***Post Arrival, PA Day 97 7:48 am, Time Remaining until transfer 10.13:12:00; transfer rank 3,459,834
There were some early risers already moving towards the grocery store in search of food, so the streets weren't as deserted as he had expected. A few eyed the bag slung over his shoulder checking to see if he had food but moved on when they noticed the framing hammer. The hammer was a compromise. The steel head didn’t make his skin itch as much as pure iron did, and the titanium handle allowed him to keep the steel a little further from his skin. Plus, Mississippi was an open-carry state and while there was a distinct possibility that some of these people had guns, the hammer provided just enough doubt that most people decided they weren't desperate enough to go that far yet.
As Gin neared downtown, he could see a smattering of protesters blocking the barricade in front of the Police Station, and judging by the signs, they were angry at the lockdown, the government, the aliens, and everything related to them. He could just make out the blackened soot and graffiti staining the building. It hadn’t been there when he came by to let them know he would be needing transport today. Someone had taken offense since then and firebombed the building, but it hadn't gotten out of hand before the local police and fire departments got the situation under control.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t pick him up at home, but said they would expect him at the station no later than 9 am. Which resulted in his current dilemma as he hugged the shadows trying to go unnoticed by the crowd. Some of the town’s rowdier residents were hanging around looking to start trouble. Gin had run into them a couple of times while out scrounging for things. They were mad that the work had dried up, mad that the bars were shut down, and just generally mad at everything that prevented them from wasting their lives away. When they found out Gin had qualified as a Dreamer, they found an outlet for their anger and lumped him into all the things they were mad at.
Staring through the crowd, He finally managed to catch the eye of someone manning the barricade and made a break for it. He was almost there when the rowdies caught sight of him. Most weren't really awake yet, but a few malcontents moved to block him. With a shoulder fake that he had never been capable of before the stat changes, he slipped past them and over the barricade as the officer intercepted any pursuit. They were not happy at his escape, and he tried to ignore the imprecations shouted at his back, but the pleas from parents trying to get him to take their children ate at his soul as he walked into the lobby.
97 days in and still so many people didn't understand what was going on. Every night they saw the morbid and grisly footage, but it wasn't happening to them, so they ignored it. Some though had started to realize things were getting desperate despite the small rays of hope like the colonies. Parents were becoming increasingly desperate and had started demanding solutions. If not for them, then for their children? Gin wasn’t sure who started the rumor but parents had suddenly gotten the idea that the government was protesting the families of the Dreamers, so everyone became desperate to safeguard their littlest ones.
Captain Hank Jenkins' scowl barely broke as Gin walked into the lobby. "Thanks for coming early. We're still waiting on one more, so have a seat and we’ll get moving as soon as we can." The man was just as intimidating as always, and Gin got goosebumps just being near him.
Gin nodded, thankful that Captain Jenkins hadn't recognized him. It wasn't like he was going to refresh the man’s memory either. The last time they had seen each other, Gin and his friends had been surfing on top of a car. [Not one of his brightest ideas.] Thankfully, they had gotten off with a warning and Hank seemed to have no memory of the event.
A cup of bad coffee and an hour of uncomfortable musical chairs later, Gin was startled as several officers ran past. He could hear the protestors getting rowdy again as the doors banged open. He had barely moved to check things out when a muffled blast silenced the pandemonium outside. A bedraggled figure in a ratty sweatshirt was pushed through the doors as Captain Jenkins backed into the room like some wild west gunslinger.
"Sit down and shut up, Patricia. I can't believe you started this shit with everything else going on."
Patricia gave Hank a dirty look as she pushed the sweatshirt hood back. Normally, Pat kept her hair neatly braided in rows, but it looked like someone had tried to pull a handful out and left a disheveled mess. "That's not my name and you know it, Dad!"
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"There's no way I'm calling you that ridiculous thing you made up. For one thing, it's sacrilegious, and for another, your mother would tear us both a new one."
They both glared at each other for a minute, "Why are you late?"
She seemed to deflate as she explained. "Dwayne and Little John were crying after Mom pitched another screaming fit about . . . you know . . . everything. And then those nuts outside were waiting for me."
[Same old Pat, still says more with her hands than her words.]
"Yeah, but since we can't stop it, you'll be safer in Texas. At least there you’ll have someone to watch your back." Hank waved a hand at Gin, "You remember the Newton boy don't cha? Weren't you two friends in High School or something? Don't think I've seen you together since that time I caught y'all surfing on Fred Beckett’s old car."
Gin cringed and gave her a small wave, having forgotten that she was with them that night. "Everyone calls me Gin, G I N, now, Captain Jenkins."
"Is this another one of those made-up gamer tags y'all created?"
"Kind of, sir. It's a popular name in Anime and someone realized my Initials matched, so . . .", Gin shrugged.
"George Newton. I guess that makes sense. What’s the I for? That’s not even part of your middle name, but at least it's better than Rose Night-thorn, Princess of the Nocturnals." His hands waved vaguely at a resentful Pat.
"That's Priestess, not Princess." Her glare was like daggers.
Gin’s chest clenched with a pinch of pain when Hank had used his name, but he smiled ruefully, and with a mocking bow proclaimed, "May the Nocturnals ease your slumber, Mother."
Eyes twinkling, she gave him a cheeky smile and nod, "Rest well, and may your dreams bring greatness." She always had a flair for the dramatic. Especially when they traveled to the local LARPS.
On the other hand, he vowed to avoid Hank, because if looks could kill . . . [GULP!]
"This is why those idiots outside want to kill both of you. You have no respect for any of this shite and flaunt that alien B.S in everyone's face."
"Sorry, Hank it’s a defense mechanism at this point. Either this or we curl up in a ball of terror.", Gin threw his hands around vaguely indicating the situation. "You do realize that there is a high probability we die a horrible death in a couple of weeks."
That seemed to sober everyone up. Hank even gave them both a commiserating look before motioning, "Come on, I got the Squad SUV ready to go in the back."
Pat gave Gin a knuckle bump and a hug as they loaded up what little they had into the SUV. She raised a quizzical eyebrow when she noticed the flinch of pain and the bandages.
“Really Big Orc.” she nodded understandingly at his whispered explanation.
Conversation was minimal on the drive to Jackson. Gin had taken the backseat hoping to get some sleep as he put on a headset and tuned everyone out.
*** Post Arrival, PA Day 10 9:58 pm, Estimated Time until transfer 97.23:02:00; estimated rank 4,429,464
“NEVEM!!” Gin was coated in sweat as he yelled repeatedly up the stairway. Until he finally saw him standing on the top landing.
“What the heck was that Nevem? Those guys had No Chance! No Chance whatsoever! Do your masters really call that entertainment? What the Frack, Dude? Do they get their jollies from sending us naked into unknown danger?”
“No, they do not.”
“Then what the frack?”
“The early rounds are always this brutal. It weeds out the ‘Leeroy Jenkins’ of the society and provides a reminder to the contestants that this is brutally real.” Nevem actually looked regretful for once.
“As if being beaten, stabbed, drowned, shot at, and buried alive hadn’t made that clear already. I . . . I can’t do this tonight, Nevem. Maybe tomorrow. I’m just going to rest tonight and maybe see if I can talk to some real people tomorrow.”
“I understand, my young friend. I hope this has not affected your trust in me. You have some flexibility in your timeline but don’t make it a habit. The more skills you accumulate now the more prepared you will be when your time comes.”
*** Post Arrival, PA Day 13 4:47 am, Estimated Time until transfer 94.16:13:00; estimated rank 4,420,101
“Damnit all, Nevem! What did I tell you about the damn Cowbell.” Gin wore a pained expression and had both hands clamped over his ears.
Nevem raised a single finger with a smug grin. “That it could only be used at sporting events and on special occasions.”
“Aaargh! Fine! Since this is obviously not a sporting event what’s the special occasion?” Gin had overdrawn his mana playing hide or die with a pack of rats. Really big rats! That could somewhat see in the dark!! Forcing him to overuse the Cloak of Shadows spell he was trying to learn.
He was beginning to hate casting, but Nevem kept insisting there was a plan, and he just needed a few more skills. If he heard “Just a few more?” again he was going to scream.
“HUZZAH. Young Dreamer. You have completed nine tutorials and earned an extra tier zero skill slot as a reward. That means you will have 3 slots for all of the tutorials going forward. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“That is kind of nice, but so far, I only missed out on that shield skill when I did the hammer training. Do I get to keep two skills now instead of just the Life (a) attunement? If so, then I want that Shape Earth spell again?”
“No, my friend. Trust me, you need all of the slots for combat training, but before that we need just a few more attunements unlocked.”
Gin would have screamed more if he had known a few actually meant ten.