by Kitty Cox
"Damn it!" Riley yelled, slapping her hands on the cheap desk, coffee splashing over the edge of her cup.
Grabbing a napkin from the other side, she was wiping up the mess when a ding made her glance back to the screen. There, in the chat box, was a private message.
[VOID] Damn good fight. Been a long time since I've had to work for it. You coming to Gamers Live this weekend?
She stared at the message, truly shocked to see it. Void was the best in the scene. He'd turned down countless contracts to go pro, saying he preferred to remain anonymous and keep gaming as a hobby, yet he was a regular face at every convention. He also never gave compliments. Hell, he rarely spoke to anyone! She began typing before she even knew what to say.
[QQ] It's local, so thought about it. Thanks for the compliment.
He'd been waiting for her answer, because in less than a second, the notice dinged again.
[VOID] You should come. Would love to shake the hand of the man who not only can make me sweat, but also type complete words.
[QQ] That sounds like an offer I can't pass up. Didn't think you were in the Dallas area.
[VOID] There's a tournament. Enter it. They're offering a pretty sweet pro contract to the winner. Can't tell you how I know that, but I'll be rooting.
[QQ] ...and playing. You enter everyone of those.
[VOID] ;) Someone has to keep you kids on your toes. Bring your rig.
[QQ] You seem to have convinced me. Lets see if I can take you down next time.
[VOID] Challenge accepted.
Her hands were on the keys to reply, when movement caught her eye. The mare was on her side, her legs straining, nothing more than her haunches visible through the grate in the door. Riley pulled off the headphones and tossed them on the desk, grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch, and darted up the hall to pound on her roommate's door.
"Kitty! She's foaling!" she yelled through the wood before rushing to the barn.
Of course she was too late. Jena never wanted an audience to her labor, but the sight in the barn was exactly what Riley hoped to see. A beautiful black foal lay in the straw, its head bobbing awkwardly as it blinked at the light. She slowly opened the stall door and stepped inside, whispering gentle words to the mare as she checked the baby over. A colt, and a rather impressive one from the wet, crumpled mass of him. She eased his hind legs the rest of the way out and patted the mare's hip before moving to his head and checking for any birth defects.
"That's a big one," Kitty said, a blanket tossed around her shoulders, her fuzzy bunny slippers peeking out from the bottom.
"It's a boy." Riley looked up with a grin. "And he's well marked. If he's half as nice when he stands, we just got our next stallion."
"Thank god," Kitty breathed. "We can't keep buying breedings and pay for hay, not unless the market improves a bit."
"Still four years before he'll make us any money. I may have to sell the team."
Kitty shook her head. "Not yet. We can get by this year. Sell the geldings, but not the mares, Riley."
She nodded, all too aware how tight things were financially. "I just keep hoping for a corporate contract. Dad made a name for them, it'd be a shame to sell them for pennies."
"Yeah," Kitty agreed, "but selling's the best option we have."
Riley decided to change the subject. "Fought to a draw with Void."
"Damn! No way?"
She nodded, letting a bit of a proud smile show. "He asked if I'm going to the convention. Said he wants to shake my hand."
Kitty had been her best friend since grade school and worked at the farm since junior high. When Riley's parents died, she'd stepped right in, taking over the finances – all too aware that was Riley's Achilles' heel. She'd also been the one to introduce Riley to the world of first person shooters. While Kitty enjoyed the games, Riley had excelled, quickly making a name for herself, only to lose everything when rumors spread that she'd slept her way to the top of the competitive ladders.
It had been Kitty's idea to create the new persona, QQ, and leave the old to wither. It wasn't hard to convince her competition that she was nothing more than another guy with too much free time – she simply never used voice chat. So if anyone could understand how excited Riley was, it would be her best friend.
"When is it?" Kitty asked.
"This weekend. It's in Dallas but will be an all weekend deal. Can you watch the horses?"
Kitty gave her an appalled look. "Of course! You don't even have to ask."
Unwilling to be ignored, that's when the newest member of the herd decided it was finally time to stand, struggling to untangle his long legs and making a complete mess of it. The mare nickered and surged to her own feet, leaving little room in the stall. Riley backed out, moving beside Kitty as they watched the baby try for his first steps.
"Always my favorite part," Kitty said.
"I like it when they win," Riley countered, bumping her shoulder against her friend's.
Kitty just lifted her arm and wrapped the blanket around them both, the girls smiling at the future of the farm. They stood like that for almost an hour, until the colt had done everything they needed to see, then they slowly made their way back inside, the sky just beginning to grow lighter.
Her coffee had grown cold long ago, so she staggered into the kitchen and set another pot to brew. Passing by her computer, a message still flashed on the screen.
[VOID has requested to be your friend]
"See," she told Kitty, pointing at the square box.
"Damn. He doesn't usually make friends. What the hell did you do?"
"Fought to a draw, like I said."
"With Void?"
Riley just nodded and did her best not to look as smug as she felt.
"Ok," Kitty said, "Spill it!"
"He said I made him work for it."
"What did you do?"
"I think I got the drop on him. His reactions are faster than mine, but I never gave him the chance to take advantage of it. Cover, strafing, and a quick knife."
"You killed him with a quick knife? No one gets that close!"
Riley just shrugged. "I think he assumed I'd run. I was low on health and in a bad spot. I figured it was take him out or die. I preferred the first option."
"Nice! So you have two days. Clean the machine, back everything up, and we have got to find you something to wear!"
"It's a gamer convention, Kitty, not a beauty pageant."
Her friend took a step back and gestured at Riley's body. "Black and neon dreads, how many body piercings, and what, two tattoos now? You've already started the look, no reason you can't make it marketable. Think of this as nothing more than a horse show. Braids, mane rolls, and all the trimmings."
"Fine!" she agreed, giving in. "Just nothing crazy. I do not want to look like I'm trying to get a damned date. I want a contract, not a boyfriend."
"Deal. You handle the kill count, I'll arrange the wardrobe, and you won't even kill me when I'm done."
Riley just closed her eyes and nodded, all too aware of what she was getting herself into.
"And we're pulling out the petty cash to pay for the trip. Go easy on the tequila?" Kitty teased.
"Deal. If we can take at least a first at the next show, we'll make it all back."
"Then you'd better start working with the yearlings. If they can place, we can get a few sold. Just need two, Riley. Won't hurt the farm to have a couple less mouths to feed."
"I know," she said, hearing the coffee maker beep. "But it's morning and I have got to get some sleep."
Kitty just shook her head. "Coffee, then bed? Don't know how you can do it, but whatever works. Just be nice to Void?"
"I thought I was."
"I mean when you meet him. He's a good asset to have on your side."
"Until I show my face and they realize I've had tits the whole time."
"Ok," Kitty chuckled, "there is that. But don't throw a drink on him?"
"Swear," Riley sa
id. "This is just business. I won't do a thing that would be out of line."
Kitty nodded, then turned on her own computer, sinking before it while the fans began to whirl. "And I'll watch the kid while you get a few hours. Need to buy grain today and drop invoices off at the post office."
Riley groaned, dragging her tired body from the room, thinking of nothing more than getting her caffeine fix and some sleep.
Chapter 2
Gamer Girls: Challenge Accepted
Friday started wet and chilly, but Riley had things to finish before she left. While the new colt played, running circles around his dam, she shoveled piles of manure into the bucket of the tractor and spread shavings. Andrews Shires wasn't exactly a large farm, but the barn had fifteen stalls, all sized for draft horses, and six more geldings lived in the pasture. Every morning started with feeding and turning them out, every day was spent cleaning up after them, and the evenings were simply a repeat of the same.
Twenty-one horses was a lot for one person to handle. Kitty helped, but with school, she simply didn't have the time to be as involved as she wished, and it would mean more for her to get her degree. Riley sighed, thinking of all the things she should be doing this weekend instead of going to the convention. The fences needed to be welded, the buckets were due to be scrubbed, and with the weather, it would be a perfect time to clean and oil the show harnesses.
But if she could sign a contract, they wouldn't have to worry as much. She sucked back the last of her coffee, making a face when it was cold, and moved to the next stall. By the time she was finished, the sun was on the far side of the barn and the day was getting late.
She dumped the last load, then went in, brewed a pot of coffee, and headed to the shower. After removing the farm residue, she patted her dreads dry and used the towel to wipe the fog from the mirror. Caught between two worlds, yet not quite a part of either, Riley was determined to make all of this work. She'd been lucky enough to have the body to ride the larger horses, but never the fashion sense. Even as a child, she'd loved to be different, coloring her hair with paint and drawing tattoos on her hands. When she'd come home with the real thing, neither of her parents had been surprised.
The tribal mark on her bicep wasn't quite what anyone would expect. It was their farm's brand. Not that they branded the horses, but it had become the logo on all the letterhead and contracts. The mark inside her wrist was a bit more personal. It was the day her parents had been killed in a car accident, written in alpha angle code. They'd lost their best stallion and two mares in the wreck, as well. Riley tried not to talk about it, but the loss weighed heavily. Those horses had been as much family as her parents, and Connor's pen still stood empty, waiting for the right stallion to fill his place.
A bang at the door made her nearly jump out of her skin. Obviously Kitty was home. "Get dressed!" she yelled through the wood.
"I'm almost done," Riley yelled back, blotting at her hair, again.
The towel didn't do much to keep her warm, but nothing was worse than trying to pull dry clothes onto a wet body, so Riley scurried down the hall and into her room. Closing the door, she saw an outfit laid out neatly on her bed. Kitty had meant it when she said she'd pick her clothes, but it was perfect.
Round toed boots were stacked beside a pair of tight jeans, a white tank with their logo on the front. A black long-sleeve shirt went with it, but the convention hall would heat up quickly, and it would soon be discarded. She pulled the clothes on and shoved the stack beside it into a bag, not even bothering to look. If she was to be shown off like a prized mare, then Kitty was the person to do it.
As soon as she opened her door, her friend's voice called out, "I got most of this packed but I'm not touching the case."
"No, I got it," Riley agreed, pulling at wires, folding them carefully before tucking them away. "Wanna toss my bags in the truck?"
"I need the truck. Take my car."
Riley just nodded. It only made sense. Hard to haul a horse to the vet in the car, and it cost a lot less to drive the hour and a half to Dallas. While she finished packing away the computer, Kitty carried her stuff out, returning just in time to grab the case from her hands.
"Mascara at least and eyeliner is better," she ordered before walking through the front door again.
"Fine!" Riley yelled, hurrying back to her room.
She went a couple of steps further, adding a touch of eye shadow and a bit of clear gloss to her lips. Tucking the cosmetics into her pocket, she grabbed a few hair bands, twisted the mass of dreads into a knot at the back of her neck, then checked the time. Ten minutes till she had to be on the road. Not bad.
"Ok," she yelled into the house, "I'm leaving."
"Oh!" Kitty called, "Money!" She passed her a handful of bills and two credit cards. "Text me the cost of the rooms. The cash is for spending, the credit is for rooms and gas." When Riley nodded, she went on, "And do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Have fun?"
Riley laughed and hugged her friend. "I'll do my best. Call if you need anything. Feed's on the white board, the bins are full, we should have plenty of hay, and the vet knows I'm out of town."
"Then stop worrying," Kitty said, pushing her toward the door. "Go. You deserve a weekend without horse crap on your boots. Show those boys that you can aim."
With a last wave of her hand, Riley obeyed.
The drive to Dallas was tedious and uneventful. She turned the music up and cracked the sunroof just enough to get a hint of fresh air, but not enough to let the damp March weather chill her to the bone. When she pulled off I-35 and onto 635, that's when the traffic started to get thick. This convention was a big deal. Not only FPS gamers, but also MMOs and other popular titles would be attending. All the big companies were flying in their staff and there would be a huge area dedicated to the latest technology. Sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, she had plenty of time to think about not only that, but also the reaction she was about to cause.
Women had finally managed to break into gaming in the last decade, but the world of first person shooters was the last bastion of male dominance. While massively multiplayer online games were made up of roughly half men and half women, only ten percent of the FPS players were female. Most of them were casual players – which was fine – but that skewed the leader boards even more. For as long as she could remember, Riley had only ever seen four other women try to break into the game, and none of them had succeeded. It was probably a pipe dream, but she wanted to be the first. She had for years.
She just had to make sure she could not only get noticed, but also place. If she could get into the top three, she was sure she'd at least get a sponsor. She really needed an offer from someone. Hell, the farm needed her to get an offer!
It was dark when she finally arrived. Following the signs, she pulled the car around back and found a place to park, popped the trunk, and began loading herself down with bags. First, she would check in, then set up her rig. The rooms went fast, even if she had reserved one.
The next couple of hours became little more than a myriad of lines. The line to check in, the line for the elevator, and even the line for the exit. Bodies pressed close together, and everyone was doing their best to impress. She saw mohawks standing an arms length tall and piercing plugs large enough to fit a baseball through but, for the most part, the crowd was little more than geekish guys in T-shirts and jeans.
It was on her last trip when someone realized she might actually be a gamer. A nylon bag filled with her peripherals hung across her shoulder and her case rested easily on her hip. Riley took baby steps forward, waiting for her chance to be issued a ticket and assigned a place at the table. She'd been creeping closer for ten minutes when the guy behind her spoke up.
"You know this is the line for the FPS tournament?"
"Yeah."
"That one..." He pointed across to their right. "Is for the MMO section."
"The big sign," Riley said, tilting her chin at it, "that says
'Professional League of Gamers Tournament' kinda gave it away."
"So you're gonna try to play with the big boys?" He didn't even try to conceal his amusement.
"Basically."
"Yeah. Good luck with that. They won't even realize you're a chick until you're dead."
Riley finally looked behind her. "What name do you go by?"
"LOLWaffles. I use that for most of them, at least. You?"
She just smiled. "Riley. Nice to meet you, Waffles."
"Don't even have a name?" He smirked as he shook his head in sympathy.
"Pretty sure I just told you." Thank God there were only two people left before she was done with this line.
"I meant a game name."
"You'll figure it out, but if I don't tell you, you won't send me requests to cyber or something stupid."
He laughed. "Fair point. Good luck then."
"You too." She held out her armband to the security at the door. He handed her a ticket and pointed her in the general area.
Finally inside, she followed the directions to a massive row of tables, walking along it until she found her assigned place. Power bars and plugs of just about every type were duct taped to the back. Little metal chairs were pushed in at the front. It sure didn't have the comforts of home, but there was something about the banners along the walls that made it seem worthwhile.
Dropping the bag into her seat, Riley began to put her rig back together. She went over everything carefully, from the connectors on the motherboard to the level of coolant in the radiator, before closing her case and plugging it all in.
"Nice keyboard," some guy said as he passed by.
She just grunted, not even bothering to look up. When it was all together, she flipped the switch in the back and pressed the power button, worried that nothing would happen for only a moment, until the LEDs began to glow and the fans started to hum.
"Rainbow?" a guy wondered, commenting on her choice of lighting for the case.
"Yeah."
