The imagined user journey

The booth at the festival is approximately 3x3 meters. Its walls are painted light blue. What resembles pink fog is painted onto the lower part. The ceiling consists of a blue fabric with a pattern resembling waves. Light filters down into the half-lit booth. A sand-coloured carpet covers the floor. An assistant brings me a VR headset that is covered by blue, jelly-like rubber – giving associations to a diving mask. I am offered a chair, two controllers, and told that the experience can be played seated or standing, with no need for walking. A sound design giving associations to swimming underwater plays quietly, including dulled noises of breathing and heartbeats. I get the impression that this experience will be friendly and is not out to scare me. 

When I put on the headset, I see a hall with a dark blue dome above and a shimmering, wet floor that resembles a surface of slowly rippling water. The title “Otherself” is written in large letters in the air in front of me. A short text explains how the controllers in my hands can be used to lift and grip things, and that the experience can be explored by making swimming motions with my arms. I am also told that I can pause the next part of experience and come back to this dome room at any time if I wish to do so.

I press the buttons on the controllers to start the main part of the experience. The hall dissolves and is replaced by the dark blue-green colour of salty sea water. A loud splashing sound and a dramatic, turbulent sound design changes the mood. The dark blue around me gradually lightens while the sound design gives me the feeling that I am sinking deeper into water. The sinking sensation ends and I find myself hovering about half a meter above what seems to be a sand surface underwater. But I cannot see clearly. Everything is blurry and blue-green, as when swimming in salt water with eyes open.

In this blurriness, I can see a pinkish, glowing cloud of indistinct matter coming towards me. This pinkness engulfs my visual field. I hear a voice – “Oh, I’m so glad I found you in time” – spoken in a friendly tone. My field of vision slowly clears up and I am able to focus clearly. The sound design has calmed down to conveying a peaceful underwater atmosphere. I seem to be looking through something that resembles a diving mask. It is unlike any I’ve seen before. It seems to consist of living and breathing jelly-like matter and pulses with variously coloured spots. When the voice speaks again, the mask reacts in sync to it. The voice is also close – as if it is speaking directly into my ear.

I get the sense that the voice somehow belongs to the mask and that the speaking creature has saved me in a way. At the same time, the sound design gives me the sense that I am safe and in a friendly place. When I look around, I can see a beautiful underwater world. The colours of the plants are purple and pink, and they do not resemble any environment I’ve seen in the real world. I look down to see whether I have a body. I can see that I have hands, but they also seem to be jelly-like, half transparent and resembling rubber gloves with thick fingers. At about the underarm level, they dissolve into nothingness. No other traces of a body are to be seen.

I look around and cannot see where the voice might have come from. However, I cannot rule out that the creature might be behind me – when I turn, I can see slight traces of pink cloud-matter dissolving at the edge of my peripheral vision, as if something is moving to stay behind me. It could also just be my movement in the water, though. It’s hard to say.

I test the controls and see that the glove-like hands are actually gripping. I test the swimming-motion and see that I glide forward though the water.

When I look up, I think I can see a surface about 20 metres above me. It’s very distant, but light shining down through the green-blue and a slight rippling above gives the impression of a water surface.

I try to swim upwards, but I notice that I have limited buoyancy and can only move vertically a couple of meters up or down.

I haven’t heard from the voice while taking in my surroundings, and I’m starting to wonder what the experience is about. What am I supposed to do?  I guess I’m waiting for some kind of instructions – maybe a new comment. While looking around, I see that there are quite a lot of sea shells lying on the sand around me. I swim over to one and see that there is a pearl inside, glowing. I am curious and try to pick it up. When I lift it, my hand squeezes closed around the pearl and it dissolves into a pearlescent cloud of light. The voice is back, saying “aaaah”, sounding delighted. At the same time, I can see the pearl-like shape over the ridge of my nose in the mask glowing and growing a bit larger.

I seem to have stumbled across something meaningful. The voice seems to enjoy the pearl-gathering and the circle in the mask might be a kind of measure of pearl-eating. It reminds me of resource foraging in other games and seems to be an activity that I’m meant to be doing – at least my action created a positive-seeming response. The pearl resource might be useful for something – as resources often are in games – and it might also be useful to make the voice happy. After all, I don’t know the creature the voice belongs to – it might be a social resource to build positivity. Also, I have seen nothing else that has given me any clues as to the intentions of the experience.

I see a small crab-like creature running over the seabed. It’s too quick for me to capture, but I understand that this underwater world is populated.

I swim over to the next pearl, repeating the picking activity. “Oooh, that is good”, the voice says, even more enthusiastically. The pearl-meter glows and grows again. I notice that the reaction was different and am curious to hear what the next pearl will produce. I seem to be able to swim a bit faster and higher, which makes me think that I might gain other functionality the more pearls I pick.

“Mmm, I love spirit,” the voice says after pearl number three, and continues with “I’m Oeba, by the way.”

The creature has a name. It introduces itself and seems to wish to build a relationship with me. I don’t have a voice and cannot answer, though. Since nothing else has happened in the experience, I guess that exploring the relationship with Oeba might be a main challenge. I am searching for the meaning of the experience. It has been presented to me as something that is created with an intention behind it. Also, most experiences or games that I’ve tested before have a message or a challenge. Maybe the challenge here is to discover the challenge?

I’ve now come upon something resembling a sea urchin – a prickly sphere. I try to pick this up as well – after all, picking up things is one of the few things that have created a reaction in the surroundings. The sea urchin explodes in my hand. The mask flashes in red dots and Oeba cries “ow” in pain. The spirit-meter in the mask deflates a bit.

“Don’t do that”, Oeba says in a more commanding voice.

I feel bad. My action hurt Oeba. At the same time, I don’t like the dominating tone in Oeba’s voice. Could Oeba be a threat to me? What is the power-balance between Oeba and me? However, I also understand that my action physically hurt Oeba and that the comment might be motivated by fear and pain.

I make sure to pick a new pearl, and Oeba sounds happy again. I’m relieved – our relationship doesn’t seem to have suffered any long-term damage from the incident. But I’ve also decided to monitor the power-dynamic between Oeba and myself. I do think I might be dependant on Oeba – didn’t the mask save me from drowning at the beginning? After all, Oeba expressed that I had been found ’in time’, indicating that I had been saved from something? Also, I have not found any way to remove the mask, which I gather is in a way a physical part of Oeba. Maybe Oeba is the mask itself?

Picking up pearls, I’ve arrived at a more open patch of sand. Looking to my left or right, I can now see the other sides of the craggy rocks that have formed “walls” directing my movement. I can also feel that I have more buoyancy now due to the gathered amount of spirit, and can swim upwards four or five meters.

This makes it possible for me to reach what looks like anemones sticking to the sides of the rocks. I swim up to look at them. They seem to have knobbly fingers holding them to the rock, and similar hair-like structures waving in the water. I wave my hand towards them and see that they move with the water pressure I created.

As there is little else to do – and it gave a reaction with the pearls – I try to pick one. Why not.

The rubbery body of the anemone is pulled from the rock and dissolves into light and spirit much like the pearls did, just much more intensely. Oeba gives a loud gasp of extreme pleasure, which almost sounds a bit too personal and private. I’m happy that Oeba likes it, but it also makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to be pleasuring Oeba – I’m not Oeba’s servant. Or am I? What is really this relationship? I do not like the lack of control I have.

However, I do like the big addition of spirit. I’ve noticed that spirit gives me more buoyancy and I wish to be able to swim upwards towards the water surface I think is above me. It is partly curiosity, but also a feeling that this might be a way to be able to break the connection with Oeba if I chose to. My suspicion is that I’m dependant on Oeba for oxygen and reaching the surface and oxygen could be a way of changing the power dynamic –potentially this is the meaning behind the experience? I am still trying to figure out what the intention behind everything is. Also, I’ve noticed that I’m not giving off the typical stream of air bubbles that real-life divers produce. However, as the experience isn’t really realistic, I’m unsure whether this is significant.

Although Oeba’s pleasure when I picked the anemone was a bit much, I still choose to pick another anemone in order to gain enough spirit to reach the surface. I move my hand towards the anemones. But now small eyes open on the stems and they bend as far away from my hand as they can, shivering and seemingly to be afraid of me.

This is really uncomfortable. I thought of the anemones as objects for foraging, like the pearls, and didn’t think that they had feelings or were sentient in any way.

(Two alternative reactions are suggested here)

A.     I decide to pick a couple more anemones anyway in order to get more spirit fast.

B.     I retreat and decide to go back to picking pearls, although this is a slower way of foraging.

These interactions with the anemones have made me even more sceptical about Oeba. Surely, Oeba must have known that the anemones were sentient. But Oeba still found intense pleasure in an anemone’s death. It makes me even more uncomfortable, realising that I have to depend on someone with those morals for my existence. I’m more motivated to break free of Oeba’s control. Still, I’m still depending on Oeba, so I guess I need to make sure that my actions don’t reveal my scepticism.

I’m now working systematically to gain enough spirit to get to the surface, focusing on picking up pearls. I get closer to the cliff edge and notice that there are large shadows swimming in the deeper waters. They look kind of ominous – like large fish or octopi, but I can’t see them clearly. It’s probably just due to the lack of light down there. Finally I have enough spirit to swim up to the surface or into the deep.

A.     I try swimming towards the deep, but Oeba interferes, saying “that’s not a good idea.” I push on all the same. Then a dark rumbling voice says “You don’t belong here”. I have no option other than swimming upwards.

B.     I swim upwards, wanting to reach the surface and air.

I approach the water surface, which appears white and shiny and ripples above me. But I can’t exit the water. My hands stop just above the water surface. I look up to see what is stopping me, and see what seems to be a thick layer of ice about five centimetres above the water.

As I look, my mirror image is gradually becoming visible as a reflection in the ice. I see the face of a large octopus-like creature, with my human-looking eyes framed by a ridge in my face that has the same shape as the mask-frame I have been looking through the whole time. It is my eyes but an octopus’ body.

“Ah, don’t we look good”, Oeba says.

I’m inside Oeba! I’m actually an integrated part of an octopus. I’m not a human, which I took for granted the whole time.

I move and see that the mirror image moves with me – when I move my arms, two of the many octopi arms of Oeba mirror my movements.

The discovery makes my thoughts race. Why did I even think I was a human? I’ve been swimming in an otherworldly environment with nothing indicating that I could take that identity for granted. This also means that I belong in the water – with Oeba. I do not need air to breathe. I feel that I have to rethink my whole relationship to the environment. I’m not a visitor, but actually meant to find my place in this alien ecosystem. How do I fit in?

A.     I find this discovery fun – imagine, I’m an octopus! I wonder what I can do now – if this knowledge has unlocked any functionality. This is a game after all, it is a chance to test out what octopus life is all about. I’m playing!

B.     I’m freaked out by this. I don’t want to be engulfed by a shifty octopus-creature that I don’t even know if I like or trust. I’m also disappointed that I couldn’t escape the water world as I had hoped and planned. I’m also still wondering what this experience is all about.

My intended strategy of trying to exit the water has failed – or rather, it gave me a different result than I thought it would. Now I need to plan what to do next.

The revelation in the ice gave me new information about my relationship to Oeba. It has also made me even more uneasy about this relationship. Oeba swallowed me at the beginning of the experience and didn’t inform me about that fact, seemingly thinking that I should be totally OK with merging with an alien creature. Oeba shows no respect for my personal integrity. At the same time, Oeba seems to think that it has done me an act of kindness – saving me. Can I trust Oeba and think of Oeba as my friend, or are Oeba’s values so different from my own that the creature can’t be be trusted? What Oeba thinks of as kindness is deeply problematic for me, not respecting my boundaries or need for freedom. Am I enslaved to Oeba? Am I Oeba’s pet? Is this a wonderful and original merging of two individuals? Should I distance myself from this alien creature or embrace my new and unique friendship?

My feelings are conflicted. I feel the need to define what I think about this relationship and how I am to relate to Oeba. Also, this situation is so alien, I can’t think of any relevant examples from my experiences or culture to guide me – being swallowed by an octopus is a totally new situation.

I swim down to the sandy surface where I can forage, looking for any hints of new functionality or nudging towards action from the experience itself. I cannot see any – I only get a better glance of the large creatures swimming in the deep as I descend.

A.     The creatures look ominous, but this is only a game after all. And now that I know I am an octopus, maybe the creatures are my family? It would be fun and different to head towards the deep and see what happens there. I haven’t visited that area yet.

i) As I descend deeper into the water, passing the level of the original sand surface, Oeba speaks again. “I don’t think we should go down there, it might be dangerous.” Oeba sounds worried. Because I was only curious, I decide to return to the sand surface.

ii) Because at this point I am really sceptical about Oeba’s judgements, I don’t really care whether Oeba is worried. I push on. As I enter the deep, a large, dark, glowing creature swims up to me. I look straight into what looks like a more mature Oeba-face with old eyes that are giving me a withering gaze, looking through what resembles a diving mask like my own, but without any human traits. “You don’t belong here,” the dark voice says before I’m engulfed in a cloud coloured with the same glimmering darkness as the creature and everything goes dark. The underwater experience ends.

B.     I’m really troubled by the feeling that I’m not myself. The headset/mask feels heavier on my head. The intimate sound design with the sound of my blood pulsing now feels overwhelming, as it might be the sound of Oeba’s body and not my own. Also, I decide that I don’t trust Oeba. I’m still upset by Oeba’s lack of compassion for the anemones and how Oeba didn’t warn me about killing a creature that clearly had feelings. Imagine what it would have been like for the neighbouring anemones to see one of their own being killed. Oeba clearly thought of the anemones as less worthy of sympathy. I decide that I want to work towards freeing myself from Oeba.

I remember the exploding sea urchins. I decide to try to kill myself/us by gathering as many of them as necessary in order to remove all the spirit I/we have. It will probably involve killing Oeba as well.

i) It serves Oeba right for swallowing me.

ii) It's a shame, but not to be avoided. Oeba also needs to take some responsibility for theimpossible position I’ve been placed in.

C.      As I keep picking up the exploding sea urchins, the mask pulses with red dots. Oeba utters low groans, but doesn’t speak. In the end, the mask and all the surroundings are filled with the same kind of pinkish cloud that had been there in the beginning, and then everything goes dark. The underwater experience ends.
I found the ice reveal a bit disturbing, but I also find the whole setting interesting. I tried visiting the deep to satisfy my curiosity, but the warning from Oeba made me change direction as I don’t want to hurt Oeba/myself. I swim around on the sand surface looking for new things to do. I see some new pearls or anemones and decide to forage them to build up some more spirit. Oeba says, “Mmm, that was nice after all this swimming. What do you think we should do next? Maybe catch some crabs?” I am happy to have gotten a clear suggestion for action at last, and to be going on a quest with my partner. I swim towards the place where I saw the crabs. The experience then dissolves into a light blueish cloud before everything goes dark. The underwater experience ends.

The darkness slowly changes into the domed hall where the experience began. This time, there is a column with a fish bowl in the centre of the hall. Inside it, I can see the world that I was just exploring. I can see shadows swimming in the dark. The scene perhaps looks like Oeba on the sand bank and the thick white layer of ice on top. The fish bowl is quite small, but I can study it and recognize details. I still have my glove-like hands and try to tap the glass – but there is no reaction. I’m still happy to see that the environment looks intact and that Oeba is alive inside.

I now have a shadowlike representation of a human body that is generalised enough not to include any individual features, like clothing or gender markers.

I hear a new voice and see a corresponding text emerging in front of me. It welcomes me and invites a process of reflection on the experience. First, it presents me with some questions and suggestions, asking me to respond if I wish.

The voice asks questions about the way I chose to interact with the world, asking whether I felt the presence of any expectations or nudging towards various actions. The voice then explains that the experience was designed to only convey reactions to my actions, and that humans sometimes instinctively interpret surroundings, making it challenging for us to identify the basis for our decisions.

I answer some of the questions about the way I shaped my user journey.

In the end, my interaction choices are combined with an analysis of the way I explored the underwater world into a kind of summary of my choices.

I’m surprised to hear that I wasn’t actually told what to do, and also surprised to recognize that my user journey was the result of my own choices. I genuinely thought that more information had been given to me. I can also recognize the way I wondered about whether Oeba was trustworthy. I’m a bit surprised by the way the experience includes what I think of as my personal reflections on how to act as a central part of its story. I’m used to these reflections being private, and that interactions with the outer world start with the actions I choose instead of the reflections that precede them. I’m fascinated to discover that the experience was attempting to show me my own thought processes as a central part of my user journey.

The initial sketch for the epilogue

The following script is a draft that is intended to demonstrate the kind of open reflections that are to be presented to the participant in the epilogue. Note that a final version of the script would have to be play-tested thoroughly. The length of the epilogue would also need to be adjusted in order to signal that it is intended to be an open space for reflection and not any kind of data-collecting questionnaire, which would have reduced the participant to an object to be studied.

Parts of the script branch according to different user journeys. Meta-comments are put in brackets.

Epilogue:

Thank you for exploring Otherself. This experience is an attempt to demonstrate how we make decisions and create strategies based on the way we analyse our surroundings.

There are no right or wrong answers here, but hopefully there is an opportunity to look at basic elements of human decision making. Let’s explore.

Part 1

Did you assume that you needed air and therefore decided to try to get to the surface?

A: Yes

B: No

C: Pass

[If the participant reached the surface and discovered its symbiosis with Otherself]

After the revelation that you were actually inside Oeba, did you feel a shift in your thinking – that you had to reconsider your place in the environment?

a) Yes

b) No

c) Pass

Did the revelation change the way you felt about Oeba?

a)      Yes, for the better

b)     Yes, for the worse

c)      No

d)     Pass

There are studies of human decision-making that say that we attempt to make sense of things by first trying to interpret them based on everything we already know. And if the results of this analysis doesn’t [don’t] make sense to us, we tend to rethink and assume that everything about the situation is unknown and that anything might therefore be possible.

Oeba presented itself to you as a rescuer. How did you instinctively feel about Oeba at this point?

A: I found the relationship fun and interesting

B: I was keeping an open mind, wondering in which direction the relationship would go.

C: I was sceptical about Oeba

C: Pass

When we meet new individuals, we tend to think about how to relate to them. Can we trust them, are they a friend or foe? Often, our culture or previous experiences will influence these decisions. Hopefully, Oeba was so alien that no subconscious instincts matched your instinctive opinion, making you reflect on your relationship without cultural bias.

As you got to know Oeba, did your impression of the relationship change?

A: I felt dependent on Oeba and as though I needed to consider Oeba’s feelings.

B: I felt that I had my own agency and that I didn’t have to consider Oeba’s feelings.

C: Pass

Good relationships are based on trust, and involve a sense of freedom. The alternative to trust is obligation or coercion, which creates a relationship defined by a power inequality. In Otherself, Oeba is presented as a rescuer, but you did not choose the relationship.

Did your dependency on Oeba make you uncomfortable?

A: Not really, I didn’t take it personally – this is just a game.

B: Yes, I felt as if Oeba had power over me and that I needed to beware.

C: Pass

The only way to break out of an unequal relationship is to accept some amount of risk – for instance, that a protector will turn into an enemy, or that one will be alone alone and unsupported.

[For the following question, the questions the participant gets depends on the their recorded gameplay.]

The way you acted in the experience indicates that you...

a.      ... seem to have chosen to die by collecting exploding sea urchins.
Why did you do this?

i) I wanted to free myself from the relationship, no matter the cost
ii) I wanted to remove the spirit/help I had given Oeba to distance myself from it.
iii) It was an involuntary accident.
iv) Pass

b.      ... seem to have chosen to die by disregarding Oeba’s warning about visiting the deep.
Why did you do this?

i) I wanted to free myself from the relationship, no matter the cost
ii) I didn’t trust Oeba’s warning and thought the other creatures could perhaps be of help.
iii) I was just curious to see what would happen
iv) Pass

c.      ... seem to have chosen to co-exist peacefully with Oeba by continuing to forage for pearls. Why did you do this?

i) I liked Oeba and wished to strengthen our relationship
ii) I distrust Oeba, but thought it in my interest to keep Oeba happy
iii) I distrust Oeba, but wished to protect it.
iv) I couldn’t think of anything else to do
v) Pass

d.      ... seem to have chosen to end the experience by ceasing to interact with the experience.
Why did you do this?

i) I ran out of options I could morally support – I could only either help or hurt Oeba, and I didn’t wish to do either.
ii) I found the experience uncomfortable
iii) I found the experience boring
iv) Pass

This experience was designed to avoid expressing any expectations about user behaviour so that your interactions would be based wholly on your own decision making – that is, that you would not be told anything or nudged by the context. Did this work?

A: No, I felt as if there was an expectation about what to do

B: Maybe, but I just started to explore and things developed from there

C: Yes, I searched for hints to identify what to do, but didn’t find any.

D: Pass

Part 2

We make an enormous amount of decisions every day. Many of them are instinctive, helping us navigate our everyday lives. Many are based on emotions – on how things make us feel. We might think that we are rational beings governed by logical thought, but even rationality is based on emotions – on what feels right according to our goals and wishes. Instinctive decisions are based on what feels right and what is correct according to our culture and the society or societies to which we belong and upon which depend. Actually, very few of our daily decisions are the results of active, conscious deliberation.

[The following is a summary that is generated based on the participant’s answers and the registered choices in their user journey.]

In this experience, you chose to first [collected by user data], then [collected by user data]. You seem to (have|not have) worked strategically to reach the surface and air. You chose to (not pick|pick) more anemones after seeing that they reacted emotionally and became frightened. You experienced the revelation of being inside Oeba in the ice mirror and then chose to [collected by user data]. According to your answers, you (did|did not) reflect on your relationship with Oeba and your feelings towards Oeba (did|did not)as the relationship grew.

Part 3

Does this experiment demonstrate something about the way you make sense of the world around you and how you relate to others? These processes are often hard to identify, since they are so closely linked to the values and experiences we carry with us. Pre-made decisions about how we should navigate life are all around us, like the air we breathe.

We carry with us unconscious biases about other people – defining them as friend or foe even without knowing much about them. Our emotions give us confirmation biases, with our rational thinking often just confirming what we already believe.  

These human decision-making processes are shaped to help us survive, but they also create victims out of innocent people.

Otherself is dedicated to all Children Born of War – children who have been born of local mothers and enemy soldiers during conflicts and wars. These children suffer because adults see them as enemies instead of innocent children and treat them accordingly. This ostracization is often passed on to entire communities and cultures, and can last for generations. That someone else is seen as carrying the enemy’s genes can become a hidden bias that we adopt as an inherited “truth”, as “just the way it is” without us even noticing that we are thinking that way. This experience aimed to present some of these processes.

To learn more about Children Born of War, please visit The Children Born of War Project.

Strengths and weaknesses

Otherself attempts to avoid telling any information or nudging towards any action. The information upon which the participant bases their decisions and strategies is to be the product of their own interpretation of the surroundings or analyses of received responses to their actions. Based on my knowledge of experimental VR experiences to date, I think that this concept is highly innovative and worth pursuing further. However, the concept will need thorough playtesting.

I aim to exclude any kind of nudging towards choices, but I am shaping surroundings and introducing interactions that can be explored. I choose to have the experience start in a valley shaped with cliffs in order to slightly steer the movement of the participant towards pearls and anemones. I limit the vertical movement, and thereby the possibility to reach the revealing ice reflection or the creatures in the deep. I am hoping that this framing will help focus the participant’s attention and motivate exploration by providing a gradual increase in available interactions and responses. However, Otherself is intended to come across as an open environment that does not indicate any intentions or expectations to the participant. It will have to be thoroughly play-tested and tuned to ensure this effect.

This intended lack of guidance or onboarding of the participant is also one of the major challenges of the experience. There is a danger that some participants will remain totally passive, waiting for instructions or events to guide their journey. Participants who are experienced gamers are used to onboarding processes that explain the gameplay, but also often unafraid to test and interact.

Participants who are not used to interactive experiences can be hesitant and worry that they might be doing something wrong. The experience must be tested and balanced so that the participants are likely to start interacting without nudging or guiding. As the concept won’t allow for any intervention in the scene with player information, the only other option would be to bring the participant back to the initial hall scene, where they could then be asked to be more explorative and assured that there are no wrong actions, that they can’t break anything. The Otherself environment could then be restarted. However, this should ideally be avoided as it would also be a form of guidance and might indicate expectations for the interaction.

The experience contains few potential interactions. In the beginning, there is basically only swimming and foraging. If the participant doesn’t think of foraging pearls or sea urchins, or doesn’t discover that foraging increases spirit-level and facilitates vertical movement towards the surface or abyss, then the experience will also fail. Again, I can choose to restart the experience as described above, but this might also give the participant the feeling of having done something wrong.

The experience can also fail if the participant misses out on the tone of voice in Oeba’s comments or misses the expression of fear in the anemones. These responses are among the few pieces of informative responses in the experience that show the participant the emotional consequences to their actions (pleasuring or angering Oeba, hurting sentient anemones, or annoying creatures in the deep).

I believe that most of these challenges can be resolved through testing and tuning of the experience, but also think that it is likely that there will be participants who don’t get the intended experience due to any of the reasons listed above. However, I think the experience would be successful for the large majority of participants if it manages to communicate as intended.

Polish and technical challenges

Aside from the concept itself, the largest challenge for the experience is technical. This VR experience aims to explore vague and subconscious decisions in a very simplified environment with few elements and choices. This has been deemed necessary in order to keep the focus of the participant. Any distraction will be damaging in such an environment, which means there is no room for technical glitches. Any surprising or unusual event will either distract from the experience and thus lessen its emotional intensity, or such an interruption might be considered to be an intended event and thus start a totally different reflection process than that of focusing on the relationship with Oeba.

An initial build of Otherself has been created in collaboration with Sarepta Studio AS. This preliminary work revealed that it was difficult to create the effect of the diving mask as intended, that is, the frame with the mask needs to be stable and always in the participant’s field of vision. The mask is animated in a frame that is attached to the participant’s field of vision, placed on the “player camera” in the build. Taking this step should make the mask stable and let the 3D environment be visible in the opening in the middle of the mask.

However, the layer with the mask proved to lag when the participant moves their head, resulting in the 3D environment being visible on the sides of the mask (i.e., in places where the environment should be always covered by the mask). Not only did this look bad, but it also gave the impression that the participant is disconnected from the mask, which destroys the intention of the having the mask firmly positioned on the participant’s face.

The first build thus cannot demonstrate the intention of the concept, and revealed that Otherself needs considerable resources for technical development and polish, all of which are beyond the scope of this artistic research project.