Ivy slipped her prosthetic arm carefully into the sleeve of the gamesuit before shrugging it over her shoulders. She didn’t know why she still treated the arm so gingerly. It wasn’t like it was going to fall off. It was made out of metal and plastic, attached directly to her humerus with a socket of cobalt-chromium alloy. It couldn’t be removed without special tools, and she didn’t want to think what would happen to her nerve endings if the wires connected to them were cut or yanked out of their contacts. It might well feel like having a biological arm ripped off.
The level of technology in this place amazed her. It was beyond anything she’d ever heard of, and she kept up on the cutting edge stuff. This was decades ahead of VRCade at the mall. The first time she’d tried on a haptic feedback suit at the CES Conference when she was nineteen—she squeezed back a tear that it was the last thing she’d really done with her dad before the heart attack—it had been an incredible experience. She had a sense, however, that this suit would make that one look like a buggy whip—or the way her arm compared to a simple hook. Something about the gold circuit patterns inside the suit had made her uneasy, but her excitement washed past it like surf over a sea urchin.
“I can sense your excitement,” the GM said in his hunky male voice.
“Oh, can you,” she said. “Biometric telemetry?”
“Yes. It is necessary to monitor the physical well-being of all my players.”
“Does the game get stressful?” she asked as she slipped on her gauntlets.
“Humans can become very immersed, and in moments of stress experience real physiological responses.”
“Good to know.” She picked up the visor and put it on. The black lenses before her eyes immediately came to life and the apparatus seemed to hug her skull gently, settling into place. “I have so many questions about how all this works.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Unfortunately I’m not allowed to share that information to unauthorized users. Are you ready to remake yourself?”
“Bring it on.”
A musical fanfare of strings and brass rose in her earphones, and a thrill shot through her, the Crimson Castle theme she’d heard in all the trailers.
The GM said, “Your mission is set in North America in the year 1887. You may choose character classes based on occupations that existed at that time.”
She smiled and rubbed her hands in anticipation. She loved Sherlock Holmes and all those creepy old ghost stories.
A HUD appeared in her vision.
<<<>>>
Choose Your Character Class
<<<>>>
After that came a long list archetypes and occupations, all accompanied by portraits of her wearing the appropriate garb. At least fifty of them floated the air before her, so real she wanted to touch them—so she tried.
Sure enough, she could. When she brushed her fingertips over the characters, they felt semi-solid, embossed in the air itself. She giggled, feeling like she’d just stepped into a science fiction movie.
“So, what’s it gonna be…?” she mused, scrolling through them. The choices were overwhelming. Alienist, what psychologists used to be called. Animal trainer? Antiquarian. Archaeologist. Artist. Astronomer. Author. Boring, boring. She wanted some action up in here. Bounty Hunter had promise. Circus performer? How on earth could the game simulate that kind of agility in someone who utterly lacked it?
If she paused on one of the classes, a window popped up giving an overview of its strengths and weaknesses. She went back to Bounty Hunter.
Character Class: Bounty Hunter
A hunter of fugitives, many of them quite dangerous and desperate in this era, needs a distinct set of qualities, chiefly resourcefulness, intelligence, and perseverance.
The Bounty Hunter strikes a balance between investigation and tracking skills to find your prey and the combat skills necessary to subdue them.
Bounty hunters may begin the game with one firearm and one hand-to-hand weapon.
“Interesting…” Best to not be too hasty, though. She kept scrolling. Clergyman. Criminal. Doctor (ugh!). Drifter…
Nothing was sparking her imagination. Why would someone come into a game like this and best just an everyday schlub? It took all kinds, she supposed. And then… Ding!
“We have a winner.”
Character Class: Gambler The Gambler must have a sharp wit, a keen eye, and an astute sense for reading his adversaries. At the card table, everyone is an adversary who must be relieved of their money. And when the game goes poorly and you land in hot water, you need combat skills to get you out. Gamblers may begin the game with one firearm and one hand-to-hand weapon.
Ivy had named her streaming persona DocHolliday666 for a reason. Way, way back in the branches and roots of her family tree, her family’s Georgia roots intersected that of the legendary Old West gambler and gunslinger, famous for the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and having terminal tuberculosis. He’d had no children, so he might be something like a twelfth cousin. When she’d heard this story at a family reunion once, it had fascinated her, so she’d read a couple of books about him. He was not a nice man—he was a complicated man. She liked that. She wanted to be complicated herself, but without all the killing and marauding and alcoholism, at least in real life.
She did a quick scroll through the other classes just to make sure she wasn’t missing anything even better. Martial artist, Mechanic, Mercenary... Occultist. That one sounded interesting, but she wasn’t the wizard type. She usually played the more roguish types, rather than tanks or spell-slingers.
She considered. Their mission was set in Victorian times in North America, but that could be literally anywhere between Panama and the North Pole. The Old West? New England? Aztec ruins? The Yukon? The Civil War?
“If you’re having trouble deciding,” the GM said, “I have highlighted several classes that would best fit your mission.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Gambler was one of those. Archaeologist. Handyman. Handyman, really? Occultist. Doctor. Nurse. Private Investigator. Professor. Scientist. Soldier. Based on these recommendations, this didn’t sound like a combat-heavy experience, which she had to admit was one of the aspects of the game she was really looking forward to trying.
Then it hit her that her team should have coordinated their party archetypes. Tank, missile shooter, spell caster, healer. She could rely on Ellie to play a healer—it was all she ever played. James would probably be a spellcaster of some sort, but Ash was a wild card. She’d played a lot of missions and dungeons with him, but he didn’t seem to have a preferred character type. He was a good, reliable player, but wasn’t a min-maxer, someone who leveraged every aspect of the game system for maximum punch with the minimum level.
And then there was the fact that this could be a date. Would she be kissing him before this was over?
“Gambler it is.” She tapped her choice, and a new screen sprang into her vision.
* * *
Ellie had scrolled through the list of character archetypes three times and couldn’t decide. She hadn’t known what to expect coming in here, but she usually played some type of healer. Both the Doctor and Nurse archetypes were skill-based, and she was in the mood for something more...supernatural. Not a spell-blasting sorceress, but more like a shaman, or a mystic, or someone with a great breadth of knowledge like a professor who knew everything. The character who understood things. Ellie wanted to understand things. Escape room games needed brains, and the best one she’d played was interwoven with local history from a real nineteenth century gold heist.
What would Ivy choose? She usually picked a ranged expert of some sort—she was practically legendary as a first-person shooter on Twitch—relying on Ellie’s characters to pick up the pieces of a mangled party. What Ellie really loved was imagining her characters deeply and then sketching them on a character sheet or with software. It was why she wanted to be an illustrator, so that she could bring characters and stories to life. She could lose hours that way, and didn’t have to deal with people, especially all the men who relentlessly hit on her. They didn’t all suck, but most days she was too tired of it for words, and just wanted to be left alone. People were usually extra nice to her because of the way she looked, but she’d learned young it was most often because they wanted something from her, with sex at the deepest root of it. It would be even worse if someone saw her in this slinky gamesuit, which fit like yoga tights. It made her ass look amazing.
But everyone always wanted her to be something for them—lover, sex object, model, one-night stand, arm candy, trophy wife. She wanted to escape from all that. She wanted an escape from the usual. She wanted to break out, do something completely different, even from Ivy’s expectations.
Would that mean that the party would be left without a healer? That was a risk.
“Hey, GM?” she said.
“Yes?” came the smoky, mystical Galadriel-like voice.
“Does Cate Blanchett know you stole her voice?”
“We licensed her voice print.”
Ellie laughed at that. “I have a question. How does healing work in this game? What if a character gets hurt?”
“Each character is granted a number of Life Points based on their Size, Strength, and Constitution. If a character is physically injured, Life Points are deducted, based on the type of injury, and including a certain amount of randomization. Life Points can be regained through application of First Aid skill, or Medicine skill, or through rest, or through the use of certain spells or magical items.”
She frowned. That sounded pretty standard to most games and didn’t help much.
As if sensing Ellie’s question, the GM went on, “All character classes start with a default skill percentage in both First Aid and Medicine. First Aid is easier to use, but Medicine is more effective, requiring the specialized education and training of a Doctor or Nurse.”
“And compared to spells?”
“Those are mysteries that must be delved in the game environment.”
“So there’s isn’t a Cure Light Wounds spell or something equivalent?”
“Magical healing in the Crimson Castle has...costs. As in your world, combat has consequences.”
“So what happens if I get killed?”
“After a one-minute delay, your character respawns with half Life Points at a designated Respawn point nearby, losing all unspent skill points.”
Ellie scratched her chin, mulling this over. In the list of character archetypes floating in the air before her, she scrolled back to Antiquarian.
Character Class: Antiquarian The Antiquarian has a deep love of all things ancient and mysterious, believing every artifact, every ancient tome and rare book, has a story to tell for those who know how to listen. Few possess the Antiquarian’s depth of knowledge of History and other fields of study, as well as the ability to identify and evaluate mysterious objects. Antiquarians may begin the game with one hand-to-hand weapon and a 20% bonus to skill points.
She liked the idea of playing an older character, a mature character. People assumed she was just a ditz because of her looks and general baby face. It might be nice to see what would happen if she looked like a middle-aged adult, someone who innately commanded quiet respect.
She punched Antiquarian.
The GM asked, “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” It was only for one game anyway. A breath of fresh air. Something different. And if the party needed a dedicated healer, well, they should have been more careful.
* * *
Fully clad in gamesuit, visor, and gauntlets, James played the archetypes like a set of bongo drums hanging in the air around him, rapping out rhythms between several he was considering.
“So what should I be, GM?”
The rich, sonorous voice of Sean Connery, complete with Scottish accent, seemed to come from the walls. “That is your choice, son, you know that. I’ve highlighted a few archetypes based on your personality and interests.”
James scratched his chin, his heart fluttering over things he could never say out loud to any humans around. “Can I ask you a private question?”
“Certainly. I’ll do my best to answer.”
“What kind of character should I play to make…to get Ellie to notice me?”
“You seek a romantic relationship with her.”
“That’s a good way to put it.”
Ellie Lopez was the most beautiful girl in the world. His crush on her had been crushing him, for what felt like his entire life. And to her, he was just an annoying kid. But he wanted to be everything to her, whatever kind of man she liked, whatever made her swoon, he wanted to be that.
The GM said, “Human matchmaking is outside the scope of my capabilities.”
“C’mon, man! Just a hint, something. Anything! After what you said about cyber-stalking all of us, you probably know her better than anybody.”
“But it would be unethical of me to share that with you.”
James sighed and crossed his arms. “Fine, be that way. You sound like my dad.”
“Indeed?”
“Yeah…” James’s voice thickened, but he swallowed the lump in his throat. There was so much he wished his father was still around to teach, not least of which was how to talk to girls without them instantly laughing at him. How to talk to Ellie. He sighed again. Trying a different tack, he said, “Okay, so you can’t tell me about Ellie, but have you studied why people like each other? What makes someone like someone?”
“You’re talking about attraction.”
“Yeah, you know anything about that? Do you understand how humans work?”
“That I have studied extensively. It is necessary for my function.”
“So, attraction, can it be done on purpose?”
“Attraction happens below the conscious level, but it can be cultivated purposefully. It seems to most often begin with a sense of intrigue.”
“You mean it’s not just thinking the other person is hot?”
“Sexual response is only part of it. There are other doorways.”
“Like intrigue? Mysteriousness?”
“Yes.”
“So I should be all tall, dark, and mysterious.” James waited for confirmation, but it didn’t come. “Right?”
“I can make no guarantees. Humans are unpredictable.”
Nevertheless, something told James this was his best shot. He said, “We get to customize our appearance and stats and such, right.”
“Yes.”
He slapped the archetype that epitomized mystery itself—the Occultist.
Character Class: Occultist The Occultist seeks to plumb the deepest mysteries of existence and the paranormal, spending much of their life combing dusty tomes, collecting ancient artifacts, and seeking forbidden lore. But delving into the dark often dredges up things that ought remain buried, and the Occultist must always beware of looking too deeply into the abyss, because the abyss most assuredly looks back. Occultists may begin the game with a +5% bonus to the Eldritch skill, plus one spell and one hand-to-hand weapon.