SAVE POINT 69
Finding Some Hiccups in the Server...Reloading Trading Portal Level...100%
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1121418686905987072/6f6eee86-3d89-4a88-b4f0-3a6b7a3cb7af.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1121418687241523270/48ef058f-d153-4a88-9097-429b09e82ea4.png]
Dormouse
Sure, watch the nerd crowd, Dormouse. That's something significant. That's something important. That's pulling your weight in this life-or-death, end-of-the-world situation. Sure. ...Why do people think they can always lie to me?
It probably doesn't help that I look like I'm fifteen. I was kicked out of an Earth bar once because the bouncer didn't believe my ID; shit like this just happens to me. I guess I should be used to it by now.
...At least I'm with Mimi; if I have to be that annoying, glass-half-full person, that's one positive.
I glance over at the girl, and can't help but notice her smooth jawline, the steel in those eyes and that adorable freckled nose. The wind kicks up the chin-length ends of her brown hair, and she pushes them away from her lips with a calculated finger. God, I get the flutters when I look at her. It's like I'm thirteen again. My heart's all jumpy and my palms start to sweat. I've been in my head too much about it lately. ...Maybe a little in my pants too. I've tried to get a grip on it, but—
"Dormouse," her voice is firm, but she lays a soft hand on my arm.
See, she'll do things like that! Shivers trace up and down my skin where she's touching. Get a grip, Dormouse, this isn't kindergarten. You've been touched by a girl before. Why is it doing things like this to me?
"We obviously should close the portal so more of the crowd can't get through," the girl continues, "We could use that guy's help from before—the one with the dreadlocks. He seems like some type of leader to them. Do you know where he is?"
Do I know where my lungs are?! Focus.
I take a sharp breath in, my eyes scanning the jumbled herd of people stretching before the two of us. It's like playing iSpy, looking for that damned needle in a haystack. Finally, I spot the guy, "There!" I point. And I watch Mimi's lips stretch into that familiar, determined line I know too well as we charge towards him—her, hands on hips, me, trying to remember my Warden training and look like I have some backbone of authority here.
The grimy, surfer dude with the blonde dreads strides towards us, both hands in his jean pockets. "Good 'morrow fine sir and lady knight!" he calls in a thick and obviously fake British accent. I look around—behind us like he might be talking to someone else, but apparently not. Where did the British accent come from? Just because this is a fantasy game doesn't mean we're all either Old English or Scottish...
"Hey, listen, bud, we gotta shut down the Trading Portal," I call to him, not wanting to prolong what will most likely be a bunch of small talk and pleasantries if I let him continue.
"Aw, man, you guys!"—both his shoulders and his accent drop—"We were just starting to have fun!"
Is he aware just how thoroughly he's resembling a five year old right now?
"Well, can you have fun in another dimension because this one can't support an extra 5,000 Gamers," Mimi snorts, striding towards the abandoned gas station as the crowd parts before her, gaping at us. "And do us all a favor and burn that book when you get back to reality. No offense, but we have enough to deal with without swarms of people dimension hopping."
God, I love it when she's being a hardass. It somehow makes her sweet side that much sweeter. I trail behind her like the puppy dog I really don't want to be, ducking my head a little. How can we possibly get all of these people to willingly jump back into the portal and out of our world? If she can do it, I'd certainly like to see it.
Mimi already has her tools out by the time I swing open the glass, storefront door which is smeared with dirt rather than clear in any amount. I know the toolbelt is standard issue for portal guards, but there's nothing standard about the quick way her fingers use the screwdriver to unhinge the emergency cover on the side of the portal pillar device; that's pure skill that can only come with time and experience.
"Need help?" I offer, dragging one foot back and forth across the linoleum floor with a swishing sound just for something to do. "I'm probably not as quick as you with the anatomy of these rigs, but I know a thing or two about—"
"Hit that lever, will you?" The girl absentmindedly gestures to a black pull lever on the opposite wall I would have never even seen; it blends seamlessly with the painted, black stripe that extends horizontally around the entire wall.
"I got ya." Before I can say anything, Mr. Dreadlocks joker steps through the door and towards the lever. With one sweeping heave, he yanks it downward but—
But it sticks.
With a frown and a grumble, he leans his weight into it, "Damn thing won't—"
There's a snapping sound.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
And, then, the guy turns, a vacant expression covering his face and a black, broken handle in the palm of his open hand. He looks at the jagged piece of plastic, shrugging, "Well, we tried—"
"Are you kidding me?!" Mimi storms, her eyes a frustrated furious that looks like it might break in half at any given moment, "That's the only way to disengage the transfer unit—"
She stops when she sees that her tirade is sorely lost on the guy who's far too busy inspecting whatever appears to have dribbled down the front of his t-shirt at some prior point.
But I understand Mimi's panic. She means the portal is locked in a closed status. We can't get anyone out. The nerds are stuck here. ...And we've basically done the OPPOSITE of what Rosabella asked us to.
Dragon's shit.
"Can't you use a wrench to turn it like the lever would?" I ask, trying to be helpful and feeling like I'm failing by the looks of her teeth-grinding expression.
"No, Dormouse. I'd risk hitting the enabler and frying the entire rationing circuit."
I have no idea what any of that means except that it's bringing annoyed tears to her eyes. Doesn't sound too good---
The bell on the convenience store door tinkles weakly. "Excuse me—"
A girl's timid voice?
And giggling? Right behind me?
I whirl to find two girls tittering to each other and sinking away from me like they'd rather blend in with the wall.
"Oh my God, he's so cute—" one whispers.
"He's looking at us, act normal!" the other demands.
Wait...are they... Are they talking about...me? I spin only to find the dreadlocks guy blinking in my direction and Mimi's annoyed stare. There's no one else here...
"We read about you in the book," the first one—a sticky girl with ringlets down to her waist—ventures, toying with her hair, "You were the only one who was nice to Rosabella at first. You wear your heart on your sleeve—"
"Will you sign our books?"
They shove paperbacks at me—identical books with a fiery dragon on the front.
While I gape.
Openly.
At their interested faces, batting eyelashes and expectant lips.
H-o-l-y shit. This is really happening? This isn't a dream? I didn't just fall asleep propped up somewhere or vividly imagine this in the middle of something else I'm supposed to be doing? I can't have. I've only ever seen this book once before.
I shakily take the pen and books from them.
"Can you sign it with a heart?" the first girl wants to know.
My mouth has never been drier as I scribble my name of the first pages and extend the books awkwardly back. And they hug them to their abundant chests like I'm a rockstar and just given them each a one-hundred-dollar bill as they giggle and slide back out the door.
And leave me there.
Frozen and staring. That and scratching my head.
What the—
The blonde-haired, dreadlocks, surfer bro speaks suddenly at my shoulder, his loud voice startling. "That one's BettyBoop69. Sure you don't want to talk further to her, if you know what I mean?" He raises a cocked eyebrow which has me blushing rainbows.
"If you two are done with whatever that was," Mimi huffs, "I could use a little help here."
I turn to see that the petite girl is attempting to lift the portal column by herself. Her face strains from the weight of it, and I rush to her aid—although, let's be honest, I'm not exactly Arnold Schwarzenegger. With all three of our hands on it (surfer bro included), we heave it to the side.
"There, now, no one will try to use it," Mimi starts, brushing her hands off on her body armor. But that's right when the air wavers, glowing a vivid, turquoise blue and—
I try not to begin instantaneously hyperventilating but it's nearly impossible.
Because Maude materializes.
The blonde girl I've had a crush on for forever.
Right next to Mimi.
And I'm staring at the two girls who are definitely the downfall of me. Here. Both in the same room.
Is this place getting smaller—the air thicker? The walls and empty shelves closing in?
The two girl's smile at each other. Maude throws a crackling walkie talkie to Mimi who catches it swiftly. "You gotta keep up on the chatter. The channel is lit about the activity through this portal. Something like 5,300 persons transferring—" the blonde girl rushes.
"5,280," surfer bro corrects.
Maude looks the man up and down and comes up seemingly unimpressed—probably 'cause he looks like he smells. "Who is this guy?"
"I honestly don't remember," Mimi hisses under her breath, but I guess he heard because he steps forward with a low bow.
"DANK#Fanboi_420 at your service, my illustrious muse," the man's eyes are all but eating up the blonde's curvaceous frame.
But her lips pucker in distaste as she flips her straight hair over one shoulder. "Ew," she mouths.
"Well, the adjuster hinge broke," Mimi fills her in quickly, "So, unfortunately, people can still come through the portal, but I can't send them back through from this side. We'll have to use the Northern portal to herd them back through, but that's a few days walk, at least—probably more with a crowd this size—so...
"Assuming they'll go." I interrupt the girls' conversation with that awkward statement and what was supposed to be a half-laugh but comes out more of a hiccup.
They both stare at me.
"If you're looking for info on the group, I could show you all around," Fanboi offers with a shrug—probably the most helpful thing he's ever offered.
Mimi nods, "Okay."
"Hey, also, I have brownies. Want one?" He holds out a handful of mostly-smashed, brown, confectionary treats wrapped in clear, cling wrap which have apparently been surviving in his pocket—hence the smash.
And I'm suddenly very hungry.
I nod and watch him peel a brownie out of the wrapping.
And I shove the chocolate sensation in my mouth to avoid shoving my foot there.
Again.
As I, and my two crushes who really shouldn't be best friends, trail out behind him.