Born and raised on the thrill of the chase, Samuel Smith is an addict whose only fix is adrenaline. He thrives off the sensation of exhilaration, and is constantly putting himself in harm's way in his endless pursuit of danger. Today is no different. In the waving dunes of the Grand Senora Desert, Smith’s towering Vapid Sandking sails across the ocean of sand with ease. With each slam of the truck’s suspension, the adrenaline he so desperately needs courses through his veins. The only problem is, he’s breaking countless laws.
As his vehicle rises into the sky, a Blaine County sheriff attempts to pull Smith over. Before the officer can even think about asking for license and registration, the lifted pickup races away from the police cruiser and a chase ensues. If Smith’s offroading was a small hit of adrenaline, this pursuit was a shot straight to the heart. He gradually makes his way around the Alamo Sea, crushing everything in his path and giving his pursuers as much trouble as possible.
Smith then begins his ascension to the highest peak in the Paleto Forest, Mount Chiliad. As he climbs to the top of the mountain, his vehicle is battered and bruised. The crying of police sirens echo throughout the valley. Smith exits the truck with sheriffs looming closely and begins running toward the edge of the peak. With a parachute strapped to his back, he leaps.
Since the series began in 1997, “Grand Theft Auto” has allowed players around the world to live out lucrative criminal fantasies. The sheer sense of freedom that lies in the hands of the player has allowed the series to explode in popularity over its twenty-year life span, with the latest entry in the series, 2013’s “Grand Theft Auto V,” grossing $1 billion in just three days after release. The user’s ability to go anywhere and do anything is only limited by their imagination. Players can start a session with a brisk bike ride through the lush trees of the Paleto Forest only to find themselves rampaging down the streets of Los Santos in a tank ten minutes later. The possibilities for banality and chaos are endless.
Inside of the game lies a subsection of the player base that is devoted to realism rather than the mayhem the series is known for. These users are apart of something that is known roleplaying, in which jobs or roles that usually reserved for non playable characters are filled by actually people. These players act completely separate from their real world identities and create names, aliases, personalities and back stories for their virtual being. Thousands of servers that individually house over 30 players can be found across the web through sites like NoPixel and FiveM, which is where Smith is found.
As he leaps off the mountain, officers played by other users grow tired of the adrenaline junkie’s antics, and open fire as soon as he deploys his parachute. Smith desperately attempts to avoid the hellfire, but eventually, his chute succumbs to the pursuer’s damage, thus beginning the freefall to his demise. His body lands with purpose in the waters of the Alamo Sea. Samuel Smith respawns, and 16 year old Tim Smyth begins his character’s pursuit of adrenaline over again.
Though its popularity is apparent, “Grand Theft Auto” has been scrutinized for its depiction of widespread violence, offensive themes and satirical depiction of the United States. As a result, the property has been involved in countless lawsuits over the years. Various U.S. senators like Hillary Clinton notoriously campaigned against Rockstar Games and its intellectual properties throughout the 2000s for its “promotion” of violence and various other “harmful” themes. Despite the controversies, the criticisms haven’t disrupted the series’ success. Not only is “Grand Theft Auto” one of the most successful video game franchises of all time, it’s the most profitable entertainment property ever. A 2018 Market Watch study reported that as of April of last year, “Grand Theft Auto V” alone has sold 90 million copies, grossing in excess of $6 billion against an estimated budget of $256 million.
In the roleplaying community, which is entirely separate from the game and its publisher, every occupation in the world is played by another user acting in character. EMT’s respond to accidents, taxi drivers transport other players to their destinations and police officers enforce the city's laws. Everyone works to purchase items like cars or firearms, both of which require licenses to possess. The title of the game implies and encourages criminal behavior, however the realism of most servers has players obtaining possessions legitimately. Even so, there's still a fair share of the community that obtain possessions by less than ethical means, but face the potential consequence of spending real-time in virtual jail. It’s a living, breathing community that mirrors reality.
Even after six years since release, “Grand Theft Auto V” still finds sustained success. The title constantly resides in NPD’s list of best-selling games on a month to month basis thanks to its robust and intuitive multiplayer component “Grand Theft Auto Online,” which has offered countless expansion packs free of charge. These content drops are packed with cars, planes and properties available for purchase through in-game currency earned through either gameplay or purchasable microtransactions known as Shark Cards, which grant players funds based on real life money.
To some, the in-game economy is fair, while to others it's an endless grind more akin to a full-time job than a video game. For Payton Diaz, an online player since 2016, the monetization encourages people to pour hundreds of dollars into Shark Cards or be at a massive disadvantage against other players. “I started playing two years after release, and by the time I got into online, everyone already had jets, tanks and the fastest cars in the game,” says Diaz. “I’d get blown up when spawning in and killed while trying to do missions to earn money. It felt like the game was punishing me for both joining the game later than everyone else and for not buying Shark Cards.”
Diaz’s assertion is consistent with the experience of other players. There’s a clear distortion between the prices of in-game goods and the payouts of activities in “Grand Theft Auto Online.” The average mission, which tasks the player with eliminating targets and attacking specific objectives, takes roughly six minutes to complete and often rewards the player with an average of $12,000 in virtual currency. Compare that payout with one of the more expensive items in the game like the Luxor Deluxe, a solid gold $10 million private jet, and you’re going to be playing for a while. Or alternatively, you can shell out $120 in real money to obtain the plane immediately. The choice is yours.
The described scenario is what draws players like Smyth to roleplaying servers like FiveM. You’re not shoehorned into buying Shark Cards to level the playing field. You don’t have to spend hours tediously grinding toward something only to have your progress disrupted by another player. You just get to exist.
Off the streets of Los Santos, Smyth is a high school student living in British Columbia, Canada. His daily routine consists of waking up and heading to school before arriving home and watching YouTube, which is where he discovered the roleplaying community of “Grand Theft Auto.” Smyth’s time in the community has been very brief, only enlisting a few months ago. His character Samuel is more outlandish than many of the personas created by other players. Most are crafted in the constraints of reality, but Smyth favors out of the ordinary identities more so than traditional characters. His entire goal is to make people laugh by doing the most “dangerous and wacky stuff” he can possibly imagine, which has proved unpopular in the past. Whenever situations like this arise, he violates the rules of the server and “drops a Boeing 747 on their face,” which usually results in a ban from whichever FiveM server he is playing in.
The interactions that Smyth describes is the most appealing aspect of the servers. At first glance, it's hard to distinguish the difference between the official multiplayer component of the game and the roleplaying experience. Both task the player with earning money to buy in game goods, however the outlandish interactions that occur inside of the virtual reality is what many consider to be the most attractive component of roleplaying. Routine traffic stops can result in hilarious bickering between a police officer and a driver while a gang war simultaneously kicks off in the background. It's controlled chaos in the best possible way.
The roleplaying community found in these servers isn’t strictly limited to “Grand Theft Auto V.” In fact, the digital larping populous is very much inspired by the entire premise of “Dungeons and Dragons,” a choose your own adventure game that allows the player to craft an entire persona out of a fictionalized character. Unlike the linear criminal stories of the game and its online counterpart, the player gets to choose what kind of citizen they’ll be when the first step foot in Los Santos. Do they choose to abide by the law; earning their success through legitimacy? Or do they give into temptation; enveloping themselves within the criminal underworld of the city?
For Mac Cross, the enticement of a life of crime didn’t appeal to him upon his arrival in town. He’s quaint, shy and generally arrogant as he speeds around in his equally unassuming Toyota Camry when he spots a group of people sporting bandanas and gilded chains standing outside a gun store on the corner of Elgin and Adams. His car, which is carrying cash from a marijuana sale, comes to stretching halt. Cross knows exactly who he’s dealing with; one of the city’s most notorious crews, the Golden Chain Gang (GCG).
Immediately, he attempts to drive away, fearing the consequences of selling on their turf. As he’s distracted from his getaway, Cross slams into the side of a white supercar. A suave elderly man with slicked back hair along with a holstered pistol emerges from the dented hypercar. As Cross begins his attempt at monetary reconciliation, the well-off gentleman asks, “want to go for a ride?” With no other choice, Cross accepts what he’s sure is a death sentence. What he doesn’t know is he’s about to be undergo initiation as a member of the GCG.
The character of Mac Cross is played by Augustine Cho, a 20 year old EMT who resides in California. He’s been apart of the roleplaying community for over a decade, beginning with sandbox modes on “Garry’s Mod.” The servers he has played on led him to pursue his career as medical professional, and have been focal in making him who he is. “As a 13 year old kid, I got to be whoever I wanted to,” remarks Cho. “It’s kind of like cops and robbers, but not having to go outside because it’s raining on a Tuesday. It’s probably one of the best things I got to do as a kid. It really influenced me.”
Unbeknownst to Cross, his initiation began the moment he sat in the driver seat of the white supercar. The duo aimlessly cruise for miles. Just as Cross turns onto Vespucci Boulevard, the gentleman tells him to stop the car. “I need you to drive me back to that gun store right now,” the well-dressed gentleman says with vigor. “I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing, you need to get me there now.” Cross takes off, screaming past cars, pedestrians and storefronts. As they arrive at the gun store, the GCG and a group of mobsters are staring each other down with guns drawn. “You can either fight or run,” says the former passenger.
With some hesitation, Cross decides to get his hands dirty. “It’s time to introduce myself to this city,” says Cross confidently. He exits the car with only a knife, as it’s cheap and doesn’t require a license to own. As he reaches for his weapon, chaos erupts as the opposing factions open fire on each other. Cross quietly approaches the opposition, taking down three mobsters before getting shot. He’s taken into custody by the police and begins his jail sentence, serving 35 hours in real time inside of a jail cell. For Cho, the experience not only made his character a member of the GCG, it made him a better criminal. “You’ve got to be a smart criminal, like real life,” he says. “You can’t just go around shooting people. Cops can pull you over and give you a gunshot residue test. You have to think.”
The roleplaying community’s roots date back many years, from Cho’s experiences in 2004’s “Garry’s Mod,” to the massive military shooter series “Arma.” The freedom of the former mixed with the scale of the latter served as the foundation for the creation of “Grand Theft Auto V”’s roleplayers. The systems of the original game provided a basis for sites like FiveM to tailor unique multiplayer experiences that aren’t supported by developer Rockstar Games or publisher Take Two Interactive. Recently, the makers of the official version of the game have been tolerant of player-made augmentations to the title, however, this was not always the case.
In 2017, Rockstar Games and Take Two Interactive issued a cease and desist letter to a group of Russian programmers that developed a modding tool known as Open IV, which is used to power and create servers like FiveM. The studio cited that the program allowed third parties to "defeat security features” of the game, allowing players to affect the experience of “Grand Theft Auto Online.” This isn’t the only case of Rockstar Games and its publisher taking action against unofficial variations of the title. In November 2015, Take Two Interactive sent private investigators to one hacker’s home, and seized his computers on the basis that he was facilitating piracy. In essence, the studio targets anyone and anything it sees as a potential threat to Shark Card sales. The legal actions have sent communities like FiveM into a frenzy, wondering whether or not their servers would be shut down at a moments notice, which has briefly happened in the past.
Thankfully, the community is currently thriving with an influx of new players thanks to its explosion in popularity on Twitch. Roleplaying is receiving a degree of exposure it’s never seen before, with millions becoming aware of the decade-old community, though some veteran players think of it negatively, as it leads to a less dedicated playerbase. For Cho, he believes the attention the community is receiving is beneficial and will lead to the gaming industry realizing the roleplaying servers are a genre of their own. “The main goal is we want roleplaying to get so big to the point we get our own developed games,” says Cho. “We want our own specific genre. And whoever does that correctly is going to make a ton of money.”