzling+Wiring name in, if it got more foot traffic than I last saw it having. Perhaps on another day. If I can think of a good use for such a name (and I'm sure I can), I'd like to make my next playtest update on making and using it.