A Carrot on a Stick
May’s main game on stream was Star Wars Outlaws. I’ve spent the better part of a month traveling the galaxy with Nix, an adorable companion who I fell in love with. Cute animals that follow you around works on me every single time. I’m a simple gamer, who loves animals. Nix isn’t why we’re here, though. As much as I love them, they aren’t the carrot on the stick that has kept me locked inside a galaxy far, far away for a full month.
Star Wars Outlaws puts question marks on the map. Little icons that appear at the edge of your vision while you’re mid-mission, headed somewhere with purpose and direction. The moment I see one, whatever I was doing stops existing. The question mark is the carrot on a stick. And, because of that, I am the most enthusiastic, least self-aware donkey in the galaxy.
What if something incredible is waiting at the end of the path that is obviously a dead-end?
The answer, most of the time, is credits. Maybe a new skin for Kay Vess or a texture for her weapons. Nothing I need. I’ve locked in my preferred outfit on Kay. The weapon skin is the awesome orange purple I gained early on. None of it matters to me in any practical sense, and I chase every single one anyway. The chest could have something. The unknown path could open up.
What should have been a week or two stretched into a full month of course-correcting and failing to course-correct. I’ll start out a stream with good intentions, and then something flickers on the horizon and I’m already turning the ship or, most times, my speeder.
This is not new behavior for me, just one I became hyperaware of over the last several games I’ve played on stream. From Trails in the Sky 1st Chapter, to MOUSE: P.I. For Hire, I always allowed myself to get distracted; especially surprising achievement for a linear game like MOUSE. And, every open-world game I’ve ever touched turns into a single moment of distraction that takes me far from my original goal. Skyrim is the obvious, embarrassing example. Years of playtime spread across multiple saves, and I’ve never finished the main quest. There’s always a cave, a ruin, some faint glow in the distance that demands I investigate.
No Man’s Sky and Sons of the Forest both have a main story, or at least something you can choose to follow if lore is what you’re after. I couldn’t tell you what either of them actually is, beyond vague pieces I’ve picked up from all the times I’ve started over. What I can tell you is that I’ve built a lot of half-finished bases. The plan is always clear when I plan to play: expand the base, gather resources, make progress in technology, or just securing the needs to survive in the game world. Then I notice something off in the distance, and whatever I set out to do becomes forgotten because what’s down there? Every time, without fail.
Lately, I’ve started noticing the same pattern bleeding into the stream itself. I’ll set a schedule, and then something new releases or goes on sale, or gets recommended at exactly the wrong moment. Like in games, a carrot on a stick appears in front of me, and I have to chase it. Maybe that’s fine. Being a variety streamer means that wandering is part of the deal, and I’ve never pretended otherwise. But it gets a little eye-opening when a regular pops in and their first message is making fun of me for starting another new game.
Hell, even writing this I lost the thread, chasing a thought down a path that I’m not sure what the point of is. That’s just me, though easily distracted. I’ll find the thread, and maybe explain it better in the future.
For my parting words, embrace the distractions in your streaming journey. You’ll enjoy it more… Maybe. I find joy in it, at least.
Join me on my streaming journey with more Musings of a Stream. Or come learn about my life with Echoes of a Journey. And, if you’re really awesome, join me live on Twitch, Monday through Thursday starting at 8:00am and 6:00pm US central.