He shook his head vigorously and set the coffee cup back down. “No. You would stay here. I was thinking about buying a condo anyway. I’ve got the money saved up, and housing prices aren’t half bad right now.”
I read between the lines: Brian had not approved of our apartment as a livable place. My shoulders slumped at the thought of living here without Heath. We’d lived together since our sophomore year in high school.
At the age of fifteen, he’d come out to his parents, and his dad threw him out of the house. My mom extended welcoming arms, and he became a permanent guest at the family B&B. After graduation, we both moved to Orange County, and he’d been my roommate for the past three years.
I tried not to sound as hopeless and hollow as I felt. “I couldn’t afford to live here on my own, and I don’t know who I could ask to move in. You stay and I’ll find something. Maybe student housing close to the school.”
Heath’s lips pressed together so ferociously that they went white. “I really hate this.”
So did I… but there was no way I was going to make him choose between his boyfriend and me.
“I’m not going to be the reason that you are having problems with Brian, all right? I’m cool with it. All I ask is that you give me a little time to find something.” I tilted my head up at him, shifting my weight to lean against the counter. “Will he calm down if you tell him I’m looking and have a move-out date? Say one or two months from now?”
“No less than two months. And if you need more—”
I shook my head adamantly. “I won’t need more. I’ll be fine. Call him and let him know that we’re working on it.”
Heath nodded but didn’t look happy. And though I hated seeing my best friend in a rocky relationship, I couldn’t deny the certain amount of self-satisfaction I felt that, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, I had avoided the ins and outs of navigating romantic relationships. I’d learned the hard way at a very young age that dating was most certainly not for me!
Ugh. Time to change the subject.
“So about the beta for that new video game…” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
Heath grinned, visibly relieved. “Yeah? Looks badass, doesn’t it? The artwork. That game trailer… Uber dragons. Dynamic quests. I think I’ve died and gone to nerd heaven. Or I soon will.”
I concurred. “It looks like it could be addictive. Promise me that we’ll log on tonight? I think my computer has the bare minimum specs to run this if I turn off all the fancy effects.”
“Barely, sir,” he said, imitating Scotty’s accent from Star Trek. “The processors canna handle any more, Captain!”
“Well, it’s all I got. And since I’m your favorite kickass gamer girl—”
He grabbed the cup off the counter, sipping again. “You wouldn’t even be hooked on video games if it weren’t for me…”
“Pusher,” I said, poking a finger into his broad chest.
He smirked at me. “Junkie. I’m not the one who spent twenty-four hours straight on Dragon Age. That was all you, dollface.”
I sighed dreamily in fond memory of that beloved game. “Oh, Alistair…”
Heath put down his coffee cup and picked up his phone. With a deep breath, he started to, I assumed, text Brian. “Okay, it’s a date. You and me, tonight. Brian will be appeased, and he’s working tonight anyway.”
“Mmm. Good to know,” I said, turning to leave the kitchen. I managed to fight rolling my eyes over the hot mess that was Brian until my back was turned.
Barely, sir…
Chapter 2: When Eloisa Met FallenOne
The evening brought the long-awaited chance to beta test the new Dragon Epoch game. Finally, an immersive game to play after months of marking time, replaying the old stuff. Despite the artwork, which included scantily-clad models painted as lithe elvish women with large, gravity-defying breasts, the game looked promising. So, I cracked my knuckles—figuratively—and sat down in front of the keyboard, ready to pwn this game.
“Wow, look at these graphics,” Heath said from his desk as he studied the fantastical scenery on his brand new high-definition screen. I struggled not to be jealous of him since he’d acquired it, especially since I’d at least gotten his hand-me-down out of the deal—and without it, I wouldn’t be seeing any graphics at all.
I turned back to my screen, awed by the artistic, colorful depictions of the fantasy landscape. Rugged, distant mountains, yellow meadows, gently trickling streams… lush forests. Even with the display options turned down so I could run the bare minimum graphics on my computer, it was breathtaking. I’d read that, as time progressed, the game would depict the transformation of the seasons. I looked forward to seeing that.
“Let’s get this party started!” I said, once I was done with the character creation screen. I’d chosen an elven spiritual enchantress, with long flowing black hair and eyes a neon shade of violet. I named her Eloisa. Of course, the poor dear didn’t have a scrap of decent cloth to dress herself in. Her ass cheeks were hanging out in the wind, fully exposed to the elements—and the male gaze, of course. Gritting my teeth together, I determined to get my girl some junk armor as quickly as possible.
“This old fart elfy dude wants me to pick flowers for him,” Heath grumbled. “Stupid ass quest.”
After exploring for a few minutes, we found ourselves outside the city wall. And indeed, Heath had discovered a quest from an aging elf man dressed in a strange military uniform accentuated by a kilt.
“Aww… how sweet!” I said. “He lost his one true love, and he wants to remember her by taking flowers to a shrine in her name. I think that’s really romantic.”
“What do you know about romance?” Heath asked. “The girl who never dates. Who never even goes out. Forget girl geek, you’re the girl hermit.”
I laughed. “Social lives are so overrated. Especially when you have a game like this to play at home with your bestie.”
After the first hour of our newest addiction, I could tell it was only going to get better—our enjoyment—or worse—our addiction. Depended on how you looked at it.
General SylvanWood—the “old fart elfy dude”—thanked us for completing his quest. Then he summarily referred us to another Non-Player Character (NPC), who started yet another interesting quest chain. Each mission led us deeper and deeper down a virtual rabbit hole.
Yes, there was some grinding involved—what decent game wouldn’t be complete without the requisite grunt work to level up? But mostly it was an immersive story, filled with beautiful graphics and intriguing details that begged to be investigated.
This game was like crack—or worse, meth. And we got buzzed just running around Yondareth, the world of Dragon Epoch our newest and most interesting method of escape.
I couldn’t wait to venture out and see who else shared this gorgeous virtual world. It turned out I didn’t have to be so much of a hermit, because we met our first new friend that night—a human healer who went by the name of Persephone, as in the goddess of the underworld. That meeting was a simple matter of her putting up her LFG tag, which denoted her as looking for a group, and the two of us being badly in need of healing from our fights.
Heath had created a barbarian mercenary, a huge warrior that towered over my demure, slight elf woman. Fragged was as big and brawny as Heath was in true life, with muscles upon his muscles. As far as I was concerned, he was a hit-point absorbing machine—or as I liked to refer to him, my meat shield.
“Man, this is interesting, but I have some complaints already,” Heath said. “Lots of eye candy for the straight dudes to look at. Not so much in the way of hot men for the gays.”
“Or the straight girls,” I added. “Don’t forget us!”
He laughed. “I’m not about to, but I think this game might have. Jeez, look at the double D’s on that Valkyrie Mama. Wow. Wouldn’t that hurt running around with all that décor on the front hood?”
I looked over his shoulder at the avatar of an unknown player while our
new friend Persephone cackled over the voice chat.
I smirked. “Ten to one says that’s a guy playing her. And he used the customization features to make her bigger than Dolly Parton.”
“Huh…want to invite her to our group and find out?”
And bingo, I was right. It was a guy—under the age of eighteen. I nearly fell on the floor when Persephone asked him point blank if he was a guy and how old he was. I mean, I seriously had to put my hand over my mic because I was laughing so hard. Even Heath couldn’t keep a straight face as he proceeded to befriend the barely-pubescent young man.
We grouped with him again a few times after that first night, too, always making cracks amongst ourselves about the mangos, casabas, melons or whatever fruit we chose to compare them to that night. It’s a good thing the bra-makers of Yondareth were industrious enough to invent something for adequate support, even in the days before underwire was a possibility. Fine gnomish engineering at our fingertips!
I’d only allow myself to log on after homework was done, along with the requisite hour or two of studying for the MCAT. Reduced hours at the hospital job due to various scheduling issues made it so that I was fortunate enough to be able to log on every night during the beta test.
Aside from the fact that Persephone really got our humor, we seemed to click immediately. And the more we grouped with her, the better we got to know her.
“Almost out of mana. We need a slight break after the next fight,” she announced after a particularly grueling room we’d cleared in a set of underground caves leading up to the Minotaur King’s throne room.
We chatted while she regenerated her mana—the blue bar that allowed her to cast her spells.
“So… where are you two at?” She’d already picked up that we were roommates.
“SoCal. You? You must be West Coast since you’re in the same time zone.”
“British Columbia,” replied Persephone.
“Wow, a beer and poutine aficionado, huh?” Heath teased.
“Poutine is disgusting. Beer is everything,” she answered.
“You work? Or go to college?”
“Both. I babysit computers by night as a sysop. Simon Fraser University student by day. Sleep is optional.”
We gave her our details, along with our real names. She told us her real name was Katya.
I had only dabbled with Massive Multi-Player Online Roleplaying games before this—cough, World of Warcraft, cough—but now I truly appreciated the appeal of playing with new people. Before, I’d quickly grown tired of “grief” players who got their enjoyment from making life miserable for all other players around them. But the policies and terms of service of this game had made it abundantly clear that this behavior would not be tolerated.
The quests we pursued took us to broader and more dangerous areas that led to still more quests to complete. In fact, the game seemed to be quest after quest after endless quest. And I loved every minute of it, even the tedious ones, because the company was great. Then again, every game had its tedious—but necessary—moments, so at least in this game there was an interesting story behind even the simplest of quests. Like being asked to wander to the next field and pick a bouquet of daffodils for a doddering but kind old elf man in honor of his lost love.
Katya was quickly becoming our go-to girl as we worked together on quests and leveling up. And though we’d come to rely on one another, it became apparent that we needed someone to do more damage so we could kill the monsters faster. It just so happened that I came across that someone—after he nearly got my character killed.
I’d been minding my own business, gathering data on the game for eventual blog material—once the NDA was lifted, of course. That night, I was on my own, testing out how well I could fight solo against the mobs.
Without my two compadres to help me, I began to solo some troublesome gnolls who guarded the entrance to the mound outside their burrow. At my current level, fighting the pair of them was challenging, but I pushed my enchantress skills to their utmost potential.
While I put one of them into a mesmerized trance, I proceeded to beat up on his yipping compadre. The hyena-man got in a few good hits before I polished him off.
Unfortunately, as he fell to the ground and I turned my attention back to the swaying gnoll who awaited my magical wrath, a clueless spearman showed up out of nowhere to help “rescue” me.
The thing about putting mobs into a mesmerized trance is that, once they are awakened, they are mighty pissed off at the person who cast the magic on them. So though this strange little toon with a long white beard began to attack the gnoll on my behalf with his gigantic spear, the hyena-man went after me instead!
As a squishy spell caster, I didn’t have a lot of hit points. Even just a few hits hurt. A lot.
Dammit, I typed as I managed to fire off a “blurred memory” spell that would wipe away the hatred the gnoll bore for me—but also cause the spearman to get full credit for the kill. Why are you swiping my gnoll?
The spearman continued to swing at the hyena creature. He typed back, I’m helping you. I saw you had two mobs on you. I didn’t want you to get killed.
I fired off my biggest nuke spell and burned down half the gnoll’s hit points. I had it handled. He was mesmerized.
The spearman—FallenOne, so the bright blue name above his head declared—backed off immediately. Oh crap, I’m sorry. I thought you had aggro. Couldn’t tell you had control of the situation.
You’re such a newb, I replied. Don’t ever hit a mesmerized mob, or you are just kill stealing and mooching experience points from another player.
FWIW, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen an enchantress play like that… he replied. It’s a difficult class to solo with.
As I fired off my last spell and the gnoll’s corpse thudded to the ground, FallenOne emoted, bending down on a knee. His private message flashed across my screen. Apologies, milady. I wasn’t trying to steal your mob. How may I make it up to you?
I tapped my index finger on my lip, thinking. Was he in earnest or just a rookie preteen trying to get into my good graces so I’d cast some nice buff spells on him and send him on his way?
On the other hand, with that spear, his class did a lot of damage per second (DPS). That could be valuable, too… provided he wasn’t a newb idiot.
My group could use some DPS, assuming you aren’t too much of a newb, I typed.
He emoted a low bow. I promise not to screw up again.
I paused. Well, we could “screen” him, I guess. To see if he’d prove himself remotely helpful.
Play with us for an hour. If you’re useful, maybe we’ll keep you for longer. I bit my lip to fight a wicked smile. Man, I could be such a bitch when I wanted to. But hey, in all probability, he might not even show up.
Tomorrow night, 9 pm PST. Meet us by the city gate and we’ll group up.
Without hesitation, he bowed again. I am your servant, milady.
My brows arched. He certainly had the period lingo down. Maybe he was more experienced in fantasy gaming than he’d let on with his initial encounter.
I began the process for “camping out” of the game by sitting my character down. It took approximately thirty seconds. Right before disappearing, I replied to him, We shall see. Tomorrow. 9 pm.
I finished my day with my regimen of MCAT studying. Two hours today would hopefully make up for working the hospital job tomorrow and then gaming with the group later that night.
Sure enough, when we logged in at our appointed time, FallenOne was online and waiting for us. One minute after appearing at the city gate, he emoted a deep bow.
Surprised—even a little impressed—I rattled off a quick explanation of what had happened to my group members in voice chat. Then, I invited FallenOne to join us.
Unlike Heath, Katya, and me, FallenOne didn’t use the voice chat feature. He said it was because his equipment wasn’t working.
Maybe he doesn’t know how to properly use the voice chat func
tion. He strikes me as a bit of a newb, I opined in a joint private message to Heath and Katya (who had told us we could call her “Kat”).
He’s probably just shy, Kat replied.
Or maybe he’s just a poor student with shitty equipment. Why you girls gotta read into everything? As always, Heath had to “set us straight.”
The beauty of MMOs was that necessity made extroverts out of the most withdrawn introverts.
Despite my initial questionable encounter with FallenOne, we ended up finding him very helpful. He had a solid knowledge of the game, which was vital to those of us—read: all three of us—who were still floundering around figuring out how things worked.
The quests are tiered and gated, he explained. So finish the low level ones first and the higher level quests will open up. They interconnect. Like a web or network.
We’d only been playing this game for about ten days, so I was amazed. I was also surprised he was still the same level as us. “How do you know so much about this game?” Persephone asked during our first night together as a group.
I get around, was his only answer. There *was a closed alpha test before this, you know. This might be the closed beta, but the stress beta opens up in just two weeks. You’ll all be experts to the open beta people!
There was a long pause amongst us.
“Ohhhkay. FallenOne, you are officially the mystery man,” Heath declared.
Just the way I like it, Fallen replied.
“So I guess this means we don’t get to know your a/s/l?” joked Kat.
He answered with a snarky, a = old enough to know better, s = yes, as often as possible and l = here and there.
“And Yondareth, of course,” I said cheekily. “Where boobs defy gravity and men are hearty, strong and appealing to all. All except those attracted to men, that is,” I said, laughing as Heath made a face.
Wait, what? asked Fallen.
Ah, of course he hadn’t noticed. Seeing fantasy women dressed so scantily had become so much of a norm, most men accepted it without question. One more clueless male to educate! Girl Geek again gets her hands dirty so that the rest of womankind doesn’t have to—unless they want to, that is.
Girl Geek: A Gaming The System Prequel Page 2
