Backward Compatible: A Geek Love Story

by Sarah Daltry

  “He seems impatient,” Chad says.

  “Is this another video game thing of yours?” asks Anna.

  “Yeah, we have almost all the FDX keys,” Lanyon tells her.

  “What?” shouts Chad. “How many more do you need?”

  “Just one, and our friend found it, but he can’t carry two, so he’s guarding it until we get there,” I say.

  “Holy shit,” Chad continues. “Imagine if you had a level 42 bard. That would be unbelievable.”

  “It would,” Lanyon says. “George is a level 41 bard.”

  Chad jumps up. “What the fuck are we doing at a bowling alley? Let’s get that key.” He then runs out without seeing if we’re following him.

  “Should we go?” Heather asks.

  “FDX party at my house. We can play four live on my system,” I say.

  “First, we need to get our characters,” Katie points out.

  “To the whatever the fuck you guys call your carmobile!” Lanyon shrieks.

  Katie

  After collecting our characters in a race that resembles something out of Pole Position, we make it to George’s house. Since Seynar has one key, Danger has another, and the third is with a dwarf, it’s on us to hang onto the other four. Unfortunately, Lanyon has two, but that’s neither here nor there. I can’t carry another one, so George and Chad debate. We decide that since George is the bard, and Chad now wants in our group, Chad will carry the key.

  Anna sighs and sits on George’s bed, pulling out her phone. I can’t imagine whom she’s texting, since the two people she talks to are here and gaming, but she manages just fine. Heather sits next to her, playing on her DS.

  “Do you want to play?” Lanyon asks Heather. “You can use my character.” To a casual gamer or an observer, this is just basic decency, but to us, this is a declaration of love. We pause as the game cinemas play and stare at Lanyon. “What?” he asks.

  Heather blushes and smiles at him. “No, thanks. I’m wrapped up with Link right now.”

  “Of course. No man on Earth can win a girl’s love in a battle with the almighty Link,” he says.

  She rests her feet on his shoulders, though, and he leans back against her legs. They’re cute, even if she is in high school. Who’d have guessed Chad not only had a sister who was capable of multisyllabic speech, but that he himself was a gamer and all-around decent chap as well? Oh, the oddities of life.

  “We’re here,” George says once Seynar accepts his invite. We find him and Danger, but the chest is nowhere to be found.

  “Where is it?” Lanyon asks.

  “I think it’s that large, glowing chest over there, next to the tree,” I point out, looking over at Lanyon.

  “Huh. I must have missed it,” he says.

  “Yeah, because you were staring at my sister’s glowing chest,” Chad says, glaring a little.

  “Shut up, douche melon,” Heather tells her brother.

  “Are you guys done yet?” Anna asks.

  Chad just shakes his head and heads over to the key. He’s a black mage, which is a nice change of pace. I like playing with people who can, you know, do things. Especially offensively. Danger, ironically, is a white mage, meaning he is of little danger to anyone, but he is also invaluable to us. I don’t know what class the dwarf is playing, but we almost look like a real party now.

  “Someone find the dwarf,” Chad says.

  “We can’t,” I reply.

  “Why not? It’s one level. We can play until George levels up, and then we can beat this bitch.”

  Lanyon whistles. That’s right. He whistles.

  “What?” Chad asks.

  “Well, you see, Chad,” George says, “old Lanyon here thought it would be great to pick up the Sapphire Key as one character and the Emerald as another, so unless we can wake up his thirteen-year-old brother to play his thief, we are short a key.”

  “Wake up his brother,” Chad and I, along with Seynar and Danger, yell.

  Lanyon pulls out his phone. “Trevor is not pleasant when he’s woken from sleep,” he warns.

  George looks at Lanyon. “He’s not pleasant.”

  “When he’s woken from sleep. Right,” Lanyon confirms.

  “Sure. Although I did not note any ellipses at the end of my sentence,” George adds.

  “Brothers,” Heather pipes up. “They’re such fuck balloons.” She continues playing Zelda, though, without waiting to see if anyone will respond. Chad just sighs and hops on the bed with Anna while we wait on Lanyon and his brother. After a heated debate that involves Lanyon offering several comic books and his black label Final Fantasy VII, along with a ride (provided by George, of course) to “yes, any fucking dumbass place you choose,” Trevor opts to join us in battle and El Thiefelo pops up. George invites him to the party.

  “Yo, bitches. It’s gettin’ hot in here,” Trevor says.

  “I hate you, Trevor,” Lanyon says.

  “Do you? Because I have a Sapphire Key here that says you don’t. Unless you want me to leave it right here under this bush.”

  “First of all,” Chad says, “that is not a bush.” He’s too late the hero, though, as the “bush” eats El Thiefelo. “Secondly, the keys can’t be removed from your inventory.”

  Once Trevor respawns, George sends a message to the dwarf.

  “Now what?” I ask.

  “Now,” Lanyon says ominously, “now, we wait.”

  George

  Less than twenty minutes later, the dwarf, Balin1616, joins us. He is predictably playing a warrior dwarf. Trevor has rejoined us as well, along with his loud, obnoxious, trash talking friend, whose gamer tag is Hymen Shatterer. With them and the dwarf, we now have the seven keys and a large adventuring party of nine. Plus, there are three girls in my room. Woo hoo.

  “Now. Where’s the door?” Katie asks.

  “We are efforting that now,” Seynar says in typical douche fashion.

  While we wait, my dad sticks his head into my room. He takes in the six people being loud at 11pm and handles it pretty well. “Hey, if you guys are hungry, you can make sandwiches.”

  “Why are you so obsessed with sandwiches?” I ask.

  “They’re tasty and convenient. Now don’t get too loud. No rough housing.”

  “Rough housing? We’re twenty,” I point out.

  “Fine.” He surveys the scene, noticing the girls. “Then no orgies.” He takes his leave.

  “Well, that didn’t make things odd at all,” Lanyon says.

  Seynar saves the awkwardness with a well-timed announcement. “The door is supposed to be located behind the Waterfall of Forgotten Dreams. It’s by the Cliffs of Asundria.”

  “Of course.” Chad nods. “Where else would it be?”

  A matter of moments and a few travel gates later, our nine characters, joined through four different Xboxes and united for the common goal of being the first to do something, arrive at the ridge of the Cliffs of Asundria.

  “Thusly do I poppeth the first Mountain Dew of this dire and glorious adventure,” speaks Lanyon as he does, indeed, open a Mountain Dew from the case we procured on our way back home. We’re expecting a long and tough night of gaming.

  We stroll around the cliffs for about half an hour, looking for the door. “Where the hell is this stupid door?” Chad asks.

  “It said by the waterfall near the overhanging cliff,” Seynar says.

  “There are a million overhanging cliffs, but not one waterfall,” Katie adds.

  “What do you want from me?” Seynar replies. “I’m just trying to do what the all-powerful internet wants me to do.”

  “Hey, what level are you, George?” Lanyon asks.

  “Still forty-one. But we need to find the door, because I don’t want to accidentally level up to forty-three before we find it.”

  “Good point, sir.” The dwarf is excellent at staying in character. “Hold fast your eyes to the horizon; surely, the waterfall is nigh.”

  “That sounds more pirate t
han dwarf,” says Lanyon.

  For no good reason, I decide to play my lute. The ground shakes and boulders begin to rain from the cliffs. “There,” shouts the dwarf. “My infravision has detected the falls. They lie beyond that rock.”

  “It isn’t your infravision, Balin,” Chad says. “The rocks just broke loose. We can all see the falls.”

  “To the falls then!” Lanyon yells and we’re off. “Behind the thick misting clouds of ashen water, a massive door built of elven wood and the eyelashes of angels rises up before you.”

  “The subtitles aren’t even on,” I say.

  “Sometimes I make up my own,” he responds.

  “That’s pretty good,” Heather says. “That is one big ass door.”

  “The lady doth speak true. Though it is hard to hear, as she is not near the mic,” says Balin. “Yonder door is, most assuredly, big assed.”

  “This must be the door. Uh, use the keys, I guess,” Seynar instructs us.

  “Hang on. First, let me kill some stuff so I can get to level forty-two.” I roam back out along the fields in search of some creatures, but as is always the case when you want to find something, there is nothing there.

  “No problem,” says Trevor. “Clovis is going to use his flute of monster summoning to get you some targets.” There’s a burst of rage-clouded dialogue rumbling in the distance behind Trevor’s mic.

  “Clovis?” Chad says. “The Hymen Shatterer’s name is Clovis. Well, that is just a damn shame.”

  “Yeah. It’s sad. Blow your flute, Clovis,” Trevor says. There are more shouts of anger, but then music plays and we are suddenly surrounded by a bunch of monsters.

  We defeat the creatures, who are not that powerful, until I manage to hit level forty-two. “Okay. Let’s get through this door and quick.”

  We go back through the waterfall and to the door. One at a time, the members of our party with keys insert them into the door. The door begins to hum violently with each addition. Once Chad places the last key in the door, the whole world shakes and the door begins to speak.

  “Cool. Subtitles,” says Lanyon.

  “Shut up,” I tell him

  The door speaks. “Congratulations. You have found the seven keys, but your true journey has just begun. Only the music of the secret of life can open the door. But be forewarned. Inside awaits a monster so powerful and vile that many will not survive. Also inside, however, lies the glory and the means to defeat Apocmandur. Know this, adventurers. Inside these gates, there is a room where ye may pass only once. Death is final. Choose wisely and play.”

  “Apocmandur?” Chad asks.

  “That must be the name of the boss,” Katie says.

  “Pass once and death is final. So, no respawn and we have to do it all in one sitting,” I say. “Glad there are nine of us. No respawn in a game like this is tough. Good thing we have a white mage.” I take out my lute. “All right, fellows. Hold onto your butts.”

  Katie

  Just as we’re about to head down the hallway ahead of us, Ally comes online. I invite her into our party. “Hurry,” I say. “We’re almost to the hidden item or whatever kills this thing.”

  “You know,” Seynar offers, “now we have to split the money ten ways instead of nine.”

  “Ten thousand by ten. It will be easier and you suck at math,” George says.

  “You suck at math,” Seynar retorts. George sneaks up behind him and stabs him.

  “Really? Here?” Seynar asks incredulously.

  “Nowhere is safe, my friend,” George replies.

  While we wait for Seynar to respawn, we also direct Ally to our location. Fortunately, she can understand Lanyon’s directions, which include “take the left by the boulder that looks like that rock guy in The Neverending Story” and “you see that tree by the bush that looks like a Jawa?” She arrives just as Seynar reappears and, now, ten of us make our way down a dark tunnel.

  “Do not play a song,” I warn George.

  “Okay,” he says. “Although-”

  “No,” the other nine of us say. Even Clovis the Hymen Shatterer.

  Chad uses a few fire spells to guide us and we walk deeper into the cave behind the waterfall.

  “Is anyone else uncomfortable with the fact that there are absolutely no monsters here?” Lanyon asks.

  “I hate you,” George says, as he’s taken out by some kind of Gollum-looking creature. “Am I out already?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say. “The door said something about a room.” Sure enough, he respawns and runs back down the cave halls, catching up with the party as we take out the Gollum things.

  “How did that thing kill me in one hit? What is it?” George asks.

  “Hold on,” Seynar, our resident FDX Wikipedia page, says. He clears his throat and reads, “‘In one out of every 1000 attacks, the Asundrian Cave Dweller will utilize an attack called Tears of Doom. This attack takes all but 1 HP off the victim, leaving the player near death and, if there are other Cave Dwellers in the vicinity, without a fast-acting white mage, the player will die.’”

  “Thanks, Danger,” George mumbles.

  “Sorry,” he replies.

  “Whatever.” We continue to battle and Lanyon, near death, requests healing. As Danger prepares his spell, George calls out to Lanyon. “Hey, Lanyon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember that time we were playing Resident Evil and we were in the basement of the mansion and you said, ‘wouldn’t it be funny if there were sharks in the water down here?’”

  Lanyon chuckles. “Yeah. And then you were eaten by a shark and had to navigate all the way back through the mansion?”

  “Yeah. Hilarious,” George replies and he takes out Lanyon before Danger casts his spell.

  “Okay. I deserved that,” Lanyon concedes.

  “Maybe,” I suggest, “we could actually, I don’t know, not kill each other?”

  “I just wasted my turn,” Danger complains.

  Anna looks up suddenly and taps me on the shoulder. “Are you guys almost done?”

  “Um, no. I don’t think so,” I reply. “Why?”

  “I’m bored.”

  “Go make us some sandwiches,” Chad tells her.

  Normally, I would be a little offended at the inherent sexism in such a comment, but one, clearly Anna has not been paying much attention, and two, well, a sandwich sounds good.

  “Yeah, sandwiches,” says Lanyon, and the room erupts in a chorus of “sandwiches.”

  Heather and Anna, somehow okay with the role of sandwich wenches, head to the kitchen. George’s dad sticks his head in just as we clear out the Gollums and continue down the pathway.

  “Hey, those girls are making sandwiches,” he tells George.

  “I know, Dad.”

  “All right. Just wanted you to know. Don’t use all the bread.”

  “Dad, you contain multitudes,” George says.

  “Okay. Good night.” And he leaves.

  “Whitman?” I ask. “Did you just quote Whitman to your dad?”

  “George is an English major,” Lanyon informs us all. “Because he hates money and jobs.”

  “I see,” I reply.

  “Says the art history major,” Lanyon counters.

  “Well, at least we will raise our children in an extremely cultured refrigerator box,” George says.

  It’s a good thing the path ends and we enter a giant circular room with several glowing pedestals. I want to address the children remark, since we have not even officially done, well, anything other than roll around in his sheets and on top of his car, but there are more pressing matters. Like the fact that Balin is ready to pick shit up without consulting us all first.

  “Don’t pick that up!” I yell.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “I’m sure there is a puzzle here.”

  “Puzzle schmuzzle,” he replies as he picks up a sword. And then he explodes.

  “Hurry up and respawn, asshole,” Seynar grumbles.<
br />
  “Um, guys…” Balin says.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m back at the Wayward Inn.”

  “What?”

  There’s a lot of noise as we try to ascertain what happened until Seynar clears his throat and reads from the internet, “‘Once you reach the Room of Reckoning, only the bard can choose your weapon. Only the bard may approach and there is only one choice. If the bard fails to make the right choice, the party will be removed. If another party player tries to choose, he or she will be sent back to the Wayward Inn and will no longer be a part of the adventure.”

  “What the fuck?” Balin whines. “What am I supposed to do in a fucking inn?”

  “Sleep? Recover your health and stamina? Drink some mead? Bang a barmaid?”

  “Lanyon, as enticing as your suggestions sound, does this mean I’m out?” he asks.

  “Sadly, yes,” Seynar confirms. “So back to nine.”

  “Ten little adventurers entered a creepy shrine. One got into dumbassitry and then there were nine,” George says.

  “Stop reading books,” Lanyon tells him. “You sound like a little bitch.”

  I pat George’s knee. “I think it was cute. Now go choose our weapon. And don’t forget-”

  “Choose wisely, bizznitch,” Trevor interrupts.

  George

  “What the hell? There are like thirty choices.” I scan the room and dozens of pedestals, each holding a floating weapon of some kind, begin to fill the floor from wall to wall.

  “It will be easy,” says Lanyon.

  “How will it?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Katie jumps in. “It’s a mystery.”

  “Yes, but an easy mystery,” Lanyon adds. “Just check them all out. I bet most of them will be huge axes and swords and such. But one will be a shoelace or something stupid. Pick that.”

  “Hmmm. There does seem to be some sense in that,” Seynar agrees.

  “Let’s split up, bitches. You know we gots to find that weapon,” Trevor says. I clear my throat in what I hope is a threatening manner. “Indeed. We should each see what options are available,” he corrects.