Pop!

The vampire enters entering, appearing as though from thin air.

He finds himself in a grey-and-black box, walls a few dozen feet away in any given direction. Aside from himself, the room is nearly empty, otherwise occupied by only the gangly one, who is currently hunched over and preoccupied with trying to poke a hole through the floor.

As a matter of dumb luck, this pair of consoles have a linked service, which is provided by default to group purchases. It is assumed that such buys are made on behalf of friends or family, and so unless you specifically request the sales team to sever the connection, many functions of such units are shared.

The vampire appreciates the room's general aesthetic. The way the grey lines spiral around the black base-wall is very satisfying, working to provide a sense of depth without "brightening up the room," as it were.

"Doesn't it feel odd?" The gangly one asks, recapturing his attention. Now that he looks, the silly creature has given up on attempting to penetrate the floor, and is instead busy waving his arms around spastically, dancing in place.

Fortunately, his strange compatriot isn't doing this jig for no reason. The game goes out of the way to generate a distinct feeling of being "unreal." As the technology itself developed, a number of hurdles emerged, and derealization was chief among them. When you generate an incredibly realistic scene in cyberspace, it can become hard for the player or their body to sever their understanding of the real world from the virtual one. And so, a suite of features were developed to remind players every so often that they are in fact submerged within a game, and one such feature is the vaguest since of "electricity" running down their body at the present moment. Even the vampire knew that much, and he'd been out of industry forever.

However, for most individuals such a sensation would be too subtle to notice unless it caught their mind entirely off-guard, as it might in times of rest or sufficiently low action. Meanwhile, for the the gangly one and the vampire, the sensation is a great deal more... omnipresent. Not uncomfortable, but very easy to notice, and perhaps a bit distracting. While the system is clearly trying its hardest to accomodate their inhuman forms, it doesn't seem to have any "convenience features" for them, which is honestly a good sign. This would be a very stupid way to get busted.

The vampire chuckles at the gangly one's antics, but decides he has better things to do than dance around himself. He attempts to conjure up a menu of some kind, running through the options with extreme speed and precision: tapping the air, dragging at the air, tapping his face, swiping the temple, swiping the hip...

Quickly, he discerns that the escape prompt is really pulled up by the thought-patterns related with "quitting." There was a small added delay, such that you would have to really focus on the idea for a bit before the big obtrusive menu would appear, but once the trick was discerned it was extremely easy to execute. An elegant solution indeed!

Feeling more secure with his ability to escape the game world, the vampire wanders closer to the gangly one and pokes him. The creature goes stock still, frozen mid arm flap. "What now?"

The gangly one shrugs. "No idea."

The vampire folds his arms. "You were the one who picked out this game thing."

"I just saw some kid playing it, hould should I know?"

"If this game is garbage I'm making you sleep in the garden for a week."

"But I don't sleep?"

"Anyone can sleep with sufficient blows to the head."

"Oh."

"I suppose we just wait, then."

"That sounds boring... Should we call that crew back, you know, to do the walkthrough?"

"Absolutely not. Keeping you from eating the hired help once is hard enough, you sick puppy."

"I was perfectly fine!"

"Mere happenstance."

"I can hold off from eating them for at least a minute or two! Promise."

"No."

"I mean, I don't try and eat you, do I?"

"Yes, but only because you said, and I quote, 'vampire tastes like-"

The vampire's confirmation bias rant is brought to a quick halt by the sudden appearance of a vaguely angelic figure in his peripheral vision. He whips around to face her, and meanwhile the gangly one skitters up a against the wall. Unable to penetrate it, much like he floor, he settles for squatting in the corner.

She(?) is a sculpture of grey plastic and glass, standing at about four feet tall. Her features are, well, she's more or less featureless, though her overall shape is lightly curved in ways that usually imply the figure of a woman.

"Greetings." The figure speaks in an effeminate, robotic tone.

That is to say, deliberately robotic tone. Voice generation passed the point of realism decades ago. If some voice sounded like it came out of a bad millenium flic, it was because the engineers wanted it to.

The sound doesn't come from any genuine orifice, but with their enhanced senses, they could both tell that it originated somewhere near the "head" of the sculpture, which really looks more like a misshapen egg than anything else, to be honest.

"It's safe," the vampire calls, "Nothing went off." That is to say, the entity had not "moved," as that would have triggered his survival senses by demonstrating a greater physical prowess than either creature of the night present could manage. This creature is not beyond realistic bounds of movement, but instead "appeared out of thin air," which seems typical for a game tool.

That difference might not seem important to one unfamiliar with the ecology of the damned, but outside of rare instances of misplaced comraderie, it is these days a world of "every inhuman for themself." Things didn't use to be so bad, but species pushed to the brink, all that jazz. Even if the duo are presently in cyberspace, and this thing is clearly just some sort of digital functionary, it doesn't pay to let down their guard.

The vampire watches the nervous gangly one crawl back towards his original position from out of the corner of his eye, still keeping most of his attention on the strange figure.

"Please name your device accounts. Account names must be: alphanumeric, unique to one unit, though a device may be shared, for non-commercial purposes."

The vampire falls deep in thought. What should his name be? Hmm...

"I eight you arr mom," the gangly one says suddenly, having made it back while the vampire was distracted. The figure beeps an affirmation.

"I can't believe you've done this," the vampire says, gesturing angrily at the robotic figure. "That's not my name, by the by. I would like to use 'osprey thirty three.' With numerals."

After a moment, the figure beeps again.

Glassy screens appear, suspended in thin air. The screens track their fields of view, maintaining a steady distance.

"Confirm Account ID: i8urmom"

Yes

No

"Confirm Account ID: osprey33"

Yes

No

The i8urmom taps "yes," and does it far too quickly on his screen for the vampire to offer any verbal objection. He opens and shuts his mouth impotently, eventually settling on a sigh.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Shortly, thereafter, osprey33 follows suit, accepting his new name. The screens vanish, and the robotic voice says "account IDs confirmed. Processing request..."

"Woo! I was worried it was taken."

"Games haven't had locked names in ages, I don't think. They use unique codes now, attached to the name under the hood."

"Really? That's not how it was on TV."

"Those shows have always been behind the times."

"Wait, then why did you include those extra digits at the end of yours?"

"Well, I haven't played games in ages either, have I? Say, did I ever tell you about that time I went pro?"

"Wait, really?"

"There used to be this game called defense of... Well, we can talk about that another time. I'm surprised this strange AI guessed your new name right on the first go. Maybe there is something decent to this game after all."

As if on que, an error message pops up. Mounted to another floating text box, this time the message is identical for the both of them, and the background took on a distinct red hue.

Physiological abnormality detected that may potentially impede safe software use. Additional information may be required to guarantee future compatibility.

Do you waive HIPAA rights?

Please answer 'yes' or 'no' aloud for the public record.

osprey33 instantly says "no," but then his eyes go wide as he realizes what's about to come next.

Having learned his lesson about "slow verbal warnings" after the past two attempts, he simply launches into action. There is a vicious crack in the air as he dashes straight at i8urmom at full speed.

The other creature is halfway through the syllable "Y-" when he receives a vicious jab to the gut.

"Yyeow," i8urmom finishes, curling up. His claws clack on the impenetrable box bounding. "What's the big idea?"

"You just about fucked us up, hard," osprey33 says. "That box is asking if you want anyone at all to be allowed full access your anatomical profile. Say no. Now."

"Oh, fucking shit fuck, no," i8urmom says. The pop-ups vanish in unison the moment he says the word. "I had no idea that was even possible."

"How would they manage to have a virtualized model of our bodies, without a virtualized model of our bodies? You're seven feet bloody tall, man. That's no John Doe."

"Now that you mention it... Wait, does that mean we have to quit now?"

The vampire sighs. "No. It's safe. Now. Actually, a lot safer than it would be otherwise, since they invoked HIPAA by name."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I thought humans forgot how to do rituals already."

"HIPAA isn't a ritual, it's a set of punitive laws."

The gangly one blinks at him, uncomprehendingly.

"You are sincerely underestimating how seriously humans take this whole 'bodily autonomy' thing. The moment you told them 'no,' it totally eliminated any chance they would ever risk a sneak peek. If anyone finds out, their life is over, not ours."

"I can't believe they'd execute them for that! I thought I was hardcore."

"Not execute, but there are plenty of ways for a human to be dead while their body is still walking. We'd be able to sue them to oblivion on the public dime, probably get a movie deal, and no one would have any right to question why you're seven feet tall and loaded to the brim with sharp pointy bits. These laws are enshrined in the public tradition, by this point. No one even thinks about changing them."

"That's awfully convenient."

"No shit," osprey33 laughs, "who do you think got these laws passed in the first place?"

"Wait! Wait wait wait, so did you guys pay off the lawyers, or was there a cool secret vampire cabal, or what?" i8urmom asks, awestruck.

"There's not much difference. Take it as a lesson in adapting to hard times."

The gangly one is eager ask more questions about supernatural jurisprudence, but a far more complex user interface covers his field of view, which is quite distracting. The robotic voice speaks again.

"Welcome to WORLD OF WORLDS ONLINE unaffiliated acronym: double-you double-you ohh restricted trademark. You will now begin character creation for WORLD OF WORLDS ONLINE. " Whenever the voice says the name of the game itself, the clip is dubbed over with a dramatic stinger from some (human, male) announcer. For reasons unclear.

"In these interfaces, you will find a number of ways to fill out your character's aesthetics and background. While 'Statistics' and 'functionary class,' along with many other important gameplay elements, will be decided after the game has begun, you will presently provide a screen name and adopt the appearance you want to use when initially entering the game."

As the figure speaks, elements of the UI are conveniently highlighted, lighting up ever so slightly. The name box is, well, just a box, but character customization is an unholy network of sliders, drop-down menus, and random numbers that seem to quantify everything from eyelash length to the relative distance between the coracoid process and the clavicle, whatever that meant.

"Your screen name will additionally be used to communicate with non-player characters, and as such, is subject to scrutiny. A screen name approximating a name from 'real life' is highly recommended, but not required. Once in game, screen name is difficult to change."

Now, various elements in the character creator are highlighted. "Ingame appearance is likely change during play, if mainly in the forms of gaining or reshaping muscles, modification of the body due to mana corrosion or deliberate mutation, or simply the removal, replacement, or tailoring of your clothing items. You are allowed to craft a single set of clothes for use at the start of the game. These clothes have no inherent advantage, and are primarily a service to enable dedicated roleplayers to better channel their desired 'setting'."

The robotic voice whirrs, and "caution" appears in red letters across the UI. osprey33 stops tapping around, surprised.

"It is highly advised to create a character that is modestly different from your real-life appearance. Deliberately distancing your character from your real-life appearance may result in transitive neurological impairment, but changing nothing at all increases the likelihood of game world dysphoria and panic."

The "caution" sign vanishes, and osprey33 sets back to work, tapping here and there. "Thank fuck, I thought I was going to be traveling about with 'I ate your mom' for the rest of this godforsaken playthrough."

"It's not too late," i8urmom says. He cups his hand and whispers at the screen, entering his name. The whispering is futile, of course. Vampiric hearing is par none.

"Don't you dare," osprey33 says, laughing. "What else are you changing up?"

"I'm already pretty enough, so probably nothing much. I mean, unless I do a full overhaul, I'm guaranteed to stand out, I think." i8urmom (new name pending) waves his long limbs. "I'm gonna just change around some features, maybe shrink the fangs a little. Not sure yet." He sets to tapping away at his menus, watching in the little mirror how his features change. The creature is so intent on character creation that, until he taps the "confirm" button, he forgets he was mid conversation. "Ah, sorry for the hold-up," he says, "how about you?"

"I'm changing up a few things," osprey33 replies absent-mindedly. i8urmom peeks over just as an offensively oversized rack of the mammaric variety explodes out from his friend's chest. The sudden growth stretches the obviously-not-designed-for-this button down shirt thin he was wearing. Before it can even attempt to pop under the strain, osprey33's formal suit and pants are replaced with a loose-fitting black-and-purple corset and ballgown, which sits awkward on his (otherwise masculine) figure. Even with this much of a change already, still the creature's hands blaze, the precision and speed of a apparent former professional videogame player slash vampire brought out in full force.

Lightning speed turns into lightning-fast transformations. His appearance changes vigorously, form shifting, face moulding, as constant, minute tweaks begin to sell the legitimacy of the look.

With some button or another, osprey33 manages to expand out the mirror into the air, and even more fine-tuning begins... Where once was gaunt but distinctly "man"-y pale man comes an even paler woman, and a buxom one at that. She actually stands a bit taller in stature than he used to, his long legs concealed by the frills of the dress, which still does little to hide her hourglass figure, on account of the corset. With golden eyes and long, golden hair, both darker than the vampire's true color but too shiny to be real, this new fellow looks like he walked straight out of some horrendously unrealistic women's fashion magazine.

"Uh, wow, okay," i8urmom (new name pending) says, "what's going on here?"

osprey33 smiles coquettishly, revealing totally unchanged fangs. Still a vampire, at least. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Dude, you know exactly what I mean."

"Vampires are natural born shape-changers. You knew this."

"Wait, what the fuck? You never actually told me!"

osprey33 taps his chin, mulling it over. "Really? Now that you mention it, I probably thought you'd get me to do celebrity impressions, or something gross."

"Not cool," i8urmom (new name pending) says, "you know the Thing is my favorite classic!"

"Exactly. Anywho, I'm just recreating my favorite take from the sixteenth century. Back in the day, I snagged at least three princes, you know?"

"At least?"

"I can't remember if I ate the fourth, or only go bothered with his mistress."

"I feel like I've been learning an awful lot about you lately."

"Eh, don't take things too seriously. I spend most of my time sticking to being male, usually I don't switch things around unless I've made enough of a stir to rouse up the inquisition, or another vampire shows their veiny hide and ruins the easy pickings."

"Then why the sudden, uh, change of heart?"

"It's just, there were way too many 'dude vampires' in all those movies, you know? It used to be pretty fifty-fifty. Back in the day."

"Duude, you're so wrong. What about that one chick with the black hair?"

"Okay, okay, but that's like, one example, in a genre that has become predictably saturated with overly hot brawny men or pale pretty boys. It my sovereign duty to make vampires hot again."

"Well, you're on a fucking start and a half. I'm amazed you can even walk around, stacked like that."

"A normal woman couldn't even vaguely manage it, not without the appropriate weight to match. She would throw out her back, or at least need surgery every half year or so. Such is the natural unfairness of life, yet again revealed."

"So, uh, what do I call you?"

"Call me?"

"Like, say I point to that offensively busty vampire lady over there, and tell the guy 'blank's my homie,' what goes in the blank?"

"I would go with 'her' while we're ingame. Just so it'll be a touch less confusing. Though, I don't think anyone would much notice 'dude' or the like. I heard that's back in vogue. Now shut up and let me put on the finishing touches."

Round after extensive round of careful, overly nuanced adjustments later, she does one last once-over of her new body. Satisfied, albeit barely, she leans into the screen, whispering her new character name. Just to keep the trend. With that settled, the duo is finally ready to play the game.

"Huh, now that I think about it," i8urmom (new name pending) says, "I feel like we should be playing the game already. Why is this taking us so long?"

"Eh," osprey33 says, "character creation is half the fun in these things. Gotta say though, real life has a better user interace."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Well, when you think ab-"

The pointless aside ends abruptly as the strange statue beeps one last time, affirming that character creation is (finally) complete.

With that, both creatures vanish, cast off to the forbidden lands of "actual gameplay" and "real progression," thought what either of those phrases means is quite nebulous at the moment, on account of the fact that neither player has the slightest clue what the setting is, what's in the feature-set, or even what genre the game happens to fall under.

What fun that is! Everybody loves a surprise, right?