I was lucky enough to encounter on Twitter, by complete chance the developer known as “CCP”. The sole creative mind behind the hit online game “Eve Online”, CCP has busied himself over the years—in the hopes of enticing investors—with side-project vampire games and the occasional tech demo (jokingly referred to in-house as “walking simulators”). Unfortunately, none of these have ever caught on with the fickle, slow-to-change crowds that inhabit the glacially-slow Icelandic space-world of Eve Online, leaving CCP to dwell—perhaps too much—on the current state of his sprawling space opera and its citizens.
Last Tuesday, during a ranting bout on a popular social media platform, CCP was quoted as, “unhappy with the Machariel”, and “unlikely to continue if things just keep going like this”. He has voiced various opinions about the Machariel’s unquestioned ability to completely “wreck house” and “bring in the big money” for those with “a big enough pair to fly one of these suckers”, but this was the first time in recent history CCP had something somewhat negative to say about the spacecraft, judging by his Twitter account’s page. Firing off a direct message to the clearly distraught and notoriously hands-off developer, I quickly arranged a meeting half way around the world with the elusive one-man team,arriving the next day.
“You know”, CCP quietly muttered to me as I leaned in to hear what followed, practically hugging the frosty coffeehouse table that separated me from the glassy, far-off stare that was distinct to those who spend far too much time indoors, “I really hate the Machariel. I don’t know what I was thinking at the time. I had been reading all these Chinese forums and trying to translate the corp names in Serenity. I just figured I’d throw something together that looked like Mass Effect’s Normandy. Those Asians love Mass Effect, right?” By now, I was mildly confused and considered the intoxication of this man; he worked from home and could drink whenever and as much as he wanted. He had designed a full-freedom-do-whatever-you-want video game after all. All my worries were brushed aside (or perhaps “further enhanced”) when he produced a boot flask to unscrew and swig in full view of the coffeehouse.
“The current meta blows”, he rambled on, despite my skeptical and potentially off-putting stare. “No one even wants to try out my Tech Three stuff. They park them in high security hangars and just let ’em rot. Now that’s an idea…”. This concerned me greatly as, although I’ve never actually played Eve, I knew full well that any concepts by this man, in this state, did not bode well for those who spent every waking moment building their space sandcastles. What he said next could potentially be a typhoon to these player’s beaches, and as sweat beaded on my brow, he continued unfazed.
“Flipping hangar ownership. Like. Hear me out”. The slurring; the far-off stare; everything coming together to hint that this clearly wasn’t the best idea, as he continued regardless of my revulsion. “Okay, say we get rid of NPC stations in null. No no, let’s make them so that you can capture them. So, the one safe place these wackos get to park their precious battleships gets taken away. That’ll really make ’em fight for it, right?” I’d like to take this moment to further clarify that, at no point during this conversation had I agreed to be a part of CCP’s development process and the Eve Onion is merely the finest reporting source. We do not condone, nor suggest, tampering with CCP’s clearly boundless creative process and the thoughts therein. “So all those damn Machariels can go slug it out with whatever the slug-shaped siegeboat whatever they’re using to snipe POS… screw it, let’s just get rid of those as well.” I had to quickly reach across the table to steady the man before me, flask in hand, barely hanging onto the table as onlookers were stopping to stare with concern. “Right, then. I’m going to get to work on… That. The base-flipping in nullsec. Yeah…”.
Before I had a chance to question him further, CCP had slumped from the high-back seat to make his rocky path towards the door. I quickly jogged after him in an attempt to understand just what he was trying to convey here. NPC stations for players? Destroying NPC stations? No more POS deployables? What would this mean for Eve’s vast economy, where even the smallest change caused vast ripples that could make or break hundreds of stable unions? None of it seemed to matter as CCP simply stumbled down the cold Icelandic streets to weave between jutting icicles. “I also hate ice. Boy, what was I thinking? I just wanted everyone to go out there and kill all the ice” he mumbled, nearly impaling himself on one of the outreaching frigid tendrils.
We had barely reached CCP’s modest apartment, a small flat on the east side of Iceland, when he quickly slammed the door shut in my face and announce that the “interview was over” and he’d be “going now”, “back to work”, and other things I barely heard mumbled above a whisper. Something about blowing up the moon and other nonsense. I briefly caught a glimpse of the inner working’s of his apparent office through the crack in the door, though dioramas and models of Battlestar Galactica and Stargate ships nearly entirely blocked out what little I could view of his wall. Notably a massive, signed poster featuring what could very well be the infamous galactic celebrity “The Mittani”—known by most as the most important Eve player to have never actually played Eve. Surrounding it was merely smaller crops of various xXxDEATHxXx staff for reasons unknown to me.
Alone and frightened, I stumbled home with the hope to warn EVE’s denizens of their impending typhoon, only to realize far too late that CCP had access to the internet and social media from his Icelandic hovel—the potential update had been announced and the media frenzy had begun. I was lucky to have made it out alive.
