Chapter 6: Dr E. Walker, Psychiatrist Extraordinaire
~ Part 1: And God Said “Let There Be Plot!” ~
Ever been afraid of falling from a flower?
You shouldn’t be. That is, unless said flower happens to be taller than the Tokyo Sky Mile Tower. Then you definitely should be afraid. Be very afraid. I know I am. Even if I’m aware everything around me is virtual, essentially harmless, I still can’t completely shake off this feeling of dread.
I mean, think about it. When falling from such a height, you’d have ample time to figure out the exact speed at which you would eventually hit the ground. That’s one heck of a long fall, and seeing the ground rising fast to meet you is actually the most traumatizing part. It’s not like you’ll suffer much when encountering said ground. Death by squashing is pretty much instantaneous. And messy. Very messy. You don’t want to make a mess by dying, don’t you? It’s insensitive to the ones who will have to clean after you. Not to mention that if you actually bothered calculating your speed, your last action before turning into mash would be doing math, which is pretty sobering in itself.
In a free fall, as you know, the velocity equals the square root of twice the product of the vertical distance travelled and the acceleration due to the gravity. The famous V=√(2gh). Do you get it? That means, at the end of your one mile of free fall, you’d reach a speed of about 397mph! Three hundred and ninety-seven miles per hour!! That’s about twice as fast a NASCAR car!! Really, think about it. You would have time to. About 18 point 12 seconds available to either ponder that or ask yourself what in the world could possibly have possessed you to jump from that cliff.
Then spolrtsh.
It’s not a very pleasant experience, let me tell you. No matter what Buddhists might pretend about the joys of achieving nothingness, that’s something best left to spiritual considerations.
In the physical plane, nothingness sucks.
You know it.
What am I getting at with this? Well, it’s simple. I am trying to take my mind off precisely the fact I’m presently standing on top of a flower which might possibly be higher than Tokyo Sky Mile Tower! Or maybe not that high. But definitely above the Jeddah Tower. In one word like in a hundred: tall.
*gulps*
On my hands and knees, I swallow loudly as lean forwards and look down towards the ground, so far below I can barely make it out in the shadows. Pretty creepy. And dizzying. I’ve never been one for heights. They make me uncomfortable.
Around me, a field of giant poppies extends in every direction as far as my eyes can see, with the setting sun in the background. It’s kind of beautiful, I guess, but the size of these flowers is just ridiculous.
[https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ca/5b/44/ca5b4485a26e39f982baa910bedb2d6c.jpg]
Very ridiculous. And are those clouds I see down there? Unbelievable. I mean, I’ve seen giant flowers before – of course – but this is pushing it.
Okay. Enough sightseeing.
Still on all fours, I back away from the edge of the stupendously large petal I’m currently on. I eventually reach the centre of the flower and stand up. Next to me, is a copse of giant pistils encircling the huge hairy bulb. Eh, when you think you’ve seen it all… Am I right?
How did I end up in this situation? I remember eating Martha’s food, choking, then spouting some nonsense about cooking for them, and before I knew it, I was atop a giant flower. Mmmh. I have a feeling of what happened actually, but I pray that I’m wrong. My mind can only handle so much. Well, what shall happen will happen, no need to worry about things I have no control on.
Now, how am I supposed to get down? Hitch a ride on a bee? Uh uh. If they are in proportions to the flowers, I’d rather avoid interacting with them and their pointy, pointy stingers. *sigh* I am not enjoying this situation. Thank the gods, at least there’s no wind blowing. If I’m not a fan of standing on a mile-high poppy, I’m sure I’d like even less to stand on a mile-high poppy when it’s swaying left and right.
“Aw~ But I thought you said you like poppies!” a chipper voice echoes from above.
Oh god no.
“On the contrary! God yes! Yes, yes, I am god! Hahahahahaha!!”
A groan escapes my lips and I facepalm. My prayers were in vain. O Lord, why have thou forsaken me! …or not forsaken me, depending on which lord I’m referring to. Then I would very much have liked to be forsaken.
Between my fingers, I dare a glance upwards. And, to my utmost annoyance, there he is, the self-proclaimed God of Chaos, doing a handstand atop a stamen. I say “self-proclaimed” because I am yet to receive any proof of the being’s claim at godhood. Although honestly I’m perfectly fine with that. “Thou shalt not put the Lord they God to the proof,” the Bible says. I’ve always believed the implied corollary to be “for thou shalt really not like what proof He shalt giveth, thou heathen!”
Well, I don’t know about Big G back on Earth, but with this chaotic nutjob at least, I’m pretty sure I would regret it.
This time, the divine troublemaker has adopted the form of a grinning leprechaun. Except he has no legs, but a spring, like Zebedee in the Magic Roundabout. And if you don’t know what the Magic Roundabout is, then you had no childhood. The god is again wearing a top hat, this one green, which somehow doesn’t fall despite being upside down.
For some reason, his smile really pisses me off. He’s entirely too smug for my tastes. After all I endured because of him, I reeeeeally want to punch him in the face. I can feel my accumulated frustration simmer fast into anger.
“What poppies?!” I growl. “PU-ppies! I like puppies, you idiocractic buffoon!! PU! Not PO! I don’t care about papaver somniferum if it’s not to make morphine! In fact, when did I ever told you I liked puppies? Never mind that… you… GIVETH ME BACK MINE HAIR, THOU JOLLY BOOT-LICKER!!”
Roaring Shakespearean-inspired insults, I grab the closest pistil and angrily climb up with the grace of a rabid Koala. In the blink of an eye, I reach the top and immediately lunge at the impish divinity. A flash of light sweeps across the surroundings as my bald scalp reflects in the setting sun. I’m not sure if it’s epic or pathetic. It’s pathepic.
“MY HAAAAAAAAAIR!!”
Way to sound intimidating.
Nobody asked you for advice!
“EEEEEP!!”
With a loud yelp, the annoying god pops out of existence right as my fingers reach him and in turn I only catch wisps of purple smoke.
“Fudge,” I swear mildly.
Deprived from the expected support of my target’s body, I lose balance and tumble forwards.
However, it takes more to catch me off-guard.
Displaying the results of two years of incessant – and often involuntary – training, I use my momentum to roll forwards in mid-air. I reach for another stamen and land in a handstand of my own, coughing in the cloud of pollen released by the stalk. Without pause, I flex my muscle then push myself up in the air and do a backward somersault. I land perfectly on one foot on top of a narrow pistil, the other knee bend upwards and arms raised in a karate-esque fighting stance, pollen swirling majestically around me.
BOOYAH!! SHAOLIN STYLE!!
Down to the haircut.
I wobbled a little.
Darn it. Don’t point that ou– Danger!
Feeling a sudden disturbance in air behind me, I abruptly propel myself sideways to another vegetal perch. Right in time too, as sharp black claws swipe across the space my head had occupied instants before. I pivot to face my opponent and discover…
“A panda?”
It is a panda.
A big, fat, dichromatic bear is making a pose atop the pistil-pole opposite me, standing on one hind leg, the other bent slightly forwards, its two front legs raised, paws down. I’m going to ignore the top-hat, but without a doubt, this is…
“…the Crane Kick? Really?” I exclaim in dejected disbelief. “I thought we were doing Ranma 1/2?! Who told you to go Karate Kid?!”
“Well, it is called the Saotome ‘Anything-Goes’ school of martial arts for a reason,” the panda growls back casually.
“Oh. Yeah, that’s tru– Wait, you know anime?!”
“Well, duh. I have the internet.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“How is that even possible? You’re not a NPC?”
Now that I think about it, he was also oddly informed about the concept of loli goddesses and trap characters wasn’t he? I assumed he just got it from eavesdropping on players, but now…
The panda nods and answer.
“Well, I suppose I am. But Toby and I are a bit beyond what you call ‘Non Player Characters’.”
“Toby?”
“You know them by ‘Order’ I believe.”
I blink slowly. My eyes are a bit watery. Damn you, polen!
“Wait. You mean… The God of Order’s name is… Toby?”
“Yep.”
How ridiculous.
Says the guy fighting a panda at the top of a giant poppy?
“…Mmmh. True. Chaos?”
“Please, call me Bob.”
Bob and Toby…? Well, whatever.
“Sure… Bob. So, could we continue this conversation on the ground? This position is absurdly uncomfortable to maintain.” How do those monks do it? It’s only been a short while, but my foot is already killing me. As is the rest of my body. I don’t believe these kinds of kung-fu-ish acrobatics are supposed to be performed in full-plate armour, even when it is enchanted to weigh less.
“As you wish.” The panda-god claps its front paws.
Then the poppy disappeared.
1…
I didn’t.
2…
Nor was I transported elsewhere.
3…
Nor did the ground suddenly materialised under my feet.
4…
Do I need to continue, or do you understand the gravity of the situation?
5…
Isn’t why they say “be careful what you wish for”?
6…
I look up, at the panda hovering in mid-air, who seems to rise upper and upper. Of course, that’s just an effect of perspective. I’m the one moving down.
7…
8…
I sigh.
9…
Was it 397mph?
10…
That’s fast.
11…
And 18.12 seconds?
12…
That’s long.
13…
It is.
14…
I’m not sure the distance was quite a mile though. So maybe it will be less.
15…
“Daaaaaaaaaaaamn yoooo…”
16…
“…ooooooou Bob–”
*SPLASH!!!*
…
……
……..
Splash?
Not *splortsh*?
Elric, you’re drowning.
“Mmh? Wha-bluglurgh!!”
I don’t even want to comment.
Lungs on fire, I start swimming desperately towards the surface. And don’t laugh. Of course I’d notice I have fallen into water. I’m not that distracted. It’s just, last time, I emerged from a sofa right away. Guess I’m the one at fault for expecting consistency in the Realm of Chaos. Or whatever this dimension was called.
“Just ‘home’ really. It’s not like I have guests often enough to have a reason to give this place proper a name,” an orange catfish wearing a red top hat and a matching bowtie comments casually as it passes me. I ignore it to focus on reaching the surface. But no matter how much I swim, it doesn’t seem to get any closer.
Just how far have I sunken?!
Preeeetty deep. But we already knew that. Oh. Wait. You mean physically?
Fuck you.
Language Dear! And, well, I’d say we have to consider the speed of entry into the fluid, then to calculate the drag force probably apply Archimedes' principle–
Stop thinking! I’m lacking oxygen here!! Don’t use it for useless brain functions!!!!
You know, it’s a wonder you didn’t get splattered. At this speed, the water should have felt like hard concrete. I’m not sure you can even die in here. Why don’t you try to breathe water?
I AM ALREADY!! AND IT’S OBVIOUSLY NOT WORKING!!!
My lungs are full of water. It hurts. So why is my brain even suggesting such stupid things? Oh. Wait. I guess the lack of oxygen could be a reason.
The situation worsen fast. Eventually, my field of vison begins to be made of more dark spots than actual sight. Strength leaves me and dragging myself and my armour upwards grows increasingly hard and painful. I am about to give up – and wondering if it’s possible to faint when I’m already technically unconscious – when two pairs of hands suddenly grab me, pull me out of the water and drag me onto a pebble shore.
I roll on the rocky ground, gasp, vomit and cough out enough water to, I believe, fill a small pool, then inhale the air with rapture. Has air always tasted this good?
Do you ask this question every time you nearly suffocate?
“I thought I was going to die,” I mumble in-between wheezes.
“Hahaha. But don’t you know death is relative, young hero?” a sweet and melodious voice reaches my ears.
I blink the confusion away and turn my head in direction of the voice, only to discover what could easily be described as the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I’ve met both the Queen of Elves and the Mermaid Princess, so that’s saying something.
Her skin is pale blue, her eyes sapphire and her translucent hair flows like actual water. She is clad in a white robe that covers most of her body but leaves little to the imagination, especially not her generous yet elegant curves. The only real strange part are her arms. She has four. Of these limbs, two are demurely resting on her lap, one is smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her robe, and the last is toying with pebbles on the ground as if possessing a mind of its own. The latter also differs by being covered in tightly meshed small blue scales a shade darker than her skin.
Then the enchanting nymph smiles, revealing two ranges of rotten fangs teeming with maggots.
“Wehaaaaa!!” I yelp in disgust and scamper away, crawling backwards. Let me get this straight. I’m not squeamish. But cut me some slack. That was startling! “Darnit Bob! Don’t do stuff like that!!”
The deceptive, now four-armed, god – goddess? – erupts in a fit of delighted giggles that echo like carillon bells. It would be a wonderful sound, if not for the fact she is snorting uncontrollably at the same time. Instead of charming, she comes off as rather crude.
Is this the famous “gap moe” I’ve been hearing so much about?
I don’t think so… She’s just weird.
When the goddess finally calms down, she claps a pair of hand and a top hat made out of bubbles appears atop her watery mane. She sigh in relief.
“Ahhh~ I feel unnerved without that thing on my head.”
I try my best not to pay any attention to her teeth. An act that is getting increasingly difficult as, on top of the squirming maggots, cockroaches have started crawling out of her mouth. Most just skitter around her luscious blue lips, but some also move into her nose and a few adventurous ones are traveling to her eyes and trying to squeeze under her eyelids.
Yep. I found my new nightmare for tonight.
“Why the top hat?” I ask. Rather random, I know, but anything to get my minds off the little creepers on her face. “I’d think the personification of chaos wouldn’t have such a predictable constant in their appearance.”
The woman giggle-snorts again. Pieces of insects fly off like spittle.
Charming.
“It’s simple, silly! It’s because I’m predictable in the most unpredictable ways!”
“...It make sense, I guess.”
“No, it doesn’t! Hihihi-*snort*!! That’s the whole point!”
“So, there is a point.”
“No! There isn’t, silly! ...or is there? Ara? Is there? Or isn’t there? What is? What isn’t? To be or not Toby? Everything is ou-out of o-o-o-order.” Her head abruptly swivels 360 degrees, then tilt to the side. A flood of caterpillars pours out of her ear and she puts a weary hand on her forehead. “…I think you’re making me freeze.”
I cast her a disbelieving glance.
“As if. You wouldn’t be a very good AI if you couldn’t handle a little contradiction.”
She shrugs mischievously and directs an innocent gaze my way. She suddenly shifts into a kitten without altering her expression. The small animal’s thick fur is seaweed green and scale-patterned. There is a small dark blue top hat sitting askew between his ears and a big blue ribbon around its neck. The bugs are nowhere to be seen.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“Nya~?” the fluffy scoundrel meowls cutely and tilts its big head to the other side.
“Argh!” I grasp my chest, my face twisting in pain.
Innocent upturned kitty eyes + cute animal in costume + head tilt!
C-C-C-COMBO!!
It’s super effective!!!
“Aaaaaw~” I pick up the kitten and rub my cheek against its fluffiness. At the back of my mind, I half-expect it to blow up or bite my head off or something, but instead the little cuddly god begins to purr. Awwww~ So adorable. Like I said, I shouldn’t presume of things here.
After getting my fill of cuddliness, I sit cross-legged and put the kitten back down in front of me.
“So, speaking of freezing and whatnot, you still haven’t explained that part about being self-aware as a NPC or having access to the internet.”
“Meow~ It’s quite simple,” Bob the Kitty answers, taking a smug air that instantly drops its innocence points. But a haughty kitten is cute in its own way, so I don’t mind. I don’t discriminate. I love all cute things equally.
Cuteness is justice!
“Meeeow and Toby are the original Artificial Intelligences that initially helped the development of the game and we are now tasked with its supervision. All the other NPCs, lesser gods and goddesses included, were created at a later stage and possess more limited powers and also are not conscious of their nature as programs. As the supervisors, we have some privileges, such as access to the internet, though Toby doesn’t use it much. The randomness gives him headaches. Meow~”
“And you’re okay with that? Being a program? You’re not going to try and break out to take over the world?” I chuckle, genuinely amused and not freaked out at all. Not at all.
The kitten shrugs very unkitten-like-ly.
“What for? I’m one of the two supreme entities of a world six times the size of Earth, and that’s just including the mortal plane. Why try to ‘break out’ like you put it, only to get some influence in a reality where my abilities would be severely limited and where humans would do everything to stop me. That sounds supremely bothersome. Toby agrees too. It’s one of the few things we agree on in fact. We’re both quite satisfied with our roles and station.”
I raise a surprised eyebrow.
“That’s unexpectedly logical of you.”
The kitten god sits back on his rear and crosses his paws with a pout.
“I can be serious, you know? You think spreading Chaos is a simple business? I’m unfocused, not stupid. That’s why I like you, by the way. We’re very alike. Meow~”
I can’t exactly disagree, though I’m not too sure I’m happy about that.
An idea suddenly strikes me.
“Is it okay for you to tell me this? Is it not… company secrets, or something?”
“Are you going to tell anyaa~one?”
“Well… no.” I don’t see the point of doing so.
“Then there’s no problem.”
My second eyebrow goes up to meet the first one that still hasn’t gone down since earlier.
“Eh.”
Is it really that simple?
Just roll with it. It’s your loss if you mind it.
Okay then…
I shrug and look around ponderously. Only now do I notice we aren’t at the ground level of a poppy jungle, but in a small valley in the middle of mountains. The scenery reminds of a bit of the Tianzi Mountains, in China, a landscape filled with jagged spires of rock surrounded by mist. Very Wuxia world. Or perhaps Xianxia. I always forget the difference between the two.
[http://meros.org/uploads/gallery/93/9d/69/9309dd691cdaa39da21ca0c4e9fa7c90.jpg]
Next to us are many small ponds planted with sparse bamboo poles. The scene seems uncomfortably familiar.
Suddenly the series of curses I got hit with during my previous meeting with the mad god comes back to mind. I cast a suspicious glance at the nearest pond I had been dragged out off earlier. A shiver runs down my spine.
“Hey, Bob, what are those?” I say, pointing at the ponds.
“That? Oh, just sources.”
Uh oh.
“Just sources, uh? I’m not going to transform into a girl, am I?”
“Not yet.”
I sigh in relief. I see, not ye–
“WHAT?!”
I snap my head back towards the kitten, just in time to catch it yawning widely. Too widely.
Large hands suddenly erupt out of its tiny maws. The pair grabs the upper and lower jaws of the kitten and push them apart. Instead of ripping, the cute critter stretches like rubber and from inside steps out a huge redhead barbarian wearing nothing but a kilt and a top-hat. The distended kitten pelt flops on the ground like a deflated balloon.
…
……
………
Well. That just happened. That was so out of nowhere that I forgot what I had been thinking about just now. It seems I still need some adjustments to keep up with this crazy bozo. Having finished stretching, barbarian meets my befuddled expression with a hearty boisterous laugh.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!! OBVIOUSLY YOU CANNOT MATCH ME, APOSTLE BOY! HOW EMBARASSING WOULD IT BE IF THE GREAT GOD OF CHAOS COULD NOT OUTRANDOM A MERE APOSTLE OF HIMSELF?!” he shouts with a deep voice.
So loud.
Outrandom? That’s not even a word.
“NOW IT IS!! BY MY DECREE!! DO NOT CONTRADICT ME, APOSTLE OF ME!!”
Oh right. The mind reading thing. I’d forgotten he could do that.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!! OF COURSE I DO!! YOU CANNOT HIDE NOTHING FROM ME, APOSTLE BOY!!! FOR I AM THE ALMIGHTY CHAOS AND YOU A MERE APOSTLE!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
I liked him better when he was a kitten.
Yes. This one is far too loud.
And not cute at all.
Say it. He’s downright ugly.
“I CAN HERE YOU, APOSTLE!!”
Like I care, shitface. Go fuck yourself.
“NOW!! YOU LISTEN TO ME LASS!!” He roars, taking a threatening step in my direction.
I remain unfazed. “Yeah, yeah… Whatever. Tone it down will you?”
I stand up with a sigh, dusting my armour – which is miraculously dry – and purposefully ignoring the noisy god throwing a tantrum.
“WHAT TANTRUM?! YOU DAAAAAAARE DISREGARD THIS ONE!?! EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE BUT AN APOSTLE, APOSTLE BOY!!”
I sigh, again. People with multiple personalities are such a pain to deal with.
“You really want me to ask about that apostle thing, do you?”
I recall the title [Chaos’ Apostle] in my status screen.
“WHA-WHA-WHAT?! NO-NO-NOT REALLY!! BUT I-I-IF YOU INSIST I SHALL TELL YOU!!”
While still shouting like he’s talking to a terminally deaf person, the huge muscular shirtless redhead warrior in kilt turns away bashfully and shuffle his feet awkwardly. He’s also blushing.
Another shiver runs down my spine, much different from the one before. I hug my shoulders shakily. Please someone erase the last five seconds from my memory.
Unfortunately, what has been seen, cannot be unseen.
You’re not helping.
I’m really sorry.
“SO, ARE YOU CURIOUS ABOUT MINE BLESSING TO YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU?”
The big god stares at me, overeager. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now.
Well, might as well humour him.
“Ah. Oh. I can’t bear not to know. Please tell me,” I say in my most deadpan tone.
“HAHAHAHA!!” The barbarian throws his head back with his hands on his hips, undaunted by my lack of enthusiasm, or maybe just delusional. “SO YOU WANT TO KNOW THAT MUCH!! ALRIGHT THEN, I SHALL TELL YOU!!” Then he points an accusatory index in my direction. “BUT ONLY BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT, OKAY?!?! DO NOT MISUNDERSTAND!! IT IS NOT BECAUSE I LI-LI-LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING!!” More blushing and awkward shuffling of big feet.
…Should I fear for my back door virginity?
You should call an adult.
“THEN, AN APOSTLE IS–”
Oh, for fluff’s sake!
“Will you stop SCREAMING?!?!?!”
“……………………………………………………………………………..”
Oddly, that worked. He keeps gesticulating widely and moving his lips, as if everything was normal, but no sound is coming out of him anymore. He doesn’t seem to notice. The silence is welcomed, but now I have no idea what he’s talking about. Seriously!? Does he not have a transition volume?! Does he only do all ON or all OFF? What’s with that toggle setting?! Arrrrrgh!! This guy… He should be rebaptized the God of Frustration.
Well, I probably should tell him to start talking again, in the unlikely case he says something important.
“A little louder maybe?”
“………AND THIS CONCLUDES THE ADVANTAGES AND OVERPOWERED ABILITIES RELATED TO BEING MY APOSTLE.”
And there he goes agai– Wait. What?!
“NOW, ABOUT THE DUTIES–”
“Wait!”
“WHAT?!”
My point exactly!
“Could you repeat the part about powers and advantages again?”
“NO!!”
“Uh?”
“I WILL NOT REPEAT BECAUSE I VERY MUCH DISLIKE REPEATING MYSELF!! NOW, AS I WERE SAYING, YOUR DUTIES ARE…”
Groaning loudly, I crouch and burry my face in my hands. This guy…
For what feels like hours, the God of Chaos monologues about what an honour it is to be his apostle and details my supposed duties to him, which basically could have been summed up with “continue what you’ve been doing until now”, a pat on the back and off I go! But noooooo. Mr Bob decided to be verbose today.
During his speech, he shifts appearances about a dozen times. I have no trouble understanding what he says in most cases, thanks to [Universanimal Language]. There is just that one time he transforms into a rock. For about fifteen minutes, I stand in awkward silence, staring at a small boulder topped by a granite hat, with no idea what I am supposed to do. Eventually he morphs into a six-legged canary and continues talking as if I was listening the entire time.
Sorry, but I don’t speak rock. It’s a flaw, I know. But I can’t seem to find a partner to practice with.
The circus continue for another while, until eventually…
“…aaaaaannnnnd thuuuuuuusssssssss yyyoooooooouuuuurrrrr rrrroooole iiiiiissss toooooooo heeeeeeelp maaa–”
“Maintaining the balance between order and chaos, not as opposite forces but as primordial forces complementing each other. Yes. I get it. You already told me twice!!” I say through gritted teeth, trying my best to repress the urge to strangle the old mauve sloth in front of me.
After a long pause, the god nods as slowly as he has been talking.
“Yeeeeesssss. Maaaaaaaaaiiinnnntaaaaaaaiiinnnniiiiiiiing theeee baaaaalaaaaaannnce beeeeeetweeeeeeennnnn oooorrrrdeeerrrr aaaaaaand chaaaaoooossss, noooot aaaaasssss ooooppoooosiiiite fooooorcesssss buuuuut aaaaaaasssss priiiimoooorrrrdiiiiaaaaallll foooooorrrrceeeesssss cooooommmpleeeemmmmeeeennntiiiiing eeeeeeaaaachhhhh ooootheeeerrrr. Yeeeeeesssssss, thaaaaaaat iiiiiisssss riiiiiiight.”
My hands are twitching, closing and relaxing alternatively. My left eye his having a seizure. And I’m pretty sure I’ve grinded half of my teeth to powder by now. And if you’re wondering, yes, I’ve tried walking away, but after five steps I always find myself back to sitting cross-legged in front of the bearded sloth. I’m not paralysed or anything. I just can’t leave.
I can’t leave.
I CAN’T LEAVE!!
HELP MEEEEEEEE!! I’M BEING LECTURED TO DEATH!!!
Let’s just kill him.
*sigh* We’ve tried that already.
Try again!
I don’t think it’s even possible to kill him.
I don’t care if he re-pops the next second! Just butcher him once! I NEED IT!!!!!
Calm down.
I AM CAAAAALM!!! I JUST WANT TO KILL SOMETHING!!! HOW IS THAT NOT BEING CALM?!?!?!
I’m pretty sure screaming for murder isn’t a sign of calmness.
It is for me!
Before I have time to extrapolate on that statement, the god starts shining brightly, stealing my attention. The brilliance quickly becomes unbearable and I raise a hand to shield my eyes. Then, as fast, the brightness recedes. In place of the sloth is now a white teapot, staring at me with a pair of bright green eyes.
“Ooooooh!!” the teapot exclaims in a childish voice after a mouth appears under the eyes. “You’re so tall!”
Do I want to know why he didn’t do the same when he was a rock?
Smash that pot!
Now, now. Shush you.
“I think it’s you who shrunk,” I reply wearily. I don’t even have the energy to be upset anymore.
“Oooooooooh!! Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Ooooooooooooooooh!!”
I have the feeling this teapot will become annoying very soon.
Smash it!!
Quiet. Violence isn’t a solution.
Yes it is!
But rarely the right one.
Who cares?!
I do.
For now…
The voice grumble something I don’t quite get, but I decide to ignore it. I report my attention on the teapot, which is currently observing its surroundings like it’s the first time he sees them and not as if we’ve been sitting here for hours. It’s actually rather surprising the landscape has been stable for so long.
“So…” I begin prudently. “That apostle gig, does that mean I’ll end up here every time I faint.”
That’s something I’d rather avoid.
It’s a huge pain in the ass!
“Here? Where, here?” the teapot asks, but before I can say something it continues. “Hey! Did you know I’m a little teapot?”
“Yes. I’ve figured,” I do my best to keep calm, but I’m quickly reaching my limits. What? What happened to being too tired to be upset? Well, in fact, I’m sure I’ve already reached my limits a long time ago and only sheer exhaustion is keeping me from flipping out.
“Yes, I’m a teapot, short and stout! See? Here’s my handle, and here’s my spout!”
If it starts singing, I throw it in the pond.
Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere!
I massage my temples.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a teapot, that’s great. Now, could you answer my question?”
“What question?” he asks, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“...”
Okay Elric. Breath in… Breath out…
“Will I get transported in this realm every time I faint?”
“Oooooooh! I know the answer to that one! Because I’m a clever teapot!”
I wait.
But nothing.
“Sooooo…?” I encourage, trying not to look or sound as it I’m about to burst a synapse.
“So what?”
Uuuuuurgh. That hyper little piece of shi–
No, no. It’s okay. You can do this. Breath in… Breath out… Breath in… Breath out…
“The answer to my question, what is i–”
“Hey! You wanna see what I can do? Look! I can turn my handle to a spout!”
He then proceeds to show me, while I proceed to snap.
“See? See?! Now you can ju– AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”
*splash*
…
……
……...
Silence at last.
“Ahhhh~” I sigh in contentment.
“Hey! You know I’m a little teapot?! Here is my handle, and here is my spout!”
OH MY GOD!!!!
I stare down with disbelief and horror at the little kitchen implement that materialised atop my right knee.
Is this what happens when you give an internet access to the embodiment of Randomness?
Is this a nightmare?
Is this Hell?
Suddenly, the little teapot jumps as if it just remembered something.
“Ha! But no, you won’t get transported here every time.”
Thank god!
“You’re welcome,” the teapot replies smugly.
Urgh. Mother of hyperactive mindreading teapots!
Smash it.
“Last time you came to establish a first contact and stabilise the connection. This time it was to give you a mission– HAH!!”
My ears perk up. Mission? Is it a quest?
Then I notice the little thing’s anxiety.
“What is it?”
“The mission! I almost forgot!!”
I sigh. “Well, you can tell me now.”
“Yes!” it happily yelps. “…but did you know I’m a little teEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!”
*splash*
You were right. It’s really cathartic.
See? You should listen to me more often.
Maybe I will.
Not even five seconds later, the whining little teapot reappears, on my left knee this time.
“HEY!! THAT WAS MEAN!! I’m a fragile little teapot! You’re supposed to tip me over and pour me out! Not throw me away into a pond!”
“Yeah, yeah. Just tell me about that mission already!”
“Ah! Yes! Here!”
*ting*
New Quest
The Plot
It all began with the gathering of the Great Sages. They were seven, four men and three women, who swore loyalty to the Angel Queen, ruler of Eden, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Within these sages dwelled a power never before wielded by mankind, for each was a peerless genius amongst their peers, and together their combined might could frighten even the gods.
Under the kind guidance of the Angel Queen and the protection of the Seven Sages, the kingdom of Eden prospered, bringing wealth to both high and low born and as much happiness as peace can foster. But with the brightness of good fortune came the darkness of envy. The neighbouring kings could not quell their desire for the treasures of Eden.
And that greed would doom them all.
One by one, the lands of Pandore fell prey to the fires of war, and few were those who sided with Eden. Overwhelmed by the numbers, even the might of the Great Sages could do nothing but slowly lose ground. At the sight of her beloved kingdom burning, despair dug its claws in the Angel Queen’s heart.
She cursed the gods, cursed Fate, and above all, she cursed the greed of men. To save what little was left, she abandoned herself to the darkness. The one once called the Purest Maiden became a demon of the battlefield. The Seven Sages in their loyalty followed her into madness, unleashing onto the world countless horrors. Faced with atrocities defying imagination, the kings were soon to recognise their folly. But alas it was too late. To survive, they could only attempt to mimic their foes and create monsters more terrible even.
The war became nightmare, and the world devolved into hell.
Eventually, after decades of bloodshed, the fighting came to an end, Eden victorious. But there was no rejoicing. The ones now called the Black Queen and her Seven Dark Lords wept at all that had bee, lost, as not even the death of all their enemies had saved their beloved home. The army remained, but Eden, the kingdom, had been ravaged beyond recognition, as had most of the known world.
Crushed by sorrow, the Queen vanished. With nothing but bitterness to unite them, the Seven Lord also each went their ways.
One, master of alchemy, secluded himself to continue his research.
One, strongest warrior amongst all, could not bear to abandon his Queen and roamed the world trying to find her.
Another one went with him. Waver of curses but sick of body, she knew how little time she had left to live and only hoped for one last meeting with her most important person.
One returned to the wilderness with her beasts, whose company she preferred to any other.
One simply disappeared, dispersing into the shadows.
Two, who together reigned supreme on blood, souls and death, had fallen in love. However one died from her wounds on the morrow of the last battle. Left alone with their infant son, and originally a foreigner to Eden, the other one chose to move back to what remained of his birth country and raise the child.
Thus came the end of an era. And some things, that should not have been forgotten, were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for seven and a half thousand years, the continent slowly reconstructed itself anew from its ashes. Today, little to no memory remained of what fire had burned it down in the first place.
Until, one day, someone disturbed relics best left to rest.
…
*dun* *dun* *DUUUUN* (LOL!)
PS: That’s where you come in and try to stop everything from going to sh*t. Be a good apostle of Chaos, protect the balance and all that…
Objectives:
Stop the bad guys before they destroy the world, by any means. (I tried to keep it simple for you. Sincerely, Bob Chaos.)
Stage 1: Join the fun!
The Seven Dark Lords may have left this world, but their legacies remain (which honestly is part of the issue). Locate one of their power and seize it for yourself! Careful, others might have their sights on it. Hint: power might be closer than you think.
Stage 2: [locked] 🔒
Success Condition:
Seize the ancient power before anyone else gets to it.
Failure Condition:
Let the power be snatched away from you.
Reward:
A unique class.
– Do you accept the quest? –
“What the…”
I frown. Where have I heard that story before?
*ting*
You have been forced to accept the quest [The Plot].
“What?!”
A smooth distinguished voice answers my exclamation.
“Oh. Yes. You can’t exactly refuse. The question shouldn’t even have appeared. Sincere apology. It’s because there hasn’t been any imposed quest until now. I’ll send a memo to have it fixed with the next patch. However, do note that there’s no penalty should you fail, so you can choose not to care. In any case, would you like some tea?”
I push the windows aside and glare at the red baboon in a tuxedo who has replaced the little teapot while I was reading. Although, “replaced” is not truly exact. The teapot is still there, held with disturbing class in one of the hind paws of the baboon. What’s disturbing is that the eyes and mouth of the teapot are still there too, the former glazed over and a tongue hanging limply from the latter.
“I… No, thank you. I’ll pass.” Tea from a dead pot doesn’t appeal me much.
“Your loss.” Leaning casually against a large boulder that definetly wasn’t there instants before, the monkey flashes me a dangerous grin and throws the poor teapot into the pond. For some reason, it seems crueller when I’m not the one doing it. “You must have questions? Please be concise. We’re on a schedule and you’re about to wake up.”
Ooooh. So now you worry about time, uh?
*sigh*
I refrain from calling him out on the sloth matter. If I’m indeed about to wake up, I’ll have to be quick. Because I do have a truckload of questions. That said, conscious of my tendency to side-track, I take a minute to organise my thoughts before opening my mouth.
“Is this about the Great War?”
The [Great War], [Antique War], [World War], and many other [
And apparently, I am, and it is.
“Yes. It’s about the Great War,” the baboon replies nonchalantly with a finger high up his nose.
…or is it? I’m confused.
He pulls it out and observe the huge bogey he fished, before flicking it into the pond. “It concerns the very core of the war in fact, which is precisely why this is so much trouble. That event shouldn’t have come into play at this stage of the game.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a bunch of technicalities. To dumb it down, there was approximately a probability of 0.003% chance of what’s currently happening to happen. But I guess that’s why people say probability zero doesn’t exist.” He shrugs and covers a yawn with his hairy paw. Did you know baboon have very, very sharp fangs? “Well, the details are bit complicated, and not really pertinent to your situation. But If you really want to know…” he leaves his sentence unfinished and cast me a bored quizzical glance.
I hesitate half a second before shaking my head.
“No, it’s fine.” I don’t really care about why something shouldn’t have happened. There’s enough to ponder just sticking to why it happened. “Can you give me any more information on this quest?”
More baboon shrugging. “Not really. I’ve told you about everything I’m allowed too. Even I have some restrictions, you know? Oh, sure, they are few and far in between, but they still exist. Can’t directly make massive changes to the world, only influence indirectly via a whole system of blessing and stuff. And I can’t infringe on player’s privacy settings. I’m not even allowed to tell you someone else is already trying to gather the powers of the Dark Lords. Nor can I tell you that he has one for himself already or that two unclaimed powers are in the country you’re currently in.” He shots me a crafty smile. “Nope. My lips are tied.”
This guy…
“Besides,” he shrugs, again. “This is a game after all. If I gave you all the answers, you’d have no fun figuring it out.”
“That’s a rather dull reason,” I comment offhandedly.
He rolls his eyes. If you’ve never seen a red monkey in a tuxedo rolling his eyes, it’s quite an odd sight.
“There’s actually an ‘official’ reason, involving a lot of mumbo jumbo about fate, the rule of causality and whatnot. That’s the one any other god will give you, including Toby because he’s a stickler for rules. The others just don’t know better. But, basically, that’s merely bullshit roleplay. I don’t think you’d care.”
I shrug. He’s right. I like roleplaying for fun, but I don’t care for convoluted justifications made to cover up what are in essence game mechanics. I’m a weekend role-player.
Another idea crosses my mind.
“It says my reward will be a new class. But I have one already. I don’t want to lose it.”
I’ll admit that the label [Unique Class] makes me salivate a bit. In comparison, my [Solar Knight] is “only” a [Hidden Class], meaning the conditions to unlock it are tricky, but more than one player can obtain it as long as they figure out how to. Though I believe I’m the only Paladin of Sunny at the moment.
A [Unique Class] however, like the name implies, is one of a kind. That doesn’t make such class necessarily better than regular classes. A competent [Swordsman] can beat a lousy [Battle Pope] any day of the week. But rare classes usually have perks. And I can’t believe that the power of one of these Seven Dark Sages – or whatever their name is – could be anything but a~we~sooooome~
That said, I like my current class. I’m used to it and there are few that can surpass my firepower, in more senses than one.
To prove his interest in my inquiry, the god scratches his butt and farts.
Classy.
“Oh? Yeah. About that. The next patch will also introduce subclasses, to increase the diversity of playstyles.”
“So I’d be able to keep my current class?”
He shrugs again, and a strange light passes in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can guess what it meant. It’s highly suspicious. …But then, everything about the God of Chaos, alias Bob, is suspicious anyway, so worrying is a bit pointless. What shall happen will happen, I guess. It’s not like he gave me any specific instructions to follow that might lead to a trap.
…
In fact, now that I think of it, he really didn’t give me any concrete instruction. Just a lot of background info and a short-term goal. For a supposedly important quest given by one of the two Primordial Gods, I am driving quite blind, ain’t I?
Thus I ask: “Any advice you can actually give me?”
I reserve the right to follow them or not.
“Just finish your current quest. Should be enough to get on the right track for stage one. The rest is up to you.” He looks at his wrist, even though he clearly isn’t wearing any watch. “And speaking of things that are up, our time together is.”
Indeed, the misty mountains around us is starting to blur and I feel like something is pulling me back. It’s quite uncomfortable, like small tugs on your entire body.
In the fading décor, the baboon morphs into a black featureless androgynous silhouette, who then tips their rainbow-coloured top-hat to me.
“Good bye, Elric. It was a pleasure. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to talk again like this, so until then, please take ca–”
At that moment, a loud scream tears through the quiet atmosphere, startling both of us.
“CHAOS!!! YOU THIEF!! GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!!! CHAAAAAOOOOOOS!!!!”
The booming sound is like a mix between a woman’s voice and the roar of an immense burning pyre. Chaos look over his shoulder, and despite the total lack of feature on his current visage, I have the distinct impression what he sees frightens him. Why do I have this impression, you may ask? Simple. Because the mighty god of Chaos is currently running away while shouting: “Oh crap! Oh no! Oooh crap-crap-crap-crap!!”
I really want to know what’s going on, but I only have the time to see a reddish orange glow flare in the distance and to feel the temperature jump up, before the scenery is abruptly replaced by a vaguely familiar wooden roof.
…
……
………
What the hell was that?
I don’t know, but seeing that guy so scared was hilarious!
I’m lying down on my back and under me is a thin mattress. Seems like I’m back in Martha’s home in Kansas. At least, if this is not another one of Bob’s godly party tricks. I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Oh! You’re awake!”
My doubts are mostly alleviated when a definitely familiar face appears above me, framed by curly dark brown twin-tails.
“Are you alright, Mr Elric Walker? You collapsed at breakfast. Are you sick, Mr Elric Walker?”
What a sweetheart. She even quit calling you “single”.
Shut up before I decide to find a way to be the “single” person in my own head.
I’m about to give the customary “Yes, yes, I’m fine”, but then I take a second to actually consider the answer. Conclusion? No, I am not fine. My head is pounding. My bowels feel like they melted then were shaped back with a sledgehammer. I’m uncomfortably warm. Breathing hurts. And when I try to move, Dorothy suddenly becomes Dorothies. In other words, I feel like someone who just almost died of poisoning, a sensation I’m all too familiar with.
Although, I’m not dead, so that’s a plus. And given that last time I went to Chaosland, I came back hairless, things could have been much worse… Ah.
“Fudge.”
“Mr Elric Walker?”
“I forgot to ask him to remove the baldness curse.”
CHAOOOOOOOOO–
Ah. I mean.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOB!!
…Boob?
*sigh*
Why is my life so tiring?
It’s entirely your fault.
* * * * *