-last edited on Jun 1, 2018 16:16:44 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Jun 1, 2018 16:16:25 GMT
“Hey, we just wanted to come by and see how you were…” Mateo said, nudging me. “Missed you at class.”
I almost snorted, but restrained myself due the butler, who was staring down his nose at me in a way that indicated if I so much as looked at his charge wrong, he would toss me down the steps, bad leg or no.
“So, anyways, heard you’re grounded.” Mateo finished, rather lamely.
“Yeah…” She nudged the carpet with the toe of her tennies. “Gave me some time to play LMB, though!” She brightened.
I had been hoping she wouldn’t invite us into her room, but that suddenly changed.
“Yeah, and, uh, sorry for, uh, getting you in trouble.” Mateo said. “We didn’t know things would turn out that way.” Actually, I had figured on the mad man, and even the police. What I hadn’t figured on was me being dumb enough to try jumping a whole flight of steps, and a trigger-happy five year-old with pepper spray. I didn’t offer up this information, though.
“That’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Celeste said.
“I better not have been.” The butler gave both me and Mateo a look that actually made him quiver. I didn’t, but that was only because I had seen that look before on a sergeant’s face during interrogations about the camp’s missing salt shakers. And that one had been coming from a guy with a machine gun and martial law behind him.
“So, uh, you can come in.” She said, clearly realizing it was safer if we talked away from her parent’s paid spy.
“We should probably get going…” Mateo spoke up.
I felt like hitting Mateo over the head with something the approximate hardness of a stainless steel baseball bat. Nothing was handy that was unlikely to dent, so I let him live.
“But, hey, yeah, we can come in for a few secs!” He said.
I took up the rear as we entered, and tried to fake nonchalance.
Np. I have missionary family so I know small bits of spanish. True. No it's really not. I noticed. -_-
I took Spanish, but it didn't teach me much practical stuff. I think something deep inside every author just wants to see their characters stretched to their absolute limits. Couldn't help it.
Oh lol, I got volunteered into spanish but now I'm doing french instead, I like it better. That is a very true truth. You might have.
I took Spanish, but it didn't teach me much practical stuff. I think something deep inside every author just wants to see their characters stretched to their absolute limits. Couldn't help it.
Oh lol, I got volunteered into spanish but now I'm doing french instead, I like it better. That is a very true truth. You might have.
Oi, mademoiselle. Are their other types of truths? No, the CONputer was unplugged for painting.
We walked in, and I immediately wished I hadn’t. And it wasn’t because the walls were pink. By now I was quite familiar with how immersion rigs looked, due to many google searches involving both them and the probability of winning the lottery. And the one before me was one of the newest.
Mateo’s jaw dropped, and his eyes popped. I restrained myself better, leaning back on the wall and trying to act like all my friends had immersion rigs.
Seeing as Mateo was my only friend, and he was currently staring at the thing like it was likely to sprout legs and start tap-dancing, I figured she could see through my act.
“Do you guys play any LMB?” She asked, walking over and rubbing at a spot on the machine as if it could possibly be dirty.
“Oh, yes.” Mateo breathed. “Lots.”
I glanced at the door to make sure it was in fact closed, with the butler on the other side. It was, so I felt safe in letting loose a loud snort.
“What, you don’t?” She asked.
“Some.” I replied evasively.
“We should totally swap gamer tags!” She said.
Mateo’s face brightened like Taylor Swift had just autographed his soccer ball with hearts and kisses. “Yep, uh, mine’s legosandmore13. Want me to write it out?” His hand started automatically making the motions.
I buried my face in my hands. I noticed when they disappeared into the corner to find a sheet of paper to write it down on, and I stepped up and inspected the machine.
It was the definition of cool. Sleek, CONplicated, green even. It had a slight hum to it as it sat there, ready to take its user deep into the coding, thrust into the game as if you were living it. I could only imagine. Literally, that’s all I could, and would ever be able to, do. I sighed. Nothing like a trip uptown to remind you just how junky your setup was.
Celeste appeared at my elbow. “Like it?”
“It’s a beauty alright.” I agreed, because to call it anything else would be blasphemous.
-last edited on Jun 3, 2018 16:29:08 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Jun 3, 2018 16:28:37 GMT
“Wanna try it out?” She offered.
Tempting. So badly. I wanted too. And at the same time, I knew once I got on there, I could never go back. The game would never be the same; I’d always play it longing to be back in an immersion rig. It’d be ruined. I shook my head no.
“How about you?” She turned to Mateo. He lunged at the opportunity, answering “yes” so quickly he practically cut her offer off.
She helped him into the gear, though it was a bit awkward due to patches having to be applied to bare skin. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and took over that job before it got too awkward in here. He was rigged up soon enough, with enough wires protruding from under his shirt to make you wonder if he ran on a battery and this was his charging station.
He climbed up into the actual seat as Celeste gave instructions. He strapped himself in, and then the seat lifted away. He was left hanging there, supported under his arm pits and by lots of different wires and strings hooked to him.
She pressed a button, and dropped him into the game. I watched for a while, but soon realized that it was pretty darn boring watching somebody else having fun, and stared at the wall instead, which, incidentally, wasn’t any more interesting, but at least it wasn’t having a better time than I was.
Celeste still had her eyes pinned on Mateo, watching as he seemed to swim through the air. “Why didn’t you want a go?”
I could explain it. My deep-seated CONvictions that the game was best played only on the level you could afford. Or go deeper. I also didn’t want to betray my quest to discover a way to play the game above average using only the chatter combat (which she likely didn’t even know existed), but I refrained myself to the simplest explanation. “I hurt my leg.”
She glanced down at it. “Oh, was that after the game?”
“Yeah, I panicked and tried jumping a whole flight of steps.” I tugged at my shorts subconsciously. “It wasn’t my brightest moment.”
“Hey, we all do stupid stuff.” She said, which was oddly CONsoling.
Due to me finishing up the Runner, I now have twice as much time to write this story, hence I have a bunch of parts backed up. I'll be posting them a bit faster. Sorry LEGO.
“My parents both have positions down here.” She said, offering no clue as to what their actual positions were. Government, then. Nobody was proud of being a politician, at least not down here.
“Ah.” I said, putting to good use those day-long lectures by our professor on how to carry on an intellectual CONversation.
“Why do you hate me?” She asked.
Now would’ve been a good time to leave, it wasn’t for the fact my friend was hung from her ceiling screaming and waving his arms around like an idiot. My sensess went into overdrive as I tried to find a good enough answer to get out of this situation without offending her. Then again, I probably had already offended her. I opened my mouth, but then realized I didn’t have anything to say, and finally just shrugged.
“Guess I’ll have to find out on my own, and make you change your mind.” She said.
I glanced at her. She was serious. Dead serious. She really meant it. Why did she care so much?
I shook that thought off, not wanting to pursue that train of thought into station. I glanced up at Mateo. “Can we get him down?”
“Sure.” She said, almost sadly. “You probably want to leave.”
That’s when I decided I hated all girls, because they were so darned good at making me feel bad about myself.
-last edited on Jun 4, 2018 16:11:11 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Jun 4, 2018 16:10:51 GMT
~<>~
“It was like, whoot, zap, BAM!” Mateo said, swinging his arms around expressively.
“Yeah.” I muttered. “I get you.”
“No, because you wouldn’t hop in her rig, man! She offered!” Mateo poked me in the stomach. “Just cause you don’t like her doesn’t mean you don’t have to like her stuff!”
I raised an eyebrow, side-stepped him, and continued trekking.
He caught back up. “Why didn’t you at least try it out? C’mon, man, it was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
I glanced up at him, suddenly sad. My eyes must have said everything, because he stared deeply at them, and then took a quick glance at my leg. “Oh.”
“Even on a good day.” I said. “That’d be more pain than pleasure.”
“Sorry.” He said.
“Not your fault. Glad you had fun, though.” I said, and I meant it. He had a dream come true today. I shouldn’t ruin it for him. “How was it to be actually in the game?”
I listened to him chatter all the way till we reached our destination, the abandoned warehouse.
I walked straight up to the wall, and pulled out a sharpie. I wrote:
“Claimed as of April 16 2047.”
I then scratched a tally mark below it. “One day down.”
Je suis une fille. In one year though that will change to Je suis une femme. Yep. SPEED PAINTING!!!
Don't grow up, please. *world turns upside down* I wish.
I'll try. XD I tell myself over and over again, it's just a number, you can still be just as childish as you want. XD WOOOT! Don't we all? Open a window once and a while, I don't want you ded.
It just makes me feel bad for burying you in parts. 
I have missionary family so I know small bits of spanish. 
I think something deep inside every author just wants to see their characters stretched to their absolute limits. 
![[derp]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/YqNTPqyQUocVMYXZgUAI.png)
