“I want you all to know I love all you guys, and would take a bullet for you any day of the week,” Harley said. “But also, if I land on another hotel, I am going to stab someone.”

“I told you guys this game was a bad idea,” Vell said. He scooted a little further away from the Monopoly board, to be out of stabbing range.

“I’m winning and I hate this,” Hawke said. He owned the most property by far, and the money hoarding made him feel actual guilt in spite of it being fake money for a fake boardgame.

“In retrospect, it was a bad idea to play a capitalism simulator in present company,” Lee said. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had suggested it, in retrospect. “I’m willing to call this a failed experiment and wrap up before anyone gets stabbed. Hawke, as you are in the lead, you get the privilege of hurling the board off the table and into the trash.”

A privilege Hawke made immediate and boisterous use of. Fake money, plastic hotels, and tiny dog figurines flew through the air as Hawke hurled the friendship-destroying boardgame into the trash. Most of it, at least. A few of the pieces and quite a bit of paper money just scattered across Vell’s dorm room floor, and the little metal top hat piece fell into the cactus pot Lee had gifted him earlier in the year.

“Sorry.”

“I got it,” Vell said. “I needed to sweep anyway.”

“Still, I’ll help-”

“You’ve got early classes tomorrow, Hawke,” Kim said. “I’ll take care of cleanup.”

It took more convincing on Kim’s part, but Hawke relented and let Kim help with the cleanup duty. She took care of sweeping while Vell plucked the top hat out of the cactus, and everyone else left the room.

“So. What’s on your mind?”

“Don’t do that.”

Kim and Vell both had matching runes inscribed on their bodies, and the resonance between the two created an unbreakable connection of sorts. What had started out as a misplaced attraction had been tuned out over time, replaced with a low-level intuition about what the other party was thinking or feeling. They had an unspoken agreement to ignore even that ephemeral thread, an agreement Kim now suspected Vell was breaking. He wasn’t. Even with a digital face, Kim wasn’t that hard to read.

“No connection required. You stop moving your eyes as much when you’re thinking about something,” Vell said. Kim had cameras aimed in every direction, but she usually made the images that represented her eyes point towards whoever was talking. She didn’t do that when she was thinking.

“Right, you’re just absurdly empathetic,” Kim said. “Yeah. I had something I wanted to talk about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well...it’s about Quenay.”

“Oh, okay. Do you, uh, want to have this conversation in the bathroom?”

The lights on Kim’s face changed to simulate a raised eyebrow.

“Vell, why the fuck would I want to have a conversation in your bathroom?”

“Right. Quenay says godly omniscience doesn’t apply to bathrooms. Privacy reasons. I don’t know if you actually, uh, care if she overhears or not.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t. I actually kind of want her to hear something,” Kim said.

“She’s not here right now, FYI,” Vell said. He pointed over his shoulder at empty air where Quenay often floated. Not that Kim would see her either way. The mystery Goddess was never seen if she didn’t want to be seen.

“That’s alright. Just, next time you see her, tell I’d like to talk to her.”

“Will do.”

“Great, thanks,” Kim said. “I appreciate it. Do you mind if I leave now?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Please do, it’s always super awkward hanging out with someone who just asked you for a favor.”

Kim left without another word. The door had barely clicked shut behind her when Quenay appeared above Vell’s shoulder, right where he had been pointing earlier.

“Perfect timing,” Vell said. “Suspiciously perfect.”

“Should’ve tried harder to take it to the bathroom,” Quenay said. She drifted through the air and laid flat on the coffee table that had previously hosted the monopoly board. “You missed a hotel between your couch cushions, by the way.”

Vell reached into the gap between the cushions and found a tiny plastic house. He threw the it away and wondered if Quenay had noticed that by coincidence, or if he had just benefited from the most mundane act of omniscience in history.

“Thanks. So, uh, what do you think about talking to Kim?”

“Not going to happen.”

“Why not? You talked to her once already.”

“When I needed to,” Quenay said. “I don’t need to anymore.”

“And you ‘need’ to talk to me about Jared Leto movies?”

“No. But that’s different,” Quenay said. “That’s completely meaningless, and you know it. Kim won’t. Kim wants meaning.”

“Meaning?”

“Yep.”

Quenay crossed her legs and stared up at Vell’s ceiling with her trademark mismatched eyes.

“Kimmy wants something I can’t give her,” Quenay said. “So it’s better to just not talk to her at all. Simple.”

“Can’t you tell her that yourself?”

“Nope. Have fun, Vell,” Quenay said. “And don’t worry. Kim’s not really the ‘shoot the messenger’ type.”

Quenay rolled off the edge of the coffee table and disappeared, leaving Vell alone in his dorm once again.

----------------------------------------

“That’s it?”

“Yep. Said some bullshit, rolled off my coffee table, vanished,” Vell said. “Honestly she does that most of the time. I kind of editorialize what she says and does a lot when I talk to you guys.”

Quenay’s unique behavior occasionally warranted a few editing touches, if only for the sake of brevity. No one was that interested in her opinions on ranch dressing.

“And so...what? The entity that created me is just never going to talk to me again? Isn’t that fucked up?”

“Big picture, I think she created every entity,” Vell said. As the apparent Goddess of Life, Vell assumed Quenay was at least indirectly responsible for the existence of every living thing. “I doubt she talks to most of her creations.”

“Still feels kind of hard not to feel neglected when she’s hovering over your shoulder talking about Chex Mix every other day.”

“How’d you know about the Chex Mix thing?”

A look of digital disbelief appeared on Kim’s face.

“I was guessing!”

“Well shit. Good guess,” Vell said. “I’m...sorry, I guess. I know this sucks.”

“God, it really does,” Kim said. She put her head in her hands. “How have I developed mommy issues when I’m not even an organic lifeform?”

“Hanging around me and Lee probably doesn’t help,” Vell said. The reminder of camaraderie was nice, but the joke could only do so much.

“I just feel pathetic,” Kim said.

“In a situation like yours, there’s nothing weird about wanting some kind of guidance,” Vell said. “You’ve got a lot of shit to figure out.”

“All thanks to her,” Kim said. “Who just shows up, creates an entirely brand new form of life, and then bails on them?”

“I see you’re entering the resentful teenage phase,” Vell said. “You want to go get your ears pierced to see if that makes Quenay mad?”

“You joke, but I have been thinking about changing up my ears,” Kim said. The antenna on the sides of her heads twitched. “I don’t think she’ll care, though. Doesn’t care about anything else, so why would she?”

“You know, I actually think Quenay does care. In a weird way,” Vell said. “If she really didn’t care she wouldn’t bother saying anything at all, but she wanted you to know she was staying hands off on purpose. I think she actually does want what’s best for you, it’s just that she’s not what’s best for you.”

In response to this sincere and heartfelt defense of her actions, Quenay appeared over Vell’s shoulder.

“Don’t you sit there and psychoanalyze me, Vell Harlan,” Quenay snapped.

“Prove me wrong,” Vell said. Quenay vanished with a displeased huff.

“I think you might have a point,” Kim said, entirely oblivious to the exchange that had just occurred. “Still not a great feeling, though.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Vell said. “Sorry. I really wish I knew what to say here.”

“Just talking about it helps,” Kim said. “It definitely makes me realize how pathetic I sound right now. I’m going to go now.”

“Are you sure? I have plenty of time-”

“Thanks but no thanks, bye Vell,” Kim said. She had debased herself enough for one day. She left the dorm, slammed the door shut behind her, and sped back to her own room as fast as her hydraulic legs would carry her.

“You’re in quite a hurry, Kim,” Dean Lichman said. The undead educator adjusted pace and swerved to the side as Kim crossed the quad heading the other way. “Is everything alright?”

“Yep, no worries, everything’s fine,” Kim said. “I-”

Kim stopped in her tracks and looked at the Dean for a moment. He had a giant stack of paperwork in his arms, and a fully loaded satchel slung over his shoulder. He was clearly in a hurry -but he’d put it all on pause for Kim.

“Just clearing my head,” Kim said. “Thanks for looking out. But I’m okay.”

“Good to hear,” Dean Lichman said. He adjusted his grip on his paperwork and started walking again. “Do let me know if you need anything, Kim.”

“Will do,” Kim said. “Thanks.”

Kim kept walking back to her dorm, at a much slower pace, with a very real smile on her digital face.