End Game: A Gamer Romance Page 4

  “Don’t tell me how to play!”

  Ignoring me, Thorsday charges across the space and slams straight into the ogre. I shake my head. He’s good, but not good enough to tackle this enemy on his own and survive.

  What follows is a bizarre fight. Five minutes of Thorsday beating the hell out of something that has ten times the health points he does, and Sinestre alternating between throwing lightning bolts at Droog and healing spells onto Thor.

  Five minutes of intense quiet as we pull our best gameplay.

  Droog falls to the ground with a roar, and my adrenaline-fuelled heart pumps triumphant excitement.

  “Fuck, yeah!” Thorsday shouts. “See what we did?”

  “Dead ogre. Good job,” I say and can’t help smile at the reaction. This guy’s usually controlled and calm, even on fights when the guild kills a new boss. “Nicely done. We rock.”

  Thor’s avatar bends down and takes the loot from the corpse, and I do the same. Gold and cloth and…holy crap.

  Ring of Droog

  Fabled

  +10 Wisdom

  +10 Dexterity

  Use: Summons a protective barrier absorbing spell damage for 5 seconds

  The game’s random number generator decides who receives the ring, and I wiggle my foot, muttering words of encouragement at the screen.

  Thorsday receives the Ring of Droog.

  I shake my head at the glowing green words. Whoa. Unfair. Only the second most sought-after item in game… But what can I do? The RNG gods aren’t on my side tonight.

  “Nice,” I say eventually and attempt to hide the begrudgement.

  A box appears onscreen with a picture of the ring inside.

  Thorsday wants to trade. “Take it.”

  “You won.”

  “Take the ring.”

  “You need it too. The dexterity bonus is higher than your gear.” I cancel the trade window.

  “Sin, I’m being nice here. I want you to have this. Call this a pledge for reputation gain—would it take me from ‘hostile’ to ‘neutral’ with you?”

  “Ha ha. But I can’t.”

  “Sure you can, just don’t tell anybody I gave you the ring and ruin my hard-ass image.”

  I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. But hell, it’s a freaking Fabled level item. As soon as I equip the ring, I can’t return it. There’s no changing his mind then.

  “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. The ring will help your healing. Y’know, so you can keep me alive in raids more often.”

  I rub my lips together at his teasing tone. Some days, I really wish I could see people’s faces in the game. Such as now, although it’s a good thing he can’t see the guilt on mine. Okay, I admit it. I might not always heal him when he needs in raids.

  “I’m sure it will.”

  We stand, Sinestre and Thorsday, next to the corpse of an ogre six times as tall as us, in a world where we can slay anything that attacks us. A place where co-operation is needed to win the game. If we can’t win the first time, we’ll always succeed eventually.

  “Best find your lotus now. I’ll help. I already have enough fish to sell and buy guild provisions for the next month,” he says.

  And the reality hits me. This guy may be self-assured and arrogant, but playing as a team means as much to him as his personal success.

  I don’t know many people with the same attitude, even in the real world.

  “I think I should go to bed,” I say.

  “Want me to pick the lotus for you?”

  I laugh softly. “Sure. Night then.”

  “Night, Sin.”

  “Evie.”

  A telling pause, and I strain to hear the background noise but there’s none. “Night, Sin.”

  “And thank you for—” A click.

  Thorsday has gone offline.

  6

  After work drinks on a Friday increasingly become a feature in my life before I head home to play. The frosty atmosphere between me and Thorsday melted a little over the last couple of weeks, but I’m still edgy around him when he attempts to takeover and organise everything Tyler once did. Tyler tells me he doesn’t mind, but I’m uncomfortable at the pivotal role Thor’s taking on.

  Friday night, post-work equals busy bar, but we manage to congregate at our usual table. Old times meet the new recently, as if life will never change.

  “You coming to OzSupaCon, Erin?” asks Tyler.

  “Is that the fancy dress thing?” She sips her drink, eyes back on the barman this evening.

  I smirk at the look of disgust on his face. “Cosplay.”

  She turns to him. “No, I mean the geeky thing. Where all the girls dress up like the princess from Star Trek.”

  This time I have to bite down my laughter at Tyler’s despairing look. Princess Leia? Star Wars. “Yeah. That,” he mutters.

  “I guess I could come. Do I need to wear dress-up?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “Are you?” she asks Tyler.

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s a secret.” Tyler’s smile turns smug.

  “Do you know what Cole is dressing up as?”

  “The Tenth Doctor.”

  “A doctor?”

  I watch the batted back and forth conversation with amusement. “Please, Tyler, you’re losing her,” I say.

  Erin grins. “I know who he means. Doctor Who. Cole likes that show too. He made me watch some and I actually enjoyed it.” Cole approaches the table and sets a mason jar in front of Erin. “Didn’t I?”

  “What did you do now?” He frowns.

  “I was telling them about you making me watch another of your weird TV shows. Talk about binge watching.” She nods at him. “Cole fell asleep, he has no staying power.”

  “Hmm.” He sits and sips his beer before wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.

  “We were talking about the geeky thing. You’re going, aren’t you?” asks Erin.

  “I thought we all could. Be fun,” puts in Tyler.

  “What are you dressing up as, Evie?” asks Erin.

  “Same as last year—my game character. Malourn armour. Ears. I even bought some green contact lenses.”

  Each time I look at the costume in my wardrobe, a mix of excitement and apprehension joins me. Last year, I donned an aqua wig to match my game character and cosplayed at the local OzSupaCon event. Any excuse to dress up as the Sorcerer I play for hours every day.

  The attention Sinestre received, although flattering at first, eventually became creepy, and my arms and legs turned blue under the cranked-up air-con. My height and build fits the elven look, but my confidence—and ability to turn morons who attempt to grope me into a fiery pile of ash—does not.

  These days, my natural auburn hair colour and a definite lack of exposed limbs is my normal look when, and if, I go out.

  Tyler looks up. “That’s some serious cosplay commitment.”

  Erin sips her drink. “Apart from dressing up and staring at each other, what else is there to do at a Con? For normal people like me, I mean.”

  “Normal! Ha.” I nudge her. “Come for the atmosphere. Some people go for photos with the special guests from their favourite shows, but I don’t think they have anybody from Masterchef there.”

  “You like to shop,” suggests Cole. “There’s plenty to buy from stalls.”

  “But anything I’d like to buy? Or just geek stuff?”

  “She’s a lost cause, Cole,” I reply. “The cosplay competition’s fun too—you can check out the best costumes.”

  Erin pokes her tongue into a cheek. “Well, maybe I’ll surprise you all and dress up too!”

  “Gonna be an awesome day—we haven’t been together as a guild for months,” puts in Tyler. “Con, then party at your place, Evie.”

  Erin groans. “I can’t believe I agreed to that. You won’t talk guild and gaming things all evening, will you?”

  I laugh. “I doubt it. No strategis
ing allowed unless the guild’s resident Hemsworth with us.”

  “Hemsworth?” Erin tips her head. “What’s that? A new character? Like a type of orc?”

  I consider explaining to Erin the whole Thorsday situation, but that’s a waste of time, she’d take me literally. “Just some new guy in the guild.”

  “Will he be at the Con?”

  “No, he lives in Sydney. I know we’re awesome, but I doubt he’d take a trip to Perth, just to go to a Con that’ll also be held in Sydney in a couple of months.”

  “Better guests there too,” mutters Tyler. “I seriously wanna meet that chick from The Walking Dead. And the Game of Thrones dude.”

  I pat his hand. “There, there. One day you’ll be able to afford flights and go to any Con you want.”

  “Yeah. Finish uni and make a crap load of money.”

  I wrinkle my nose, not impressed with the reminder about my non-plans and even none-er prospects. Even Erin is switched on enough to start a career and works as a nurse.

  That’s enough real life talk for me. “What time are we raiding tonight?” I ask Tyler.

  He checks his phone. “‘Bout an hour. Best get home. Need to buy some beers though.”

  “Don’t let Thor know. He gets pissed off when you raid drunk.”

  “Meh. My Friday night; I do what I want. Not like I wipe the raid or anything.” The times Thor clashes with a drunk Tyler, I zone out or pour myself another Jaeger and coke. My mouth isn’t as loud as Tyler’s after a few drinks, and neither is my game play as shaky.

  I’m looking forward to my time in the world I control tonight, and my opportunity to cross Sinestre over into the real world at the Con in a couple of weeks.

  *

  The raid ends with a balance between achievement and disaster. Thorsday’s happy because we defeated an extra boss and progressed, but not impressed Tyler and a couple of the others were too drunk for a decent shot at the next on the list. Since our chat the other evening, my relationship with Thor improved. I guess it’s easier to misjudge people when you can’t see their face or body language. Maybe he’s a shy guy who feels empowered by his success in game and oversteps—or maybe he really is too self-assured.

  And maybe my curiosity to see his face and body, um, I mean body language, grows. How is it possible to fall for a guy’s voice and have your imagination lead to whether the sexy tone is accompanied by the rest of him in reality? Erin suggested I Facebook stalk him, and I explained if he won’t tell us his name, he sure as hell wouldn’t open his life to us with a Facebook friendship.

  “Heals were better tonight,” remarks Tyler as we leave the dungeon.

  “Yeah, I stayed alive longer,” puts in Thorsday, and again I wish I could see if the tease to his voice is matched by either a smirk or a smile.

  “Because you stood in the fire less,” I retort. “You were easier to keep alive.”

  “I noticed you have a new ring, Sin. How the hell did you manage that? You’re not geared enough to take down Droog,” says Spencer.

  Now I really want to see Thorsday’s face. “Um. A random player helped me. Droog spawned near me the other night when I was collecting herbs.”

  “He appeared right next to you? Bloody hell. Lucky you weren’t alone. And you won the ring!”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” The awe in Tyler’s voice amuses me and he launches into a whinging monologue how he never finds decent items, and I’ve looted more than my fair share.

  “Was the player a guy?” asks Thorsday, throwing me off track.

  “He was.”

  “Ha! Knew it! Give the loot to the hot Elf,” says Tyler. “Now do you realise why I chose to play one?”

  “He doesn’t know what I look like behind my keyboard,” I retort. “He’s just a nice guy, I guess.”

  “Sounds like he is,” says Thorsday in a low voice.

  “Maybe he already had the ring?” asks Spencer.

  “I doubt it. The ring’s only been available to find in the game for a week. Far out…” And Tyler starts whinging again. “Come run some dungeons with me, Sin? Help me find something decent.” I’m distracted by Thorsday’s comments, the undertone that I’ve changed my attitude towards him. “Evie?”

  “No thanks, Tyler, I’ve had enough of your drunken recklessness for one night. At this rate, you’ll be snoring face down on your keyboard before we get halfway through. I’m heading to bed.”

  “You working tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Yeah. What you up to?”

  The three Perth guild members chat about their weekend plans, though I’m certain most will be sitting in front of the computers a lot of the time. Thor remains silent, and for once I feel bad he’s not included.

  “What are you doing this weekend, Thor?” I ask.

  “Nothing much.”

  Well, I tried.

  “Erin wants the TARDIS dress for the Con next weekend,” says Cole. “They have them in your store, don’t they? Can you sort her a discount?”

  “I guess…”

  “This the OzSupaCon?” puts in Thor.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Cool. I’m coming to Perth for that.”

  “You are?” I ask. Interesting.

  “Staying with your cousin’s friend for the weekend.”

  “This is awesome!” Tyler enthuses. “The whole guild together. What brings you to Perth just for OzSupaCon?”

  “I go to them all,” he says. “Different guests at each.”

  “Lucky you can afford that,” Tyler replies. “Flights and all.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What job do you do, man?” asks Spencer.

  “I kill dragons on the internet.”

  The conversation stutters to a halt.

  The strangest thing—and one of the things I like the most—is the level playing field that exists with the anonymity in game. I meet people I would never talk to in real life, often surprised that the Elf or human I’ve played with is a sixteen-year-old school kid, or a middle-aged doctor. Social and economic class boils down to nothing; people from all backgrounds work together to kill pixellated creatures and collect virtual objects.

  In a guild, it’s harder to avoid people growing to know you, but most in my guild knew each other before we started playing the game. The group is larger than the four of us, but Thorsday’s not the only one we know little about. Some guild players never speak on the chat server.

  Unless we meet in person, asking questions about a player’s real life feels wrong. And, as in Thorsday’s case, sometimes isn’t welcome.

  If Thor meets us, he’ll reveal more than he wants. But how much will he keep hidden?

  7

  I’m drifting to sleep when Marshall texts me.

 

  I scrub at my eyes and check the time. Two a.m.? What the hell? I bet I can guess…

 

 

 

  I choke with derision. Seriously?

 

  Deep, calming breath, Evie. Do not type the words charging towards your fingertips. Does he honestly think after ignoring me for several days, blanking me at the bar, and with another girl, that I’m up for a late-night visit?

 

 

  Okay? Okay? So I am on a list? ‘Asshole’ doesn’t come close to the words I have in my mind for this guy right now. I put the phone down and scowl at it. That’s the sum total of his contact with me after our night together?

  The text and his attitude eats away at me and I can’t fall back to sleep. My mind drifts: the new quests for the day will have appeared in the game since I logged off. I could complete them now; I won’t have time tomorrow since I’m working. I’ve pulled late nights before, when I haven’t slept and headed to work the next day. No problem.

 
Erin repeatedly tells me I should deal with my gaming addiction. I laugh her off; I spend time with my friends online, that’s all. If I was addicted, I’d never leave the house. Erin pointed out I play more than the others, that the days I spend nine hours straight online isn’t normal. Hell, if that’s the case, there’re a lot of addicted people out there.

  But as I drag myself out of bed, tempted by the in-game rewards and my alternative life, her words niggle. This is better than reaching for alcohol to calm my annoyance, right?

  Yawning, I stare at the game loading screen on my computer, already planning my adventures. I have two quests to finish, one that’s annoyed me for weeks. To complete that quest, I need to find a huge ass, unique tiger and kill it. Easy, right? No. There are tigers everywhere in Aleria and this one, Raavea, takes some finding. Not only that, but if somebody else finds and kills the beast first, Raavea can take at least half an hour to reappear in game. Problem: popular quest plus many players equals countless wasted hours attempting to be the lucky person who kills the tiger first.

  Every time I’ve visited the area where Raavea spawns, I’ve joined at least half a dozen people on the same quest. And each time after half an hour waiting to jump in and failing, I’ve given up and chosen a different quest.

  But the situation is frustrating the hell out of me.

  Thorsday succeeded the first day the quest appeared. Of course. In fact, most of the guild have, and the fact I haven’t turns into a running joke. That, I don’t mind because anybody would be ribbed about it; I’m not being singled out. Everybody has or hasn’t done something in game that’s a source of amusement to others. Sensibly, Thor keeps quiet when the topic comes up in guild chat.

  Tonight’s the night. I can’t kick Marshall in painful places, but I can zap this tiger out of existence and end the day with some satisfaction.

  In the daytime, the game’s main city fills with characters visiting their vaults and trading, but at night the numbers dwindle. When my loading screen ends and the game world appears, I’m happy to see few people online. Less competition for tigery goodness.

  Driven by one goal, I start my journey to Aleria’s jungle.

  Halfway there, a message appears on my screen. I blink; hadn’t considered checking who else was around in the guild.