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6. Invariably Forsaken

6. Invariably Forsaken

     The conversation with my brother went something like this:

  Me: "Yo bro, whadup?"

  Randy:"Nuddin' much. 'sup wit'chu turd burglar?"

  Me:"Oh you know, same shit different day."

  ...We both laugh at the terrible exchange.

  Me:"Ey' so you remember Lankey right?"

  Randy:"No, who da fuck is that 'spose ta be?"

  Me:"Skinny skater kid you gave a 'shake' 2 days ago"

  Randy:"Oh. Haha, nah... dat's String bean.Why wha's up?"

  Me:"You remember he said he sold his MMO account for a few bucks and a beta test invite, right?"

  Randy:".............."

  Me:"You remember how he said some nerdy shit, I was interested in... right?"

  Randy:"Oh yeah. Why, What's good? You straight?"

  Me:"Yeah, I'm good. Actually I'm better than good, bro. Now I'm makin' cash money for playing super-dope video games."

  Randy:"Yo, for real, that sounds dope as a ma' fucker. Yo whassup how I make paper, playin games 'n shit? Hook ya brother up fathead."

  Me:"Well the thing is, Uncle Sam, or someone just as powerful is heavily invested in this company, ...or at least the tech they are testing. It seems kinda risky, but we can roll under the table with those fake I.D.'s we got from Mario. And they pay cash, all shady-like. The tech is no joke either man. Its experimental, and dangerous Im not gonna lie. I figured if You want in, I could use you watchin' my back ya' know?"

  Randy:"Yo, sounds shady as fuck. ... Fuck it I'm tellin' the old lady I'm goin' to a job interview wit'chu tomorrow mornin', Peace." He hung up the phone.

  The next morning, I met my brother outside of the small tax office-like building Ms Raven referred to as 'the outpost.' I was carrying a cardboard tray of unopened Stu-bucks coffee's.

  "Yo, this place looks shady as fuck!" My brother exclaimed. "They, got some nice 'trim' walking in and out 'tho."

  "Oh, yeah. They have an abundance of pretty girls for a secret 'literally underground' project. The guy doing the hiring around here must be a perv or something." I joked.

  As we walked in, my brother's eyes washed over the whole room, taking in every detail. The expression on his face displayed his wariness.

  "Good morning, Ms Nylons. I brought you ladies a round of coffee's. This strapping young lad who's being very obvious about staring everyone down, is the candidate I informed Ms Raven about." I said with a warm smile, "I do hope you guys have fixed that mosquito problem."

  "All taken care of, please have a seat Mr. Jenkins. We will be right with you." Ms Nylons spoke in a charming demeanor.

  The look of wariness on my brother's face, now incorporated confusion as well. I gave him a reassuring nod, and motioned to the chairs that were at the staging point of yesterdays adventure. I sat down, fully alert with my guard on high. Ms Nylons had given me assurance that we would maintain consciousness, but you know what they say. Fool me twice shame on me, right. Before long a man in a black suit exited one of the two small offices, in the back of the room, and made his way toward us. My brother tensed up the moment he laid eyes on the nonsubtlely dressed agent.

  "G'mornin agent J. Where is agent K? Off preventing an alien encounter of the sixth kind?" I asked sarcastically.

  Agent Obvious, handed my brother and I each, a small briefcase. He motioned for us to open them. Once opened the miniature cases revealed instruments to cover our eyes and ears. I had experienced this last night, Ms Raven called it the Exit Protocol. The sensory deprivation they induce can not be understated, It is both frightening and exhilarating. A complete lack of sight and sound. Ms Nylons had moved to the door and locked it so no one could walk in.

  "Nah, fuck this I'm out!" Randy proclaimed intensely.

  "Chill,man. I know its a bit dramatic, but its straight. I did this yesterday by myself and I'm all good. I wouldn't bring you here if I wasn't sure and you know I got your back." I lied remorsefully.

  The truth is I wasn't sure. I was still very much cautious of this situation. All I knew was if things went south, I wouldn't be able to handle it by myself. So what I was asking of my brother was truly selfish, and even worse I had lied to him to get his consent. Randy and I had grown up in a terrible situation that children should never have to be in. The only way we survived was to trust each other and look out for one another. Even though I had just broken that trust, I had every intention of keeping us safe through this experience. Randy began pacing back and forth anxiously. Debating on removing us from this office and scolding me for doing this alone yesterday, or following me into the unknown to protect me. He knew me well enough to assume I would still do this without him, so not hiding his frustration about his lack of good options, he reluctantly agreed to follow.

  "Fine, I'll put this bullshit on. I'm putting my left hand on your shoulder Bruno. If anyone touches me my right hand will break their face." He warned. "Besides I gotta see you try to fit these things on that fat head of yours."

  "Word." I said feeling relieved, "Now all that's left to do is make money for playing awesome games."

  We put on the sensory deprivation gear, and yes it fit on my fat head. Randy put his left hand on my shoulder, just as he had warned everyone, and trusted me to lead him to whatever was in store for us.

                   -----

  Once Randy and I arrived at the underground lab, His induction was very similar to my own... after the whole hostage trifle, that is. Standard up until the point Major Raven Leibowitz USAF, explained the risks involved.

  "They explained all 'dis to you, and your stupid ass still signed up?! Oh man, your nerd shit is gonna get me killed." Randy griped.

  "Dude I've heard worse side effects on G-ma's medications. Put on your big boy panties, and sign the NDA so I can fill you in on why this is worth it." I ordered.

  "Fuck you Fathead. You're lucky the economy is all fucked up, and good jobs is hard to find. 'Else i'da whooped yo ass at that shady office for gettin' us in dis mess." He growled.

  "... technically you shaking down the lanky kid, lead to the events that started this, but its ok I forgive you." I said, struggling to keep a straight face.

  "You fat headed sum' bitch..." Randy barked, a vein started to show on his forehead. "I should bea-"

  "Gentlemen, I don't care about your ... what ever this is, enough to involve myself, but we do have a schedule to keep. So if you would.." She handed Randy a similar NDA to the one I signed.

  He flipped through the Non Disclosure Agreement, and stared at me angrily enough, I thought for an instant I might set ablaze were I stood. Now comes the part I was dreading. Randy's Equip. Remembering the experience sent a chill down my augmented spine. I had taken Ms Raven aside earlier and asked her if I could handle the situation. I talked my brother into a 'massage' by telling him it was just one of the many perks that came with this job. I thought of this more like what parents call a 'white lie.' Although my brother had multiple tattoos, He truly despised needles. I planned to take the inevitable punch in the face, that I was sure awaited at the end of this procedure, and ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

                   -----

  Even though I was expecting the punch, It still hurt like hell. The sheer impact of it knocked me off balance and I staggered into a nearby table, upending it on my way down. Blood poured from my now torn open upper lip, as I reached for the handkerchief I had prepared in advance and applied pressure to my face.

  "I beserved vat" I garbled through blood and 'kerchief, "Cnn I ged dis sh-tiched ub, or you gohnha frow anudder?"

  "Get em in here to stitch you up you fat fuck, I don't care If we are brothers, you ever do sumthin' like 'dis again... I'll fuckin' bury you next to Pops. You hear me?!" Randy threatened, through gritted teeth.

  He hesitated at the last part, but I know he meant every word.

  I asked Dr. Vock to standby outside. Close enough to help right away, but out of any danger. She came in with a medical kit, and immediately set to work treating the wound. She wasn't pleased with my method of handling this situation, but I could sense the pity in her eyes. She must not know how brothers operate, we'll have a drink (several) after this and put it behind us. (Insult each other until we forget it)

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Thanks for the benignity, Doc." I said through less swollen lips, than before. "I appreciate it."

"Will you still appreciate it when you get my bill?" She laughed.

"Probably a little less so, but yes." I chuckled.

  Dr Vock was a curvy woman, curves in all the right places... a few in the "wrong" (Aint wrong to me) places. She was about 5 and a half feet tall, expensive flat heel boots were donned by dainty feet under toned, but not overly defined, calves. Her thick thighs could literally save lives (nice) and her hips were wide enough, that her long white lab coat could not hide their allure. Under the lab coat she wore a stylish cardigan sweater, and designer jeans. Her sweater was held out by a moderate bust, below a soft and supple pair of round shoulders. Her face was stunningly beautiful. Full lips, cute nose and smooth skin models would probably kill for. But those features were still not quite comparable to her deep dark eyes that were contradictorily radiant under the fluorescent lights. Her hair was a lovely mocha-chocolate color, with caramel highlights and flowed down her back straddling a plump and shapely behind.

  "You cant tell but I'm smiling under the ice pack." I informed Dr. Vock.

  "I'm the one who stitched you up, So I know how much that must hurt. So what, pray-tell are you smiling about?" She demanded.

  "Because you came to my rescue, Dr Vock. You're my lady hero!"

I declared, with the mistake intentional.

  "You mean heroine?" She corrected.

  "No thanks, Doc. I don't do drugs." I chuckled.

  She probably didn't know my poor humor was hiding true gratitude. In my experience women don't come to the rescue, women leave you to die. My own mother left when a was just over a year old. I don't like it, but I don't hate her for it either. I'm well aware the type of 'man' my father was. What hurts the most is she didn't try to reconnect when things were different, when I was older and able to keep her safe. (Not even after...) The moral of the story is, the guys she was dating were higher priority. So now she's just some stranger, I'm indifferent to her existence. The girl who saved me in the crack house were I was 'raised', (I think her name was Sandy or Sandra maybe?) I imagine the circumstances were different (at least I've always hoped they were) but the end result was always the same. I am invariably forsaken.

                   -----

  "Well, fuck that was significantly less painful than last time!" I exclaimed in relief, "Good deal, I was over budget in my pain allotment for today." I joked, half heartedly.

  "Oh I'm glad," The tech said in a mousy hushed voice, "The new Test Engineer grabbed me by my shirt collar, and I thought he was going to hit me!"

  He gestured to the scifi pod across the shiny metal room, that I'm sure was occupied by Randy.

  "Hey don't take it personally buddy, he's had a very rough day." I consoled him, as the scifi pod whirred to life.

  I laid back in the extremely comfortable pod, complete with lumbar support and ultra soft padding that formed to my shape. The seating portion was only slotted for the cables to pass through. The lid closed and sealed shut. I heard oxygen begin to blow in, and pressure being applied to the gel dispenser. I was already an avatar when the gel enveloped my back half and stopped, leaving me only half submerged.

                   -----

  I found myself in my dragonkin body. In front of me was a very rude dwarf, cursing at a furious... I don't know what she is, but if forced to describe her I'd say a dark elf with vampire features.

  "I know how to use the equipment. Your the noob here, not me." Smirked the dark elf.

  "Ya' sure. Your positive? 'Cause I did the thumb print. I chose my race and all dat. Still aint no tiny bitch popped out dis fancy palm pilot." Barked the dwarf.

  I recognized the voice, instantly. The dwarf speaking through a mountain man beard was Randy. His avatar was just under 4 foot tall, stocky and muscular. His shoulder length hair was platinum blonde with accents of grey that made his appearance look somewhat old and wise. His ruggedly handsome face was enriched with a very large beard he could tuck into his belt, if he was so inclined. Looking in his eyes, and seeing his facial bone structure, I concluded that we do keep a vague resemblance of our real world selves. His debate opponent was around 5 foot 10 inches tall and thin enough to look fragile. She wore what looked to be dark leather moccasins with matching leggings covering her delicate and narrow thighs and toned ample rear end. The leather had a snake skin pattern so at a glance they could pass for scales. Covering her modest bosom and lean sculpted stomach was a sleeveless vest made out of the same dark faux snake leather as her lower half, but was lined in fine silk of a silver color. Her vest had a thick construction to be durable and add a moderate amount of vital protection. She had a necklace made of what I assume are monster fangs. Her face was very cute with excellent bone structure. She had dark red eyes that reflected the light as if they were precious rubies. Her face was framed with thick braids of luxurious silver hair. Her outfit was very tribal, and looked very form fitting wrapped around her coal black skin. Between her braids I noticed long blade-like ears pressed back against her head, like an angry cat ready to strike.

  "Mind If I lend a hand?" I smiled and flourished my right hand, while perching my left arm behind my back in a partial bow, "Dull minds require patient teachers."

  Randy the dwarf, looked me up and down and said. "Is that you, fat head?!"

  "Yeah. It's me, mini bro. Not that its a bad choice or anything, but I'm curious... why did you pick dwarf as your race?" I requested.

  "Isn't that obvious? ...Because of the magnificent Beard!" He boasted.

  "What ever makes you happy, man. It is a magnificent beard tho."

I affirmed. "So what class did you go with?"

  "Yo. It said white mage, I figured it knew what it was doing. So I clicked confirm, bro." He chuckled and held up his P.A.C.

  The screen read:

        Name: Randy Jenkins

  Race: Dwarf Class: White Mage.

  Age:25 Height 3ft 11in Weight 158lbs.

  Stealth:8, Strength:5, Agility:9, Speed:6, Charisma:5, Mercantile:5

Vitality:7, Endurance:8, Intelligence:7. Wisdom:6

  Skills: Hearty constitution (racial/passive) Minor heal (magic/active) (novice)

  Active effects: +5% crafting quality (racial) +5% magic resist (racial)

     Armor base: 00 Damage base: 00

  "Your a dwarven.... healer" I said in a hesitant and confused tone, "Dwarves have low magical affinity."

  "They do? ...Well I wanted to be an archer!" He griped.

  "Then you should of switched to Sniper class before you hit confirm. I think your locked in now." I admonished.

  "...Ms Tribal vest, Can my small minded friend here change his class after confirming it?" I asked the dark elf, who seemed to be lost in studying my avatar.

  "Huh?! Oh, I've heard there is a way around level 20. But it supposedly costs a fortune." She muttered.

  "Really Fathead. Short jokes?" Randy interjected.

  "Sorry to stoop so low, but I couldn't really find anything to pick on in the real world. I'll get it out of my system in a little while." I chuckled.

                   -----

  Meanwhile Back in the real world:

  A very important disk was being carried by a moron. His name is George. George's father was an important scientist. George's father was a wealthy man. George's father had some connections and more than a little influence. But despite all that George was still a moron. So when the poster child for nepotism placed the disk on a shelf, and prepared a cup of coffee... He forgot to pick it back up after he finished and resumed his important task.