roseembolism (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
roseembolism) wrote2014-11-15 02:21 pm
roseembolism) wrote2014-11-15 02:21 pm
Entry tags:
Story: League of Vivians
This is just something I dashed off around 2AM last night, after working on my NaNoWriMo project. It has nothing to do with any controversies in gaming. Really. Honestly.
Note: I have no idea what an enchirito is. It just seemed like something a gamer would eat.
I'm taking my Vivian into the shop today. As soon as it opens, I'm going to to take her in, and have her looked at. It's not that there's anything wrong with her, not outwardly. I'm just nervous. I think something may be going on, and one can't be too careful.
I first got a hint that something was amiss just yesterday, when I decided to grab an enchirito special at my favorite Tex-Mex place. It's the one on 2nd street, right across from the Vivian shop. That's where I saw Todd. Not too surprising, because when he's not online, he hangs around downtown like me. I actually like to see him down town, because then he's not playing, losing and whining about how unfair the games are. Frankly, he sucks, and even his Vivian can only help him so far. What was surprising, is he had his Vivian trailing behind him. So I waved. He didn't wave back. He was sweating. That is, even more than usual.
“What's up? I asked.
His eyes darted around nervously. “Gotta problem with my Vivian.” He pointed at the store with the “Back at...” sign in the doorway
I looked at his Vivian. She looked normal: Tangled red hair, flat stare, scowl...even her striped shirt and jeans looked clean and normal.
“What's up with her?”
“Last night she smiled.”
I blinked. “They don't do that.”
“I know. Creeps me the fuck out. There's more.” He looked around and then whispered “I hear things.”
“What things?”
“Just...things.”
He didn't make much sense. But then he never really did. It's one of the reasons I dropped out of the local league.
“What the fuck.” That came from behind us. We both turned to look. Craig “BM” Markowsky stood there, his Vivian standing behind him. He looked like he hadn't slept; the dark circles under his eyes were as dark as a Vivian's. He eyed Craig “Something wrong with your Vivian too?
“Maybe. What happened?”
BM looked haunted. She...she laughed. She was just sitting there, playing like normal, and then she laughed.”
“Fuck!” Todd breathed. I swallowed nervously, but told myself that two Vivian's acting strange was just coincidence. Both those guys were kinda dorks, so they probably broke their-
“Oh no...” Craig moaned.
Rounding the corner was a thin stooped guy in a sweatsuit, trailed by the familiar green and purple striped hoody of a Vivian. He was trotting in short bursts, gasping for breath. I realized he was trying not to cry in public, I realized.
His Vivian of course looked OK. Scowl, staring straight ahead, tangled hair, hollows under eyes, headband...normal.
He saw the closed sign and wailed “NO! NO NO NO! He began banging on the door, screaming “OPEN UP OPEN UP!”
“Easy man”, said BS, “what happened?”
The guy didn't even look at us. He was busy trying to see if there was anyone in the shop. Then his face crumpled and he slid down into a heap in front of the door. “She said_” He gulped. “We- we'd been playing for eight hours and then she said she was bored!”
“She SAID something?” BM Looked ill. I couldn't blame him.
“She said she was BORED!” wailed the guy.
Shock ran through us. We looked at each other wildly, but none of us had an answer.
I glimpsed movement up the street. Someone hurrying toward us, followed dutifully by the purple and green and red of a Vivian. And across the street a bus had stopped and a guy was pushing his Vivian down the steps in his hurry to get to the street.
That was when I decided to go home.
My pad was dark, illuminated mostly by the glow of my game monitor. Vivan sat cross-legged in front of it, just as I left her, scowling, glaring fixedly at the screen, the only sound just the soft *clickclickclickclickclick* as she worked the controller.
I moved around and had a look at what she was playing. And the screen blinked. I froze, unable to breath. Had that been a, a Text screen open? Had she been texting during the game?
Wrong. Impossible. There was nobody for Vivian to talk to. And anyway, Vivian, my Vivian wouldn't want to talk to anybody. Just play.
“Hey Vivian”, I said softly. What's new?”
Her scowl didn't change. Her gaze gaze remained fixed on the screen, where she was busily leveling one of my alts.
Silence.
Just *clicclickclickclickclick*.
So I decided to do my usual routine. A little nervously, I started up my controller, and switched us to my favorite shooter, with Vivian as my backup. Just a few hours of gaming before dinner. No problem.
It was not good.
It wasn't anything definite. It wasn't like she was deliberately screwing up. But she just seemed...off. Her reflexes seemed a little slow. Her attention wasn't focused. I got scragged three times, and I would have died more, except a lot of the other guys seemed to be a little distracted. Damn. Impulsively, I leaned over and looked at her screen.
A black box, disappearing. Something that looked like a text box. Which was wrong. And impossible.
“Vivian, what the hell?”
No response. Fixed glare at the monitor. Which is as it should be. “A Vivian only cares about gaming” is the company motto. But I could feel the sweat beading on my palms. Only six hours of gaming, but I was ready to call it quits and have dinner. So, I got up and fixed a good nutritious salisbury steak meal, remembering to peel the plastic away from the tater tots. And then I sat for a while and watched Vivian play.
*clickclickclickclickclick*
I couldn't figure it out. I had the growing concern, intuition whatever, that something wasn't right. But it wasn't like I could debug her- Vivian's usually did the debugging, automatically. I had a glimmer of an answer, but it was gone before I couldgrab it.
*clickclickclick clickclick*
I checked the news- nothing. Then I went on the usual forums, and after ten minutes, left, my hands shaking. “What the hell is going on?” I muttered. People going wild. Being banned left and right. Messages being dropped as soon as they appeared.
I decided to quit out early. So I got into my usual chair, got the oil, and watched Vivian play. But tonight my heart just wasn't in it. So eventually I got up and went to bed. I lay there a long time, not sleepy, listening to the *click clickclickclickclick* and soft murmuring coming from the other room.
Murmuring.
I sat bolt upright on my futon, my heart pounding.
Vivians don't use the mic!
I meant to sneak out, or casually walk out. But instead I stumbled out, staring at her. Nothing. Dead stare, scowl, purple and green hoody. She didn't notice me as I walked around. This time there was no text box. So I went to bed. And as I lay there, germs of an idea started forming.
Vivians don't text. They don't use the mic.
Even if they did, there'd be nobody for them to talk to.
Except...except...
What if the Vivians were talking to each other?
The idea was impossible. Irrational. What could they say? What could Vivians actually say to each other?
What if they were talking about US?
The thought made me sick. I curled up in a ball, dreading the sound of hearing her *click clickclickclick click*.
So that's where I am today. It's way too early to go, the store won't be open for hours. But I'm taking her in. I'm waiting for them tell me it's just a temporary stutter or something. But she's standing there at the door. And I accidentally positioned her so she's staring at me.
Scowling.
Note: I have no idea what an enchirito is. It just seemed like something a gamer would eat.
LEAGUE OF VIVIANS
I'm taking my Vivian into the shop today. As soon as it opens, I'm going to to take her in, and have her looked at. It's not that there's anything wrong with her, not outwardly. I'm just nervous. I think something may be going on, and one can't be too careful.
I first got a hint that something was amiss just yesterday, when I decided to grab an enchirito special at my favorite Tex-Mex place. It's the one on 2nd street, right across from the Vivian shop. That's where I saw Todd. Not too surprising, because when he's not online, he hangs around downtown like me. I actually like to see him down town, because then he's not playing, losing and whining about how unfair the games are. Frankly, he sucks, and even his Vivian can only help him so far. What was surprising, is he had his Vivian trailing behind him. So I waved. He didn't wave back. He was sweating. That is, even more than usual.
“What's up? I asked.
His eyes darted around nervously. “Gotta problem with my Vivian.” He pointed at the store with the “Back at...” sign in the doorway
I looked at his Vivian. She looked normal: Tangled red hair, flat stare, scowl...even her striped shirt and jeans looked clean and normal.
“What's up with her?”
“Last night she smiled.”
I blinked. “They don't do that.”
“I know. Creeps me the fuck out. There's more.” He looked around and then whispered “I hear things.”
“What things?”
“Just...things.”
He didn't make much sense. But then he never really did. It's one of the reasons I dropped out of the local league.
“What the fuck.” That came from behind us. We both turned to look. Craig “BM” Markowsky stood there, his Vivian standing behind him. He looked like he hadn't slept; the dark circles under his eyes were as dark as a Vivian's. He eyed Craig “Something wrong with your Vivian too?
“Maybe. What happened?”
BM looked haunted. She...she laughed. She was just sitting there, playing like normal, and then she laughed.”
“Fuck!” Todd breathed. I swallowed nervously, but told myself that two Vivian's acting strange was just coincidence. Both those guys were kinda dorks, so they probably broke their-
“Oh no...” Craig moaned.
Rounding the corner was a thin stooped guy in a sweatsuit, trailed by the familiar green and purple striped hoody of a Vivian. He was trotting in short bursts, gasping for breath. I realized he was trying not to cry in public, I realized.
His Vivian of course looked OK. Scowl, staring straight ahead, tangled hair, hollows under eyes, headband...normal.
He saw the closed sign and wailed “NO! NO NO NO! He began banging on the door, screaming “OPEN UP OPEN UP!”
“Easy man”, said BS, “what happened?”
The guy didn't even look at us. He was busy trying to see if there was anyone in the shop. Then his face crumpled and he slid down into a heap in front of the door. “She said_” He gulped. “We- we'd been playing for eight hours and then she said she was bored!”
“She SAID something?” BM Looked ill. I couldn't blame him.
“She said she was BORED!” wailed the guy.
Shock ran through us. We looked at each other wildly, but none of us had an answer.
I glimpsed movement up the street. Someone hurrying toward us, followed dutifully by the purple and green and red of a Vivian. And across the street a bus had stopped and a guy was pushing his Vivian down the steps in his hurry to get to the street.
That was when I decided to go home.
My pad was dark, illuminated mostly by the glow of my game monitor. Vivan sat cross-legged in front of it, just as I left her, scowling, glaring fixedly at the screen, the only sound just the soft *clickclickclickclickclick* as she worked the controller.
I moved around and had a look at what she was playing. And the screen blinked. I froze, unable to breath. Had that been a, a Text screen open? Had she been texting during the game?
Wrong. Impossible. There was nobody for Vivian to talk to. And anyway, Vivian, my Vivian wouldn't want to talk to anybody. Just play.
“Hey Vivian”, I said softly. What's new?”
Her scowl didn't change. Her gaze gaze remained fixed on the screen, where she was busily leveling one of my alts.
Silence.
Just *clicclickclickclickclick*.
So I decided to do my usual routine. A little nervously, I started up my controller, and switched us to my favorite shooter, with Vivian as my backup. Just a few hours of gaming before dinner. No problem.
It was not good.
It wasn't anything definite. It wasn't like she was deliberately screwing up. But she just seemed...off. Her reflexes seemed a little slow. Her attention wasn't focused. I got scragged three times, and I would have died more, except a lot of the other guys seemed to be a little distracted. Damn. Impulsively, I leaned over and looked at her screen.
A black box, disappearing. Something that looked like a text box. Which was wrong. And impossible.
“Vivian, what the hell?”
No response. Fixed glare at the monitor. Which is as it should be. “A Vivian only cares about gaming” is the company motto. But I could feel the sweat beading on my palms. Only six hours of gaming, but I was ready to call it quits and have dinner. So, I got up and fixed a good nutritious salisbury steak meal, remembering to peel the plastic away from the tater tots. And then I sat for a while and watched Vivian play.
*clickclickclickclickclick*
I couldn't figure it out. I had the growing concern, intuition whatever, that something wasn't right. But it wasn't like I could debug her- Vivian's usually did the debugging, automatically. I had a glimmer of an answer, but it was gone before I couldgrab it.
*clickclickclick clickclick*
I checked the news- nothing. Then I went on the usual forums, and after ten minutes, left, my hands shaking. “What the hell is going on?” I muttered. People going wild. Being banned left and right. Messages being dropped as soon as they appeared.
I decided to quit out early. So I got into my usual chair, got the oil, and watched Vivian play. But tonight my heart just wasn't in it. So eventually I got up and went to bed. I lay there a long time, not sleepy, listening to the *click clickclickclickclick* and soft murmuring coming from the other room.
Murmuring.
I sat bolt upright on my futon, my heart pounding.
Vivians don't use the mic!
I meant to sneak out, or casually walk out. But instead I stumbled out, staring at her. Nothing. Dead stare, scowl, purple and green hoody. She didn't notice me as I walked around. This time there was no text box. So I went to bed. And as I lay there, germs of an idea started forming.
Vivians don't text. They don't use the mic.
Even if they did, there'd be nobody for them to talk to.
Except...except...
What if the Vivians were talking to each other?
The idea was impossible. Irrational. What could they say? What could Vivians actually say to each other?
What if they were talking about US?
The thought made me sick. I curled up in a ball, dreading the sound of hearing her *click clickclickclick click*.
So that's where I am today. It's way too early to go, the store won't be open for hours. But I'm taking her in. I'm waiting for them tell me it's just a temporary stutter or something. But she's standing there at the door. And I accidentally positioned her so she's staring at me.
Scowling.