by E. M. Hardy
Rolling loot… You have received [Bone Shard 19x], [Profane Sigil 3x], and [Symbol of Mortem]
Partymate [JessicaTheSlot] has rolled [Need] for [Symbol of Mortem]. Would like you to roll [Need] or [Greed] for [Symbol of Mortem]?
Interesting… so this game is the basis for the sheets and numbers defining your existence.
Glenn blinked, swearing he could hear a muffled voice ring through his head.
Ynnie? Ynnistoria, was that you?
Ynnistoria: Query unclear, Glenn. Could you please rephrase the question?
Glenn frowned with his avatar, then shrugged as he rolled [Need] for the Symbol of Mortem. Being a cleric-class that could purify the corrupted relic meant he would win the roll, especially against a barbarian that wanted the relic more for its monetary value than any benefit for his class.
“Selfish prick,” mumbled JessicaTheSlot, shooting him an evil glare as the system granted the Symbol of Mortem to Glenn.
“The FUCK was that?” raged xXSlayerzXz the paladin, aggressively getting all up in Glenn’s face. “Why didn’t you use that fucking spell in the first place instead of letting us get chewed up!?”
Glenn held the hands of his avatar up, his brown tunic rasping as he took one step back. Bishop classes came with these gaudy robes with long tassels and a funny long hat that bobbed whenever he moved. He preferred the simpler aesthetic of the Acolyte outfit, even if it meant confused looks from other players who wondered why an Acolyte could chant out higher-level prayers like Resurrection or Repose.
“It’s a miracle, not a spell. I can only utter it once every 24 hours and I reserve it for party-wiping emergencies. Now that I’ve used it up, I really think it would be a bad idea to keep going deeper in this dungeon. Thanks for the party guys, but I think I’ll go now.” Glenn rummaged through his inventory, preparing a Scroll of Emergency Escape.
“The FUCK you think you’re doing, scrub! You bail now, and you’re gonna wish that—”
The raging paladin’s words were cut off by the effects of the scroll, which brought Glenn back to the main hub of the Alliance of Light. He peered at the top-left corner of his HUD, taking note of the -10% experience malus gained from leaving a party in the middle of a dungeon. It would last for the next hour, but he didn’t really care. Better to lose 10% experience gains than to lose his hard-earned equipment by pressing on with a bad party. He’d also be forced to level in easier, less-rewarding dungeons so he wouldn’t lose his gear, but again—better safe than sorry.
He stepped up to one of the in-game terminals, ignoring the dueling combatants, tea-bagging gnomes, AFK-dancing elves, and the angels comparing wingspans in the background. He flicked through the menu, looking for another party that needed a healer, when a blinking message icon lit up in the upper-right corner of his HUD.
Kristina: Yo, Glenn. You good for later tonight?
Glenn: Hey there, Kris. And no, tonight’s not good. Your life points are still too low.
Kristina: One or two pokes never killed anyone.
Glenn: In this case, they very well could.
Kristina: Aw c’mon, man. Have some pity on an overworked, undersexed e-athlete. We’re going up against the Seoul Cavalry next week, and I need my dose of demon dicking to keep my head in the game!
Glenn: No, you sound like a junkie that needs an intervention.
Kristina: But Gleeeennnnnnnn…
Glenn sighed, shaking his head and dismissing the looking-for-party menu. No way he was going to dungeon-dive while carrying on a conversation like this.
Glenn: No, Kris. You’re at, what, 140 life points? Give yourself at least two more days so your life points can go up past 200. But wait a second… didn’t you say that your reflexes and reaction times get shot after our sessions?
Kristina: Huh? When did I say that?
Glenn: The day after our first session. You know, when you chewed me out because your performance dipped the next day?
Kristina: I did? I don’t remember saying that.
Glenn: You just said you’re going to compete next week. And isn’t the Seoul Cavs like one of the top teams around the world? Can you really afford to take them lightly?
Kristina: Ehhhh. I think that the frustration from denying the little joys in life does more damage to my performance than a little post-coital fatigue.
Glenn: Kris… seriously…
Kristina: Yeeees, daddy.
Glenn: Oh, no. Please don’t start with that again.
Kristina: What? You think I didn’t notice your dong hardening when I call you daaaaddy~
Hazel: What’s up, sluts?
Glenn: Hey there, Haze.
Kristina: What’s up yourself, bitch.
Hazel: Just finished reading the chat-log. Poor slut got clam-jammed.
Kristina: Up yours.
Hazel: Up mine, indeed. How many life points am I at now, Glenn?
Glenn: One sec. Right… four days ago… that means you should be at 260 life points.
Hazel: Sweet! I can get some of that later tonight, yeah? Unlike a certain someone here desperate for some dicking.
Kristina: Sure, just rub it in my face, why don’t you?
Hazel: Oh, sweetie. You know you can always rub one out if you’re really that desperate.
Glenn: I don’t know about this. Shouldn’t you wait until your life points top out before we go for another session?
Hazel: I love how you call your booty-calls ‘sessions.’ Makes it sound classier, more refined, than what we get into.
Kristina: Right? It’s almost like a therapeutic thing now—like a massage. Except more fun cause you cum a couple dozen times. See, Glenn, I told you our little ‘sessions’ help boost my in-game performance!
Glenn: Guys…
Glenn groaned out loud with his avatar, drawing curious gazes from the other players passing by him. That’s when someone suddenly tried to punch him, but it merely passed immaterially through his face. He was, after all, in a safe zone of the main hub where players couldn’t harm each other without agreeing to a duel.
Glenn looked up, surprised to see xXSlayerzXx. The paladin was absolutely fuming mad, red as an apple and breathing hard as a pissed-off bull. Glenn could see all this on his face because the paladin’s impressive helmet seemed to be gone.
He wasn’t alone in his mismatched outfit, though.
A rather clunky warhammer replaced the oversized claymore that JessicaTheSlot carried around, while ZuckOnDese appeared to be missing a potion belt. Only WeedMaster420 appeared to come out of the encounter without losing any visible piece of equipment. The druid may have gotten lucky when he died, winning the lottery against dropping an item, or he decided to use his own Scroll of Emergency Escape before things got bad.
“You! YOU ************! **** YOU, YOU BAILING PIECE OF ****!!!”
Glenn could only guess at what the paladin was trying to say, considering that the language filter ran at full-strength in the hub areas. One never knows when the kids are around, after all.
Speaking of kids and filters, Glenn moved xXSlayerzXx, JessicaTheSlot, and ZuckOnDese into his block list. The paladin’s screams suddenly went silent, his wildly-gesturing avatar dissolving into a vague outline. The outline kept trying to punch his avatar to no avail, each swing passing through Glenn’s avatar as if it were made of smoke.
That’s when Glenn met WeedMaster420’s eyes. The druid shrugged in a helpless, what-can-you-do-about-your-stupid-best-friends gesture. Glenn nodded slightly as he included the druid in his block list before turning his attention back to his alt-world chat.
Samantha: Hey
Kristina: Hey
Hazel: Hey
Glenn: Hey, Sam.
Samantha: Are you free this eveni
ng, Glenn? I need to consult you about something.
Glenn: Sure thing. What did you want to talk about?
Hazel: …
Kristina: …
Samantha: I know what the two of you are thinking, and no, it’s not that.
Kristina: Oh, really? And just why do you need to spend some quality one-on-one time with Glenn?
Hazel: Careful there, bitch, you’re starting to sound like a jealous girlfriend.
Kristina: I am not!
Hazel: Am too.
Kristina: Am not!!
Hazel: Am too.
Kristina: AM NOT!!!
Hazel: Am too.
Glenn: Uh, Sam, do you need to talk about something sensitive or—
Samantha: It’s like high school all over again with those two. Fine. It’s nothing really hush-hush anyway. It’s about my familiar… or at least the imp that was masquerading as my familiar.
Glenn: You confirmed it was an imp?
Samantha: Yup. Little sucker practically screamed itself to death the moment I splashed some holy water on myself. One clause of our contract concerns doing no harm to one another, but it never said anything about shielding myself against infernal forces. The thing was more than happy to nullify the contract after I threatened to douse myself in holy water like cheap cologne every single day.
Kristina: Wait, how did you manage to get your little witchy fingers on some holy water?
Samantha: Walked into a Catholic church, scooped up some water from the basin near the entrance exit, walked out of said church.
Kristina: Wow. And you didn’t go up in flames or something?
Samantha: I’m not possessed, so there’s no reason for the forces of heaven to turn their divine powers against me. Feel a lot stronger, healthier after getting rid of that parasite. And I didn’t have to suffer any backlash as well since the imp ended the contract by its own volition.
Glenn: Good to hear, Sam.
Samantha: It just sucks that I can’t cast any magic anymore. I can’t even summon a piddly little light like I used to.
Kristina: How about calling another familiar? A real one this time, not an imp.
Samantha: That’s the thing. I won’t be able to call up another familiar for some time, at least until the next spring equinox. Until then, I want to study Glenn a little bit more closely—see if I can better spot traces of the infernal at a glance. Last thing I want to do is contract another imp because I couldn’t tell it apart from a familiar.
Glenn turned away from the floating chat box, looking at nothing in particular as he mulled the situation over.
Are you there, Ynnie?
Ynnistoria: Yes, Glenn? How may I help you?
Can you help Samantha out there? Point out the things that mark demons?
His digital assistant went silent for a few moments before returning a response.
Ynnistoria: Yes, I believe I can help your friend better understand the difference between an infernal entity and a guardian spirit. Or a familiar, as your witch friend calls them.
Sweet. You’re the best, Ynnie.
Ynnistoria: Why, thank you for the compliment, Glenn. You too are the best. You aren’t actually the best at anything, but it’s the thought that counts.
Glenn chuckled to himself as he refocused his attention back to the chatlog. He found the action coming to him a lot more easily now, without the need to constantly refer to the lessons coming from the training manual. This was especially true around the three girls, playful and easygoing as they were.
He smiled to himself even as the ghostly outline of xXSlayerzXx the paladin continued futilely punching and kicking at his avatar.
***
“Hey there, Samantha. Good to see you.”
“Thanks. Where can I put down this stuff?”
“Anywhere, actually. I don’t own a lot of furniture myself so there should be more than enough room for whatever you have planned.”
“Okidokie. Give me a few minutes to unpack and then we can get started.”
Samantha unshouldered her backpack, placing it on the table that Glenn bought a few days ago. He could manage with a small corner table back when he had little to no interaction with other people, but quickly realized that large surface areas were vital for treating frequent guests.
That, and Hazel enjoyed using the larger piece of furniture as a prop for various positions during their sessions.
Soon enough, the bespectacled woman finished laying out a bunch of wands, crystals, powdered somethings, and a small plastic bottle partially filled water.
Water that made every hair on Glenn’s body raise on end.
“Um, Samantha?”
“Hmm?” The woman in question didn’t even look away from the items on the table, busy as she was with organizing the mess.
“What’s the stuff in that plastic bottle?”
“It’s the holy water I swiped from… oh.” Samantha frowned, puckering her lower lips as she considered her actions. “I can see why you’re nervous.”
Ynnistoria: Water blessed by a divine entity. I am not entirely sure how your body will react to it, Glenn. Considering your infernal nature, however, I would advise against exposure.
Glenn gulped at his digital assistant’s assessment before giving Samantha a quick nod.
“Still, I can dab some on you if you want,” quipped the diminutive woman, pushing the frames of her spectacles up the bridge of her nose as she continued pulling random stuff out of her bag. “We can check out how you’ll react to a spot of holy water.”
“That might not be such a good idea.”
“You sure? I mean, you never know until you try. Maybe it’ll itch just a little if you get exposed in your human form.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound so ba—”
Ynnistoria: Or maybe, Glenn, your body will spontaneously combust considering how tightly bound your demonic nature is to your very soul.
“On second thought, I’d rather not risk it. Your imp did freak out at the thought of getting some on itself.”
Samantha sniffed, puckered her lips up in thought, frowned some, frowned some more, then perked up as a thought struck her. “Hair!”
“Hair?”
“Yes, hair!”
“Okay. What about hair?”
“YOUR hair, stupid!”
It took Glenn three seconds of staring blankly at Samantha’s outburst before he finally got what she was trying to say.
Nodding his understanding, he plucked a hair out of his head and handed Samantha the black strand. The witch-in-training took the hair, looked around her, and grabbed a plastic cup off of the kitchen counter.
“Do you mind?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll just wash that out later.”
Samantha was already way ahead of him though, dropping the hair into the tall cup before pouring in a few drops of holy water. Glenn moved in closer as she set the cup on the table, inspecting its contents.
“Nothing’s happening. Does that mean the water’s safe?”
“Yeah, that… wait. No, the drops missed the hair. Let me just swish the stuff around and—”
Samantha squeaked as the cup in her hand sizzled, a puff of smoke pouring out of its mouth. The duo could only stare slack-jawed at the blackened insides of the cup.
“Could I ask for a favor, Sam?”
She startled before tearing her eyes away from the cup and back to Glenn. “Um… yes?”
“Could you please put the holy water far, far away from me? Pretty please, with a cherry on top? And could you take that cup with you when you leave?”
Samantha’s face fell, her shoulders slumped. “I… understand. I’ll go now. I’m sorry, Glenn.”
Glenn’s brows shot up in surprise before realizing
how his words sounded. “No! No, I didn’t mean that! I’m not asking you to go away right now, just to take the cup with you when you’re done doing your tests. I just don’t want to… I don’t know, spontaneously combust if I accidentally drink or eat from that cup.”
