Written by Citizen Alpha Sunday, 24 January 2010 03:03

Article Index
The Rise and Fall of CCNGTA
The Glory Days
The Gangs of CCNGTA
Circling the Drain
Why so serious LSPD?
The Gift of Embitterment
The WTFMan Debacle
The Return of CCNGTA
Derailed Mindset of the Long Time Player
The Splinter Servers
The End
Epilogue
All Pages

The End

All being said it was a rough ride. There were times when I felt bitter and hurt by some of the actions by our community however it was far outweighed by what we’ve accomplished here. As I stated when I started this story, this is just my account of it and it may seem a little negative when you read it but this is the untold portions of what we’ve done. CCNGTA ran from Sept 9th 2007 to Oct 17th 2008. During that time we saw thousands upon thousands of players. We hovered in the top ten game servers for a considerable amount of time, even bounced off the ceiling for the number one coveted spot. The whole thing was never supposed to run for as long as it had, to be honest it took off with me chained to the side.

This whole thing was an astounding success in my eyes. The numbers don’t lie. We can’t fake the flurry of activity on the forums. We can’t make up the figures produced by the game rankings. There’s no one spinning player stories or experiences they had. We all had a lot of fun, despite some people’s best efforts. I’ve written a story like this before documenting events revolving around a game server and I’m going to end this story in a similar manner with a slight modification. Last time I told people about where I think my life might be going from here.

My life has significantly changed since all this started, CCNGTA unrelated. Granted things have been difficult for me but nothing can really stop the positive changes that are happening. My career in web development is flourishing and I’m in the process of getting a startup company off the ground for web consulting. As it turns out I have a knack for marketing web sites and after repeated successes with small businesses I’m laying the groundwork for something more official then simple freelance work.

CCN continues to move forward as we take more of an initiative to produce front page articles and content. We still receive roughly the same level of hits we do when the server was operational even if the interaction is slightly less. Before when I wrote my story I ended it wondering if this would be the last time I would engage in an endeavor that would put me in the public eye. For some of you, CCNGTA may be the last time we cross paths and to those I bid goodbye. The nature of the internet keeps people moving from place to place, multi-tasking their attention, and all I can tell you is we’ll still be here. I can’t really know with much certainty what my next project will be outside of the website, all I can say is I’m restless enough that there’s bound to be another. And another. And another. Seems to be my nature.

Rallied at the administrative compound on the outskirts of Las Venturas, the staff listened as I handed out quick assignments. I welcomed the new guy to the team and immediately tasked him with running an event. Our most junior guy prior to the latest addition was assigned to assist him in the event and handle crowd control. It would be a good opportunity to test out our new staff member and get our former junior guy accustomed to moving up in administration by handing him a trainee. Technically you could say I’m throwing both of them under a bus because we’re putting them in a highly public situation up against the server’s toughest critics, the players. The senior admins know the drill with this by now and are a nice safety net in case something goes terribly awry. They’re not there to stop the bus from running over our new admins though, merely to throw in the towel on their behalf and to provide a debriefing on how they can hone their skills as leaders in this type of environment. Good or a bad, a lesson is learned and hopefully the staffer is better for it.

I threw a few guys on roving patrols, it sucks not watching the event but someone has to keep an eye on things while that’s going on. Roving patrols basically meant the staff hopped player to player spectating, checking stats, and acting on system messages that indicated malicious behavior. We didn’t ban on system messages or the word of players so it was important we had a reliable set of eyes keeping our server safe. The last guy got put on reports. When a player had a problem he’d be dispatched to assist while the roving patrols would observe related activity. Normally things are much more play it by ear but the population was high and things needed to be delegated to prevent us from pulling our hair out. The chat box flew by as system messages, reports from the event, and staff chatter sped by.

“I’m on ID 87 right now, someone jump on 55, they’re acting shady.”
“I got 55, what’s he doing?”
“They’re health bars are stacked and I don’t see any drugs. 1 hour play time.”
“55 just popped a deagle.”
“Alright, don’t hit ‘em yet. Wait on 87 so we can nab them both.”
“87 just cycled past a sniper rifle.”
“We got this, drop them.”

Two quick ban messages fly by as the admins proceed on to check on a possible speed hacker and render assistance with reports. Business as usual. I jump from the compound to my perch overlooking the spawn area in Los Santos. I watch from the roof as the players below bustle about. The area has become a makeshift haven for black market goods, an area players congregated because the clientele for drugs and weapons spawned nearby and the building itself auto-jailed anyone attempting to spawn kill. That didn’t prevent some hackers from terrorizing the locale. I observed many things happen below me. A car ran over a pedestrian, countless arms and drug deals, the sporadic shootout erupted over minor disagreements. Occasionally a patrol vehicle from the LSPD would pull up and haul an unlucky citizen off to jail. A chopper flew into the area and hesitated above the active corner, he pivoted in the air towards me as I flashed an RPG. He wisely decided to move on.

A car pulled up, you can tell right away by the vibrant colors and model the car was from an affiliated gang member. The gangs were advised to steer clear of the area, although I sometimes understood that they needed to pick up new friends or pass through. The man with a colored name stepped out of his car, which everyone on the corner was wise enough not to touch. From the roof I uttered, “If your affiliated, move along.” He stepped back in his car and left. Our admin on reports materialized next to me and asked why I always stand up here. I explained that this was what we called in the military a command presence, that simply by being nearby or observing a situation, you can act as a deterrent for problems.

A report came across the wire of two player’s power leveling up their mechanic skills, balking at the system to get ahead. The story of this city was already manifesting and growing by itself, fueled by the citizens I watched below me. I responded to the report over the admin channel, “I got this.” The world, the social hierarchies, the players, and everything else have grown into a life of its own. I pulled two Tech-9 machine guns out of my coat. Everything has grown and become entirely “big picture”. It was bigger then any one administrator, server owner, or coder. I whisked myself away to the location of the reported powerleveler and landed on the hood of a dull green aging sports car with a hollow thud as the cheap metal buckled under my weight. It wasn’t about just us; it was about everyone. Raising my guns I blasted a hail of bullets through the windshield, killing the driver nearly instantly. The passenger fumbled out the side door and got clipped with my bat on the downswing. I jumped off the hood before they could recover and proceeded to bludgeon them to death, the sound of metal crushing meat and bone filled the night air, as the blood sprayed all over my neatly pressed suit. It no longer needed much beyond a subtle nudge from us in the right direction. The cursed few protecting the world they can never be part of.

That’s just how we do things.

It is so stupid of modern civilization to have given up believing in the devil when he is the only explanation of it
-Ronald Knox