Chapter 10
BuzzFeed
So after all that CARNAGE and BLOODBATH (more like acid bath, but tomato, tomatah), I wished to get me and Corenya AND the Avogadrills flying mounts…
But unfortunately, it was not meant to be…
[Invalid Target]
“MOTHERFUCK!!”
Alright, so that’s trash, Robots and… I wanna say the skin(?) of a killed Mob, I cannot Raise for the moment.
And PLUS, should shit require an aerodynamic touch, I can always rehearse with the Gnomes to carry me! In the next quarter of an hour… then I’ll have to rinse and repeat with a new batch of Deadlings, dammit…
At least… they can enjoy themselves a little bit more. Look at them playing! Ooh, that one’s got the hat of his bro! And that one’s doing a race! And that one’s chewing off its own arm! And those two are giving each other beard wedgies!
…
I run my fingers through my hair and wince when I hit the fresh bald patch, from the phantom pain and memory of it… It stings, but not as much as the INDIGNITY of having a chunk of my… somewhat beautiful… mane ripped out by Twilight Sparkle’s body double.
“Ohhhh, the horror…” I lean on one of my Avogadrills; I hold the clump where a hand was supposed to be, of another Avogadrill…
“Corenya…!” I call out to my vampire knight from another dimension. “How come the common file and rank are better at comforting me than YOU??”
Corenya marched behind us all, as if she didn’t want to be one of us. “I grieve in silence for you.” That flatness in her tone tells me otherwise…
“Oh my god, I just REMEMBERED!!” I stop dead in my tracks. “Drilliam! William!! And Doc, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, Sneezy, Dopey… YOU’RE all gonna dieeeee…!” I crumple to the floor like a wet rag full of BUGGERS and TEAARS!!
“I command all of you to do a group hug…!” Wish granted, because the Avogadrills hugged my neck, while the 7 dwarves hugged my legs. I think Happy was a little too happy, since he got real close to… my diamonds…
“Ugh…” I turn back to see Corenya cross her arms and look up at the sky. “Holy shit, I’m SUCH a cluts, how could I forget the MVP…? You GUYS!” I croak. “Let’s give Corenya a hug, too!”
“No, there is no— uuUAAGHH!!”
“Get in here, Cory…!” Me and the team just can’t help ourselves. Since there’s more of us and they have wings, the Gnomes get to hug anything above her neck, and me and the moleman get everything else.
“hhhrgh…!” Aww, she’s enjoying herself~!
We gingerly retreat. Too much sugariness can cause diabetes.
“If you want to swell your ranks with these lessers, then why are we switching the hunting grounds?” I asked Corenya, who seemed a little aloof to what I wanted.
“The currents of the matter are dead-set on family and friends! But hold up a sec!” I say, as she said something that could be big. “Do Monsters respawn?”
“Well, yes,” She said, with a lot of hate in that last word. “Entities, or Monsters, as you and other feeble beings call them, are tied to a habitat of their choosing. They leave a piece of their souls, which regenerates over time to create more of their ilk.”
Translation: yupyup!
“Soooo… do they rise back from their dirt naps in an hour or so?”
“No. It takes one full day and night for them to recover.”
“Ah, makes sense,” I say, but I feel like we can get MORE from this topic! “Do they happen to get a boost of power sometimes? Or do they happen to, once in a really long while, turn GOLD?!”
…
“Your vanity over such trivial matters is… typical.” Aww, what, she’s wiping the spots were Grumpy and Dopey sat…
“Typical of what? Teenagers? Humans? Living beings in general?” I bounce along with her, waving my arms dramatically.
She just looked someplace else! “C’mon, throw me a bone here! Is it so bad to have a pulse, breathe, and take #1s and #2s from now and then?” I say, but she doesn’t budge at all. Let’s just give her an out, then… “Or are you talking about caring about my hair problems?”
“…Yes.” Her answer is as blunt as her shield.
“Well, excuse ME for caring about my appearance!” I croak. “Not all of us can rock the eternal-unfeeling-death-knight look,” I grumble, but there’s not much bite in it.
“And what look are you ‘rocking,’ exactly? That of a beggar?” She said it with the tiniest infusion of humor ever.
“Huh?” I look down, and whaddya know, the rags did not grow into a new shirt. “Now that you mention it, I’m kinda in-between selections…” Total fucking bullshit, I do NOT wanna have the Mad-Maxian looks nor the regular attires from The Walking Dead…
“But nevermind that, let’s focus in on that ‘eternal’ part…” I start rubbing my hands together.
“Just how old ARE you, anyway…? Did you mayhaps catch the dinosaurs? Did you ride a woolly mammoth to work?” Wait, why am I zoning on the theory that she’s from earth?
There’s a pause and for a second I think she’s just gonna ignore me again… Until—
“I lived during what your historians would call the Dark Ages, though in a world different from this one,” she says, her voice echoing inside her helmet. “My realm was one of constant warfare between the living and the dead.”
“Ooh, yeah, does NOT sound like a good time…” What DOES sound great is the prospect of the MULTIVERSE!!!
I can ALREADY imagine myself being someone completely different!! A rock-star, a 90’s astronaut, a greek God in search for revenge…
OOH! Could Corenya be one of my multiversal selves? Which just so happens to be 2 and a half meters? And a vampire? And a girl?
Hmmm…
“Corenya, would your woman’s intuition say that i’d look fabulous in a dress??” I gingerly ask, fufufu~!
“HUUuuaah…”
Yeah, didn’t think so, either…
“So I guess it’s safe to say that you never saw cars, strange buildings and INDOOR plumbing, amIright?”
“Yes and no. We had our Magic and Tomb Worlds. Also, the technologies of war.” Her answers are clipped but not entirely dismissive.
“Oooh, so all THIS—” i wave my arms at our surroundings. “—must be a lot to take in, huh?”
As if on cue, a fire hydrant catches Corenya’s eye. She stops and crouches by the tiny red thing.
“What manner of device is this?” She asks, poking it with her gauntleted finger.
Alright David, you get to make a first impression only once!
“Oh, THAT?” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “Only one of the greatest innovations of mankind— the ejaculator!!” I say. “You can bathe if you forgot to do it at home, and you can bathe your pets, too. Also, you can DRINK from these bad boys if you’re super parched! Ooh, and Fighters of fire use it when there’s a serious case of torching.”
“Ah, after the raiding and pillaging?” She says.
“More like after forgetting to turn off the smart bonfires.”
“Hm, so where were these Fighters of Fire when we slew those Were-Moles? It seems like they had better things to do if they are the puissant warriors you make them out to be.” She gets up to speak to me, completely immersed in my tale!
“Pretty sure they’re fighting their own battles. And so are the cops, the military, Kung-Fu masters, basically everybody…” Once again, if military bases and police stations turned into Dungeon, then we, yes, you AND me…
…Are kinda screwed… Boy, I sure hope that nukes didn’t come to life… or into Loot…
“A pretty tale,” She says, a little amused. “Too bad that it is a fake one.” Ooh, so our link can detect lies. Wait, I’m not broadcasting my thoughts into her brain, am I?
“IS IT THOUGH?!” I challenge, then crack up laughing at myself. “Okaaay, you got me, I am so full of shit~!” I am an asshole, but GAWD, can’t blame me for putting a colored spin on it. “It’s just a plain ol’ fire hydrant, nothing more. But you CAN do all those things! If you know how to open it, which most of us have no idea how…”
A car alarm suddenly goes off down the street, as one of the Dwarves broke a mirror, and Corenya’s face instantly drops.
“Whoa, easy there! It’s just a car!” I mean, hopefully. Since it didn’t run us down by now, I’d wager it didn’t turn into a Transformer or something.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“These metal boxes are like, our mounts! Sometimes they scream when they’re scared or lonely.”
“Are these contraptions… alive?” A-ha, so the connection CAN get muffled if I don’t think about stuff!
“Nah, I’m just fucking with you!” I giggle. “They’re man-made constructs, basically metal horses that run on exploding juice instead of hay. People use them to get around faster.”
“And everybody gets a car?”
“Yup! Provided if you are of driving age, 18 in this corner of the world or 21 elsewhere,” I say a little hoarsely.
“Your realm is strange…”
“Oh, THAT’S strange?!” I say, genuinely flabbergasted. “You can shoot out your muscles, live forever, be goth and taken seriously, and lots of other cool shit, but THIS!” I say as I point at the abandoned vehicle. “This is where you draw the line, coolcoolcool!” I roll my eyes. “Trust me, it’s anything but.”
We walk in silence for a moment before it hits me.
“Hey Nya?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, alrighty then~!” Commencing awkard pause, then breaking said pause with: “Hey Cory?”
“Yes, Summoner?”
“What’s your favorite playstyle?” I begin casually.
“I do not understand.” Seems like she doesn’t wanna take another peep at my brain. Totally understandable.
“You know, like… what’s your best Attribute to rise? Do you have Skills that depend on certain Attributes? Or do you like to play more on the offense rather than defense?”
Again, I am met with the goddamn silent treatment!
I guess this door is completely locked off… Still, if I can give it one good push…
“Can you tell me how to Level Up faster? Are there secret Quests scattered around? How do I get a Dracolich?”
More silence, heavier this time.
“C’moooon, please tell me how to metagame?” I plead and start hopping around her. “Just one teensy-weensy tip! A hint! Nay, a really cryptic clue! I’ll take it to the grave, on Walahi!”
Corenya stopped walking and I nearly bumped into her massive chest plate. She looks down at me, and even though I can’t see her face, I can FEEL her toasty stare…
“I am not a game.” She says simply.
“When did—”
“I am not a GAME!” she repeats, and her eyes flare up, just like 5 or 10 minutes ago… “I am death given form. I am the inevitable end that awaits all! I am a conqueror of flesh, the destroyer of worlds. I do not ‘play.’”
…
I raise my hands in the air and slowly back off. She wordlessly returns to marching ahead of me.
…
“Hey, FYI? This whole mysterious act only makes me MORE curious!” I say. “So yea, I'M STILL gonna try to Metagame.” I can’t help it; it just SLIPPED before I could think otherwise!
As we continue down the streets, with my Zombie Butterfly-Gnomes floating ahead like scouting drones, i also CAN’T help but feel that despite allat stoicism, Corenya enjoys herself with me? That could be me projecting or just being nucking futs, but who’s to say anymore?!
I can Raise the Dead.
I have a Vampire Knight and a shitload of zombies!
Life is pre-TAY good, even in the apocalypse, if I say so myself!
We’re about to cross Main Street when something darts out from behind an overturned trash can.
A possum the size of a German Shepherd with lots of colored bubbles stretching its skin and a Dog that looks like a mop? Pretty sure those were a thing of the past, though?
Whoops, nevermind, looks like it has two heads on different ends.
“Hey, that rhymed!” I beam up! “Get those mathafuckaaAAS!!”
“*SKREEE!!*” *VRRRRR* “Come meet your end, vermin.”
[-23] [-8] [-13] [-21] [-19] [Critical Hit — (-16] [Critical Hit — (-16)] [Critical Hit — (-16)] [Critical Hit — (-16)] [Critical Hit — (-16)]
*CRUNCH*
[Critical Hit — (-52)]
[+50 XP]
The fight’s over in like… 10 seconds. The ‘possum thing gets its stomach and ribcage crushed by Cory, instantly killing it on the spot. Meanwhile, all the rest of my Undead focus all their attention on turning the knock-off Cerberus into a twitching heap of fur.
[+50 XP]
“Man, we are SO crushing the whole ‘end of times’ thing~!” I spin in place, then crouch down to the my spoils of war.
[Fur Scraps] x1
[Polka-dot] x2
Wow…
Un-fucking-lucky, i guess… Maybe their Undead counterparts are a better haul?
“Arise.” I shoot my special goo at their faces and their lifelessness goes away. The brain atrophy is still present, only slightly more tolerable. neat!
The Possum looks more sickly, not pale, but greenish. Its vibrant colors are all replaced by purple. Man, how I wish I could customize that…
“Inspect!”
DAMN, what a trooper…! Or is my re-skinning THAT much more powerful? Also, no Zombie adjective? Weird! Weird.
Anyway, what about you, top dawg?
Ooh, two minions for the price of one? Not bad…
Alright, I’m hella content, good hunt y’all!
“Status!”
Oh damn, how long were those Skill points sitting here? I guess I kinda went overboard…
Should I put more points in Raise Dead? Don’t get me wrong, I love me a good army, but does that really mean I have to let other Skills starve?
Hmmm…
Nah, let’s give the other Skills a chance, too!
[Tally of the Dead Level 1 ? Tally of the Dead Level 2]
- Your Max Undead = Base Slots + [Energy/18] (0)
- Each bonus-slot minion suffers -4% Damage and -4% Lifespan
“AWW, fuck a rubber duck…” My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined.
“What?” My knight in dull armor turned her attention on me.
“Oh, nothing, it’s just that I got fuckin’ ROBBED in daylight!” I yell.
“*Siiigh* I put a Skill Point in one of those mastery Skills that requires a lotta love, otherwise it’s a lotta bullshit.” I croak miserably; the thought of dumping hundreds of points into just ONE Skill, other than Raise Dead, is super fucking RETARDED-ASS shit!!”
“Hm.” Solid words of encouragement, friendo…
Oh well… Least I got my main piece to make me feel better!
But before I could take my favorite skill to the next Level, me and my stormtroopers were still marching down Main Street, and by some amazing STROKE of strokes, I spotted a familiar storefront in the corners off, of course, but I'd recognize that blue-and-red-striped pole anywhere.
“DUUUUUUDE!!” I screech to a halt and point frantically. “Pit STOP, let’s do a PIT stop!” I scream as I go to FRESH CUTS!! With a Z at the end.
“This is PERFECT!!” I say as I search for the necessary tools, since there’s NO ONE to handle me, unlucky…
“Wait, this is the important place you were talking about?” Said Corenya, as she forced the doorway to fit her not-so-delicate frame. As for my Zombies, they just played the role of sentry since… there’s not a whole lotta time to give 'em a good trim AND let them enjoy it.
“Uhh, NO?! And also YES?!” I roll my eyes dramatically. “I can FINALLY fix that Raymond-induced baldness! And past mistakes...” I say, as I check for the cutting machine thingies. “Looking BALLAH in the apocalypse is, like, priority number 3 after ‘don’t die’ and ‘get SHITLOADS of XP’!”
*BZZZZZZ*
Bingooooo!
I settle into the main barber chair, spinning around once for good measure. I’ve never curt my hair before and never watched a YouTube Tutorial to give myself a vague idea…
But in all honesty, how hard could it be? Fucking DROPOUTS do it, so I, the great DAVID, can also do it!
…
“…Just a little trim… to even out the mess…" I mutter before angling meself in front of the mirror. “Nothing fancy, just a little snip-snip across…”
*BZZZZZZ!!*
Man, this pressure is killing me… How can I relieve myself, lest I make an oopsie… OOH, how 'bout I read some of the Forums? Yeah yeah yeah, it’d be AMAZING to see what shit people are cooking! Oh my GAWD, it’d be awesome to see some texts that are mostly letters SMASHED together!!
“Forum!” And presto! A semi-transparent appears in my face with a whole lotta texts and threads… It’s fucking Reddit. the super-advanced System prolly from aliens, has made fucking Reddit, because WhatsApp or Instagram were just TOO complex to integrate…
“BZZZZZZ!”
WOAH, alright, careful…
…
I scroll through, fascinated and horrified all at once. The global feed is a mess of:
I keep scrolling down, unable to look away from the digital window into how the rest of the world is handling the apocalypse. There are bestiaries on sevaral Monsters-Types, which regions is most ‘infected,’ theories about what caused all this…
And so, so many addresses… So many desperate pleas for help that might never come...
“—id.”
I blink, suddenly aware that I’ve been staring into space for who knows how long, with the buzzer cutter forgotten in my lap.
“—avid!”
I jolted back to reality to find Corenya standing directly in front of me and her helm inches from my face.
“JESUS!” I yelp and nearly fall out of the chair. “Don’t DO that shit again, you scared the crap out of me!”
“You were unresponsive.” She states flatly.
“Yeah, that’s because I was in the middle of doom-scrolling! And by the grace of god, it’s… it’s…” I trail off as I catch sight of myself in the mirror and—
“YAAAAAARGH!!”
While I was absorbed in the Forum, I’d apparently been on autopilot with the shears!! But instead of a neat trim, I’ve given myself what can only be described as the world’s most lopsided bowl cut. One side is nearly bald and the other hangs down to my ear. Oh, and the TOP looks like it was attacked by a weed whacker.
“No.” I am so fucked. “NO NO NO NO NO NO!!” I wail, grabbing at the second tower that’s my haircut. “NAAAAAAAY!!!”
…
…
…
There is no salvaging this.
None.
Zero.
Zilch.
There is only one solution to this abortion. We have to go full Lex Luthor on this bitch…
With a grimace forged from determination, I start shaving my head completely. Clumps of hair fall to the floor as I surgeon-like strip away at what was left…
It takes about… 3 minutes to of awkward angles and careful scraping before I’m left with nothing but incredibly tiny hairs…
It’s not cue-ball baldness, but… close, close…! I can still make jokes about this!
…
I am so fucked. Mom will definitely find a way to whip me. SHIT, I’m pretty sure THAT’S her weapon in the goddamn rapture.
WELP, it was nice while it lasted!!
…
This is gonna suck so much…
