BA Quest Part 2: The Hero Denies His Destiny

I didn't think it would be that easy. So I feel vindicated, it isn't easy at all.

In the two weeks since I last wrote about looking for a job, I have taken a lot of steps to find work. Not the usual steps. I didn't go looking in the classifieds. I haven't started filling out resumes at Taco Bells and KFCs. My pride wouldn't allow it. I stuck to the plan, and I've tried hard to find a job appropriate to my education. So I went to Craigslist.

In my defense, I didn't go directly to Craigslist. First, I tried to find websites that would carry jobs I was qualified for. This lead me to look for freelance writing work. That word, freelance, has never applied to me before. In my head I was always an author, a writer, an English dude. No one told me to consider myself a freelance writer. Maybe that is because I'm not qualified to be one.

I found freelancewritinggigs.com. The name is right on the nose. Everyone should know that freelancewritinggigs.com list freelance writing gigs each weekday. These jobs are everything from copywriters, to ghostwriters, to resume editors. Most of the links on their website, lead directly to Craigslist. Undeterred, I prepared to sell myself. I made a text document to list every job I applied for, when I applied for it, and details of what the job entailed. This way I would know every detail of the position I was going for.

Two weeks later, I probably have two dozen entries on my application list. Craigslist, for the uninitiated, usually keeps contact limited to e-mail. This is a real downer when looking for work, since you can't call to check up on how your application is doing. Instead you send your resume and samples into the ether, and hope for the best.

My only hope these two weeks has been from one of the few jobs I didn't find on Craigslist. In an effort to maintain the purpose of my mission, I applied for a job at Valve. Valve, the mythical creators of the Steam gaming platform, always keep a few positions hiring. One of them was a customer service representative. It was the sort of job that I said I didn't need, one completely unrelated to my four year degree. I applied, and they e-mailed me back for more information. This ruined at least two pairs of underpants, and then I e-mailed them back. Finally, Valve sent me a test of my etiquette when dealing with customers. The prompt dealt with the mother of a 12 year old who was non-plussed over her son seeing a rated R movie. I thought my response was even and fair, without being overly apologetic. Valve didn't seem to care for it.

Now I feel like I'm starting over again. No one has contacted me for work, and time is grinding forward. Another two months, and I will be required to start paying on my student loans. I have to double my efforts, but I may also have to prepare for inevitable failure.

My newest efforts to stay alive with a BA in English, is to join a site called Elance. Elance is quite different from craigslist, yet similar at the same time. This site requires that you verify your number, take test to verify your skills, and still put up a resume and work samples. Employers have to verify that they have the funds to pay you, and then the freelancers bid for a chance to work on projects. It sounds horrifying, I'm in.

BA Quest: An English Major Seeks a Job

You ever heard the one about the English major? He spent four years getting his degree in Unemployment. People also think English majors all become teachers, so does that mean, "Those that can't do, teach," is a joke on English majors as well?

I can understand the animosity. As degrees go, English is ambiguous and archaic. Are English majors humanitarians, all hoping to be the glistening angel in some young person's life? A goal like that is soft. Teaching young children is seen as feminine in the states, a pampering job, a maternal job. Do English majors comb old tomes, digesting tidbits from the long dead? Then they're seen as useless to our fast moving present. What still remains to be read? Maybe English majors are artist yearning to be superstars? If so, they sure chose the wrong profession. Writers are just above fashion designers and right below wrestlers in the grand fame hierarchy.

Unfortunately, I'm an English major. Even worse, I'm one by choice. I have no intention of teaching. I don't read classics all day. My writing won't be on a best-seller list anytime soon. I have no intention of being a superstar, but I will be a writer. Nothing will change that part of me, barring some incident that puts me in a coma. So what is a poor English major to do?

When I was preparing to graduate, my first goal was to get the most boring job I could manage. This is still an option. Nothing makes you want to go home and write like a mind numbing desk job. That's something that doesn't occur to people, a writer can write no matter what their job is. I have answered phones before. Seven hours of answering phones, repeating the same message, and entering data. I have a notepad full of doodles from that job. Nothing motivates you to draw a spaceman like hearing a woman complain about her 13 year old.

Now I have a new plan, forged in the embers of summer weather. It is the sort of plan to be proud of. A plan full of conviction, passion. A plan that shapes the future, based on what matters most. A plan that can be easily canceled the second things don't go my way. Which is something I'm prepared for, I finished an English degree after all.

You see, I love games. Not just video games, but board games, tabletop games, card games, pen and paper games. Since I was young, I've wanted to use my stories for games. In elementary school, I planned my own games out on paper. My friend and I mailed off a game idea to Nintendo, in the 4th grade. They sent a polite rejection. Maybe I would be better off now, if they told me to get lost. Instead I tried to write super hero stories in Jr. High school. In High school, I wrote game reviews for my friend's website.

Everything changed in college. University gave me a chance to take classes that actually related to my craft. With a full schedule of classes about classics and basics, I had no time to dream. School washed me clean of my aspirations. My mind was refocused on literature. I'm thankful, I never want to lose that knowledge. As I took my last classes, I realized that I didn't need to sacrifice what I was about. Literature is about people, and writing becomes what you care about.

So I need a job. Not any job, a job that lets me be myself. My game loving, nerd-centric, dry humored self. Which means some very odd job hunting. Trust me, careerbuilder.com isn't good for writing work. I guess this is the best place to track my progress. I need to change my resume, get myself out there, and go on plenty of interviews. Hopefully everything works out, because I'm ready to give up at the first sign of difficulty.

Ride Astride the Beast: Levels 15-20

Having played through levels 1-15 of World of Warcraft, it would only be fair to finish up the levels I am allotted. Unfortunately, it was discovered that this is only till level 20, and that the adventures of Myrdo would end well before they began. This shorter post will include more about experience with the first dungeons, an important facet of World of Warcraft, and PvP. 

As was revealed before, my experience with MMOs is rather widespread, yet not complete. Dungeons are not foreign, and they tend to follow a simple formula gained from their parent genre, the RPG. You go into some deep dark place, either a cave or taken structure, then you and your allies must stay close together to clear it of its tough enemies and bosses without dieing. In World of Warcraft, this is no different.

In fact, my first experience with one of these dungeons was by mistake, Ragefire chasm. Having leveled up my character to 12, I went into a portal at the bottom of Oggrimar, the capital city for the Horde. When Zigglez and I entered, we saw a worm only a level above us, and we attacked it. The worm killed both of us, only nearly dieing. The room was full of duplicate creatures. We decided that we would come back at level 14, and get revenge on this creature. We did so, again fighting that one worm, and with all of our abilities spent, we killed it. We were proud, and managed to kill 6 more.

When we hit level 15, we entered the dungeon queue to go in as a group. All three of us, since Witrig was with us, entered as DPS characters, or damage per second characters. This dungeon finder is a fun mechanic, it allows players to jump right to a dungeon that they want to do, even if they have never visited it. For those who appreciate the in character elements of a game though, this is a travesty. There is no need for exploration to find a difficult dungeon, they are all listed, and the game will then teleport you halfway across the game world just to go destroy the enemies there, even if you have no idea what story lead your character to be there.

It was done though, and soon our tank, the character meant to take the brunt of the damage, charged into the chasm and started to fight several worms at once. The three of my personal allies all went in to destroy the creatures, and in a flurry of attack animations, they were all dead, the tank barely hurt with the assistance of the healer behind him. Yet, I felt no great satisfaction, I simply stood behind an enemy, and did what I do until they were all laying on the ground so we could collect their loot. Killing them one by one, each of them monstrous villains, was better than this... slaughter. Soon we met bosses, and each fell a slight bit slower. Since ragefire chasm was part of my actual storyline, I knew that these people were part of the burning blade, were demon summoners. We ripped each of the bosses to shreds, and any damage on us was short lived.

I will mention that after this we did Shadowfang keep, a dungeon that has been altered from its original form as a werewolf filled keep. The reason for this is because those werewolves, are now a playable race, so the story has changed to their keep being overrun by the undead. I did not participate in most of this dungeon, because the game is slow to download its elements on my crappy internet connection. It took me at least 8 minutes to load, if not more. Then when I died, as our tank and healer were not nearly as good this time, it took another 15 minutes or more to load the world outside of the dungeon. Both of these places I never visited before, so the game had no reason to think I would need to download them in advance. It was still quite irritating.

As for the other game element, PvP, I cannot say I know why anyone would participate. This was level 19 PvP mind you, very early in the game. Yet, every fight felt like a wandering slaughter. The fight moved from one place to another, both sides flinging status effects at one another like fear and disorient, that eliminated that character from the fight. If the DPS on one side decided a character would be dead, they were then dead very fast. Personally, my Rogue could do very little, as whenever I tried to attack, everyone would turn to me and have me dead in seconds. The PvP in Warhammer Online and other Everquestian MMOs have a similar feel, yet this truly felt like the lowest of the low. 

When I reached level 20, the quest in the game seemed to get a slight bit more engaging. Not that they took any thought, they were still stagnant elements all built to make me fight a different sort of monster. Yet the feel of them because a little more serious, at the very least, as I entered the Ashenvale. 

This all doesn't matter though, as my time as Myrdo is done. The game capped me at level 20, so moving forward would be suicide. So in the meantime, as my trial finishes, I have moved to playing a Dwarf Paladin, for a different view of the situation. The life of Dezuun the Dwarf will need to be covered later though.

Ride Astride the Beast: Levels 1-15

Taking something apart always reveals its flaws, always shows it wanting. Yet it is also important for figuring out exactly what we want, why, and what should be done about it. So WoW will be examined, and the whole of the MMORPG genre will be examined with it. Because when we examine MMOs, we must examine World of Warcraft, or we are skipping a vital step, ignoring the largest sample.

For this two parts will be required. First this post will examine World of Warcraft in particular, in its first few levels and its structure. Then this will be reflected onto all MMOs, since WoW is just the poster-child, not a single child.

The other day I started my game as an Orc rogue. This choice was partly my own feelings toward the best race, and partly going for a standard experience. Orcs are the central race for their side, the center of 'the horde'. Yet rogues are not the standardized MMO experience, that would be Mage or Warrior.

I'll start by saying that the character creator in this game is ancient. Sure WoW came out in 2004, but that is no excuse for having a character creator that is simply a choice between 5 hairstyles, 5 faces, and 4 skin shades. I didn't even need to see another player, and I already felt like I looked exactly like everyone else. This feeling of being 'just one of many' continued as I picked up the same items as my other leather wearing allies, and did the same quest which the dialogue made seem was special for me. 

Now what some may not know is that WoW has had some changes because of the upcoming release of their new expansion, Cataclysm. The content from level 1-60 has been modified, down to how you gain points as you level up. So imagine my surprise when the big change in my starting area was, as I heard another player say, the boars I had to kill constantly were in a pen instead of roaming. This was the same beginning as many other fantasy MMO, killing animals and other pest that every NPC around you should be capable of killing. The game tries to make you sound like the chosen one in dialogue, yet any NPC you see at work is obviously better at their task than you are. Your character has no place in the natural order, which goes directly against the idea of being an RPG. This is likely my number one complaint about WoW, and many MMOs. The only thing about the game that has me 'Role-playing' is that I fill a very specific role in a combat group, either healer, tank, or DPS.

But I will spend more time on that later. The trial of World of Warcraft is in particular, offensive. The game's system because a wasteland, your character a phantom in the middle of real people. This is not a trial, this is a single player game plugged into the middle of a multiplayer game. You cannot talk except in tells to certain people, you cannot trade around gold (this one I understand because of mules), and worst of all you cannot invite people to groups. For a game, a genre, built upon social interaction this trial is built to stop it at every turn.

Which is okay, since these levels are all about being an errand boy of the NPCs around you. From collecting cactus apples to killing scorpions, only half the quest I did ever felt like something important. I dealt with the burning blade, and the Northwatch patrols, but they somehow made these things that should have been profound, feel like dummies assisting in a practice exercise. It doesn't help that your kills are far from permanent, with enemies spawning around you within a minute of you slaughtering them. 

Then an aesthetic complaint, mounts and cities. The wandering hordes of level 80 players should be something awe-inspiring in a game. These people have worked hard, and their characters are the true champions, people doing the most dangerous things for their faction. So it saddened me to see them look like goofballs, riding go-karts and motorcycles while wearing costumes to look like pirates and goblins (note goblins were not playable as of this posting). This makes going through large towns, like Ogrimmar, a bother. Every time I went into town, I was pulled out of the already lofty setting. Not that WoW didn't try hard to pull me out by itself, with a world of blades and spells being back to back with stealth camo generators and rockets to the moon. Blizzard makes it very clear they don't want you to take their setting seriously.

There was a lot of good in here too though. I managed to get a group by playing with a friend with an actual account, so there were times I could actually group up. It was fun filling my role, to manipulate stealth and try to only fight one or two characters at a time. Thorn hill, and other razormane related locations out in the barrens, turned out to be the most enjoyable. There were plenty of enemies to kill, and because of the sparse population, it felt like there was a reason I was out there doing the dirty work, which all related to killing specific targets. There was also a subplot of the survival of the Razormane, as a people, which was of course largely ignored. There was also good fun in Azshara, but that fun was stifled by the fact that none of it felt like it fit in the setting. When I'm walking a mech around to fight people, and then doing quest for hyper-intelligent raptors, I have no idea where I am anymore, or what to expect.

All MMOs tend to have similar problems to this, missions not seeming important, and really slow starts. Yet I would expect better from the big daddy of MMOs, especially with how often it has been changed. In Warhammer online, most races start off fighting legit threats, fighting off a siege or pulling raids against the enemies of your race. City of Heroes starts off being about crime fighting, so its version of fighting boars is fighting basic street criminals who can't do much but try to punch you. 

The biggest problem here is the lack of role-playing, something that plagues just about every MMO except maybe Eve Online. By role-playing I do not mean pretending you are the little girl, I mean having a full investment in your character, and having control over their fate and story. In an MMO, often the quest will dictate to you a story that you may not want to take part in, which is okay if there are multiple paths, or your character has multiple ways to apply him to the problem. If someone tells me to take care of a target, and I can kill or persuade them, stab them to death or blow them up, I have options. In World of Warcraft, as in Warhammer Online and City of Heroes, there are a select few paths of where my character will go. My rogue will be of one of three specializations, and his gear will be to exemplify that, and my quest will all lead to the end game content. In Eve, at a point, the quest don't matter anymore. I can become a miner, I can be a CEO of a business, run special ops, or drive a giant ship into battle. The quest, at least early on, do not try to lead you anywhere. You are simply one of many, and the game knows this. You are not unique, you are not a butterfly, if you don't do this quest then someone else will.

These observations and complaints are all for a specific group of players though. For many, MMOs are about the group combat and challenges. I understand this as a person who played a game built around that from top to bottom, Guild Wars. Yet when I play a game that attempts to have a story, I hope to find enough in there to satiate me, and push me forward. World of Warcraft has failed in that respect, so far.

Digitism (Worldbuilding)

I've been on a quest for modern gods. First with the Virtue project (Lord Uertu stuff on this very blog) and before that I had other ideas that never made their way outside of a writing journal (things based on colors, an old fashioned goddess of creation).

Often my idea isn't to create something that would be useful, simply something that is memorable. If it is only memorable to me, so be it. What I consider memorable though, is likely my main problem. This is not the focus of this post though.

My most recent idea is to create modern gods. I know this has been done before, so originality is not a goal that is set on my plate (thank all that is good). So that requires thinking about what makes a 'god', and why we make them. It seems that gods have likely always served one primary purpose, the purpose of every supernatural, to explain things that cannot be explained. When lightning was still a frightening and terrible thing, there must have been something that set it upon the world, and it had to have a purpose. As people realize that is not the case, guys like Zeus, Odin or Raijin, don't really have the same flare that they used to (sorry guys. Especially you Raijin, love the drums).

Man has now learned so much, only to realize there is still so much we do not know. The things that relate to our lives though, our everyday, it all makes sense to us. To most of us, it makes sense scientifically (even if we don't know the highest details). I am no longer afraid that a demon is going to come sit on my chest, I may have sleep paralysis though, lightning is now a facet of nature and mermaids are just the drunken ramblings of seamen.

So why make gods now? If I was going to make an excuse for my behavior, I'd say it is just for my own entertainment. If I was going to be completely truthful, I'd say it is out of a vain hope to strike gold, to implant my own piece of truth and reality into another human being. Instead I'll say that we could use it. Not in the way that we need some sense of morals, but I like having things to believe in, and what better to believe in then reality?

I'll go over what brought me to these concepts on another day, but in the meantime, I figure I should look at some of these 'Gods'. I call this digitism (in defiance of Internetology and things with the same name) because of numbers. My main goal has been to align the numbers, things that are inherently true, with other things that we consider reality now in the present (though not necessarily also true). The goal is to avoid directly relating to one culture, gender, people. They should be about our planet in general, in a way that they could be seen in many different ways (and I will give some of my mental pictures as I go I guess). These gods would and do have purviews (things that they relate to, control), but I have to work those out for a lot of them.

0 - Cheating its way to the first slot is 0. The troublesome one. Related to nothingness, oblivion, destruction (though maybe not death). 0 is the first number, but did not come first. 0 adds nothing to the world, 0 always takes away or leaves things as they are, or completely invalidates. As a character, 0 is the jealous sibling, the grand force that puts itself at the head, yet is often overlooked. In appearance, I see very little 'appearance' at all, cloaks of black and white, or possibly melding into whatever surrounding is there (take all or take nothing). Around 0, things decay, fall away.

1 - Originally imagined as the godhead, 1 is still the prime. 1 is the start, the beginning, the alpha. When we have a thing, we have 1, when we have many things, they still came from 1. 1 is truth and 1 is greatness, because when you put something with 1 you gain that same thing back. In character, 1 and 0 are the siblings (though 0-9 are all 'related' in their position), because they are both first. They share this position, but 1 truly holds the position, while 0 holds it on technicality. 1 is of course, the loneliest number, and I see it as proud and arrogant (we are number 1). In appearance 1 should show its pride, but not flaunt it. It does not need to scream that it is the first, everyone knows it, respects it.

2 - The companion. Originally imagined as the wife, it is instead simply the 2nd, the helper, the assistant. It is also the first in line that truly helps things grow, so for that it is the multiplier. While 0 and 1 remain stagnant, 2 creates. Even if something is made up of 0s and 1s, it must have at least 2 numbers there to mean something more. Marriage, dating, sex, conversation, blending, the things that start with at least 2 things, are 2's to control. They are also often things of creation. In character, 2 is warm, often inviting, yet still divided. Unlike the siblings, 2 is less unified, and represents the basic aspect of being divided through subtle hints toward the hostility between two people.

3 - Once there was three, there was a conspiracy. 3 is the outsider, the one that holds things up from outside the spotlight. 3 contains vital things, like Pi, but at once is unwilling to divulge everything. Jealousy is 3's purview, moreso than 0. As is the circle and triangle, important shapes that also give 3 control of math. In character, 3 is a thinker, and a sneak. It knows much more than it lets on, and always has something more to add if it could only be pressed.

5 - The number of (hu)man. Though man is defined by all the first ten in some fashion, man belongs to 5. Our hands and feet that make us industrious are from 5, and so 5 is the number of industry. In character, 5 is devoted to humans (though not necessarily humanity) and other mammals. It is a builder, a factory worker, a crafter. In appearance it looks like the hard work it does, often in work clothes of heavy apron or hardhat.

That's all for now. Some basic ideas I shot up in the last few hours. Though other ideas gained from friends: more digits dilutes divine-ness. So two digits are demigods, and three may simply be supernatural creatures. The digits within a person shows its relation (ex. 10 is the offspring of the siblings). Oh well, later folks.

Agamemdork (Working Title)

A work in progress.

Agamemdork

 It all began two weeks prior as King Chuck, lord of many, toured the halls of his domain. King Chuck was known as a good King, protective of his own, and fair to all those who came to him. For two years he had reigned, yet already his rule was coming to a close.

  As he walked the halls, friends and allies around him, a desperate form appeared before him. The young man fell to his knees before Chuck, breath heavy and eyes low. His clothing said he had run far, his body damp and swollen. 
 

“Chuck, something's wrong,” said the boy, “They came and took her.”

The crowd of allies bent themselves in shock, a cloud of gasp filled the small hall to bursting.

“They wouldn't dare,” Chuck said.

The boy bowed his head, “They dare.”

“Where? How?”

“While she addressed the chess club, Chuck,” the boy said, “We defended her, but they were many. She was surely taken down-”

“No more, I won't hear of it.”

Yet there was much more to come, and all news spoke to the truth. Mary Mcguffin, fair lady of the Nerds, was taken. There was no mistaking this as anything less than a slight against the realms of Nerd, Dork and Dweeb. Across Homer Prep, every King and Queen knew that this meant war, and that King Chuck, Nerd of Nerds, would not stand down until his great lady was returned. 

Now they met, Princes and Dukes of Nerd, in the libraries sanctuary.

“Here me now,” Chuck said, many bespectacled eyes watching him intently, “I Chuck, Nerd of Nerds, ask you to join me in this quest. For our very core is under assault.”

“They took Mary!” Shouted the Duke of AV.

“They must pay!” Said the Prince of Chess.

“Yeah, screw those dicks!” Said the Duchess of Anime.

The nerds were in a riot, and glasses fogged with rage. The crowd was silenced by one among them rising. It was the Prince of Drama.

“Shamus,” Chuck said, “You dare speak here?”

Shamus, lord of Drama nerds, bowed to his audience. A smile crossed his face that chilled even Chuck, then he walked to the head of the crowd.

“I speak, oh great Chuck, for the sake of my brothers and sisters here now.”
The crowd grew quiet, eyes narrowed and bodies tensed.

“I ask,” Said Shamus, “Does this Mcguffiin mean so much, that we must all be dragged into your foolhardy conflict?”

Voices erupted yet again. This time in two tones, two groups, the kingdom of obsession shattered as always. Even thrown together in their lot, voices rose from all sides.

“She was a bitch to me.” One said.

“She remembered my name,” said another.

“She didn't come to my birthday.”

“-Totally hot-”

“-Her level 80 palladin-”

“-Freckles-” 

“Silence,” Chuck said, “Who questions me? Who has read more comics than me? Who thinks they know more star trek quotes than me? Who thinks they know better?”

--

So, a mock epic using cliqs. I want to change the title to something like Agamemdork: Of the Forais Epic. 

--

"To their dark pit of labor, colusseum of sweat"

--

I imagine Chuck as  a true nerd among nerds. Maybe wearing a cape, and having two pocket protectors. Glasses are also important.

Machismo (Rough Draft Pt. 1)

Machismo (Pt. 1)

As Mangar stood above the slain beast, slathered in its oil-black blood, he could hear a roar of men and women grow around him. It was the cheers of the peasants, the men and women the heroes saved on their daring quest had come to see the final battle against the evil God-Bard.

There they stood together, Mangar the Barbarian, Totee the Halfling, and the beautiful Sorceress Weanna, triumphant on their darkest day.

“'Kay that's good, bio break.” Chuck said. The wiry dungeon master rose from behind the propped up peachy folders that made up his secretive 'DM screen' and headed out of the room, leaving behind his three players.

This was Rick's house, or his mom's house to be more specific. Yet he wasn't in charge of the game, that was Chuck's job, which is why they would usually be over at his house to play, if his Mom and Dad weren't having their little 'spat' that was going on 3 months now.

Rick was happy to host everyone though, even if Rick's mom thought Jay talked way too loud (which yeah, he does), and Seth left food everywhere (which he does). These were his friends, for the most part. Having them over once a week was a boon.

Jay got up to stretch, his mouth opening wide and letting out a heavy yawn that he tried to talk through.

“My rolls... were so... horrible tonight,” Jay said.

“Your rolls are always horrible.” Seth said, “Every night, you're just a useless pile of hairy feet and bad puns.”

Rick laughed as Jay took a fake swing at Seth.

The door to the basement burst open behind them, sending a few cans of Mountain Dew scattering across the floor. Instead of Chuck, Rick's older brother Junior stood there. A groan passed between the players.

Junior swaggered into the room, a root beer in one hand and a basket of smug in the other, “You kids still in here playing your baby games?”

Everyone ignored him, except for Seth who simply stared.

“You know Dicky,” Junior said, using his favorite nickname for Rick, “If you stopped spending your Saturdays with these retards you might get laid before you graduate. Lords know all of you could use it.”

Rick let out a sigh, this was business as usual for his brother. Somewhere between losing his virginity and getting in his first car accident, he became god's gift to anything with a hole. He always had a new girlfriend, he was moved up to first string power forward on the Basketball team, and Rick swore even Junior's singing voice had improved.

“Whatever,” Rick responded, “Can you go now?”

Junior laughed along with no one and turned to leave, “You babies have fun, let mom know if you need a change.”

His laughter could be heard going up the steps even after the door closed.

“Man he is a douche.” Rick said.

“He has a point thought,” Jay said.

Rick and Seth both turned to look at the Halfling player.

“How?” Seth said with hands thrown up, “How does he have a point?”

Jay looked between them, “Well, when was the last time you had a girlfriend Rick?”

Rick looked at the ceiling and thought, about Betty, May, Alison, Tiffany.

“Never,” Rick said, “But this is High School man, you know how it is.”

Seth leaned back in his chair, “What happened with you and Karen?” He said.

Karen was a cute little blond girl they all shared Math class with. She was a little naïve in that way where you didn't know if they were actually naïve or just in complete denial.

“I don't really like Karen.” Rick said.

They responded in unison, “Don't like Karen?”

Rick scrunched up his face.

“I like Karen,” Seth said with a grin.

“I like Karen's laugh.” Jay said.

“Well yeah, you guys like Karen.”

“I like Karen's titties.” Jay said, his eyes rolling back in his head in an exaggerated fashion.

“Oh yeah, wonderful breast. Just makes you wanna...”

“...Oh I know, nice shape, and those shirts, I just want to...”

“...The things I would do.”

The door opened yet again and Chuck returned.

“Uhm,” Chuck said, “What're we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Rick said.

“Karen's wonderful sweater babies,” Seth said.

Chuck stopped in place, his face as expressionless as Rick had ever seen it. The DM cleared his throat, then walked back to his place.

“Oh.” Chuck said.

“Lets just start again,” Rick said.

From behind his screen they could see chuck moving things around, hear the shuffling of loose pages of notes and story. He mumbled something to himself, and each of the players waited in silence for the action to begin.

Chuck cleared his throat again.

The heroes basked in the glory of victory, flowers raining upon them, and heartfelt tears spilling at their feet. The world was saved yet again, thanks to their fearless actions in the face of mortal danger. No one could stand before them and call them anything less than legends, great warriors willing to put the common man before their own wellbeing.

Suddenly the crowd grew quiet, and they parted to let through a busty maiden, the Princess of Charlezonia. Her body bursting with affection for the saviors of her land. One by one she pressed herself against them and gave unto them a deep kiss...

“That's it,” Rick said, “This is too much.”

“He was just getting to the good part,” Seth said.

Rick took a breath and looked between his friends. They knew him, he knew them, they were good guys. Yet something seemed sad, about all of it.

“Does she really have to be the 'busty maiden'?” Rick said.

Jay cocked an eyebrow at him like Rick just finished a handstand, in his underwear.

“Would you rather she be the homely peasant girl? Or the face-only-a-goblin-could-love chick?” Jay said.

“I uh, I could do homely.” Chuck said, his eyes just showing above his peachies.

“No one adventures for homely,” Seth said while adjusting his eyewear, “No one slays the darkest spawn of the unknown reaches for homely.”

“I'd slay all sorts of spawn for Karen.”

“I'd darkest spawn all over Karen.”

“I don't even like Karen,” Rick Said.

“You don't need to,” Seth said, “This isn't about liking her is it? Its about what Junior said. All he said was to get laid. You think Junior liked the girls he slept with?”

Somewhere deep Rick imagined his brother liked each and every one of them, or at least liked the way they looked after a few beers. They were his girls, even if he used them as an emulator for lotion and tissue paper, and trashed them just as fast.

“What are you going to do? Go be big dog like Junior?” Seth said, “You can bust a few cans on your forehead, and piss on the neighbors lawn.”

Chuck made a hissing sound from behind his screen, his own little laugh that sounded like a Disney movie snake.

Rick rubbed the side of his head, “I just don't know. Junior is an idiot, but I guarantee every girl he hasn't already bespoiled is just hoping he ask for their number. I could get a degree, spend my whole life studying, and unless I get rich I'll never have that.”

“Of course,” Jay said, “That's why you're here, and he is out there.” He said while pointing.

Seth whispered, “Out where?”

“If you wanted the get girls quick plan, you'd be out there. You want success and money. So you study. This is obvious stuff man.”

Rick shook his head, “But I might not get rich, and he could still get a good job.”

“You could go out there and get a girl, if you bulked up a little,” Seth said, “Maybe hit the gym.”

“He doesn't need to bulk up,” Jay said, “Don't tell him that.”

“Look at him.”

Rick's eyes went wide, “What does that mean?”

“Yeah, he is fine the way he is. Heck, the right clothes and a little make up, I'd go for it.” Rick said, then added, “No homo.”

Seth's lips mouthed, “What.”

Rick turned from Jay to Chuck, “I could try it. You know, why not. Hell, I'll go for Karen. It's not like I'm worried about divine brimstone or something, getting laid could be helpful.”

“You don't even like Karen,” Jay said.

“... saying no homo doesn't count if its totally homo...” Seth said as they spoke.

“Yeah, but that's even better. I don't need a relationship before college anyway.”

“Uhm,” Chuck said, making everyone grow quiet to hear him, “You could also become a complete dick.”