by Auryn Hadley
"Destiny?" Her mom called. "Did you get your homework done?"
"Yeah, Mom. Like hours ago. Hey, don't forget. I have that interview with EA next week. I wanna call Dad and see if he knows what I should expect for pay."
"You're seventeen years old!" Her mom sounded exasperated instead of thrilled. "You need to get a degree, or you'll never have a real career."
"Doesn't work like that anymore, Mom. Hey, I gotta go. TGC has a segment on a new MMO. Yell at me tomorrow, but I know the debate by heart, ok? Love ya, night!"
And she fled before her mother could say anything else. Two minutes past, she was back at her machine, thankful that this show had a long intro. She cracked the Coke and took a big gulp, slipping on her headphones.
" – Up and coming development company. Chance Hunter is here to tell us how Deviant Games plans to change the entire landscape of the gaming scene."
The camera moved to an amazingly beautiful man. His eyes were greyish and sparkled with intelligence, his smile was perfect, but his hair was startlingly red. Naturally red, but he not only pulled it off, he made it delicious. Destiny grabbed her phone and sent a text to her best friend, warning her that this show would be worth watching for the hottie if nothing else.
"Deviant Games plans to compete with the other AAA companies. Unlike most indie game developers, we have the financial backing to make this happen. Our first project is Silk. Set in a fantasy realm unlike any you've seen before, Silk explores the galaxy through trade, travel, and of course, the battles that go with it. The journey is smooth as, well, Silk."
His voice was nice, too. He had to be the public face for the company. No, the text across the bottom of the screen said he was the owner and a developer himself. Chance Hunter. She'd have to look into him – for completely professional reasons, of course!
Then the camera panned out, showing concept art for the game. The world was like a fairy tale. Most modern games were going hard and dirty, with deserts and post-apocalyptic scenes. Silk was swinging the other way. The flowers were gigantic, the trees were in vivid colors, and everything was green and lush. In the sky were visible planets, each of them colored differently, offering the potential for more worlds in the future.
"’Combined arms’ is a common term for first person shooters," Chance went on. "What we want to do is bring this idea to Silk. Infantry – whether that's for player vs. player or player vs. the environment – will require actual player skill, not just button mashing. Conversely, vehicular combat, which includes powerful mechanical suits, will give players an auto-locking system. Most of us call this tab targeting. We also hope to have a storyline that is intricate, detailed, and fresh. Raids will no longer be 'tank and spank.' In order to succeed, our fans will have to challenge themselves to do more and do it better."
"How far along is the project?" the announcer asked.
Chance smiled. "Not far enough. Deviant Games has been working for eight months to get a functional development platform and game engine. We've achieved that and are now diving into making this dream of ours – the entire game community's – a reality."
"So, should we expect the typical races? Elves, dwarves, and the like?"
"No." Chance smiled like he had a secret. "The old races are tried and true, but also tired. Think more Star Wars and less Lord of the Rings." He tilted his head. "We also plan to push the boundaries in other areas. Male, white, and straight will not necessarily be the standard for Silk. This world of ours is diverse. We have people with different sexual orientations, different races, and different religions. Why would a fantasy realm that spans multiple planets be any different? In Silk, women are not objects; they are people. Armor is not dental floss – unless you find one of the rare magic pieces available to either sex character. And, not all races come in just two sexes. Some aliens may be... different."
"Is this a game or a comment on the state of society?"
"Aren't all games a comment on society, or our desire to escape from it? This is a game, meant to be played for fun, but one that gives everyone a place to belong." Chance leaned back. "That is why we play."
The large screen behind him flickered to a blurred and distorted clip of a game. It looked a lot like FoxFlight. She squinted, trying hard to make it out while the reporter kept going.
"Rumors say that you're an avid gamer yourself. Playing a lot doesn't necessarily make you able to create something good, though. What do you say to this?"
"They're right." Chance turned to look at what was playing. "Yeah. That's me. Unfortunately, no matter how much I try to assure the public that Silk will be the next best thing, only time will prove that. We want to learn from the mistakes of other games, not copy them. Most of us know about the debacle with that one Star Wars game or how FoxFlight doubled their subscriptions by listening to the community. That is video game history. With that said, we also realize that our community won't always be right. Making a game easier isn't necessarily better. We get frustrated by the challenge and rant, but we all secretly love it. It gives us a feeling of success to overcome the impossible."
It was FoxFlight! That meant his character information was that blur at the bottom left. She squinted harder, turned her head, and pulled her eyes open, trying to make it out. Damned professional videographers and their ability to distort the information she wanted. His character name was just four letters. E? Second letter was definitely a Y. R or N? She leaned her nose to her monitor.
Chance was still talking. "I think Destiny Pierce from The Gamer's Fate just posted a brilliant article about what the player base is looking for. In a word: inclusion. That is exactly what we hope Silk will be."
Her heart hung in her chest. He'd just said her name. Her name! He'd just given her blog the biggest promotion she'd ever had! Not that she really had a problem with her viewership, but more readers meant more advertising dollars, which meant more respect in the community. That this guy read her blog was great, but that he cited her as a credible source?
The four letters suddenly coalesced in her mind. Fyre. "Holy shit," she breathed. "You fucking listened to me."
***
The Gamer's Fate
A Blog on the State of Gaming
By Destiny Pierce
The future of the MMO market is looking interesting, to say the least. At this time of year, developers try to increase their investment money by hyping the newest games in the pipeline. A few brave souls have already announced their products instead of waiting for F5 like the big names. Here's a short list, and something to hold you all over until I can satisfy your appetites for some real gamer news.
• Star Wars – Yes, it's true, they're making another MMO based on this IP.
• Earth 2.0 – Will it be console only? There're a few hints that a PC version might be a reality. Unfortunately, most of the hype for this game is from unsubstantiated leaks. The screenshots look amazing. The game mechanics and the potential for cooperation with another, more popular MMO are inspiring. Fingers crossed on this one, but I'm willing to bet that concrete news will be sparse.
• Silk – O.M.G. These guys may be the wave of the future. [Check out the interview with Chance Hunter on The Gamer Channel here]. If they can manage to pull this off, I think a few big names might be scared. Expect to see popular titles try to steal their ideas and rush them into production (expansions for existing MMOs) before Silk can change the world.
• WoW's next expansion – Oh c'mon, we all know it's coming. I'm going to bet there are some pigs and at least one poo quest. Probably a new set of gear, a new raid, and a whole new set of daily quests to keep us playing.
Reader Comments:
Anonymous: If you leave your house, I will get you. I will rape you. I will kill you. Keep your vag out of my games, you don't know shit.
Anonymous: Who gave U the right to say what I like?
Discreet: Love your blog! Saw it on TGC!
Anonymous: I'm gonna kill you, bitch. I'm gonna rape your mouth hole and kill you.
KZP12: No way Earth will go to PC. No money in it. Already have Dust, so don't need it.
Minx: Post these sexist comments over on Fat, Ugly, or Slutty. They're epic.
Anonymous: How'd you get the damage modifier numbers for Aimed Shot in yesterday's post?
Anonymous: I know what you look like. I know where you live.
Anonymous: Fuck me, Destiny. I want to fuck your little ass.
Anonymous: She won't look pretty after I'm done with her. Fat little fuck. Oh Destiny, you shoulda kept your nose outta the boys club, bitch.
KZP12: You guys are seriously fucked up. If you hate what she says, that's one thing, but damn.
Anonymous: You think you're hot shit bitch? Yeah? Just wait until I'm done with you. I'll tie your ass up and rape you over and over until you never touch a game again. Bitches like you ruined MMOs. We'll make sure that no one will want you when we're done, and you'll beg us for more. Damned bitch like you? Getting raped's the best thing you can hope for. I won't even bitch that you're so damned fat. I wanna see you cry, Destiny. I'll fucking rape you until you cry, then drink all your damned tears. Ain't no one gonna find you either. Up the ass, in the mouth, and I'll rip your twat so wide any other man will feel like a damned broomstick in a cave. You should have quit, you cunt. You're mine now, and I know where you are.
Soul_Reaper: I'm screenshotting this shit. That's just fucked up.
KZP12: Hey, wasn't a new blog due today?
Minx: Been three days since her last post. What happened?
Soul_Reaper: Email attached to my account. Contact me for screenshots. Destiny hasn't posted in a week, and she always is on time. Anyone heard anything?
Minx: Nothing. Wonder if the guys with little dicks finally got her to quit.
Soul_Reaper: maybe she's finally on the inside?
Anonymous: Destiny Pierce is my bitch.
Soul_Reaper: Nine days? Seriously? Anyone heard anything?
Soul_Reaper: Update – police contacted me today for screenshots of older comment sections. I think something happened to Destiny. I may not agree with her on everything, but I hope she comes back. I hope she's ok.
Anonymous: Prayers for Lachesis.
Anonymous: Destiny we miss you.
KZP12: [click here for video] Found that on the news. Shit looks bad, guys. Someone abducted her. Destiny is missing.
Soul_Reaper: Shit, that sucks. Hope she's ok.
Anonymous: Hope she's still alive.
Anonymous: Prayers for Destiny.
Anonymous: We miss you Destiny.
Chapter 1
Three years later...
Dez swallowed two pills, washing them back with ice cold water from the fountain outside the break room, then headed back to the floor. Polished concrete and orange signs assaulted the eyes, but the smell of wood was worth it. Just a couple more hours and she'd be off work.
Turning into her aisle, she saw a pair of low-slung jeans and a nicely stretched t-shirt under a swath of ginger hair. The man scratched at his jaw absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the spools of cable before him. For a moment, she thought about pretending he didn't exist, but she needed the job too bad.
"Can I help you find something?"
He turned casually as if he expected her to do his bidding. "I'm setting up a network. Need to hook up twenty-four computers."
Dez grunted, shoving out her lower lip while she thought. Damn, she felt all blurry around the edges. "What kinda data you running? I mean, if it's typical office work, that's one thing, but if you're running tech support or, god forbid, coding, you'll be cussing at me in a week."
His silver eyes finally saw her, looking past the lean frame and hints of tattoos at her collar. He looked at her, seeing more than the shell she wore on the outside, then his eyes dropped, leaving an oily film in her mind. He paused at the name tag on her orange apron.
"Candice?" he asked. "Well, can you tell me where I can find someone capable of setting this up on a budget?" Why did he look familiar?
"Sure." She plastered on a synthetic smile and gestured for him to follow, not waiting for him to get close. "We have a list of contractors at the front desk."
He jogged a few steps to fall in at her side. Only then did she realize just how tall he was. At least six foot three. Dez took a slow breath and moved over just a bit, feeling her heart rate increase at the proximity. Thankfully, the Vicodin was starting to kick in. She'd be fine in a minute. Just act normal and he wouldn't notice.
"Any of these guys good?" he asked.
A wry chuckle slipped out. It was just one, and almost under her breath, but he heard. "They do exactly what you pay them to. It's called a budget."
The fire god slowed, reaching out for her arm, and Dez jerked back in a panic. "Sorry," he said gently, giving her space. "Look, I need this to be stable. I'm rebuilding an old warehouse into our development center. We've got six months, and I need everyone in one place so we can get the program working."
He looked serious. He also looked a little worried. What he didn't realize was that he'd just spoken her language. She smiled but kept herself well out of his reach. "Yeah, I know a guy. Sounds like you're trying to break into the game or social media markets." She started walking again, not waiting to see if he'd follow.
"Something like that," he mumbled, trailing after her obediently.
She hated having people behind her, but it was better than when they touched her. She couldn't do touching. Not like the rest of the world really cared. Shaking hands, hugs, a friendly pat on the back – people did it all the time and never thought about it. But for the last three years, Dez couldn't take it. The only way she made it through the day was if she got high enough to forget. Unfortunately, that also meant high enough that she could barely keep a job.
By the time she reached the front desk, she was feeling it: that warm embrace just under her skin and the cotton wallowing in the back of her head. She could do this. Just a few more hours, then she could bail on this shit job and get home to get high.
"LeAnne? You got a card for Ian Black?" she asked the woman behind the computer.
The lady lifted her head, barely able to conceal her disgust. "He's not on the list, Dez."
Dez shrugged. "Customer needs technical wiring, not home renovations. Unless you know someone else?"
"We're not supposed to give out cards for contractors that aren't certified with the company."
The man had moved beside her, his elbows leaning against the counter as he followed the exchange, but his eyes were on Dez's neck. She shifted away from him and he lifted his head, moving a step in the opposite direction, the corner of his mouth twisting higher.
"Nice tattoo," he said.
She ignored it. Fucking idiot probably couldn't read it anyway. "Look. I can just give out his number, but figured I'd try to play by the rules." Leaning over the counter, she grabbed a pen and a slip of paper meant for writing down product codes.
The reach exposed another set of ink across her lower back. She knew the bastard beside her was looking, and she wanted to jam the pen into his eyes. Instead, she just took a deep breath and reached back to pull down her shirt. Scribbling quickly, she wrote down the number of the best network guy she knew. He handled everything from office installation and design to software. Hopefully, the asshole checking out her ass would appreciate it. She knew Ian would.
"This guy can set you up. Tell him I sent you."
The customer tapped the desk, indicating he had no intention of taking the paper from her hand. "Chance, by the way."
Ice washed over her body. It wasn't possible. "Chance Hunter?" she asked.
His eyes closed in a slow blink and his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. It was definitely him. What the hell was he doing here? Shouldn't he be in Texas or California?
"Yeah, Ian can help ya. Tell him Dez sent you."
"Dez, huh?"
"Yeah, he knows me. Good luck with Silk. You're gonna fucking need it."
&
nbsp; "Hey!" LeAnne snapped. "Language!"
"Yeah, sorry." She tossed the pen across the desk and headed back into the store, writing off the rich geek and his project with each step. There was no way he'd recognize her.
Hour and a half, that's all she needed. Pulling the bottle from her pocket, she scooped out two more pills, palming them as she hid the bottle again. Her eyes scanned the people wandering aimlessly through the hardware store, waiting for the chance to suck them back where she wouldn't get caught. Turning into the plumbing aisle, she got it so tossed them into her mouth, chewing once before she swallowed them dry. That would make the time go faster.
The shrinks said she was fine. They thought she was trying to play the system. They told her that if she wanted to get back into society, she had to make an effort. What they couldn't understand was that she didn't want back in society. She wanted to stay far away from it. She didn't want to be around any more people!
Until the drugs kicked in, Dez busied herself with straightening the shelves and restocking the bins. That was easy enough. She kept asking to be transferred to nights, where she could spend her time working with boxes, but they didn't believe she could lift the merchandise. Five foot, four inches, and maybe a hundred and ten pounds, what they couldn't wrap their mind around was that she could do anything it took to stay far away from another living soul.
Somehow, she managed to survive another day at work. Martin eventually showed up, waving at her from a distance to let her know she could clock out. Dez peeled off the orange apron and headed up the stairs to the break room as fast as she could without drawing attention. Tossing the piece of crap in her locker, she tapped her code into the time management system and saw the confirmation slide across in blue LED, then turned to leave just as LeAnne sauntered up the stairs.
The middle-aged woman looked her over and shook her head. "Are you high?"
"Nope. I'm also off the clock. Have a nice evening."