“Oh, great.” I said, and pulled me and my bad foot inside.
“Did you win?” She asked, not leaving it at that.
“No. And my team didn’t either.” I mounted the stairs with some difficulty. Thump. Thump, Thump. My foot rested limply on each stair.
She eyed my progress. “You’re hurt.”
“Oh yeah. All over.”
“That’s part of the game.” She said. “It toughens you. Gives you grit.”
“Or breaks you.” I said, sitting down on the bed.
She followed me into my bedroom. “It was one game. You’ll get better.”
“I don’t want to.” I yanked off my shoe, and peeling back my sock examined my foot. She leaned over my shoulder, entranced by the appearance of another metallic appendage. I pulled the sock all the way off, rolled the pants leg up, and then opened a panel. Seemed fine in there. I opened another. A screw fell out. I reached inside and pulled out a back panel, laying it to the side.
~<>~
Pretty soon the foot was pretty much dismantled on the floor. I, of course, couldn’t figure out what was wrong, much less fix it, but I figured to save face I had to try. December sat silently through all this.
I gave up eventually. The ground was littered with pieces. It would take me an hour just to reassemble this mess that way I didn’t lose anything. I was basically a LEGO set. A lot of pieces put together. And a pretty poorly designed one at that.
“The…Echelon…did that?” She gestured to my foot.
“Sure did, April.” I grabbed a piece of metal tubing and tried to fit it over a socket. “I bricking love your game. So much fun. Whee.”
“You gotta get yourself a dispensation.” She said.
“They won’t give me one.”
“They will if you show ‘em that.” She pointed at the leg.
“I don’t want to show them that.” I rolled my pants leg back down for the moment. “Cause you know the first thing they’ll do? They get somebody on that bricking loudspeaker to announce that their beloved new student from no school listed is a freak who doesn’t get to play the games.”
“So there’s no good option?” She asked.
“I gotta get this to a mechanic.” I scooped the parts into a ziplock bag and tucked it inside my jacket. “And hope he knows what internal wiring is supposed to look like.”
Why do both your characters have bum legs... He wants out but not at the expense of his pride....understandable.
He's pretty good at it. I know the feeling. I had one for forever too, by Sam. Rome was really good too before he went out of the business. YEy! What are your two favs?
He is. So many good designers. Cats and Foxes are my two favorite animals.
-last edited on Mar 26, 2019 3:07:14 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Mar 26, 2019 3:07:01 GMT
~<>~
I just had to make it through the day. I was up at 7. Let’s see…class would get out at two…I’d skip practice, of course. I could go straight to the shop then. Just…seven hours.
The day dragged like my foot. People stared but never asked. Thank goodness. I grabbed a tray for lunch, maneuvered my way through the line, getting all the worst stuff cause that’s the mood I was in. And then I found a table at the very back and I hunched over my food glaring down anybody who so much as glanced at my table.
The loudspeaker was spouting stats from this weekend’s matches. What an aberration. I wondered briefly if there was a way to turn it down.
People would sporadically cheer, and throw food. What an excitable load of dipwads. There was a big four-sided screen hanging from the ceiling that had more attention than the meal. Some people would miss their mouths with their silverware, they were staring at it so intently.
Finally, our match showed up. I watched it, hunched over my food. A small video recap. Four straight kills for squad #62. My death scene was briefly flashed. The room exploded.
Turns out I was a school meme now. Kids were slapping each other on the shoulder, and more than a few fingers pointed me out. There went anonymity.
Seemed pretty accurate. Everybody else had these fancy names. The rest of my squad had 81 affixed to the end of their usernames. “@tacks181,” “DeadBeat81” and “Argo2781.” I briefly pictured my gamer tag, “Nexo” up there, but then I shook my head. That would make me seem like I cared. My goal here was to get in and out of that horrid program as quickly as possible.
I felt something bounce off my head. I turned around slowly. Somebody hollered “NICE STATS” which set off a chorus of abuse from the cafeteria crowd.
“I KNOW, RIGHT?” I yelled back, and turned around.
-last edited on Mar 26, 2019 3:08:56 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Mar 26, 2019 3:08:46 GMT
Tacks’s stats were up next. A rowdy chorus of boos. It appears I was not part of a popular squad. Yay.
Player: @tacks181 Squad: #81 Rating: 9 Value: 86%
A sight better than mine. No wonder she was ticked. DeadBeat was a bit behind there, a rank-7 player, and Argo’s hard-earned 6 was displayed. They finally moved on, and I stood up and dumped my tray into the trash before stalking off to class. I fell asleep before Julianna showed up, thus escaping confrontation, and only woke up as she breezed past me.
I told the teacher “thanks for class” for kicks, and then dragged myself out the door.
~<>~
I ordered a taxi to take me to the shop. I eyed the charge bar ticking up as the self-driven hovercar spun through the airflow. I was the only human being in this hovercar. And I was in no way in control. Comforting. It did drop me off at the right place though. And it only took a small fraction of the dues paid by Ojo. Good, I’d need the rest to pay the mechanic.
The shop was just an over-sized apartment with a garage, at least from the outside. I knocked on the door cause it didn’t appear to have a lobby. Nobody answered in the first five minutes, so I eventually just invited myself in. I invited myself to a mint as well, and headed into the back. I found a door that led to the garage, and pushed my way in.
Ah, here was the action. There was a clanking coming from somewhere, at the very least. I walked around for a bit, checking out the gear and looking for the guy. He found me.
“Are you stealing stuff?” A voice arrested me.
I gently set down the fan motor I was fondling. “I should’ve brought a bag.”
“Did I say you could come in?” I was confronted with a fellow standing in the shadows. I couldn’t see much besides the glint on the wrench in his hands, and his eyes, which unsettlingly enough were a deep blue. Like, the whites were blue. The rest appeared to be black. He looked like something out of Avatar or something so far.
“No, but your mat said ‘welcome.’ And so far, I like your mat more than you. More civil.” I twisted the mint around in my mouth.
“Them stupid neighbor kids keep sticking that thing there.” He snorted. “They’re hoping I’ll stick a key under it.”
I almost didn’t show up. In fact, I was still in bed, wide awake and grinning like maniac up till fifteen minutes before the game began. August was watching the time, though, and I just ended up being a few minutes late, which just made things worse with my little band of buddies.
“You’re late.” Tacks said.
“But I’m here, which is more than I bargained on.” I tugged at my armpit.
“I thought there could be nothing worse than playing shorthanded out here, but I get the feeling you’re gonna prove me wrong.” Tacks stepped into the airlock.
I paused on the threshold. “Shouldn’t you brief me in or something?”
“I should. I would’ve, if you’d shown up on time. If we aren’t out there in thirty seconds it’s a forfeit.”
DeadBeat shoved me into the elevator as he climbed in. Argo hopped in and pressed the appropriate button. The ride down was brief and intensely awkward. I yanked at my suit, aware it was accenting all my worst features.
They were all clustered around a screen on the wall, having an intense conversation that in no way included me. That’s okay. I could form my own little group. Me and my metal limbs. Team cyborg.
The door revolved. The playing field stretched out before us. “Good luck.” Tacks shot out of the opening. The other two followed. I got the feeling they didn’t expect me to follow. There was no way I was going to keep up anyways. I watched them disappear around a corner, and then finally realized that this was no longer training field #7.
My eyes widened. It was glorious. They didn’t need immersion gear. This was the real deal.
I stepped out of the gate and into an Eastern metropolis. Symbols were grafted onto the buildings, and the city was lit by hundreds of neon signs and pink street-lamps. People bustled all around me, pixelly pre-programmed people that had more of a social life than I did, obviously.
They also had jobs. I watched one fry a batch of fish on an exposed grill for a restaurant. The details. The coding. It was insane.
It was such a waste that they had turned this into a high school sporting event.
I spent the next fifteen minutes wandering around the game, getting ran over by very-material people and ogling at the exotic sights. I remembered way too late that this was a spectator sport, and walked into a building to escape the eyes of my tormentors. They weren’t privy to my personal awe of this place.
I ended up sitting on a couch, watching anime. There was literally a movie on. It wasn’t looped or anything, the whole film appeared to be playing out. I was actually getting really engrossed, when all of a sudden I wasn’t alone.
Tacks’s stats were up next. A rowdy chorus of boos. It appears I was not part of a popular squad. Yay.
Player: @tacks181 Squad: #81 Rating: 9 Value: 86%
A sight better than mine. No wonder she was ticked. DeadBeat was a bit behind there, a rank-7 player, and Argo’s hard-earned 6 was displayed. They finally moved on, and I stood up and dumped my tray into the trash before stalking off to class. I fell asleep before Julianna showed up, thus escaping confrontation, and only woke up as she breezed past me.
I told the teacher “thanks for class” for kicks, and then dragged myself out the door.
~<>~
I ordered a taxi to take me to the shop. I eyed the charge bar ticking up as the self-driven hovercar spun through the airflow. I was the only human being in this hovercar. And I was in no way in control. Comforting. It did drop me off at the right place though. And it only took a small fraction of the dues paid by Ojo. Good, I’d need the rest to pay the mechanic.
The shop was just an over-sized apartment with a garage, at least from the outside. I knocked on the door cause it didn’t appear to have a lobby. Nobody answered in the first five minutes, so I eventually just invited myself in. I invited myself to a mint as well, and headed into the back. I found a door that led to the garage, and pushed my way in.
Ah, here was the action. There was a clanking coming from somewhere, at the very least. I walked around for a bit, checking out the gear and looking for the guy. He found me.
“Are you stealing stuff?” A voice arrested me.
I gently set down the fan motor I was fondling. “I should’ve brought a bag.”
“Did I say you could come in?” I was confronted with a fellow standing in the shadows. I couldn’t see much besides the glint on the wrench in his hands, and his eyes, which unsettlingly enough were a deep blue. Like, the whites were blue. The rest appeared to be black. He looked like something out of Avatar or something so far.
“No, but your mat said ‘welcome.’ And so far, I like your mat more than you. More civil.” I twisted the mint around in my mouth.
“Them stupid neighbor kids keep sticking that thing there.” He snorted. “They’re hoping I’ll stick a key under it.”
Caught up!
I thought your writing was at its best when I read BASICS - I was wrong. Every story you've written has caught my full attention and interest, and has been even better every time!
I just had to make it through the day. I was up at 7. Let’s see…class would get out at two…I’d skip practice, of course. I could go straight to the shop then. Just…seven hours.
The day dragged like my foot. People stared but never asked. Thank goodness. I grabbed a tray for lunch, maneuvered my way through the line, getting all the worst stuff cause that’s the mood I was in. And then I found a table at the very back and I hunched over my food glaring down anybody who so much as glanced at my table.
The loudspeaker was spouting stats from this weekend’s matches. What an aberration. I wondered briefly if there was a way to turn it down.
People would sporadically cheer, and throw food. What an excitable load of dipwads. There was a big four-sided screen hanging from the ceiling that had more attention than the meal. Some people would miss their mouths with their silverware, they were staring at it so intently.
Finally, our match showed up. I watched it, hunched over my food. A small video recap. Four straight kills for squad #62. My death scene was briefly flashed. The room exploded.
Turns out I was a school meme now. Kids were slapping each other on the shoulder, and more than a few fingers pointed me out. There went anonymity.
Seemed pretty accurate. Everybody else had these fancy names. The rest of my squad had 81 affixed to the end of their usernames. “@tacks181,” “DeadBeat81” and “Argo2781.” I briefly pictured my gamer tag, “Nexo” up there, but then I shook my head. That would make me seem like I cared. My goal here was to get in and out of that horrid program as quickly as possible.
I felt something bounce off my head. I turned around slowly. Somebody hollered “NICE STATS” which set off a chorus of abuse from the cafeteria crowd.
“I KNOW, RIGHT?” I yelled back, and turned around.
Tacks’s stats were up next. A rowdy chorus of boos. It appears I was not part of a popular squad. Yay.
Player: @tacks181 Squad: #81 Rating: 9 Value: 86%
A sight better than mine. No wonder she was ticked. DeadBeat was a bit behind there, a rank-7 player, and Argo’s hard-earned 6 was displayed. They finally moved on, and I stood up and dumped my tray into the trash before stalking off to class. I fell asleep before Julianna showed up, thus escaping confrontation, and only woke up as she breezed past me.
I told the teacher “thanks for class” for kicks, and then dragged myself out the door.
~<>~
I ordered a taxi to take me to the shop. I eyed the charge bar ticking up as the self-driven hovercar spun through the airflow. I was the only human being in this hovercar. And I was in no way in control. Comforting. It did drop me off at the right place though. And it only took a small fraction of the dues paid by Ojo. Good, I’d need the rest to pay the mechanic.
The shop was just an over-sized apartment with a garage, at least from the outside. I knocked on the door cause it didn’t appear to have a lobby. Nobody answered in the first five minutes, so I eventually just invited myself in. I invited myself to a mint as well, and headed into the back. I found a door that led to the garage, and pushed my way in.
Ah, here was the action. There was a clanking coming from somewhere, at the very least. I walked around for a bit, checking out the gear and looking for the guy. He found me.
“Are you stealing stuff?” A voice arrested me.
I gently set down the fan motor I was fondling. “I should’ve brought a bag.”
“Did I say you could come in?” I was confronted with a fellow standing in the shadows. I couldn’t see much besides the glint on the wrench in his hands, and his eyes, which unsettlingly enough were a deep blue. Like, the whites were blue. The rest appeared to be black. He looked like something out of Avatar or something so far.
“No, but your mat said ‘welcome.’ And so far, I like your mat more than you. More civil.” I twisted the mint around in my mouth.
“Them stupid neighbor kids keep sticking that thing there.” He snorted. “They’re hoping I’ll stick a key under it.”
Who is this guy I wonder. He seems strange that's for sure.
I have an odd fondness for snarky and sassy attitudes.
Same tho. Does her more brutal side appeal to you as well?
Not especially. That part reminds me of dirt-brained jerks I had to deal with when I was younger, but I think I can appreciate a good character when I read one.
![[y]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/WYWPH2VRo26pOFDid7QZ.png)
I know the feeling. I had one for forever too, by Sam. 
Rome was really good too before he went out of the business. YEy! What are your two favs?
Cats and Foxes are my two favorite animals.
