This is part of an ongoing series chronicling the construction of Oceana, an epic Survival-built megastructure on the Vergecraft server. Be sure to check them all out!
The problem with building a megastructure so far from civilization — especially one whose first stages involve creating a framework of hundreds of similarly-designed tunnels, diagonals, and nodes — is that the project can be repetitive and alien. Many of Oceana’s levels aren’t really all that different from each other and until now, there was no real way to make your mark aside from an addition to the expanding (and still quite temporary) resource hut that serves as the external production facility. For the second week of Oceana’s development, it was time to turn an eye to making the massive pyramid something bigger than a work site: home.
One issue that’s lingered since Oceana’s humble definity is a lack of living space. Since many have spent their time working on their own estates closer to the spawn point, they trust to keep their items and other trusted trinkets in a space of their own design. Oceana was designed to feature twenty-four individual spaces, named in descending order in NATO phonetics, that would be able to house everyone’s creations not just once, but several times over. The beauty of Minecraft is that when you’re bored with one space, you simply create another and Oceana be able to facilitate that.
The first target was Lima, based near the center of the first level on the opposing end of the pyramid from the frequented resource hut. Why there? To pull people through the pyramid and highlight plenty of spaces that haven’t been completed yet. When I arranged for a Hit Crew to assemble with stone and dirt, Lima was merely an unguarded field of ocean topped by a single trail of dirt to guide the construction of a diagonal. Brimick, BroDaddy, and Jared quickly tackled the flooring; first with a layer of smoothstone, then topped with dirt. Since the ocean level was even higher than that, a second layer of dirt had to be placed to sponge out the remainder of the water. The goal of having a layer of dirt above the smoothstone flooring was to allow the occupants to customize the ground in the tone and color of their choosing. Four entrances were constructed half-way along the adjacent tunnels for easy access. While the floor was being built, Wired, Alec, and I worked on the diagonals, laying stone and then glassing them, all four connecting into the node above.
The diagonals in place, HappyPizzza worked on glassing the diagonals, not purely for aesthetics (as apparent from the Vegas-like webbing above), but to serve as a functional cap from sprawling designs. Anyone who sets up camp here has to work within the confines of the space. There are no annoying one-dimensional towers in here.
Avoiding any opportunity to intervene in the plot’s layout in an effort to keep each living space unique, the first occupants laid out their own claims and began building their homes. While Lima is still the only such space and still not quite large enough to satisfy every visitor, this isn’t a land grab: there’s still twenty-three more of these to build.
Moza’s Spleef Stadium
The next module installed was Moza805’s new spleef stadium, a cornerstone of Oceana’s goal to become a serve-all arcology. It was placed alongside living space Lima and designed by Moza with some fancy circuitry by Tahl. Master Plan structures don’t need to adhere to the glass caps in the same way that the public spaces do, leaving each designer free to do as they feel within the vertical space. My contribution? The daredevil-style stadium seats that comprise the third tier, built with an emphasis on field visibility over, well, some slight safety guards that would otherwise obstruct the view.
I had the opportunity to initiate the first match in the stadium between Moza and Tahl (Moza won) and as more structures are built within Oceana, I have no doubt that it will be the assumed home of future tournaments. It’s a fantastic addition to the lineup.