By the time the VRMMORPG Powermongerer came online, everybody with a working brain knew to go through as much training as they could as soon as possible when beginning any VR game. Everybody’d seen just how much better those who’d forsaken the short term for the long term had turned out; and everyone wanted to be the best. Everyone, that was, except for Danica Graverly.
Danica was what her classmates referred to as a retro-throwbacker. She was a self-absorbed blonde bombshell of the highest order; an unapologetic affrontery. Nobody knows where she got it from or why she gravitated towards that personality. Her parents were a good lesbian couple who’d chosen genetic manipulation to procreate dualized offspring in each other. They were smart, creative, hard-working, and open-minded people. In other words, they were ideal members of society.
Danica’s other-mother twin brother was already leading a lifestyle of gay debauchery like a proper 16-year-old boy. With his dazzling blue eyes and perfect, athletic physique, he was the belle of their Clinton-class cooperative (second only to Obama-class in shear societal efficiency).
In the modern world of VR-gaming, users tended to have three choices when it came to character creation, regardless of the genre. One, freely choose between the standard basic option: typically, human, elf, dwarf, or beastman. The specific sub-type of elf, dwarf, and beastman were randomized between a few pre-ordained options (~three of each). Two, pay to choose the sub-type, but still between the pre-ordained options. Three, fill out a survey/questionnaire and have a race picked for you from among the thousands that exist, based on your answers.
Danica had chosen the survey option. She wanted to show that she was as special as she’d been told she was her entire life. At over 400 questions, she almost gave up part-way through because it reminded her of the dozens of standardized tests she was required to take every year as part of her schooling. Instead, she opted to treat it the same way she treated them. She randomly clicked the bubbles. She didn’t even so much as read the questions. Answers were chosen based on which ones she liked the best.
“Congratulations! You are the 58,886,793rd person to complete the survey and are the 25th person to assess at this character race. Henceforth, you shall be known as Space Elf Y in the Galactic Compedia. Go forth and be proud of what you’ve achieved!” This is what the white-veiled, androgynous form standing before her in the game’s virtual lobby said after she’d completed the character generation test.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
It didn’t matter to her. She was only playing because it was the latest ‘it’ thing to do, and a homework assignment. So, she sent the completion receipt to her teacher via the in-game ‘notify teacher’ option. Some legal and privacy notifications popped up. They said something about none of her character details being included in that correspondence, but to comply with some statute, all her information and actions would be collected by the government and HPLS corporation. She skipped through them as quick as the system would allow her, bored and annoyed with the disruptions.
The virtual host continued with its programmed routine. “Choose your name.”
“Barbzilla,” Danica replied. In an effort to mimic real life (and the shear number of people playing), names didn’t have to be unique. However, she wanted one that she expected few others would choose. She didn’t want to be just another Godmeister or Bad Ass Mother Fucker; neither did she want to be a Starchild or Sofia. She wanted something cute but edgy to match the persona she’d cultivated her entire life.
A life-size 3D image of her character appeared before her. It was 172 cm tall with luminous celeste/arctic ice-colored skin, laser lemon-colored eyes, and pixie-bobbed style black hair with flecks of white, reds, and blues scattered throughout like an astronomical chart. Apart from the pointy ears and a slimmer bone structure, Danica’s features were clearly visible in the face.
“Based on your survey answers and body scan, this is what you’ll look like as a space elf. You can adjust the size of any feature by up to 10%, and the color by up to 20%.”
Keeping the height, Danica messed around until she got the rest just right. She’d maxed out the breasts and left herself with an absurdly small waist for the breadth of her chest and hips, which subsequently were proportional and not all that unrealistic. She’d done what she could with the ass, but being an elf didn’t give her much to work with.
She liked the colors. “There, done.”
“Translocation to System 6000077112.17 will commence in three, two, one….” Danica’s senses went dark as the countdown terminated.
Back to Main PageNEXT CHAPTER