I spawned inside my shop. My eyes wandered over my stuff, checking to make sure it was all still here. I had locked up last time, but you could never be too sure. This wouldn’t be the first time somebody threw a rock at my window and then tried to climb through. And that was despite a ten foot drop on either side.
The forge was out. I grabbed a long metal prong, and treaded over. My booted feet were soft on the cold concrete floor, which was a bit rough, but not quite just glued-together gravel. I poked the embers. There was enough orange left there to forgo breaking out the flamethrower.
My equipment was a mixture of old and new. That’s what the game had done: fused our history with our present. You could be a blacksmith, you could be a marksman, you could be a plumber. Everything was fair game. There wasn’t much call for plumbers, though.
I checked under my menu, looking at my notes. I had only three orders right now, two of them just minor repairs on previous jobs. Then I had my custom weapon, ordered by an oricsh-looking fellow who had said he lost his last blade imbedded in an assassin. I didn’t ask questions. Their business was not my business.
Some people thrived off the blood and bureaucrats in the game, they fed off the intrigue and interplay like leeches. But then there were humble folk like me that were just trying to eke out a living well on the outskirts, making honest money on virtual items that had absolutely no physical manifestation.
I didn’t care what bloc he came from. He had probably told me, trying to recruit a new member, but honestly, I didn’t give a ### about all the factions. They all wanted the same thing, which was power, and I was critically cynical of that regime. I mean, only one guy gets to be on top. I checked the leaderboard briefly, just to see if I had missed anything big in my afternoon absence. Nope. FF’s main man “skulduggery773” was still up there. There had been some fluctuation in the scores, though, so something had gone down. Oh well, it was presumably miles away from my humble abode, and leagues away from actually effecting me.
I was the neutral party in a world that screamed at you to pick a side. Thus I had no friends. Oh well, I didn’t want any. Friends were dangerous. They were a weakness. People could use them against you. And plus they tended to get in scrapes and then start squealing your name.
I flipped my menu back away as the knock rang out on my door. I gave up temporarily on the sputtering flames, and crossed the room. I pulled back the deadbolt, and peeked out of my sophisticated little eyehole.
I opened the door with a grim sigh. “I said next week.”
The orcish fellow was on the stoop, wringing his hands. His username was flashing above his head, blinking “Ojo” whenever I looked at him too closely. His stats were also listed, which weren’t all that bad. He had a lot of XP for such a short survival time. He was probably an assassin himself. Unless, of course, he was a snap, but hey, let’s not jump to conclusions. “I know, I know.” He replied. “I just wanted to, you know…see it.”
I have no words for the awesome amazingness I need some new adjectives of how this story draws you in. moar moar moar.
I didn't figure my gaming parts would go over so well.
I don't really know what to say to that.. But an experience like that must have had an impact on your view of both IRL situations and fictional stories like this.
Yeah, as a kid it was rough, but I would honestly say I'd do it all over again.
I had a really lame revelation written, but I deleted it thanks to your comment about really looking forward to it. Thank you for making me a better writer.
I was the neutral party in a world that screamed at you to pick a side. Thus I had no friends. Oh well, I didn’t want any. Friends were dangerous. They were a weakness. People could use them against you. And plus they tended to get in scrapes and then start squealing your name.
I flipped my menu back away as the knock rang out on my door. I gave up temporarily on the sputtering flames, and crossed the room. I pulled back the deadbolt, and peeked out of my sophisticated little eyehole.
I opened the door with a grim sigh. “I said next week.”
The orcish fellow was on the stoop, wringing his hands. His username was flashing above his head, blinking “Ojo” whenever I looked at him too closely. His stats were also listed, which weren’t all that bad. He had a lot of XP for such a short survival time. He was probably an assassin himself. Unless, of course, he was a snap, but hey, let’s not jump to conclusions. “I know, I know.” He replied. “I just wanted to, you know…see it.”
Dang, this feels like a new, edgy feel to the online world we came to know so well in the last book. And that paragraph I bolded. . . that kinda hit home with me. xP
Forget everything you ever knew about the old game.
Yeah, it's a neat experience. Every kid kind of brings in their own multitude of problems, though, so don't take it lightly. We just did the really little ones.
No yea, it's bc those kiddos need a safe place that I think it's a really cool idea. One good family will change their lives forever. Oh that's nice, that they got to grow up with a stable, and good environment. ^v^
Eh, the problem was that it was only temporary. And there were visits and stuff during all that time, so it wasn't all that stable. We did the best we could though.
So, fun fact, my family participated in foster care a while back. I've got seven foster siblings out there that I haven't seen in at least 4 years or so now...but they still all are a part of my life. I'd love to meet them again one day.
Honestly, the most traumatic day in my life so far was saying good-bye to a little girl we had from birth till a little over a year old. Broke my heart. Miss you, Michelle.
Foster care has always been a theme I've wanted to explore in a story.
Wow.
I can't think of what else to say.
I don't know why I posted a really vulnerable post on social media. XD
I spawned inside my shop. My eyes wandered over my stuff, checking to make sure it was all still here. I had locked up last time, but you could never be too sure. This wouldn’t be the first time somebody threw a rock at my window and then tried to climb through. And that was despite a ten foot drop on either side.
The forge was out. I grabbed a long metal prong, and treaded over. My booted feet were soft on the cold concrete floor, which was a bit rough, but not quite just glued-together gravel. I poked the embers. There was enough orange left there to forgo breaking out the flamethrower.
My equipment was a mixture of old and new. That’s what the game had done: fused our history with our present. You could be a blacksmith, you could be a marksman, you could be a plumber. Everything was fair game. There wasn’t much call for plumbers, though.
I checked under my menu, looking at my notes. I had only three orders right now, two of them just minor repairs on previous jobs. Then I had my custom weapon, ordered by an oricsh-looking fellow who had said he lost his last blade imbedded in an assassin. I didn’t ask questions. Their business was not my business.
Some people thrived off the blood and bureaucrats in the game, they fed off the intrigue and interplay like leeches. But then there were humble folk like me that were just trying to eke out a living well on the outskirts, making honest money on virtual items that had absolutely no physical manifestation.
I didn’t care what bloc he came from. He had probably told me, trying to recruit a new member, but honestly, I didn’t give a brick about all the factions. They all wanted the same thing, which was power, and I was critically cynical of that regime. I mean, only one guy gets to be on top. I checked the leaderboard briefly, just to see if I had missed anything big in my afternoon absence. Nope. FF’s main man “skulduggery773” was still up there. There had been some fluctuation in the scores, though, so something had gone down. Oh well, it was presumably miles away from my humble abode, and leagues away from actually effecting me.
I was the neutral party in a world that screamed at you to pick a side. Thus I had no friends. Oh well, I didn’t want any. Friends were dangerous. They were a weakness. People could use them against you. And plus they tended to get in scrapes and then start squealing your name.
I flipped my menu back away as the knock rang out on my door. I gave up temporarily on the sputtering flames, and crossed the room. I pulled back the deadbolt, and peeked out of my sophisticated little eyehole.
I opened the door with a grim sigh. “I said next week.”
The orcish fellow was on the stoop, wringing his hands. His username was flashing above his head, blinking “Ojo” whenever I looked at him too closely. His stats were also listed, which weren’t all that bad. He had a lot of XP for such a short survival time. He was probably an assassin himself. Unless, of course, he was a snap, but hey, let’s not jump to conclusions. “I know, I know.” He replied. “I just wanted to, you know…see it.”
This game seems epic! Is it the same game as in the previous book or a new game?
All new. The old game was my biggest problem with BASICS.
-last edited on Feb 7, 2019 4:30:56 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Feb 7, 2019 4:30:48 GMT
“Whatever.” I said, pulling the door further open and disappearing inside. “I’m well ahead of schedule, so you might as well take a peek.”
He quickly hopped inside, shutting the door behind him. He slunk behind me, kind of sidling along. I grabbed the hammer-pick he had requested. It was a duel-sided club, with one end of the head for crushing, the other a spike. In the right hands, it’d be a fearsome weapon indeed. I turned around, bringing it out into the light.
He skittered over for a good look. “Oooh, yes, yes…very nice.”
I nodded. “I’ll have it done for sure by the date agreed on. If it gets done earlier, I’ll contact you.”
His head bobbed up and down. “Good, good. Yes, it looks like you’re almost done.”
“Not even close.” I said. “The detail work isn’t even begun.”
“Detail work?”
“How high tier the weapon depends on the craftsmanship inputted. You requested a five.” I did a quick check. “It’s a two right now.”
“Oh, well…it’s going to be very pretty, isn’t it?” He rubbed his hands together.
I shrugged. “If you think weapons are pretty.” I motioned to the door. “Lock that on your way out. I won’t be emerging.”
He took the hint, and backed away. “Oh, gladly.” He kind of bowed his way out, very carefully closing the door after himself.
With a bit of frustrated sigh, I turned back to the hammer-pick. I grabbed my tool bag, and then headed for the lamp. I’d need my best lighting for this part.
Dang, this feels like a new, edgy feel to the online world we came to know so well in the last book. And that paragraph I bolded. . . that kinda hit home with me. xP
Is it the same game as in the previous book or a new game? 
The old game was my biggest problem with BASICS. 
![[h]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/jtnRIgBPmqPyAueTQkuT.png)