SO! I'm back on this fiction folks, I just don't know for how long. I finished this chapter, and guess what? Real life interaction! I had complaints about that in my last fiction, so I don't plan to make the same mistake. Please leave a comment! I deleted the original so this would go to the home page as a new chapter. Please enjoy and leave a comment!
“What are you then?” Alistair asked keeping his voice as level as possible and purging any hint of hesitation. Acting required one to maintain their composure on stage, or under camera. Alistair had become quite good at quickly transferring to that state of mind. Thus, in front of another entity, he was just playing the role of the level headed person. In reality, who wouldn’t be scared of a stuffed bunny drenched in blood? It was the perfect combination of gore and something lovable. It created an aura of unnaturalness that instills an uneasiness, and therefore, leaves one’s heart defenseless against fear. However, the mask came in handy in this time. There were no facial expressions to be seen. All that could be heard was his cool and level voice.
The stuffed rabbit drenched in blood tilted it head again.
‘Well… if I had to say… I’m a rabbit?’ it said in a flippant tone.
The stuffed bunny bent over and tottered to its feet. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t sitting in a pool of blood.
‘But more importantly, I can kill you.’ This time it spoke in a deadly serious tone that was unfitting for its childish design. It looked at him with those empty black bead eyes and then jumped off the tree. It slid down the dismembered tail of the satyr demon and landed on the ground. It used its cute little paws to brush itself off.
“Let me confirm something really quickly” The little stuffed toy said “Are you one of the descendants of Grimm?”
Alistair’s eyes widened at this, not that anyone could see. A descendant of Grimm is what the NPC’s called the players. Being able to tell the difference between an NPC and a player wasn’t hard, but Alistair was amazed that this rabbit could make the discernment when he had shown no action that would differentiate him from an NPC.
“Yes I am one of the Noble descendants of Grimm.” Replied Alistair with an air of dignity.
“Yes I could tell… The Dealer’s Mask is stuck to your face after all. Well then, allow me to introduce myself.” The little rabbit did a low bow.
The little rabbit began to change and distort. Its legs became longer ad structured like that of a human’s. The body elongated and also began to look like a human. His face flattened and also became like a human’s with shoulder length white hair.
After his transformation was complete a man stood before him. He was dressed in a decently nice white suit. The shirt that was under it was Blood red and he had a white tie. He had a young face, maybe in his 30s, that was framed with his white hair that came to his shoulders. Hanging out of his suit coat pocket was a massive golden watch. The most interesting feature was the foot long bunny ears that protruded from his head and the puffy white tail that protruded from his coat.
“I am Twyr, the White Rabbit. And you Grimm’s Descendant are the protagonist of the story.”
Alistair was baffled. The NPC’s weren’t supposed to be aware of how the Stories worked.
‘Just who is this person…’ Alistair thought warily as he looked at the one who called himself Twyr. The strangely well-dressed man, rabbit, whatever he was, wore a wide grin on his face. Alistair was baffled by the behavior of this character.
Alistair’s bafflement turned immediately to suspicion and caution. It was quite improbable for him to meet a NPC that was knowledgeable of the Stories’ functions in his first day when the 4 million other players hadn’t encountered one in the 3 months since Grimm’s World had come online. Assuming that each player spent on average, 6 hours real time (which correlates to 24 hours game time) a real day, then that means that there had been 336 million hours played among all the other players. All those hours of gameplay, and Alistair had found one in 8 in game time. Faced with that insurmountable statistic, Alistair came to the practical conclusion that the entity that was standing before him was not a NPC.
However, no matter how small the chance was, if it was, in fact, and NPC and Alistair acted like it was a human, the rare opportunity of being the protagonist in one of the sought after Stories would be lost. This would be an extremely stupid loss. Thus, to eradicate that small amount of chance that Twyr may of, in fact, be the first to find an NPC conscious of the Story mechanics, he said nine simple words. Nine simple words that will always, without fail, provoke a response from a civilized human. The nine words that a president once said were the scariest in the human language.
“I’m from the government and I’m here to help.” Said Alistair in a friendly, but serious voice. The unfeeling appearance of the mask complemented this phrase. The inflection in his voice portrayed friendliness, but there was an underlying confidence within this phrase, as if he believed what he was doing was right.
Twyr responded simply by tilting his head with an expression of confusion. All of the NPC’s were based on real body language and expressions. The production company, Green Pegasus, kept concealed how they obtained that level of realism, however, the actions and mannerisms of the NPC’s were identical to a human’s response, unless there was interference from a skill. Thus, Alistair was confident in his real world skills of reading a person like a book.
Relief flooded Alistair’s body as he confirmed that this was only a NPC, an entity that did not know of him outside of the game. If it was a real person, things could get very messy. Most people crave it; however, when people obtain it, they find it prohibits them from living their life as they had. Alistair had to endure hate, love, and obsession from nearly everyone he met. If there was a group that was apathetic about him, he had yet to meet them.
Alistair was about to open his mouth to continue his conversation when he heard a voice. It wasn’t the voice of the flippant, murder rabbit, nor was it the voice of the mask. It was a feminine voice.
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“Drew! Where are you?”
Alistair shook his head. He recognized the voice. He had been hearing it since he was 4 after all. The voice of his childhood friend. The voice that spoke to him with genuine emotions, no ulterior motives. The beautiful voice of the only person he trusted and could show his real emotions.
“Drew! You get out of that capsule right now! We made an agreement that we would only play for five hours at a time!”
The nagging voice of one who worried over him like a sibling. How could he forget its owner? It was none other than Myra.
Alistair was about to ignore her and finish up his conversation; however, her next comment made him turn pale under his mask.
“If you don’t come out, I really will pull out the plug!”
Alistair quickly turned to Twyr and said
“I must go, urgent matters to attend to!” He said as he logged out. His body dispersed into numerous particles of light that faded out into the darkness. However, the white mask stayed as it was and fell to the ground.
Twyr bent down and picked up the mask. As he did, the same wicked, mouth filled with those sharp teeth reappeared.
“Twyr.” The mouth said as it jerkily opened and closed as Twyr listened attentively in awe, “Listen carefully, I want you to –“
*Real World*
Drew opened the capsule with a gasp, and looked around frantically.
“Don’t DO IT!” he exclaimed as he sat up quickly and looked around the room. His eyes laid themselves upon Myra, who was standing casually in the door way with her hands on her hips.
“Bout time you came out. I was about to repay you for the embarrassment.” She said with a pout upon her lips.
“What would be so urgent that you would threaten to yank the power cord?” Drew asked with a knowing smile.
“Well, of course I was checking on you! You never have been good with keeping track of time. When you immerse yourself in something, you forget everything else! Geez, pay attention!” Myra said in all sincerity. However, she was forced off her soapbox when her stomach let out a loud rumble.
Drew smiled at this and let out a chuckle.
“I was right! I knew it.”
“Sh-shut up! I can cook for myself perfectly fine! I don’t need you to—“
“Come one Myra, I know when you’re hungry. How long do you think we’ve known each other?” Drew asked as he climbed out of the capsule. “I think I may have some left over steak that I have yet to cook. I’ll treat you to dinner.”
He walked out of his bedroom and past Myra, who was smiling like an angel.
“Oh? How sweet of you. Wait! Is this a sign of affection?”
Drew smiled silently as he was walking towards the kitchen
“Of course. It would be odd if I didn’t show any affection to my little sister!”
Myra stomped into the kitchen as Drew was rummaging around the fridge.
“There you go again with the little sister business! I am not related to you by blood! Why can’t you see me as a woman!?” Myra said melodramatically as she sat down at the kitchen table.
Drew chuckled as he pulled the steak out of the fridge
“Who was the character that said that line? It was the one you were playing in that soap opera last year right?… who was it again?”
“You just love to rub it in my face that I wasn’t selected to be the lead! What about the time you were casted to play the gay skater person!”
Drew shivered, trying to suppress that memory
“…We promised never to talk of that again…”
Thus, their dialogue went on playfully, poking at each other. Some may see a sparkling pink atmosphere around the two.
Drew loved Myra dearly, as a friend of course. He had grown up with her so it would be weird if they were together. She had stuck with him through the good times and bad, always been with him. He had been introduced to Myra at an early age along with two other small children. Myra was the daughter of a very successful actor couple who were good friends with Drew’s actress mother. The other children were the daughters of steel magnates or some politician. Drew didn’t remember them too well, because in his mind, they weren’t important. In his eyes, they had abandoned him. Myra was the only one who had stayed with him. Their relationship was that much deeper for it. However, Myra had turned odd at puberty while Drew stayed the same. They had been entering their acting careers, and Drew had somehow managed to hold her off with his words.
Drew smiled as he seasoned the cold steaks, rubbing them with his long fingers, kneading them. After setting the oven to preheat, he turned on the stove on low, poured olive oil into the pan, and then set the steaks in the pan. The rich smell permeated the room and smiles grew upon both of their faces.
After a time, Drew picked up the pan, steaks and all, and put it in the oven. He set the timer and sat down at the table with Myra, elbows on the table.
Myra smiled a bit absentmindedly and pointed to Drew’s forearm there was a slight discoloration of the skin, and old burn scar that time had partially mended.
“You still have that scar huh? I remember that day well.” Myra smiled
“You were hungry and I went above and beyond and tried to make steak. Actually, it was the same recipe and method I’m using right now!”
“When you went to put the steak in the pan, you accidentally dropped it. The oil splashed up and burned your arm! It was terribly funny.” Myra chuckled haughtily
“If I remember correctly, you cried your eyes out!” Drew poked playfully
“Why is it you remember that, but not the role I played last year!”
“Because seeing you crying your eyes out for my sake is a much more precious memory than seeing you play the role of Brittney Gaol, a loose prostitute. Geez, how did you even get casted for that role? I worry you know. What happens if one of those more violent fans come after you?”
Drew heard the oven timer go off and he turned to go get the steak. With his back turned, he missed the blush that was prominent across Myra’s face.