Boomer knocked on my shop door like he had any business being here. I stared out at the peek hole, wondering why the bricks he was on my doorstep. Did he want a weapon? I’d made him a perfectly serviceable spear that’s warranty had just expired two weeks ago. “What do you want?”
“A tier 32 knife.”
I glared at him.
“C’mon, man. I was just stopping by.”
“I have stuff to do.”
“Like bricks you do.” He pushed his way inside. “I know you. You’re a week ahead schedule.”
“Only two days. I’m running behind.” I said, still standing at the door.
“No, the whole point is that it’s not actually due…” He gave up mid-explanation. “Close the door, you’re letting in a drift.”
“You’re not in an immersion rig. You can’t feel the temperature.” He hadn’t told me. I had my ways of knowing.
“Just…shut the door.” He said, running out of small talk. He had something to say.
I shut it, locked it, and turned back to him. “What’s up?”
“There’s change brewing.” He said.
“And I’m sure it’ll make a nice (root) beer.” I said. “This in no way involves me.”
“I’m not so sure we’ll be able to keep our necks out of it this time.” Boomer shook his finger.
“I know you won’t.” I said. “But I am a different matter.” He had a reputation of jumping on brand-new bandwagons, which petered out quickly, leaving him stranded yet again in our town with crushed hopes and too much time on his hands.
“You’re human too.”
“I’m actually Karcan.” I said. “Their skin tone was just right.”
Boomer eyed the shop, eyes taking in the weapons. “There’s a new guy.”
“There always is.” I said. “A new user logs on ever three seconds, statistically.”
“I met him.” Boomer said. “He’s out to change the way this game operates.”
“He’s a hacker?” I raised an incredulous, disapproving eyebrow.
Change brewing? Bring it on! And yes yes, get him out of that shop and into the game where the real fun is!!
“The Commonwealth and the Iron Guild are the only two factions swapping seats.” I said. “They were established within a month of the Game’s release. It’s been five years now. Five years of failure after failure in attempts to unseat them.”
“It’s different this time!” Boomer protested.
“That was the slogan of the last guy.” I picked up my piece, the bow, and compared it to the design I was working off of. Not bad, and 56% of the way done.
“You’ll see.” Boomer’s skull mask glinted in the weird lighting of my shop.
“No, I won’t. Cause I’m gonna stay holed up here.” I adjusted an out-of-position lamp and laid the bow reverently back down.
“Maybe it’ll come to you.”
“It’ll have to get past the door first.” I said, though I had no real confidence in my locks. I escorted Boomer to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
“Is that all this game is to you? Work?”
I tried to shut the door on him, but he slipped back inside. “That’s not all.”
What, is his sister promising free unlimited resources or something?” I snarled.
“I found something.”
“I find things all the time. I can’t find the patience to put up with you, though.” I made another attempt to shove him out.
“Ore.” He said. “Lore ore.”
I paused. I knew what that was. Slowly, I asked, “what tier?”
“I haven’t figured out yet. I’m trying to keep the bigs off my trail. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
“Well then, come back when you have.” I finally shoved him out, and locked the door. I turned around with a grumble, and headed back for my bow. Ever since I had a leg shot offline with one of these, the project had been a bit more distasteful.
I'm listening to Boomer, this will concern him someday, somehow!
“The Commonwealth and the Iron Guild are the only two factions swapping seats.” I said. “They were established within a month of the Game’s release. It’s been five years now. Five years of failure after failure in attempts to unseat them.”
“It’s different this time!” Boomer protested.
“That was the slogan of the last guy.” I picked up my piece, the bow, and compared it to the design I was working off of. Not bad, and 56% of the way done.
“You’ll see.” Boomer’s skull mask glinted in the weird lighting of my shop.
“No, I won’t. Cause I’m gonna stay holed up here.” I adjusted an out-of-position lamp and laid the bow reverently back down.
“Maybe it’ll come to you.”
“It’ll have to get past the door first.” I said, though I had no real confidence in my locks. I escorted Boomer to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
“Is that all this game is to you? Work?”
I tried to shut the door on him, but he slipped back inside. “That’s not all.”
What, is his sister promising free unlimited resources or something?” I snarled.
“I found something.”
“I find things all the time. I can’t find the patience to put up with you, though.” I made another attempt to shove him out.
“Ore.” He said. “Lore ore.”
I paused. I knew what that was. Slowly, I asked, “what tier?”
“I haven’t figured out yet. I’m trying to keep the bigs off my trail. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
“Well then, come back when you have.” I finally shoved him out, and locked the door. I turned around with a grumble, and headed back for my bow. Ever since I had a leg shot offline with one of these, the project had been a bit more distasteful.
Things just took an interesting turn in these two chapters. O.O
It took him bricking forever. My human leg had fallen asleep, now I couldn’t feel either foot. I guess this was better than surgery, but at least it was one and done there. I was going to be late for supper. Hopefully December was stalling her mom.
He clicked the final panel back on. “Let’s give it a shot.”
I ran internal diagnostics. My ping came back “foot status: back online.” I wondered what the bricks my foot was doing online. What did it need internet for?
“Appears you done it.” I said. “Ever worked on a cyborg before?”
“A few.” He shrugged and cracked his shoulder blades. I winced. Who did that?
I felt around my pocket, pulling out my chip. “How much will it be?”
“The repair’s free.” He said.
“There’s absolutely no way I’m going to accept that.” Personal debt always hung over my head like a persistent personal storm cloud.
“But the mint you took is gonna cost 105 creds.” I didn’t know what prices were like down here on cyborg repairs, but I got the feeling he was giving me a steal.
“Shall I add the rug on?”
“You can leave a tip for that if you wish.”
I paid up. “I hope to never see you again.”
“Don’t call me on a weekend.” He said, and I left.
These guys! XD They are like long lost uncle and nephew or something like that.
Boomer knocked on my shop door like he had any business being here. I stared out at the peek hole, wondering why the bricks he was on my doorstep. Did he want a weapon? I’d made him a perfectly serviceable spear that’s warranty had just expired two weeks ago. “What do you want?”
“A tier 32 knife.”
I glared at him.
“C’mon, man. I was just stopping by.”
“I have stuff to do.”
“Like bricks you do.” He pushed his way inside. “I know you. You’re a week ahead schedule.”
“Only two days. I’m running behind.” I said, still standing at the door.
“No, the whole point is that it’s not actually due…” He gave up mid-explanation. “Close the door, you’re letting in a drift.”
“You’re not in an immersion rig. You can’t feel the temperature.” He hadn’t told me. I had my ways of knowing.
“Just…shut the door.” He said, running out of small talk. He had something to say.
I shut it, locked it, and turned back to him. “What’s up?”
“There’s change brewing.” He said.
“And I’m sure it’ll make a nice (root) beer.” I said. “This in no way involves me.”
“I’m not so sure we’ll be able to keep our necks out of it this time.” Boomer shook his finger.
“I know you won’t.” I said. “But I am a different matter.” He had a reputation of jumping on brand-new bandwagons, which petered out quickly, leaving him stranded yet again in our town with crushed hopes and too much time on his hands.
“You’re human too.”
“I’m actually Karcan.” I said. “Their skin tone was just right.”
Boomer eyed the shop, eyes taking in the weapons. “There’s a new guy.”
“There always is.” I said. “A new user logs on ever three seconds, statistically.”
“I met him.” Boomer said. “He’s out to change the way this game operates.”
“He’s a hacker?” I raised an incredulous, disapproving eyebrow.
Change brewing? Bring it on! And yes yes, get him out of that shop and into the game where the real fun is!!
The character and the author realized he needed to get out and do more at the same time.
“The Commonwealth and the Iron Guild are the only two factions swapping seats.” I said. “They were established within a month of the Game’s release. It’s been five years now. Five years of failure after failure in attempts to unseat them.”
“It’s different this time!” Boomer protested.
“That was the slogan of the last guy.” I picked up my piece, the bow, and compared it to the design I was working off of. Not bad, and 56% of the way done.
“You’ll see.” Boomer’s skull mask glinted in the weird lighting of my shop.
“No, I won’t. Cause I’m gonna stay holed up here.” I adjusted an out-of-position lamp and laid the bow reverently back down.
“Maybe it’ll come to you.”
“It’ll have to get past the door first.” I said, though I had no real confidence in my locks. I escorted Boomer to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
“Is that all this game is to you? Work?”
I tried to shut the door on him, but he slipped back inside. “That’s not all.”
What, is his sister promising free unlimited resources or something?” I snarled.
“I found something.”
“I find things all the time. I can’t find the patience to put up with you, though.” I made another attempt to shove him out.
“Ore.” He said. “Lore ore.”
I paused. I knew what that was. Slowly, I asked, “what tier?”
“I haven’t figured out yet. I’m trying to keep the bigs off my trail. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
“Well then, come back when you have.” I finally shoved him out, and locked the door. I turned around with a grumble, and headed back for my bow. Ever since I had a leg shot offline with one of these, the project had been a bit more distasteful.
Things just took an interesting turn in these two chapters. O.O
Finally, some in-game action. Or at least, set-up for in-game action.
I finally showed up to practice Wednesday. Monday was my leg repairs. I didn’t have an excuse for Tuesday. They didn’t ask. I put on my suit as slowly as possible, and rode the elevator down by myself.
We were on practice field #8 now, it appeared. It was a bit more hilly, and there were what looked like monkey bars set up at random. It felt like preschool again, except I’d never gone to preschool. The squad had already started, clambering over obstructions pointlessly. I watched from the sidelines for a bit, clapping when appropriate. It never was, but I still found opportunities. Normally after one of them had messed up gloriously.
Tacks studiously ignored me. I was glad of that, a confrontation with her right now would probably leave me more bruised than an apple that substituted for a soccer ball for a day. DeadBeat cast me a few baleful glances, like he really wished he could go over and pound me but didn’t feel like he’d be justified today.
And Argo, well, she came over eventually and sat down next to me. “Wanna hop in?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Why’d you come then?” She kept her voice even, friendly even. It must’ve been quite the struggle.
I shrugged. “It’s like free TV.”
“I’m glad you find us so amusing.” She stood up, turning to walk away. “You do know that if we lodge a complaint about your participation levels, you might get expelled, right?” My brain attempted to deny this.
I looked it up later. Nope, she was right. If I was proven to be lacking in participation according to standards set by committee, then I could be dismissed. Squad #81 were exceeding the standards. I personally was well-below them.
“Attend practice three days a week?” I whined. “And active participation for an hour?”
December chose this moment to walk in. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s a very big problem.” I said.
“Why, what do you have scheduled over that time?” She sat down on an available cardboard box.
I gave her a nasty look and turned away to continue perusing the guidelines.
“Like, literally, all you do is play that stupid amazing videogame.” December scratched at the box with her fingernails. “Haven’t you made any friends? Met any girls?”
“Look here, September.” I said, putting emphasis on her name. “I don’t need friends.”
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and started ripping off a strip of cardboard.
“I’m doing just fine running solo.” I said and settled back. “My life is great.”
“You don’t have a life.” She said. “It’s only in your head and on your videogame.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
“What if the game closed?”
I snorted. “Not gonna happen.”
“If it does, don’t come bawling to me.” She shook a finger at me.
“You’re such a mom.” I said. “And stop destroying my furniture.”
“Fine!” She said, tossing the cardboard scrap at me and vanishing back down the hole. “I hope your gear glitches!”
“I hope your scarf gets kidney disease!” I yelled after her, cause I didn’t really hate her.
I looked it up later. Nope, she was right. If I was proven to be lacking in participation according to standards set by committee, then I could be dismissed. Squad #81 were exceeding the standards. I personally was well-below them.
“Attend practice three days a week?” I whined. “And active participation for an hour?”
December chose this moment to walk in. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s a very big problem.” I said.
“Why, what do you have scheduled over that time?” She sat down on an available cardboard box.
I gave her a nasty look and turned away to continue perusing the guidelines.
“Like, literally, all you do is play that stupid amazing videogame.” December scratched at the box with her fingernails. “Haven’t you made any friends? Met any girls?”
“Look here, September.” I said, putting emphasis on her name. “I don’t need friends.”
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and started ripping off a strip of cardboard.
“I’m doing just fine running solo.” I said and settled back. “My life is great.”
“You don’t have a life.” She said. “It’s only in your head and on your videogame.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
“What if the game closed?”
I snorted. “Not gonna happen.”
“If it does, don’t come bawling to me.” She shook a finger at me.
“You’re such a mom.” I said. “And stop destroying my furniture.”
“Fine!” She said, tossing the cardboard scrap at me and vanishing back down the hole. “I hope your gear glitches!”
“I hope your scarf gets kidney disease!” I yelled after her, cause I didn’t really hate her.
![[derp]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/YqNTPqyQUocVMYXZgUAI.png)
And yes yes, get him out of that shop and into the game where the real fun is!! 
Like, it's a legit rule. 
