CHAPTER I: RPGCON
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{06:09 ZULU TIME 1ST JANUARY 1ME
22:09 LOCAL TIME 31ST DECEMBER 2038AD}
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LONG BEACH
SUGAR
Brittney N Sugar or Sugar for short, was a gamer...is a gamer, not just any gamer, she was a pro gamer. Not one that dressed up sexy for clicks, though she would shamelessly do that when she was low on funds from time to time. This wasn’t one of those times she had chosen to dress warmly, in a cotton witch outfit with an attached hat. She had thought that was a good idea since she couldn’t lose it easily. However when she got transported to this goddamn place, it was so cold, and she thought it was an even better idea, spoiler alert, it wasn’t. It had only given the mobs more fabric to grab onto, plus she was in her best lingerie under the outfit because she had a date afterward, so taking off the outfit was out of the question. But she genuinely loved video games, and the ability to enter a new world with epic wonders, thought-provoking stories, and magical creatures.
All of that love was lost after she saw the first human getting his face eaten off by a zombie. She had been running ever since. She refused to look back her father didn’t raise no fool, and her mother would be proud of her survival instincts. Hell, she was proud of her-
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< SKILL LEVEL UP >
{Danger sense is now Student 4}
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She had thrown herself on the ground when she got skill level. A zombie lunged right where her head would have been if she hadn’t dodged, She had enough Mana for one attack she wasn’t going to miss it. The ghouls were only fast when they used their lunge spell or ability, and she had been waiting for one to try her like this.
Her grandma’s son didn’t raise a quitter either, “Earth Bolt!” She yelled the activation word for her Class Spell. At point-blank range it was damn near impossible to get out of the way and Sugar’s Mana-based attack. The monster's face peeled away from the share power of the spell. Unfortunately for Sugar, it wasn’t enough damage to kill it instantly, and worst it seemed unfazed. Her Mana depleted she readied herself to run again, but her legs just wouldn’t listen anymore. She was tired, exhausted really. So when the monster started to slowly regenerate the damage she had already done she had lost most of her will to live.
There was a flash of light a few hundred meters from her in the dark parking lot that grabbed her attention and was just enough to give her hope. She ran that direction on wary legs looking for more survivors, not that the other survivors had helped her so far, they were dead, and she was still running. But hope was sometimes all you need to push you as a person, and for Sugar, it got her moving. She rushed to the new commotion in the Dungeon.
***
LONG BEACH
A FEW MOMENTS EARLY
Two men seem to appear out of no way in a dark dank parking lot. One was a black man in forest green camouflage fatigues, with a black full bird Army colonel insignia stitched into the lapel. He looked around as the bile in his stomach started to churn. The other man Soto, was a pale-skinned Puerto Rican male in a ninja outfit, with black timberland boots, and a black Yankee fitted cap. They both read the game prompts that popped up when they arrived.
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< YOU HAVE ENTERED A PLATINUM MANA ZONE >
< WELCOME TO THE ROUGE DUNGEON EXTINCTION >
{Dungeon Mode is Quest/Horde}
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< CURSE ADDED >
{CURSE NAME: Scourge of the Undead
CURSE TYPE: Physical/Death
CURSE LEVEL: 5
DESCRIPTION: Scourge of the Undead is a curse that slowly levels over time, or as more undead are assimilated into the local area. As the curse levels the more the adverse reaction effect living beings in its sphere of influence. The Scourge also levels the highest level death or dark being over time. This being must be killed to end the curse.
Level 1: Allows the recently dead to rise again as undead in 24 hours time under the leader of the scourge. Mana and Health Regen for non dark and Death creatures is reduced by -10%.
Level 2: Allows the recently dead to rise again as undead in 18 hours time under the leader of the scourge. Mana and Health Regen for non dark and Death creatures is reduced by -25%.
Level 3: Allows the recently dead to rise again as undead in 6 hours time under the leader of the scourge.Mana and Health Regen for non dark and Death creatures is reduced by -40%. The skies stay darker longer, and the sun doesn’t have as harsh of an effect on the undead.
Level 4: Allows the recently dead to rise again as undead in 1 hour time under the leader of the scourge. Mana and Health Regen for non dark and Death creatures is reduced by -55%. Day time is now set from 9am-3pm
Level 5: Allows the recently dead to rise again as undead in 1 minute time under the leader of the scourge. Mana and Health Regen for non dark and Death creatures is reduced by -75%. Forever night. Fire burns slightly weaker. Light is slightly weakened.
< NOTE >
{The Curse information does not show up on your Character Sheet. Pay attention to your POOLS in real time.}
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The words came and faded away, Colonel paying them no attention because he was on his hands and knees, emptying the contents of his stomach. Soto was on the ground right next to him doing the exact same thing.
They were in a large dark parking lot surrounded by abandoned cars, homeless tents and homeless belongs. It looked like a homeless camp of some kind, one set up during the pandemic to help contain the spread of Dust among the homeless population. Overfilled trash cans were everywhere providing shadows for anything to hide in, a few of those trash cans were on fire providing an unnatural light.
An eerie-looking church stood outside of the homeless camp giving off a dark feeling that would have sent shivers up the two men's spines if they weren’t too busy vomiting. It looked close, but like a massive mountain, it was further away than it looked.
The homeless camp was mostly lit by campfires in old oil drums, leaving huge shadows that were cast from the noticeably dimmer fire light. The distinct lack of homeless people made the whole area look like it was just abandoned. The parking lot lights were all dead, and warped as if they were all rotting, Colonel couldn’t understand how metal could look rotted, but he rolled with it. ‘It's just a game aesthetic.’ He thought.
The stars were majestic, the sky looked like they were at sea with no light pollution. The bulge of the galaxy was in full view. The light pollution that usually permeated the night sky of LA County was just gone, and Colonel instantly knew that the power grid was down everywhere for miles. Clouds were gone too, the sky had never been this pristine before in his life. The moon looked massive in the east. Its blue-white light shines across the homeless camp, leaving behind long dangerous-looking shadows that seem to run straight to the huge church. The church itself rejected the light as if running from it.
Colonel looked up to big bold golden words floating in the air in front of his vision.
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{WELCOME TO THE GREAT GAME!
LIVE WELL or DIE FREE
Let the game begin!}
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The letters faded away from sight as Colonel started to stand, scanning the area critically, and calmly. He started to look for cover, and defendable positions, falling back on his ingrained training.
Soto on the other hand jumped up and started yelling at the sky startling Colonel. As he clearly had forgotten his training.
“What the heck is up with the pain, and nausea settings in this freaking game Admin?! There is no menu to change it either. What the HELL mo!” Soto yelled queasy holding back another vomit session. “I felt like my whole body was torn apart, and put back together by some ill-advised Spanish Harlem basement BBL doctor.” He grabbed his mouth suddenly looking at Colonel with wide eyes before vomiting through the spaces in his finger at Colonel, the chunks of undigested fluffy waffles hitting him in the chest and neck.
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< ALERT >
{DEBUFF ADDED: You are nauseous!}
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Colonel threw up again.
***
03:55 LOCAL TIME 31 DEC 2038AD
12 HOURS before The Breaking
HOLLYWOOD CA
COLONEL & CLYDE
A large, loft-style studio that was super simple, basic, and clean. Everything was put away neatly, and orderly. The bottom floor was lit by a large digital clock and the light from outside the slightly opened blinds.
A few photos of two soldiers, one Hispanic with a Puerto Rican flag, the other Black with a Trinidadian flag around their shoulders stood in front of half-broken-down statues in different war-torn cities.
Weapons of all types were on his walls. From ancient Japanese blades to muskets, and more modern weapons. Even with all of the antiques, the off-white walls looked blank and bland because of the lack of other decorations, and color.
Two fully dressed Army uniforms were displayed on suit racks. One Class A uniform(Military Ball outfit) with all his awards, and his silver rank of Full Bird Colonel on the shoulders lapel. His award rack was ridiculous, almost as if he was some shitty war-mongering dictator, but they all were earned, most he wish he hadn’t. The second uniform was a top-of-the-line digital camouflage that seemed to become more transparent as the light from outside touched it. It was his final uniform from the JTF, a little glimpse into the future of combat clothing.
Pictures of the black colonel shaking hands with different presidents, wearing his class As, and rebel leaders wearing basic camouflage uniforms in different pictures were also scattered about the room.
Upstairs in the loft was a picture frame of the Colonel with a little curly-haired, mahogany-skinned girl at an airport. Both with huge smiles on their faces as she looked up at him with wonder, and excitement in her bright brown shiny innocent eyes.
‘GIRL DAD’
Is printed on the frame. That picture sat on the nightstand next to a big picture frame of a huge family reunion picture. The frame is full of people, over fifty in it including the two soldiers in the middle, the not-so-little girl, and grown cousins. On the bottom of the big picture was a location stamp in gold...
‘MARACAS BAY TRINIDAD & TOBAGO’
CLYDE “COLONEL” JACOB was written on a golden Joint Task Force(JTF) retirement plaque, that sat on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. At the bottom of it states.
‘The Rank of Full bird Colonel is retired with you, sir! Always our Leader.
Thanks for telling us what being human is.’
JTF Command Port of Spain, Trinidad & Tobago W.I.
The bed in question had a late forties-looking black man, which probably meant he was closer to sixty(Black not cracking and what not.). He was clean-shaven, with a high and tight haircut, and very little gray hair showing at his temples.
He slept restlessly, as the sounds of war played in his dreams and nightmares.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
“What do you mean my brother is dead? We won, he said we won!” Clyde’s screaming voice is heard in his sleep.
“Calm down Colonel we need you calm.” Another voice this one tinged with a thick Trini accent said trying to calm him down.
“Roger if you don’t get the hell out of my way I will... Where is my brother?” Colonel's voice cried.
“He couldn’t be retrieved.” Another person said.
A loud smack of a desk, and a scuffle “I quit! Truth and Trust, my ass Roger I can’t be a part of this farce anymore, now that it took my favorite brother.”
Smack!
“I don’t care how angry you are Clyde we are still family. Don’t take that out on Roger, and don’t be ugly to your brother because he can’t give you information Andre himself said you couldn’t have.”
“I still quit. I’ll do the dog and pony show, then I am out. I am Clyde from today on, I am Colonel no more.”
The sheets were disheveled and wet with sweat. The sweat beads ran across the many cuts on the black skin of Clyde’s chisel body. The body he had worked on every day of his adult life. It made him look like a fitness freak. There were other cuts, these were scars that tell a different story. His body was made and maintained for maximum efficiency when accomplishing any obstacle that was placed in front of him, and many were in his long life.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Still, even if his body was ready to fight the battle, that didn’t mean his mind was up for the war. Most human beings will live their lives without taking a human life. Colonel was not one of those humans. Ever since he was the age seventeen his adopted country had been in some type of conflict that had required his special brand of skills. Skills that started with having a disciplined, retired, military father, that pushed him at an early age. Those skills synergized well with the Army when his father died, and he wanted to follow in his footsteps. His adopted country was attacked and needed help.
He never hesitated to answer the call, and never would, but on nights like these, he wished he had let the phone ring. Or had sent Uncle Sam to voicemail. Clyde was a dreamer that got caught up in patriotism, and the next battle. For years he was defined by it. It is why he even thought of himself as his rank more than his name ‘Colonel’ is who he truly was in a lot of ways.
But Clyde had started a new life. He knew better than to forget the lessons of his past, but he was a storyteller now, and an award-winning one at that.
On his nightstand next to his golden plaque was a pair of oversized, clear glasses. They lit up at Clyde’s PTSD nightmare thrashing. The bed started to shake, the glasses BEEP, and displayed a count down.
[10 seconds...]
[9...]
When it reached 0, the bed stopped shaking, and Clyde opened his eyes alert. He breathe heavily trying to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he calmed himself. “P.A.R. Turn off alarm.” He moaned softly, but the alarm kept blaring, loudly.
“PAR, I’m not playing with you, you heard me.” He added seriously.
The bed settled back down, and the beeping stopped. He sighed. An electronic voice spoke through speakers in glasses as well as speakers throughout his studio apartment. The words were also displayed in the glasses.
[Personal Augmented Reality standing by.] PAR’s electronic voice said.
Clyde sat up and removed his blanket, he and it was covered in sweat. He looked down at himself. “FUBAR.” He groaned, his sheets and his pajama pants were soaked as well, if he wore underwear while he slept they would be soaked too, Clyde ripped off the sheets, and began to make his bed with military precision. “PAR.” He started talking out loud. “Lights, early morning shower setup, please,” Colonel said while making his bed in the dark. The PAR beeped acknowledging him. Blue lights turn on making everything that was yellow, or gold in the room glow florissant. On Colonel’s back was a massive glowing dark tattoo of massive flaming wings with his Colonel rank in the middle. He tightened the top blanket and sheet, making hospital corners, and perfect one-foot fold. Then he fluffed his pillows and fit them in easily above the fold. He stood up and looked at his handy work. His lips slightly turn up as he completes a job well done.
***
7 HOURS AGO
HOLLYWOOD CA
CLYDE & COLONEL
After his shower, morning stretch, and calisthenics he went for an early morning run. As he ran and everything around him blurred, he thought about New Year's Eve, and how it was always tough for Clyde since his brother Andre died on their last mission together. His best friend Soto was also pretty messed up on that same mission. So this time of year always made him a little depressed.
His running app chimed cutting off his wondering thoughts, “You have completed your run, distance 13.12 miles, time 59 minutes 50 seconds. Colonel stopped running and was covered in a light layer of sweat, his mind caught up with his body just then, and he started to breathe heavily.
“What the hell?” Clyde pulled out his phone to look at the app. When he saw a new message it made him smile instead and reminded him of why he got his work done early this weekend.
[From ARMY BROTHER SOTO: Yo Colonel I just landed, and we going to that RPGCON in Long Beach, I know you forgot. You know old age will have you losing your memory lol.]
He did forget, “That's why I finished everything early, writing-wise, at least.” He thought out loud. “And that's why friends should know your friends.” Clyde smiled, and text back a reply.
[From COLONEL: Hell yeah I forgot, and also hoped you weren’t coming lol. I don’t feel like geeking out this weekend. But when The Bronx comes to town, we do what The Bronx wants to do.]
He sent the message just as he walked up to the front of his condo complex.
[REPLY SOTO: UPTOWN BABY! See you in 45, I got to get my bags, hooah!]
[REPLY COLONEL: Hooah!]
[REPLY COLONEL: Wait bags?]
[You’re... breaking up...]
Colonel rolled his eyes and put away his phone. Steam bellowed off of his head as he removed his hood. He took in a deep breath, after deep breath. “I am the creator of my reality. I am a warrior, a warrior can be kind, they can be gentle, but they cannot be lazy. I will conquer my own obstacles. I will protect humanity.” He said his mantra thirteen times.
Feeling better, he stretched, cooling down his muscles. Starting with his upper body, the tension was slowly released from his from his arms, neck, upper back, and shoulders. After a few twists, that Hollywood fitness warriors who were running by him were impressed by, he sat down and stretched his legs. The cold had his hands ashy and dry. “Ugh, PAR add lotion to the shopping list please.” Both his phone and watch chimed.
His legs were really sore and super tight. After a comprehensive hamstring stretch, he had to do his quads individually, each of them burned with lactic acid. Finally, he sat in the lotus position and stretched his groin. “I am the creator of my reality. I am a warrior, a warrior can be kind, they can be gentle, but they cannot be lazy. I will conquer my own obstacles. I will protect humanity.” He kept saying his mantra.
Just as he hit his lowest level of enlightenment, his phone vibrated, Colonel’s eyebrow twitched, but he ignored it sitting on the grass in front of his condo complex in the lotus position. An obnoxiously long vibration caused Colonel’s left eye to open, and he looked down at the somehow still vibrating phone.
It stopped, quiet, and serene peace returning. ‘Come to think of it my phone was supposed to be on do not disturb outside of D, M, or Lisa.’ He shook off the thoughts. “I am the creator of my reality. I am a warrior, a warrior can be kind, they can be gentle, but they cannot be lazy. I will conquer my own obstacles. I will protect humanity.” His center returned, peace at last... A ring tone of DMX’s ‘X goin’ give it to you,’ started to blast on his phone startling the joggers, and speed walkers. Colonel frowned, “When the hell did he change my ringtone for him?” He picked up his phone to a text message.
[FROM SOTO: Do you even know what airport I am at?]
Clyde thought about it.
[COLONEL: LAX?]
[SOTO: Burbank, good thing I said something. Lol]
[COLONEL: Word, no doubt I would have been livid. You would have to ride share at that point.]
[SOTO: Facts, see you in a bit. We are getting Roscoe’s chicken and waffles for sure!]
[COLONEL: Hooah, I am going to jump in the shower now.]
[SOTO: Roger that Colonel, out]
Clyde was really happy about the distraction this New Year’s Eve. He was going to spend the weekend being Colonel again, just a good friend and former boss not the broken man Clyde would have been if his Sergeant Major didn’t come to visit him.
***
LOS ANGELES
6 HOURS BEFORE THE BREAKING
CLYDE & SOTO
A keypad to Clyde’s apartment turned green, and Soto, whose short black hair was freshly cut with a neatly lined up beard walked in, he looked like he was ready for some south Bronx club. He watched Clyde his best friend trailing him with a shit-eating grin. Clyde ignored him. Soto was dressed in an outfit consisting of a white t-shirt, covered by a Kobe Bryant number eight throwback jersey, gray baggy cargo sweat pants, a classic pair of Jordan tens, and last but not least, a Yankee fitted cap backward, finishing a story as he walked in. “And then AJ thought it would be a good idea to try and get it off his head by himself. Needless to say, he almost choked himself to death with his own pillow. That boy is going to be the death of me, bro. He’s twenty-five year old, and don’t know how to do anything, for real.” Soto said with a thick New York accent.
Clyde chuckled, “Him and DJ are on the same team now though right?”
“Yeah hopefully DJ can rub off on him because that kid is sharp as hell, Your brother did a really good job,” Soto said as Clyde walked around him into the apartment, with two massive luggage bags, and a take-out bag from Roscoe’s chicken and waffles. Soto took out an inhaler, and pumped it a couple of times into his mouth, smiling at the apartment. It's dark, but he can already make out some of the cool stuff on the wall. Weapons of all kinds, old and ancient were mounted to the wall. There were even two suit racks with Clyde’s old uniforms fully kitted out draped over the racks. “You done good for yourself kid, real good. Can I get some dough though, mr ATM?” He smirked, “I’m messing with you... Or am I? You do still owe me for that Bitcoin tip in O nine Jake. Did you ever remember that password by the way?”
Clyde rolled his eyes, and thought ‘No’ he was still sour about having over ten thousand bitcoin in a wallet he had no access to because he couldn’t even remember the password, it was a very sour subject. “PAR open the blinds.” He said, then braced for Soto’s Bronx snark. The sunlight started to immediately filter in as the blinds slowly opened. The oversized pair of glasses on his nightstand lit up acknowledging him.
“Ohhhhhhhhh fancy Jake. All my streamers will love to see how an actual P.A.R. works. You know they are hard as hell to get, they only sell commercial versions, and the prices are mad expensive.” He said with a little too much excitement to the first and disappointment to the second part.
Clyde shook his head. “First, I signed an NDA from the MG Corp, can’t even talk about it, on the record.” Clyde tried to shut his friend’s line of thinking down as quickly as he could. “Secondly, no one calls me Jake, or Jacob out here, Clyde is better.”
Soto stared at him with a smile, evidently unfazed. “So off the record Jake.” He looked at the nightstand where the PAR headset sat. “Besides, the kids at my alumna mater, ‘The Bronx High School of Science,’ will be the first high school in the nation, to get them for every student.” He laughed “Back in my day, we would have just jumped them and snatched their stuff. We would have had M-mob all decked out in PARs.” He shook his head ruefully, “I’m glad it's better than when I was a kid. That being said there will be a bunch of them little Nino’s that will get robbed anyway. Humans, am I right?” He chuckled sadly.
“At least it won’t be a duster attack,” Colonel said souring the mood. ‘Why did I say that?’ He thought quickly, his mind was foggy from a nightmare-filled night, and a building pressure in the world around him that had been giving him a mild migraine, and aggravating his TBI for the last week. He wanted to just lay down close his eyes, and sleep the new year away, he hated this day anyway, it always brought back the worst of his memories. Today was the day that Clyde had lost his twin brother in combat.
Soto seemingly unaware of his former commanding officer’s inner turmoil pushed through the awkwardness. “Yeah, the pandemic hit the Bronx hard bro. Seeing our people fighting each other over misinformation, the witch hunting, we were already weary of our neighbors, but when family members' heads started exploding over the holiday ham and flan, forget about it, we all panicked.” He sighed sadly. “Fear man, it affects us all, but those who are always in survival mode, like those in poverty, where one decision was the difference between, feeding your family or being homeless, they are affected the most.”
“How is the family?” Clyde asked not so subtly getting away from a subject he wasn’t even ready to address. Neither of them were, they had seen the worse of humanity in their war times, but they also knew that humans could also be more terrible in peace times.
Soto let him change the subject knowing that he had lost family members to this pandemic. Namely, his twin brother, Clyde may not know it, but Soto was here to support his battle buddy on this day and would be there every year on this day until Clyde was ready to address it. “Surprisingly well, you know Florida, one day we all hate each other, the next day we fishing, hunting, or camping together. It's humanity at its best, and worst.” He looked at Clyde conspiratorially, “I think all of the girls in the family made some weird deal, or pack to get pregnant together, so I’m going to be a grandfather three times over in like five or six months timeframe, Ya, exciting.” Soto said the last part decidedly not excited. “UGH.”
“You really don’t like your son-in-law, do you? I mean to be fair, who would love anyone who was bonking our daughters, but you really don’t like them, do you? Why?” Colonel was genuinely curious, as well as ready for a normal life distraction.
“I thought they would go after guys more like me, or even you, but they have their mothers’ terrible taste in men, before me of course.”
“Of course.” Clyde deadpanned.
Soto laughed hard before a hacking cough stopped him. He pulled out his inhaler.
“What did the VA say about that? You never told me.” Clyde asked with concern, because the last time they were together, it wasn’t this bad. But Soto was great at hiding his pain. Clyde knew a thing or two about that also.
“They don’t know, so I was put on the Enlightened list, but it's the VA. I might die before I am seen by an Enlightened doctor, but I am glad I got on the list at least.” Soto answered.
“The VA has Enlightened on staff now? I thought they would be owning an island somewhere.” Clyde jest.
Clyde had found out about a lot more about the Enlightened after his twin brother died and the family secrets came out. Secrets that he was still processing even now three years later. He was looking forward to getting more answers when he saw his family again, he was ready...
Soto laughed, “Yeah not all of them are money-hungry animals, just most of them. Doesn’t Trinidad and Tobago have the highest concentration of enlightened, I haven’t heard of too many greedy Trinidadians so far.
Clyde nodded proudly. “We technically had a head start so we should. But we usually put most of our resources into the JTF. So I’m just surprised the government would splurge for the Enlightened.” The Enlightened was the official name of a person who was infected with the Micro Anaerobic Neural Advancement formula, or MANA commonly called Dust because, in its base form, it looked like a particle-filled gaseous substance.
“Together we aspire,” Soto does a made-up salute, he places his right-hand parallel to the ground, and then makes a T with his left hand under his right over his heart. Clyde shook his head and returned it.
“Together we achieve.” They do their special handshake which simply ends in an exploding fist bump.
“You have to watch the news more man, or at least get on social media again. With the boosters, more Enlightened have joined the workforce in the last year, the number we thought we knew went out of the window. Almost fifty percent of all veterans, in the US at least were dusters, so naturally, we all need an Enlightened doctor to help.” He finished with a puff on his inhaler. “Jake I really have a good feeling about next year man, its going to be awesome, the games coming out, the fact that the boosters are working. You know me I was skeptical as hell. I still can get over the Tuskegee experiment. That went on for fifty years bro. Seven presidents just let that happen on their watch, and one of them was in office for over ten years. I have to make sure something is tested before I try it, and even then I don’t know if I can trust the test anymore really.”
Clyde nodded. “Bro you put more sugar in your body than any sane person should, ever and you are complaining about a shot that was researched for almost a decade.”
“Sugar has been around for centuries so yes,” Soto said
“High fructose corn syrup?” Colonel countered.
“Yeah that will be the death of me, I like that synthetic stuff way too much. Add that to all the protein and creatine and I’ll probably be dead in s few years.”
Clyde laughed.
They sat on the couch. “Oh right, all of my girls caught their husbands with other men...” Soto had a pleading look on his face, the message was clear ‘Please do make me elaborate.’
“Like...” Clyde stammered.
“Yep.”
“Damn, cheating sucks bro,” Clyde said sadly.
“Oh this was before they dated, or while they weren’t together. Or something like that.” Soto shrugged and chuckled sadly.
“Oh...OH!” Clyde’s eyebrows rose.
“Yeah.” Soto sighed.
“Well to each their own, right?” Clyde said seriously looking at his friend. “Our understanding isn’t always required bro, but our support is always welcomed, right? There is no right way to parent, but there is a whole lot of wrong ways.” He smiled encouragingly.
“Yeah, ingrained upbringing is hard to break, so I am getting over it slowly. I just don’t want my girls hurt you feel me? I don’t think it matters who they leave them for male or female. I just think that bisexuals have a much bigger pool, plus my girls are kind of annoying.” He laughed at his candor. “Well that was a Freudian slip, I have been reading your books as you can see.”
Clyde couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Soto’s intelligence was never in question, but his way of speaking had thrown many people off. “Layla is an angel, Alena is an artist like you, but in a different way. Your art is more, objective, hers is more subjective, and Ava is a free spirit, so yeah, I don’t see them judging people as harshly, and as unfairly as our parent’s generation.” Clyde said, “We did good... well, you did good.” He hesitated, looking at a photo on his nightstand. “The jury is still out on me.” He smiled sadly at the picture.
Soto eyed Clyde. “I am not going to forget about the PAR because we are swapping sad stories now. I am not that high. To be fair, I’m not high at all actually. On life maybe, because it's RPG CON dude!” He smiled mischievously using his best stoner voice, before hitting his inhaler again after a coughing fit. “NOW IS RPG time!” He yelled again with a lot less enthusiasm.
Clyde ignored him and dragged one of the bags into the living room. “Bruh, you are here for one weekend, why do have so much...” Clyde pointed at both oversized suitcases. “Crap...” his brow furrowed.
“RPGCON Dude!” Soto said opening the other bag. He started to pull out different types of cosplay outfits. From cyberpunk style, to anime, and video game characters. His smile growing bigger with every outfit, and each puff of his inhaler. “Let me tell you something, let me tell you SOMETHING, I had to go to the airport early, and you know how I hate waking up early, to get these puppies through.”
Clyde nodded knowingly.
“I knew some of my bags would have red flags on them.” He laughed at himself.
“Some?”
“Yeah, some...okay all.” he relented.
Clyde deadpanned at him the entire time. “I’m not wearing any of...” Clyde started
“RPGCON Dude!” Soto yelled excitedly then puffed his inhaler.
Clyde shook his head ruefully. “You are the weirdest Puerto Rican from the Bronx I have ever met. You know that right? Absolutely, the weirdest.” He said with a grin. “Weird as hell.”
“One, to be fair, all of the Puerto Ricans you know, are my family or met because of my family. I wouldn’t use them as a measuring tape for the typical Puerto Rican person. We are more New York Ricans. Two, like black people, all Hispanics aren’t monolithic, S.A.T word of the day. Three, who the hell wants to be normal? Seriously, who? Thats boring... Life is meant to be lived not watched, and let it pass you by, on the proverbial couch of despair.” Soto clapped back, smugly grinning the whole time. “I have been reading your books a lot lately. Do you like that? The proverbial couch of despair thing.”
“Touché.”
“Bless you!”
Clyde deadpan. “How are we friends? You know what? Don’t answer that, I know exactly what you're going to say.” But Clyde also knew he was going to say it anyway.
Soto pat him on his back. “Let's see, I saved your life a bunch of times, like a whole bunch of times, You always got yourself in trouble man, officers, ugh making my life a living hell.” He said the last part sadly and began counting on his fingers. “I taught you how to dress, you didn’t take those lessons well.” He looked at Clyde with disdain in his old worn-out army PTs. “I introduced you to your baby mama, so you can thank me for at least the baby part of that?” He winced at the thought. “Not my fault you have low Luck and Charisma stats homie.” He seemed almost sad to have to break it to Clyde. He puffed his inhaler. Then shook his head sadly again.
Clyde looked up to the ceiling and prayed for strength, The weekend hadn’t even started, and he was already exhausted, he walked over to the kitchen. “I make my own luck, and who needs charisma when you have overwhelming Strength, Speed, and Constitution, oh... and money. Like Batman.” He added while opening the refrigerator. “Water, beer, reefer?” He asked with a smile.
“Yes, no... Abso-fucking-lutely.” Soto answered his face brightening. “Dexterity is what you mean instead of speed, by the way. I won’t have you embarrassing me with bad nomenclature down at the RPGCON Mo. Also, we have to make our Character Sheets for the CON. There are a bunch of table, and Virtual Reality games we might be able to try out.” Soto stated almost giddy. “It will be super lit, well as lit as a bunch of geeks in cosplay talking about Dungeons and Dragons can be.”
Clyde was not nearly as excited as his battle brother was, he tossed him a water bottle, that Soto caught easily. Clyde then lights a pre-roll and takes a long hard drag. His shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension from the morning finally going away, as the medical grade Tetrahydrocannabinol hit helped him control the anxiety of the world around, him and focus more.
‘You can’t control everything, you can control your little world though, and he was going to give his energy to positivity and productivity.’ Those were his father’s words, and he was going to take it to heart.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Colonel said as he blew out the smoke.
“RPGCON...”
“Dude, yeah, I get it. You are excited, but I am not ‘making’ whatever is it you want me to make. Character something.” Clyde said making air quotations and laughing at Soto’s facial expression.
Soto looked at Clyde with incredulity. He puffed the pre-roll a few times. He blew out smoke, then puffed his inhaler. “You know what it is.” He started after a cough matter of fact. “We played dungeons and dragons on every tour in Iraq, with MMOs, and virtual reality games for years. I know you were bad at them, but I also know you know at least the basics.” He took a short pull and then passed the pre-roll back. His eyes narrowed at his old Colonel. “We even played with the kids for years and read all those books on Royal Road. Shit, you write some of those books.”
“Not those types of books. I just write of all the things we went through, but with a supernatural twist so as not to let people know how close we were to actually losing to the pandemic.” Clyde shrugged. “We played dungeons and dragons to pass the time, and boy did it ever pass the time, We would be in those games for hours, missing meals, and having to eat MREs, I didn’t do it for the mechanics, I did it for the story, beyond that, I don’t remember anything much about D&D.” He explained his ignorance.
“The Character Sheet is like the first thing you learn,” Soto said starting to get a little annoyed with his best friend. “Seriously bro, you can’t be this dense.” Soto threw his hands up exasperated.
“Likely why I forgot it,” Clyde said with a smirk, enjoying messing with his old friend. Soto was somewhat right, what he didn’t know was that most of the roleplaying and game elements in his books came from his editor, not him. Clyde was mostly about telling more diverse stories and building massive worlds, worlds that other people could expand upon eventually. Clyde’s new dream was to make a cinematic universe. Like the Star Wars, Star Trek, or DCEU. He had always loved comics, and once he saw The Flashpoint Movie, it changed him from a Marvel fan to a DC guy. He wanted that, needed it in his life. A universe so big, and diverse that anyone can tell stories within it, even when they seemingly don’t have any connection. They were connected through his universe.
“Dude!” Clyde was pulled out of his future musings by Soto who was rubbing his face. “We are making character sheets. Its. For. the...”
“CON, I, get it. Here’s the deal, I’ll make it simple, I’m not making a character Sheet. Firstly we don’t have time I am starving, can we just eat? I didn’t sleep well last night, so I need to take a nap ASAP. We have to leave in like a few hours, so I won’t be participating in that level of geekery. No, thank you.” He opens his take-out box and takes a bite of his waffle. Then pour syrup all over it. The action caused Soto to open his, and do the same thing.
With his mouth full Soto added, “Is geekery a word?” The mixture of chicken, waffles, and syrup made him involuntarily moan in ecstasy.
“It's good right.” Clyde ate more and drank some water. “Also,” He started, still chewing he pointed at the suitcases. “I am absolutely, without a doubt, not wearing any of those...”