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lolabangtan · 4 years

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Biting dogs seldom bark | jjk

You and your junior Jungkook decide to go to his room when you see the library is full. In the face of silence and concentration, one of your childhood habits comes back to haunt you, to Jungkook’s delicious dispair.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: is indulging a whiny virgin kookie considered something worth warning for? anyways, virgin boys are fun to play with when they submit and you encourage them to leave behind toxic gendered expectations. support your local virgins and stay at home if you can.

# biting kink, subby virgin!jungkook, college AU, dom!reader, soft femdom, Y/N eating some ass and licking some balls, a little bit of cum play, too, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected vaginal sex, the word noona appears a dozen times, Y/N is basically JK’s hot noona and he’s been dreaming of her fucking him for all eternity.

This is both inspired by Run BTS ep 30 where JK moaned a little when Jin bit his shoulder and the realization that some people do bite their friends according to a classmate I used to have in high school.

Well, we all miss jungkook. this is in his honour, although i hope he does never read it.

“Are you sure you don’t want my freshman notes?”

“There’s no need, noona. Thank you.”

Jungkook was tired. You could see it in the way he dragged his voice, the way he moved and picked up papers and opened his laptop—even the way he blinked, squeezing his eyes over and over again.

“Tell me if you change your mind,” you finally said, “I never got to sell them and they’re rotting in a folder on my computer anyways.”

Jungkook put away his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I can—I can do it. I just need some more time to do the research. Professor Choi’s presentations aren’t really useful… He said he’d share all the notes but there are only conceptual frameworks.”

As he was facing his first mid-term exams and you had to study to get into an internship in Tokyo for your senior year, you had tried to go first to the library closest to your residence, which, although it had a horrible Wi-Fi connection, was not usually very crowded.

You guys were so delusional! When you arrived, you thought about whether there were really so many people studying at your school. There was not a single chair, not a single bench, hardly any room on the floor free to sit and be productive.

Pressing your lips, you stared at him for a moment, silently, as you always did.

Jungkook and you knew each other from high school after he arrived from Busan right after you started eleventh grade. He was the new kid, handsome, quite cute, only fifteen years old, and your friends loved to welcome kids like that, so there was no way you could stop them from taking the poor boy as their protégé. Since he had turned out to be a really nice boy, all shyness and naivety, how could you not take him under your wing, too?

Even if many people said you were the cool type: silent, thoughtful, taking care of your friends from the shadows. And they were right—biting dogs seldom barked.

He relied on you as he relied on no one else. You were his noona, his older sister, his strong, confident friend on whom he could always count. And you loved it because you had always thought that Jungkook was your baby.

However, you had this small, slight, insignificant habit that you should get rid of one day, and which changed things a little bit.

Since childhood, you tended to bite people. It was nothing hard, not biting them in their necks and bleeding them to death. You never hurt them, and they weren’t even proper bites. Your mother once told that it was because of some pain in your teeth you had had when you were five, and you just had gotten used to it.

But you would never bite strangers—ugh, not at all. It was just a habit you started to do when you felt comfortable enough with someone, so you simply tended to bite your friends’ shoulders, or their wrists, or anywhere that was munchy and squishy.

You were about to graduate from high school the first time you bit Jungkook.

The loyal, hardworking kid he was, he had accepted to invite you to his place after school for the first time. His parents already knew you and they were really happy that he had a noona to help him (his mother was apparently a little bit older than his father, too), so they did nothing to stop him from taking a grown-up, hot girl upstairs to his room.

You were expecting something completely different when Jungkook turned his doorknob.

Being sixteen years old, you expected to find a deep smell of corn, a mess of T-shirts reeking of deodorant and sweat, bags of Doritos lying on the floor, posters of anime girls in microscopic bikinis. But the reality was simply a moderately tidy room, although it was populated by little Japanese cartoon figures, a huge computer with a microphone and a closet full of immaculate white tees.

“Are you okay, noona? You seem… shocked.”

His question made you chuckle. “I just expected something different…”

“I didn’t really have time to clean up this morning,” he said, “I didn’t know you’d ask to come over. Fuck, I even forgot to make the bed…” He hurried over to his bedside table and picked up a white round cylinder to throw into the bottom of the drawer. “Yeah, let me just pull out the sheets a little bit and we can… We can do it here. Studying.”

“I mean that I expected something worse, Kookie. You’re a really clean boy.”

Kookie, he loved hearing you say that. It made your lips pout and then it made you smile. The tenderness, the care, the cooing. He adored hearing you say it.

You both sat down on the bed, since the table had been invaded by the giant computer, and you took out your books to start studying. Silently, you bit the tip of your pen while he stared at you, and eventually, you noticed his eyes burning your lips.

“Sorry, is it yours? You know, I have this awful habit of biting,” you added.

“Don’t worry,” said Jungkook, “you can keep it. I have more. As long as you bite… things and not people,” he added with a mysterious smile.

You couldn’t hold the laugh. “Actually, I do bite people. But only those I feel close to. I don’t bite just anyone, you know. Half my friends have had enough of me, though.”

Jungkook frowned slowly, thinking that it made him less than a friend to you. Not even that. He could not even be the pathetic friend who was in love with you, it seemed. He was just the new kid you spoke to out of pity last year.

“Are you okay? You look worried.”

“Mm, yeah. I just feel sorry for all of your friends,” he muttered, grabbing the first book he saw and opening it by a random page.

“You’re my friend, too, you know that, don’t you, Kookie?” You pressed your lips when he kept silent and looked down at his wrist. He had such pretty hands, you thought. Maybe you had just been containing yourself since you knew all your friends except him since kindergarten. “See?”

Then you grabbed his wrist, smiling, and gently sunk your teeth into his soft golden flesh.

Jungkook whimpered as he pulled his arm away from you. “N-noona!”

It hadn’t been a whimper of pain. At all. You had had your fair share of physical contact with other people and you knew there was no pain behind his cute noises. The mere thought made you rub your thighs together, but you didn’t lose your shit and bit his wrist again, chuckling.

“Ah, noona, stop…” he moaned. His eyes shone with a weird glow. “Let’s… Let’s focus back on the study, please.”

How uncomfortable he seemed to be made suddenly you feel incredibly bad. You, his trusty noona, his reliable older sister, had been turned on by his voice, by his groans, when Jungkook was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“Sorry.”

“I… Gotta go to the restroom for a second,” he muttered, rushing to get off the bed without even facing you. You nodded to his back. “I’ll be right back.”

But Jungkook took his time to return and, by the time he was back, his bangs a little wet, you had already finished with your homework and felt the urgent need to get away from his room—everything, from the sheets to simply the air lingering around, smelled like him, and it just fuelled the fire inside your guts.

That had been the first and last time you bit Jungkook, and not because you didn’t want to. On the contrary, it was incredibly hard to resist your impulses.

Back on that awful pre-exam day, with all the faculty libraries fully stocked and the dorm’s Wi-Fi getting weaker and weaker, you and Jungkook had plunged back into a bubble of concentration, though yours barely lasted a few minutes.

Once you looked away from your laptop, you turned to Jungkook, who, on his back, was working on his paper for Mr Choi. You could see his thick neck swallowing saliva from time to time, his eyes fixed on the screen with a small blue light alloy. Oh, this boy was so bad for your health, how had you even hold yourself for all those years? You had suddenly forgotten.

The repetitive sound of the computer keys, along with how little your last americano had woken up your brain, ended up bewitching you, and you slid into a relaxation bubble, absorbed by the way the words appeared on the screen at the same time his fingers typed.

You turned in his direction, sneaking one of your legs next to him, and barely noticed how he tensed up in front of you.

His T-shirt had a loose collar, which fell a little lower than his collarbone, and you ended up resting your chin on his shoulder to watch him write his soporific work in more detail.

However, attracted by his warmth, by his earthy scent that resembled the smell of winter sunshine, you slipped your nose into the skin of his shoulder and did not notice how your teeth gently dug into his tender flesh.

Jungkook’s chest reverberated with a soft moan covered by his mellow voice. Without realizing it, he had lowered his hand to your thigh during your lazy embrace and squeezed it the moment you bit into his shoulder. He threw his head back slightly and closed his eyes as his fingers dug into your thigh.

Fascinated by his reaction, you stuck your teeth into his neck again, this time dragging them a little before you pulled your head away from him. A shiny bite mark decorated beautifully his golden skin.

“F-fuck, noona, you can’t just…!” he whined.

That was quite a similar situation to that school day, but there was something about the way Jungkook whined, about the way he bit his lip, about the way he had thrust his hips—almost imperceptibly—about the way his fingers sank into the flesh of your thighs, that told you that no, that situation was very different.

Jungkook tried to laugh the whole situation off and reached out his hand, which had moved away from your thigh as if it were burning his palm, to grab a pillow and place it on his lap.

Fuck it all, I guess.

With remarkable physical exertion, you propelled yourself onto the leg that was prey to Jungkook’s hand and lay on his lap, landing your ass on the pillow that absurdly hid his erection. The friction made him hiss as the small bites throbbed on his skin.

Then you finally kissed him, grabbing the loose neck of his tee and sinking your face on his, fed up with all that nonsense you had been telling yourself of Jungkook hating your bites.

You deepened the kiss and stroked his lower lip with your tongue, warning him. Then, when he gasped again, you snuck your tongue in his mouth and finally began to devour him with all the passion you both had inside.

He was the first to speak as soon as you parted your faces, his neck reddened by the craving of passion, and he looked into your eyes. “For… for real? Is this really happening? I’m not dreaming again?” You could just laugh at his words. “I’m serious! Fuck, I’m so hard already, noona…!”

“That’s my Kookie, all hard and ready for me.”

You kissed him again, biting his earlobe first and dragging the soft skin with your teeth as you pushed him against the bedding of his messy bed. It smelled like him too, but why would you care about that when you had your golden honey boy in your arms, whining and moaning as you completely devoured him?

Jungkook coughed a little when he tried to speak, choking on all the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. “W-wait, noona… How far do you wanna go?”

“As far as you’ll let me,” you answered without looking at him, still absorbed by the way your teeth were digging into the other side of his warm neck. “Why are you asking? You don’t have any condoms and you don’t know if you’re clean?” You finally looked at him.

“That’s not it… I’m pretty sure I am…”

That made you smile. “That’s good—I’m on the pill and I’d hate not having you cum inside.”

You weren’t making it easy for him to confess that he had never had sex with another person, or that no one had ever jerked him off or given him a blow job. Listening to you talk so naturally about the way you would fuck him into madness made the hair on his nape stand on end in a mixture of erotic euphoria and the most outrageous fear of ruining everything.

“I’m a virgin!” he finally spurted out.

“What?” you asked, shocked. Then you rose from his chest to take a better look at his face. “How so? I can’t believe you’ve never had the chance to get laid. You had half the class whipped for you back in high school.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “Well, everybody thought I was your boyfriend, and they kinda respected it… And I didn’t really meet new people outside school.”

You felt so bad for the poor thing, not having been able to enjoy sex during his teenage years because of you and your stupid, cool reputation. And you hadn’t even been fucking him.

“But I didn’t mind, noona, really… I liked that they thought so.”

“You don’t hate me? Why did you never tell me about it?” you insisted, “I can’t possibly be okay with this, Jungkook. I’m sure you would’ve liked to experiment in high school. This is ridiculous.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and ground his hips against yours. Suddenly his face looked no longer angelical and shy, but desperate, raw, needy. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed, watering, with pure lust.

“Noona, if you knew the things I’ve done behind your back. If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself at night thinking about what it would feel like having you bite me all over my body, you really wouldn’t be okay with it… I hated seeing you do it to your friends, they couldn’t enjoy it as I would have…! And when it finally happened the first thing I did was getting hard, like the horny virgin I am. So disgusting.”

You chuckled. “Should I leave you alone? You seem to be enjoying yourself a lot, Jungkook.”

“Call me Kookie,” he begged, “I’m Kookie. To you, I’m Kookie, noona, please.”

“Okay, Kookie.” And there was that pout on your lips again and the smile that preceded it when you called it that. “You asked me before how far I was willing to go, and I said as far as you would go. How far is that? What do you want us to do?”

His dick twitched the second you spoke. “Everything. Anything—I’m okay with anything you wanna do to me, noona, I’m so fucking okay with it… You left me so alone when you graduated, noona, and you’re going to Tokyo next year. You’ll forget about me. I want you to be my first, I wanna have marks from you all over my body, I wanna remember you—but I don’t want you to forget about me,” he suddenly whined, “I don’t want you to go.”

You let out a groan of compassion from your throat and took his face in your hands. Still lying on his bed, you kissed him again, deeply, trying to imbue the kiss with all the love you felt.

“I’ll only be away for a year. Then I’ll come back and stay in Seoul,” you said, caressing his cheeks.

“Will you be with me?”

“I will be with you. Now.” The expression on your face changed completely as an avid sly smile stretched your lips, and your hand went down under his shirt. “You haven’t answered me. What do you want right now? You’ve never been touched before by anything that isn’t your hand, Kook. I should compensate you.”

It was too soon, and you were too turned on to just sit on his lap and ride him, and if you sucked him off he wouldn’t last longer than a minute, and it’d also ruin is self-esteem, so perhaps it was better to start with the basics.

The sound the fly made as you carefully lowered it with your hand gave him a chill that went down his spine and ended up making his dick throb inside his underwear.

You were greeted by his tip, slippery and red and glossy, which peeked through the edge of his underwear. The contact with the cold air in the room made him shiver and pant, caged under your arms.

“God, Kookie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

“Tell me,” he panted, “Tell me… what you wanna do to me.” Jungkook couldn’t hold back a whimper when your thumb circled his sensitive red tip. “Ah, please, noona!”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you said as you pumped his shaft, making him shiver under your body. “You know, Kookie, I thought it’s too soon to just ride you until you’re on the verge of tears, begging me to let you cum inside my tight pussy, but if I give it a second thought… That’s fucking turning me on.”

“Yes, noona, ride me, please.”

You finally got rid of your sweatpants under Jungkook’s hungry, eager gaze and, before taking off your underwear too, you took his hand and made him caress your clothed cunt.

“I’m soaking wet, see, Kookie? Imagine what it’ll be like under my panties. Imagine what it’ll be like inside me.”

“So hot and damp. I’m sure your pussy is so tight, noona, so wet,” he moaned, thrusting his hips into the empty air. “I won’t last inside you if you’re like this, noona. Fuck, I won’t last a second.”

His voice had taken on a hint of worry, so you took his face in your hands and bit his cheek gently, gently, as you sat on his lap. “That doesn’t matter to me. In fact, I like it—I’m dying to see your orgasm face, so I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you won’t even be able to think about it.”

Jungkook didn’t really know how to reply to that, so he simply moaned when you took off your panties.

“I can feel how hot your pussy is…”

“And now you’re going to feel it even more, Kookie,” you laughed. Slowly, he got inside of you. Feeling the way his dick slowly stretched you out as you sank down on him, perfect girth and perfect length, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. His breath had become heavy and shaky, his eyes tightly closed, and you could feel him shaking underneath you. “Breathe, baby. Don’t be so tense.”

Then the poor boy coughed again, choking on his own spit. “I’m just… trying not… to cum, noona, but you’re so tight and hot and wet and it feels really, really good…!”

“Should we go deeper?”

He nodded after a few seconds, still not opening his eyes. What a shame, you thought, not having the visuals of the first time his virgin cock was buried in your hot, wet cunt. But then he bottomed out, and it made him open his eyes with a moan that made you clench around him.

“I’m close,” he panted again.

You didn’t respond, but simply lowered your hand to your clit and massaged it at the perfect rhythm as you dug your teeth into his neck, pushing your hips against his.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” you managed to say, claiming his neck with your lips as your teeth gently bit on the soft golden flesh. “Are you gonna come inside noona, fill up her pussy? C’mon Kookie, I know you can. Let me see your cute face.”

Looking up at you, tilting his head to the side, Jungkook twitched inside of you and pouted as if he was about to burst out in tears. The poor boy was overwhelmed. So, you bent over him and kissed his lips, whispering against them that you were eager to see him come, to see him moan louder and gasp and sob.

Jungkook whimpered into your mouth, as you were still kissing him. “Yes, yes, noona, yes, I-I’m gonna-shit, please, noona, I’m so close!”

“Fuck, Kookie, you feel so good,” you moaned, caressing the hair of his nape, “Come for noona, let her see how you fill her up.” Then you bit him in the neck and sucked on the reddish mark your teeth had left on his honey skin.

That was the last straw for Jungkook, and let out a breathy whimper as you felt him rubbing his feet against the bedding, shivering underneath your body, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm. The poor boy was on the verge of tears, and you were loving it, the feeling of his cum filling you up, even if you knew you weren’t going to make it despite being so close.

Then, with a jolt, you realised he had started bleeding from the nose, the glossy blood seeping through his parted lips.

“Fuck, Kookie, you’re bleeding!” you breathed, rushing to putting a strand of his fringe behind his ear, “It’s normal to bleed in your first time, babe, don’t worry… I’ll get you something to wipe it off. Anyways, the air in your room is so dry, you should get a humidifier…”

Jungkook nodded. He had started to come down from his high, but you were still sitting on him, dick buried deep in you, so the boy gasped when you moved your hips to fetch him a tissue.

You smirked. “Sensitive, are we? Are you going to help noona come?” you said then, heeling, leaning back and forth as Jungkook shut his eyes tight and grabbed your hips so you’d stop moving. However, he did not. In fact, his hands helped your sharp movements, lifting you until you only had his tip inside and sinking you down on him again, making him bottom out. “Do you like it, Kookie? Do you like it when I fuck your spent cock? Are you going to cum for me again?”

You couldn’t help it—your baby Koo was coming again with his cum-covered dick buried deep inside your cunt, heels rubbing against the blankets because it was too much. Yeah, you couldn’t help the knot unravelling inside your belly, making you clench around him.

Enjoying the last remains of your orgasm, both riding Kookie and rubbing your clit until it was too sensitive, you leaned with both hands on his sweaty chest with a smile of utter satisfaction.

“I know you said you were a virgin, Kookie, but tell me, have you ever watched porn? Don’t lie to me.” He nodded, barely able to open his eyes, frowning from all the overwhelming pleasure he had just begun to get down from. “I bet you love to watch girls being stuffed up with a man’s cum. Don’t you, Kook? Ever wondered what does it feel like? Having someone’s warm cum filling up your pretty little hole.”

You slid the tip of your finger up and down your labia, collecting his cum mixed with yours, and rubbed it against his ass hole, creaming its rim, your finger ghostly hovering over it.

“I-it feels good,” said Jungkook, “And nasty.”

You kept covering the skin of his butthole with his own load, taking your time to cover it so it wouldn’t fall down easily. “It’s really nasty, Kookie, you’re right. Better clean up the mess, don’t you think?”

Then you slowly went down his chest until you found yourself in front of his balls. The last thing he saw before you dived between his legs was a sly smirk, and then everything went white when your tongue found his sweet spot after digging for a few seconds. The pleasure of feeling your tongue licking parts of his body that he had not even thought of touching clouded his vision, and suddenly his world was only your tongue and his trembling body.

“Fuck! Noona, shit, shit…!”

Jungkook arched his back, stunned to feel his cock slowly hardening again despite having come just a few minutes ago.

You decided to give him a break by moving your lips away from him.

“Is it too much, Kookie?” He nodded without hesitation. “But here I thought I should compensate you for all those amazing orgasms you could have had if I hadn’t been in your way. You’ve never complained about me taking care of you, though.”

Then you kissed his balls and licked the thick vein crossing his dick to the tip before engulfing with your mouth all that fit in. You could feel it twitching over your tongue.

“Mm-please noona! I’m going to cum if- Ah, ah!” Jungkook’s eyes were watering already.

Smiling and bobbing your head up and down. You were ruining him—you knew it, this probably wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first time to be like—but he was loving it. Every moan, every gasp, every wet sob that shivered throughout his throat. Every unintentional jerky jolt of his hips that made him look down to you with the most blatant fear of having messed up, until you reassured him with a long kick up to the flushed tip of his dick to let him know that everything was okay.

“Mhf, please, noona, ple-please, I can’t, I-I…! I’m gonna come…!” The mere thought of the next words coming out of his lips could bring him to the verge of orgasm. “In your mouth, noona, I’m gonna cum… mouth! Shit, shit, please, let me!”

You took your lips off his shaft for a second. “Do you?” you purred then, licking on his tip with short strokes of your tongue. Your fingers slid into his already prepped hole and you rubbed your finger pads against his prostate until you set the perfect pace. “Come for your noona, c’mon, baby, Kookie, cum for me,” you breathed against his slit.

Jungkook barely gave you any time to swallow his dick again, so you almost missed his cum shot. The warm liquid went down your throat and you kissed his tip with wet lips, enjoying the way he twitched against your tongue.

“Stop, stop, please,” he begged you, pressing his things together beneath you, “I can’t, don’t…”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” you muttered before kissing his inner thigh.

His arms welcomed you with a mix of sweat and mellow, fluttery eyes, rushing to embrace you as if not having you against his chest was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. You smile, turning over to have him against your chest, and kissed his forehead after you covered both of you with his comfy blanket.

Jungkook smooched your earlobe, still breathing heavily. “I’m going to miss you so much, noona.”

“I’m going to miss you too, baby. Noona’s gonna feel so lonely without you…”

“No, you won’t,” he scoffed. It was hard not to notice the harsh pain in his voice.

You turned around to face him, and Jungkook moved over the bed with a frown, too fond of his previous position over your soft breasts.

“You’re gonna leave, noona, I get it. You’re gonna find a boyfriend in Tokyo, and you’ll forget about me. I know. But it’s okay, noona, I swear—I still have this moment to keep with me forever, and I-” You stopped him the second you saw an anguished tear rolling down his cheek. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be crying. Was it your fault? “Sorry, I-”

“I’m not gonna leave, Kookie. I’m not gonna leave you, either. And one day I’ll be the one to see you off at the airport before you take an aeroplane to, I don’t know, the States, and I’ll miss you so much, baby, as much as I’ll miss you next year.”

He finally dared to look at you through his wet eyelashes. “You’re gonna miss me?”

“Every single second,” you muttered against his lips before kissing him, too engrossed in the earthy warmth oozing from his skin to notice drowsiness taking its toll on both of you. “I’m going to miss you every second I’m away from you, Jeon Jungkook.” And, being buried in each other’s arms, you decided to follow him and closed your eyes, leaving any worry behind.

A few minutes later, Park Jimin, Jungkook’s roommate, came into the room along with his friend Kim Taehyung and they watched them silently until the first one whispered, looking at his also shocked friend:

“I told you! You owe me twenty thousand won!”

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

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anonymous-jpeg · 4 years

Text

*beep boop* *robotic voice* here you go

Pebbles skittered as I clung to the side of the building. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind this evening,” I said, as I made my way around the large edifice.

“Hey,” I asked Robin, “how many synonyms for ‘building’ can you think of?”

He blinked at me. “Why are you asking me this right now?”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

He let out a long, exasperated sigh. “We are literally in the middle of a job, and you’re asking me about building synonyms?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then. Let me see...um…construction, edifice, hut, architecture, domicile, home, erection, framework, I guess.”

“Hmmm, most of those wouldn’t work for this exact building. I mean, nobody would really call a tavern a home, do you?”

He looked at me, and replied, “First of all, I know you are a good thief, but most don’t make chat during the job. That’s typically reserved for afterwards.”

“What can I say, I’m a special person.”

He sighed, and said, “You got that right. And most taverns don’t have 4 stories. Remind me, why is this one so tall?”

I shrugged, and told him, “I’m not sure, a lot of customers, I guess. It isn’t known as the best tavern for 500 kilometers for nothing. Most only get about 10 guests a night, this one gets almost 75.”

“We should really focus on the task we have on hand, don’t you think?”

I sighed, and said, “Fine. But how much farther do we have to go, anyway?” He reminded me that we had three more rooms to go by before we got to the correct one, and we continued on our way, slowly making progress, just two friends vibing on the wall of a dark tavern. As we were edging our way to our destination, I quietly said, “we need music. Where’s our bard?”

Robin quite exasperatedly replied, “Dude, we are literally thieves trying to be sneaky and quiet so that we aren’t caught. We definitely don’t need a bard right now.”

“But what if we get caught and we need to seduce the halfling?”

“We aren’t going to get caught. The only way we would get caught would be if we had a bard that would make so much noise that everyone in the tri-state area would awaken.”

“That’s fair enough. Well then, I shall hum under my breath.”

“Do not hum under your breath.”

“Fine.”

Each of the rooms had a small balcony, which made moving across them easier. The beginning was the hardest, because we didn’t start with a balcony, but once we got to the first, we could move across it and then jump to the next. We didn’t always make it all the way, but we were careful enough to jump close enough to the wall so that we could land on the small strip of extruded wall and not fall to our likely deaths. I tried multiple times to make small talk, but Robin was not in the mood. He apparently was ‘focused on the mission’ and ‘didn’t have time for my nuisances’. As we got closer, I got quieter, until we were on the correct balcony.

“Now remember,” Robin said seriously, staring me in the eyes, “This particular barbarian is very dangerous. You already know this, but I think I should refresh your memory, just in case you decide to do things because ‘you only live once’. He is one of those very special barbarians that we’ve been tracking, one that covers himself in those runes. They will amplify his strength, and go even crazier than normal.

“Under no circumstances are you to wake him up, do you understand me? He will rip us to shreds, and I’m too pretty to die. To be honest, I don’t think we should be doing this anyway. A little talisman isn’t worth this kind of risk.”

“It is when that ‘little talisman’ could turn him into a hulking rage monster, should he handle it improperly,” I rebuked.

“Oh, so we’re Good Samaritans now, making sure he doesn’t destroy stuff? Maybe we should go down and kill us some dark elves while we’re at it, or go after bandits for the lols.”

“Come on man, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to die because of him, and plus, that talisman can fetch a hefty price. We’re gonna need money if we’re going to succeed in nabbing that staff, didn’t we agree?”

“Yeah, speaking of which, didn’t I only agree to that one theft? The only reason I’m here is because, and I quote, ‘I’d make a mess of things if I went in by myself, and we really need the money it’ll fetch if we’re going to take that staff.’ You haven’t even told me why the staff is special. You’ve been really evasive about it.”

“I promise, it’s for a good reason. Now, let’s focus on what we’re doing here. We need to be careful, and we’re burning moonlight,” I told him. We carefully brushed aside the curtains so we could peer into the room, and saw that the barbarian was lying on his bed, half-naked, his runes glowing softly in the darkness. We started using a system of hand signals to communicate, similar to, but simpler than, the hand code of the drow. We walked softly into the room, my enchanted boots making not a sound, Robin’s normal ones making barely more. We crept through the room, being careful about potential dangers, but not too worried, as barbarians almost never set up defenses because of their overconfidence. I walked toward the closet, which was covered with a curtain, which I pulled back. There was nothing to note, other than a wicked club which was studded with sharp-looking metals. I left everything where it was, except for an orange I found in a bag. Robin clicked softly to get my attention, and then gestured toward the barbarians chest. The talisman lay there, shrouded by chest fur, and quite obviously unobtainable. To try would be to wake up the beast of a man, which was like inviting Death itself into your home.

“I’m going to snatch it and run,” I signalled, to which Robin replied, “NO. No you are not.”

“Get out of here,” I said while creeping toward him, “I know I can make it out, but only if you aren’t here. Go, and I’ll follow.”

He rolled his eyes, but went out onto the balcony and started climbing down. I plotted what I would do, which ended up being pretty simple. I’d yank it off his thick neck, then run and try to jump to the next building. I went to the balcony, and noted the distance to the shop next door, as well as the fact that Robin had made it down safely. I walked back to the sleeping form, and readied myself. Just reach down and take it. By the time he would awake and come after you, you’ll be on the next roof, making your grand escape, and he’ll never know it was you. Go on. Do it. I carefully reached through the hair, and wrapped my fist around the magical thing. I pulled it off his meaty neck and tried to run, but his fist was around my neck before I had taken a step.

He growled at me, very angrily, as the runes started to glow brighter. He marched over to the balcony, and threw me as hard as he could, which was a bit of an inconvenience, but also helpful, because it meant I was no longer near him and his strong grasp.

I hit the ground painfully, groaning. Why did being thrown have to hurt so much? I heard someone running toward me, but couldn’t muster the strength to look at them.

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, why did I agree to this, this stupid idiot probably got himself killed, and now I have no one to talk to,” I heard a familiar voice say. Robin knelt down next to me, and, with concern in his eyes, asked me, “hey, are you okay? You’re bleeding quite a lot.” I laughed, and replied, “Yeah, but you should see the other truck. He’s really quite strong, and I don’t think I used that idiom, or whatever, correctly. Anyway, I should probably see a doctor or something, because everything hurts. Also, what’s your last name? I feel like we should tell each other this, because we’re so close. Mine’s Naïlo.”

He looked at me, and said, “Yeah, this is bad. You only ramble this badly when you are trying to take my attention away from something else. In this case, I think you’re trying to keep me from noticing that your foot is backwards.”

I raised my head, and looked down at my body. “My foot is backwards? Huh. That’s why it hurts this much. I thought it was just my entire body. Yeah, we should get to a doctor.”

He grabbed under my arms, and tried to lift me. “OW! Ow, ow, ow. Yeah, that isn’t gonna work,” I said. “Maybe grab a stretcher, or bring a healing mage here?”

“Fine.” He left to do that, and I just laid there, looking up at the stars and wondering why I did things like this. Probably because I’m an idiot. It was actually kinda nice here, kinda calm, relaxing, other than the pool of blood that was getting larger around me and the utter pain my body was going through. Eventually, I fell unconscious.

When I came to, Robin was kneeling over me, as well as a second person that I could only assume was a mage, considering that my body no longer hurt as much.

“Hey,” I said, “is it as bad as it felt?”

“Luckily, no,” he responded, staring at my abdomen instead of my face. The mage stood up, and held out his (to be honest, I have no idea their gender, I never found out, so I’m using male pronouns) hand, demanding payment. Robin handed over a couple gold coins, and the mage left. He helped me stand up, and though I wobbled for a few seconds, I quickly recovered.

“Well, that went well,” I told him, showing him the talisman I had stored in a secret pocket of my clothes. He laughed, and we started to walk back to the guild. “Hey, so what does it do, anyway?” he asked, as he stretched his body toward the sky.

“I have no clue, but I’m sure our client is a good person. She had a good demeanor, don’t you think?”

Robin sighed, and responded, “The only reason she gave us this job was because she had heard your reputation. She literally threatened to cave your skull in.”

I spread my hands, my hair turning pink. “She only said that because I pointed out she had a bird in her hair. What was I supposed to do, not stare at it?”

“She was a druid, obviously. Yes, they don’t typically threaten people, but it is possible she likes animals and hates the more sentient life.”

“Eh, whatever. It’s probably like a spirit gem or whatever druids like. Likely unimportant to us.”

We returned to the guild, slept through the rest of the night, and the next morning set out to find the druid. We found her at a tavern, one a few blocks away from the one we had visited that night. She was at a corner table, staring into her mead and probably thinking some nature-esque thoughts, I don’t know what druids think. When we got close, she quickly looked up at us, looking scared.

“Do you have it?” she asked hurriedly, grabbing at my arm.

“Chill, yes, I have it,” I replied, and took out the talisman. I hadn’t really taken a close look at it before, as I had been busy getting tossed around and/or knocked out. It had the imprint of a unicorn on it, and it seemed to be made of some kind of silver or other such material. She swiped it from my grasp, and just as I was moving toward her, indignant, she pushed a bag toward me. I opened it, saw that it had the correct amount of payment, and looked back up. She had disappeared, which wasn’t surprising, considering how paranoid she had acted, and so Robin took the bag and we left.

When we got back to the guild, we sorted out the reward. It was sizable, perhaps a little more than the amount of work we went to, or at least the amount of work Robin had gone to.

“So, what happens now?” he asked me.

“Well, right now? I am going to go get a new blade,” I responded, “and then another job.”

“Why do you need a new blade? The one you have works fine,” he asked me. I tossed my current sword at him, and replied, “Yes, but I’ve had that one a while now and I’ve been looking at a magical one for a while now. Well, I’m off.”

As I left the guild, I passed Sylvan, a male elf who has constantly tried to one-up me, even though I couldn’t care less about him. I ignored him, even when he tossed his half-eaten sandwich at me. He’s a real jerk, and is probably just intimidated by me. At least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself until I finally decide to do something.

I found myself at Durtor’s blacksmith shop, which looked the same as pretty much any other blacksmith’s, except with a bit more magic, as Durtor’s specialty was enchanting. He greeted me, and I replied in kind. He asked me, “What do you want, Alushtas? That blade I gave you was supposed to last at least a decade, and it’s barely been two years.”

“That is true, and it was a good blade, but I desire something else. It is fairly special, and will most certainly be expensive, but I’m sure I can pay.”

“Ah? So what’ll it be?”

“I’m not sure exactly what it is called, but I want a sword that can shift dimensions according to my will, such that it will disappear and reappear when I want, if that makes sense.”

“Hmm… I think I know what you are talking about, and you are correct in that it will be expensive. I can make such a blade in about a week, or, if you would rather enchant an existing sword, it would probably take about 2 days to properly set. Which will it be?”

“I want a new blade. You know that the newer a weapon is, the better the enchantment will be. Also, I know you are always working on improving yourself, and I am confident a new sword will be well worth the price.”

Durtor nodded, and turned away. “I’d better get started,” he said, as he moved through his workspace. “But there are a few things I need to know.”

I gave him the necessary information. I wanted, actually, two blades, a shortsword and a longsword, which would “take a bit longer, probably closer to two weeks. This is the stuff you need to tell me at the beginning, okay?” They were to be made out of mithril, a rare ore that “really drives up the price, are you sure? Other metals are pretty good too. Really? Okay, okay, fine.” A few other details were necessary, but not really important for just anyone to know.

Over the next two weeks, I did a few more jobs, but nothing very exciting. I was really just filling the time until I could have my new blades, which I had decided to call my ‘vorpal blades’, because it sounded cool, even though an actual vorpal blade simply could decapitate a person and any of mine could do that if necessary.

After the two weeks, I went to pick up my new weapons. It was a Mountday, and I was, to be perfectly honest, quite excited. I had never had magical blades, as I had thought them unnecessary, but I had made an exception for these.

“You must bind them to your will,” Durtor told me, “or else they will never obey you.” That seemed kinda obvious to me, but hey, it was a fair assumption about my intelligence. “What do I need to do, anyway?”

“You must take hold of one of the swords, with both hands.” I did so, feeling like a paladin or something. “Now, press the tip into your forehead, enough to take a drop of blood.”

“This sounds painful, but most rituals are.”

“Yes, blood is a powerful bonding tool. Now just do it already.” I moved the longsword until the cool metal of the tip rested against my head, and then pressed it as Durtor had told me to. A drop of blood fell onto the blade, and ran down it until it hit the guard, where it soaked in. I felt a shiver go down my spine, as a feeling of openness surrounded me.

“You may feel overwhelmed by the many strange feelings coming over you. This is a synchronicity with the sword, which shares with you the vast feeling of many dimensions. No matter where you go, this blade will follow you, and you will control its power. It is a weapon sought after by many, though as long as you live, only you will be its master. Guard it well, for it is a great tool, and it will guard you as well. Now, the other one.”

We did the same process with the shortsword, including Durtor’s speech, which probably contained power in and of itself. Following that, I followed him to the training arena, where several magical fighters stood at attention. They were unintelligent dummies, set at several levels, for fighting against, both newbies and veterans with weapons. I selected ones about middling level, so that I could practice with these different swords. In addition to the two vorpal blades, I had shield-like protection on my forearms, leather armor on the rest of my body, a dagger hidden on the side of my boot, two more daggers in my coat, and a shortbow slung across my back, with a quiver of arrows. I walked into the arena, readied my swords, and called out to start.

Two dummies ran at me from an archway, one with a hand and a half sword, the other with a club. I quickly checked around me to make sure that no other enemies were coming, and, reassured that these were the only ones here, moved such that the one with the club was directly in front of the sword dummy, thus giving myself one target at a time.

The dummy swung the club at me, which I easily dodged back to avoid, then I rushed forward and plunged the longsword into its chest. It lurched to the side, and I phased my blade so that I wouldn’t be knocked off balance. The sword only contained the weight of the handle when phased, which was good to know, so that I wouldn’t overcommit myself or make a mistake based on weight, and I rolled to the side to dodge the next swing.

Almost too late, I remembered the other dummy, and moved my arm shield to block the strike I heard coming from my left side. I brought my shortsword in, hooked the much larger sword with the guard, and braced myself. The dummy pushed hard, trying to use brute force to overpower my blade, when I moved my body to the side and phased my sword. The dummy fell, overbalanced, and I calmly stabbed it in the head, the only place capable of deactivating them. The club dummy was up now, and coming for me. It brought the club down hard, but I rolled to my right and quickly switched my blades (my typical arrangement is longsword right hand, shortsword left hand). I brought my longsword into the thing’s back, shoved it to the ground, and stabbed it in the head with the shortsword. The fight now over, the two dummies got up and went back to their storage area, waiting for the next fight.

“Impressive,” Robin said, walking up to me.

“Sloppy,” I corrected, panting, “but I can improve. Were you watching the entire fight?”

“First of all, I was talking about the swords themselves. You, however, were terrible. Second of all, yes, I saw the whole thing. Making them come at you one at a time was a good idea, but you have to remember that they are both there. I saw your surprise when you had to block that sword dummy. Good move with the phasing out, though. Could be very useful in the future.”

I shook my head, amazed at what he had said. “Yes, that is why I got them. That is exactly what I wanted.”

He raised his hands, shrugged, and replied, “Hey, I didn’t know what kind of swords you were going for. Two weeks ago, you just told me ‘I want a new magical blade and hey, here’s my current one because I’ve only had it for two years and don’t want it anymore’.”

“That was a pretty good impression of me. Good job,” I said, and he smiled.

“Why do I even hang out with you?” he asked, “because all you do is the wrong or rash thing and never tell me anything.”

“It’s either my winning personality or the fact that you are the one that recruited me into the guild.”

“Well, it’s certainly not your personality.”

“Haha, very funny. Now, let’s go get us something else to do. I’m bored.”

We made our way to a tavern (taverns are great, they are like restaurants mixed with motels, aka motels with good food) and got some food, because it was about midday.

“Hey,” I said to get his attention, “you wanna steal from that dude I told you about right after telling you about getting these epic boots?”

Robin shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Now, what about this mage do we need to know?”

“Well, they are very powerful and dangerous. Their name is Noxlumos, or the light in the darkness, which is all cool and all, but their staff is the good bit. I’m not sure if it teleports the user, or makes them invisible or what, but I know it doesn’t have a master because I’ve seen multiple people use it. They live at the edge of town, and I know they have very good defenses. We will have to be extremely cautious, but I think we can do it.”

He sighed. “Well, I’ve been waiting for a good reason to die, and this seems like it. Let’s do it.”

As per every mission we do, we had to get the necessary materials. I went to the blacksmith’s again, as well as a magical item shop and a general shop. I made a couple other stops, which aren’t necessary to mention, and I had all my equipment. I met up with Robin at the guild, and used our hand code to ask him whether he had the things I asked him to get. He said that he did, and we were ready to go. When we got near, we saw what we were up against.

They had a large house, more like a mansion, with grass out front, and a stone path up to it. It was very nice, except for the clay golem out front.

“Well, that makes things a bit more difficult,” I said.

“Wait, you did scope this place out first, right? That’s how you knew what to get?” he asked, worriedly.

“Yes, I knew to scope the house out, but this is a new addition. Makes me wonder what else might be in there. Eh, no matter. We got this. Just need to sneak past a creature designed to not sneak.”

He sighed. “You know, I was joking when I said I was ready to die, but hey, whatever. Let’s do this.”

We crept around to the side of the house, and started to climb it. I made it to a second story window, which had actual glass in it, went up onto the windowsill, and waited for Robin to join me.

“Now, I don’t know exactly what we’re going to find here. I know most of the defenses, but I can’t be 100% sure of everything, and the layout of the house and where the staff is isn’t really known to me, except for perhaps an idea based off of other houses of similar construction,” I told him.

“Okay, let’s just go. I’ve resigned myself to this fate, let’s get it over with,” he replied.

I used my shortsword to cut a hole in the glass (gotta love freshly sharpened blades!), and we quietly climbed through. We found ourselves in what looked like a bathroom, except everything was white. It seemed to be made of some kind of stone, like quartz, though much more fragile, from the way it felt. In fact, the entire room was like something out of a fantasy book, with many strange and unknown things in it. We were very confused by the whole thing, and so moved on. We went into the hallway, which was covered in rug-like material, like a carpet over the flooring. We neutralized any alarms we found, and almost activated a few before noticing them

‘This “mage” seems much more powerful than I thought’ Robin signalled at me.

‘Yes, it is possible he is a wizard, but I only knew he used magic, not exactly what kind,’ I responded. ‘Now be quiet. We don’t want to attract attention.’

We continued, looking through the rooms, finding many strange-looking things which we didn’t touch, for we did not know what they would do, and we were too smart to risk it. We found what appeared to be a kitchen, dining room, and living area, but no sign of the staff. Finally, we found a bedroom, which contained the wizard, sleeping in a large bed.

‘Since I have the magical boots and know what the staff looks like, I’ll head in. If I see the staff, I’ll signal you and grab it,’ I told him, and he nodded in agreement.

I crept into the room, careful to make sure my boots made not a sound. I looked around, but couldn’t immediately see the staff. I moved to the side of the bed and looked under it. Nothing was underneath, and so I turned toward the closet that was to the left of the entrance. It was full of wizard clothing, as one might expect, but there was something else that I could make out. It didn’t appear to be the staff, but I was curious. I moved close to the closet, and saw a bow. Well, I thought, that is good to know, I suppose. I looked around again, and saw a chest on the other side of the room, which might contain something magical. I quietly moved toward it, and used one of my charms, which was supposed to Detect Monsters. I had encountered a Mimic before, and had no desire to do so again, especially right next to a wizard. It seemed to be a normal chest, so I used a few more charms to check and neutralize any alarms I could find on it, oiled the hinges so it wouldn’t creak, and then it was time.

I reached for the chest, readied myself, and opened the lid quickly. It is always best to do certain things quickly, similar to ripping off a bandage. The chest opened smoothly, and didn’t seem to trigger any alarms, though I looked at the wizard to make sure they weren’t awake. I looked into the chest and -

“Eureka,” I said under my breath, reaching in and taking out the staff. It was long, probably about 5 feet tall, and I couldn’t understand how it fit in the chest at first, until I realized it was a Chest of Compression, which made items smaller when they are put in them. It was fairly nondescript, a tall, wooden pole, except for the top, where the image of a spider stood, raised on all 8 legs, in bronze. On its abdomen was a gem, and its eyes were studded ruby. I had seen it before, and so knew it was the correct staff, as well as the thrill of power running through it.

I moved back out into the hall after closing the lid of the chest carefully, and signalled to Robin that I had the staff, to which he replied, ‘Well, I think that’s obvious, considering the fact that you are holding it.’ I told him not to be a smart aleck, and we made our way back through the strange room to where we had entered. I wrapped the staff in cloth, strapped it to my back alongside my bow, and climbed back out the window. I quickly made my way down, and Robin followed. We crept away from the house, doing our best not to awaken the golem, and we must’ve done something right, because we made it all the way back to the guild without the beast coming after us.

The next day, Robin came over to my room. I had put the wrapped staff under my bed, where it had lain below me while I meditated. When he got there, I took out the staff, and slowly unwrapped it. In the daylight coming in from my window, we could better see the figure at the top. It was definitely a spider, and the crystal in its abdomen looked like a blue amethyst, in the shape of an hourglass.

“This almost definitely has some kind of symbolism or significance to it,” I said, “but I have no idea what. Eh, I’m sure it’ll come up again later.”

Robin sighed. “That’s a terrible way to go through life, but okay.”

“Come on, man, let’s see what it can do. Actually, scratch that. Let’s check it for malevolence, and then use it!”

We left my room, and went to our wizard’s quarters. We handed him the staff, told him we found it in a shop and liked it, and asked him to check it for anything evil. He found nothing, except that it contained very potent magic, and wondered “what kind of shop will just sell something this powerful?” We shrugged, and went back to my room.

“Well, now can we try the stick?”

“Fine.”

I took out the staff, braced it against the floor, and gripped it with both hands.

“Do I have to say something, or will it just happen, or what?”

“Dude, I have no idea, you’re the one who saw people use it.”

“Okay, I think I just have to concentrate on… something… I’m not sure. Grab the staff as well, just in case, though.”

Robin grabbed the staff, just below where I was holding it, and I, not knowing what exactly I was doing, moved one of my hands and gripped the spider’s body in my hand, on top of the staff. A shiver went down my spine, similar to the thrill of power I felt when I first held it. One at a time, the spider’s legs moved, coming up for a second, and then settling back down on the staff. This freaked me out a bit, though I found that I couldn’t let go of it.

By this point, I was having second thoughts, especially as a wind picked up, circling throughout the room, and the amethyst set in the spider began to glow. Robin had already started screaming, and I was panicking a lot. My eyes wide, I tried to move away, but the staff was firmly stuck, attached to nothing, and I was attached to it, as was Robin. The room started to spin, or at least it appeared to, and colors were flying everywhere, reds and blues mixing and bathing the room in a multi-colored madness. The wind was at cyclone levels now, or so it felt, and my last thought before spinning into unconsciousness was, Please mommy, let me off of this ride, it isn’t fun. I’m guessing I was a little loopy from whatever was happening.

When I woke up, I was in a field. It seemed to be farmland, though the crop was unknown to me. It was tall, almost as tall as me, with some kind yellow thing on the end of long, green stalks. As it hadn’t attacked me, I had to assume it was either a passive entity or inanimate. Robin was laying next to me, with the staff nearby. I quickly rewrapped the staff, which looked the same as before we tried to use it, and tried to wake Robin up.

“Robin!” I said, slapping his cheek, “we need to go!”

“Wh-what?” he said groggily, his eyes opening up slightly. “Where are we?”

I looked around, and saw that it was about midday here, as well. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think it’s anywhere good.”

He got to his feet, I put the staff on my back again, and we started off. After about 10 minutes of walking, we saw something resembling a house, which we stopped to look at, though it was entirely blue and the structure was different from most of the houses I had seen in my life. The closest I could think of was the wizard’s house that we had stolen the staff from, which did not fill me with confidence or excitement.

“Well, we might as well go in,” Robin said, and I sighed and started to walk toward it again.

“Sure, while we’re here in this strange place, let’s go to the random house. That sounds like a great idea, yeah,” I said sarcastically, and we got to the door.

“Should we knock, sneak in, or what?” Robin asked me. I reached up and knocked, for I felt like being dangerous. A few seconds later, a woman answered the door. She was wearing strange fabric, and was very tan.

“Yeah? What do you want?” she asked exasperatedly, to which I replied, “Hello, um, where are we?” She blinked, and then laughed.

“Yeah, a lot of folks get lost out in the country. Your car must’ve broken down, huh? Well, if you follow that road-” She gestured to the side, where a road lay “-for a few miles, you’ll find yourselves in Chicago. Were you going to a convention of some kind? I didn’t know there was a Comic-Con going on around here, but I’m not really that kind of gal, so what do I know? Nice costumes, you must’ve put a lot of work into it.”

“Uh, thank you? We’ll be leaving now.”

“Okay, okay, I’m probably talking your ears off. Enjoy yourselves!”

As we walked over to the road, I mulled over what she had talked about. Cars? Chicago? Conventions? Comic-Con? Where were we?

We started to walk down the road. The sun beat down, burning us up, and strange machines whizzed by us at frightening speeds. Considering what the woman had told us, I assumed these were cars, which terrified me for what might happen should they break down at those speeds. Robin tried to make conversation, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.

After about an hour, we were both exhausted, though, in the distance, we saw buildings towering up into the sky, which I assumed was the city. Half an hour later, we were dragging ourselves up the road, and the city was laid out in front of us. It was terrifying, because wherever we were, the sky was blocked off mostly by the giant buildings, which looked like they were scraping the top of the world. We collapsed beneath one, and Robin almost immediately fell asleep. I, still watchful and cautious of a new place, sat in the lotus position and meditated.

When I was finished, about 4 hours later, I decided to leave. I set up some defenses, though one of my charms didn’t seem to be working properly, which was strange. As I walked through the city, I was glad to know that I could read all of the signs and such around it. It seemed to be in Common, though it possibly had an enchantment to let anyone read it in their main language. There were many strange and disturbing things, and the ‘cars’ seemed to take over most of the walking space. Many people stared at me, but I am used to that, especially because of my hair. I pulled my hood up to cover it, but they continued to look. I was getting pretty annoyed by that point, and so I moved into a building. It seemed to be some kind of clothing store, though not with any kind of armor or protection in general as something important. The main deciding factor in what people were buying seemed to be the design, which seemed inane and unimportant to me, but whatever.

I decided that I needed some new clothes so that I could fit in wherever we were, but I wasn’t willing to give up what I was already wearing. I decided to get a large blue sweater to wear over my clothing, with a hood so that I could cover my hair (and ears, for it didn’t seem like anyone else here was an elf). I decided to get some ‘sweatpants’, simply because they seemed to cover my legs the best while also allowing me to move. I brought them to the counter, where I tried to pay with a couple silver coins, the price I would gauge for the items, though apparently wherever we were used small, green slips of paper as currency. Somehow, I managed to get the clothes honestly, and get out of there. I had to find a place for my bow, which I simply ended up leaving behind near where Robin was, and I had to enchant the appearance of the staff so it didn’t look like it had the spider on it. Other than that, with the clothes I got (I forgot to get any for Robin, though he blended in a little better), I think I fit in enough to not draw too many looks.

When I returned to Robin, he was awake and standing. He looked a little upset, which I suppose he was entitled to considering I had left him alone here.

“So, where are we? Did you find that out when you left me here?” he asked, annoyed.

“Yes, I believe we are in the ‘Chicago’ the woman told us about, and the people here use green slips of paper for currency. Everyone speaks Common, so you don’t have to worry about that, though I only saw humans, not any dwarfs, elves, or even halflings.”

“Could be an entirely human settlement.”

“Maybe, but it seems too large for that. Also, the clothing store I went to didn’t have any armor or defenses at all, only thin fabric like this. In addition to that, some of my charms didn’t work. One of them almost blew up in my face, which definitely isn’t normal.”

“Let’s ask around, see if we can find where we are. We should split up and meet back in, hm, an hour? Yeah, an hour.”

We went in different directions, him down one street, me down another.

“Well, Alushtas,” I said under my breath to myself, “Where should you go to find out information?”

I looked around for a while, and saw some more stores that I decided I would not enter until I had the correct money to pay for items, as well as some residential buildings. Everything was extremely tall, even taller than the tavern we had stolen from weeks ago, and it all confused me quite a lot. Eventually, I found a pawn shop, which luckily didn’t look too different from the ones I had seen before, except for the neon signs and the human pawnbroker (most of the ones I knew were goblins or orcs, for whatever reason). I managed to trade some of my gold pieces for about $150, which seemed like a good amount. By this point, it had been half an hour, but I kept looking around.

After about 5 minutes, I saw a large building, mercifully not nearly as tall as the others surrounding me, but still quite big. By this point, I had decided that either we were in a very far away part of the world, or we had shifted dimensions. I went inside, intent on finding a mage that could help transport us back to Faerûn, but when I got to the person at the desk, who seemed to be someone in charge, all she told me was, “Look, sir (which I did not appreciate), there are flights to San Diego, California, you might find a convention there. I don’t know much about them, but I’ve heard of wizards at conventions.” I thanked her, and booked two tickets to California.

I returned to our meeting location about five minutes before Robin arrived. I told him what I suspected about where we were, and that there were wizards in California that might be able to give us the assistance we needed. He told me that he didn’t find anything, though he also managed to get some money, as well as some food. It was similar to foods back home, but strangely different as well.

We got to our flight a bit late, but managed to board, and it was terrifying! We were trapped in a metal tube, thousands of feet in the air, with nothing to do. It took about four and a half hours, and somehow Robin was able to relax. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to ride in such a monstrosity again, for I didn’t even like riding animals that flew, let alone mechanical beasts.

When we landed, I got as far away from the metal machine as quickly as possible, though I did collect the things I had in my luggage. I am not sure how we made it through security, as it seemed to have detectors of weapons, but I’m assuming Robin used some kind of magic to fool them. It was nearly night, so we looked around and found a place to spend the night. It was a motel, and didn’t cost too much, which was nice. We crashed into our beds, confident that the next day would bring us good fortune.

As an elf, I didn’t really sleep, I merely meditated. 4 hours of meditation for me is about the same as 8 hours of sleep for a human, I believe, and much more productive, for I can think, ponder, and contemplate as I desire while meditating, instead of being dead-brained or dreaming. I woke up much before Robin, and decided to explore again. I left him a note this time, and left the room.

The city was similar to Chicago, but definitely different as well. From what I saw, we were in luck, for the ‘Comic-con’ was going to be in about a week. I didn’t know exactly what a Comic-con was, but from what I’d been told, it definitely seemed like the sort of place where I’d find a wizard. Also, it quickly became clear that we had changed dimensions, and the only seemingly sentient creatures here were humans, with a lot of the other races I knew to exist living only in the pages of fantasy books and games. I found one roleplaying, tabletop game called Dungeons and Dragons, which had a lot of information about a lot of things that I knew about, including my own species. A large world that was a part of D&D, as it was called, was even called Faerûn, which freaked me out. After some thinking, I decided that someone had been to this universe, and created a game based off of our world, giving me hope that they may be able to help us escape.

When I returned, I found Robin eating breakfast. He didn’t seem angry that I had left, especially when I told him what I knew.

“Well, it’s a stretch,” he said, “but I think if an actual wizard was here, they would be at this Comic-con. I found some information, and apparently a lot of people dress up, or cosplay, as different fictional people or species, including, surprisingly, elves. Probably the only place in this realm that you can be uncovered without attracting attention.”

I laughed, and responded, “I think I’ll still attract attention, if just because my elf cosplay is so good.”

“Fair enough.”

We spent the week learning more about ‘Earth’, which is an interesting place. It seemed that magic did not naturally occur here, but could exist. It was what is known as a Chaos realm, where both technology and magic both exist, though magic did not always work correctly because it isn’t natural there. However, possibly because they were designed to go between dimensions, my Vorpal blades worked perfectly, which was wonderful in a world that, while being much more violent than most, absolutely did not tolerate using such blades.

The day before we went to Comic-Con, I believe it was a Wednesday, we really didn’t have anything to do. I was sick of learning about Earth, and Robin had learned as much as he needed to, which was good enough for him.

“So,” he said, walking up to me. I was leaning against a wall of the breakfast area of the motel, eating a bagel with cream cheese. “We have gotten to know each other, and grown, I think at least, to be friends. However, I don’t know anything about your past. All I know is that you are a thief, and a good conversationalist. Tell me about yourself.”

I took a deep breath, and thought for a minute. “Okay, do you want me to start all the way back at the beginning?”

“Yeah, I think that would be a good place to begin,” he said after a moment’s consideration.

“Okay, then. Let’s see… My birth was special, for most elves are born male or female. I, however, was born completely androgynous, with neither sexes’ genitals or anything, in the image of one of the elven gods, Corellon Larethian. At least in my culture, anyone can be anything, and gender doesn’t hold anyone back, though we androgynes are special. Because of our androgyny, we don’t experience puberty like other elves. It is difficult to explain, but the point is, we don’t experience sexual attraction or the normal mood swings or whatever of being a teenager. We cannot be seduced because of this, though I suppose we could be seduced romantically, because we can still feel romantic love. We typically become warriors or something like that, and I later chose to be a thief, because it’s fun.

“In addition to that, I also have my hair. It evidently changes color depending on my mood, which can make it difficult to hide my emotions, though it has helped me become more in tune with them than I believe others are. I do not know why it changes colors, though I have tried to find out in my past.

“I lived in elven woods, for, yes, I am a wood elf, and my woods were fairly safe, and there were some more wild woods next to ours. I believe there were animals there that we didn’t feel comfortable dealing with, and our woods were plentiful enough, and so we were content to stay where we were. There was a halfling settlement in our forest, not too far from the wild woods, and I spent a lot of time there. Some elves lived as caretakers for the young halflings, and one of those halflings was my best friend, a young boy named Tyr. We got into a lot of mischief, which probably got me on the path to be a thief and a rogue. He was a lot of fun, though, one day, when he was a teenager, he wanted to go with his sister and caretaker to explore some ruins he heard about in the wild woods. I advised him not to, as there was a reason we didn’t go there, but he didn’t listen to me. He got his stuff together, prepped himself for the mission, and left. I never saw him again.”

“That’s terrible,” Robin said sympathetically.

“Yeah. He told me he would be back in 2 weeks, but after a month, I was disparaged. After it had been 2 months, I felt incredibly guilty. I felt that if I had gone with him, I could’ve protected him. I left home, for it held too many memories of him, and went out into the world.

“I traveled around a bit, ended up in Ten-Towns, and stayed for a bit. Eventually, I moved on, and moved around more. Finally, I ended up in Calimport, where I became a thief. You heard about my first job, and then I just kind of made my way around until I found my way here. That’s about it for me, I think. What about you?”

Robin sighed. “My story really isn’t that exciting. Still, I guess I can’t dissuade you. I lived with my parents until I was 16, when I was kicked out for being aromantic and asexual. Humans are, unfortunately, much less accepting than other races. Anyway, similar to you, I kinda just went around, being a street rat, stealing what I needed. Eventually, I managed to pull off such a big stunt that, of course, my current guild found and recruited me, just as I recruited you.”

“That is certainly shorter than my backstory, though just as important. I’m sorry about your parents.”

He shrugged, and said, “Eh, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. It hurt at first, but by now I haven’t talked to them at all, and I’ve understood that not everybody is accepting, and that is something that needs to be changed.”

“I didn’t know you were ace aro, why haven’t you told me?” I asked, cocking my head to one side.

“Didn’t feel the need to, I guess. I don’t know,” he responded sheepishly.

“That’s fair. Anyway, what do you want to do today? We’ve stood here for about half an hour, we still have like 10 hours or something about math and time.”

“Uh, I don’t know, there’s a park somewhere around here called SeaWorld, wanna go?”

I considered for a moment, and then replied, “Sure, as long as we can get in”

We went over to SeaWorld, where we luckily had enough to pay the entrance fee. To write, it wasn’t very exciting, though Robin did try to free the otters: “They’re just too cute to stay here! We have to help them!”. We rode the few rides there were, and in the end, I didn’t really enjoy the trip, because we both felt bad for the animals. When we got back, we reviewed our game plan for Comic-Con.

“So, we’re going to go as ourselves, because lots of people will be like that,” Robin said. “Your ‘costume’ is the best of anyone’s around, obviously, and so you will probably draw a crowd. Do your thing, use those blades, dazzle them. I’ll be looking for anyone that looks like they are too interested in what you’re doing, and approach them. I know what I’m going to say, though I will definitely end up improvising. I’m sure we’ll find someone that can help us.”

“Sounds good, and I’m hopeful we can get back soon,” I replied.

The next morning, we were both excited. We were finally going to get our answers. Fairly early that morning, we set out. It took us a bit to find the convention center, which Robin remarked upon: “This sounds exactly like the sort of thing we should’ve prepared for earlier this week”. I hate it when he’s right.

When we got there, we were awestruck at the spectacle before us. Hundreds of people, dressed as wizards, elves, orcs, comic book superheroes, video game characters, and soooooooo much more were there. Cosplayers of every kind, colors everywhere, it was incredible! I can’t begin to describe the wonder I felt, or everything I wondered at.

“All the hype was worth it,” Robin whispered to me, and I slowly nodded.

“This is… wow,” I responded, my eyes large. The twos of us, Robin and I, walked into the center, and my jaw dropped. It was even better than the outside! So many people, packed into the place! I knew it was big, but now I was wondering how exactly I was supposed to entertain everybody while Robin looked through them.

“Okay, slight change to the plan. I’m going to go up on that stage and begin my act. I’ll invite some people up, do some cool stuff. I’ll use a spell to broadcast my voice, for I think it’d be difficult to get a connected microphone headpiece thing. You get up there-” I pointed up to some of the pathways near the ceiling, probably so that those large posters on the wall could be hung, or something “- and use this charm of seeing” -I produced a small magnifying glass from my pocket - obviously enchanted, not just a magnifying glass “-and scan the crowd. You know what to look for, and, I don’t know, figure out a way to contact them. Maybe you have a charm, or something, I’m not sure. Improvise, you’re good at that!”

“This is a terrible idea,” Robin told me, “and you’re going to get kicked out. Still, I can’t think of a better idea.”

I grinned. “Good, and besides, if I do well enough, they won’t want me to leave. Now go up, and get ready.”

I waited while he made his way through back ways and such, until he was up on the pathways (I should really figure out what they are called, but we don’t have them where I come from, and I don’t feel like learning it). He tossed something down at me, not sure how it got to me through the crowd, and I looked questioningly at him. He mimed putting it in my ear, and it did look like some kind of earpiece. I gently placed it in my ear, wincing slightly, for I didn’t think it was meant for my pointy elven ears.

“Hey,” a voice that sounded like Robin’s came into my ear. I jumped, and looked up at him. He was grinning, of course.

“Can we communicate through these?” I hesitantly asked, to which I heard, while noticing it was definitely Robin speaking, “Yeah, I found a couple earpieces and tuned them to each other. Don’t know how I managed, but hey, if it ain't broke, don’t knock it.”

I chuckled, and responded, “Fair. Let’s get this show on the proverbial road and the literal stage.”

I pushed my way through the crowd, passing Captain Americas, Captain Rogers’, Captain Mal Reynolds’, and many others that were not Captains. Finally, I made my way to the stage. Wondering what exactly I would say, I jumped up onto it, where there were luckily no people, and muttered to myself, “I’m an introvert, and yet I’m here at such an extrovert place, about to do something terrifying. It’s a good thing I really want to get home, and I really hope this works.”

I activated my charm as people looked up at me, wondering what an elf was doing up on stage, and began speaking.

“Hello, all of you. You might be wondering what I’m doing up here on stage. To be honest, I am not sure either, but I think I’m supposed to give a demonstration or whatever it’s called for my cosplay, but they didn’t really tell me. Hey, can I get some boxes or something destructible up here?”

A couple confused convention workers brought up some empty boxes, while I sweated, wondering if I should make a run for it. Somehow, though, nobody came up and stopped me. I wasn’t even sure why there was a stage up here in the first place. Was an event or actual demonstration supposed to happen? Whatever the case, this was working, and I could see Robin up there scanning the crowd, though none of them really should be interested yet.

It was time to change that.

I deftly pulled out my sword, keeping it in this dimension. I did some basic fighter’s moves, which seemed to impress the people.

“This is one of two Vorpal blades of mine. The name is misleading, or rather, does not do my blades justice. A vorpal blade simply is one that has the capacity to decapitate a foe, especially in fantasy games such as Dungeons and Dragons. However, all of my blades are like that.”

A few nervous laughs floated to me. I looked up at Robin for support, and he gave me a thumbs up. He spoke to me, saying, “Now, tell them the special thing and give them a little demonstration.”

“Okay. My blades are special, for they are enchanted. They can change dimensions at my will, and thus pass through objects in this one when I desire, and join back up in this one to cut what I want.”

To demonstrate, I deftly stabbed my sword at the first box, phasing it just before it broke the flimsy cardboard.

“Now, that may not look impressive, as you do not know that my blades do any damage at all, or that these boxes were not staged so I would not appear to do any damage. Furthermore, optical illusions could render it such that I did not stab the cardboard at all, and thus am a fraud. Now, will someone please come up here? I really don’t care who.”

People murmured amongst themselves, until one person stepped forward.

“I will,” they said, and I asked them a little about themselves. They were John, a human male, who came alone, dressed as The Arrow from DC. He loved coming to Comic-Con, and was excited at the opportunity to be a part of what he thought of as a very real and planned demonstration. He came up on stage, and I appraised him.

“I loved your T.V. show,” I said, saying the first thing that popped into my head. I had never seen a single episode, but knew that it was a thing and hoped he wouldn’t question me.

He beamed at me, and said, “Thank you! You are a really good elf!”

“I try. Now,” I directed this at the crowd, “I shall prove, in front of a witness, that these blades are no joke.”

I quickly pulled the handles close to myself, phased them back into reality, and drove them into the boxes. They easily cut through them, for they were designed to cut through things much tougher than some boxes. I then rapidly whirled, phased my blades out of sync, swept the handles just in front of John’s face, and phased them back in sync with the world. I asked a stunned, slightly scared John to touch the blades, and he reported they were very sharp.

“Now, was that an optical illusion? I think not. I am also a great fighter, and master of small charms.” At this, I tossed up a charm I had created haphazardly and quickly earlier, which exploded into a sunburst of light. I had built it to be merely light and not also heat, a better model, I think, than the fireworks of Earth. I pulled another from my cloak, threw it to the ground, and watched as the image of a unicorn burst from it, dazzling the crowd as it dashed between them, an apparition and nothing more. After lapping the center, it returned to the charm, which I picked up. I asked John to return, and I thought about what I would do next.

I heard Robin tell me, “I may have found someone. Here, let me give you some sight.” Before I could protest, I was looking through one of Robin’s eyes and one of my own, which was quite disconcerting. I closed the eye connected to my own vision, and looked through Robin’s. He was looking at a wizard, quite a well done cosplay, perhaps too well done. He was staring attentively at me, but not the same way as the others. He wasn’t awed, or surprised, just kinda wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe someone else was here. I nodded, prepared for vertigo, and opened my other eye.

After a moment, I noticed the position of the wizard. I noted him in my mind, noted where he was, and whispered to Robin to disconnect us. My vision was yanked back to my own perspective, which was nice, and I prepared my next bit. Everyone was still oohing and aahing at my magic, and so I decided to have a little fun.

“You there!” my voice boomed, my finger pointed at the wizard. He panicked, and I quickly said, “No, please, come on up. I won’t hurt you, I just want another person for my next part. John was lovely, but you look like you know some real magic!” I laughed, and the audience laughed as well. He was pushed forward, and reluctantly got up on stage.

“Now, what is your name?” I asked him, which was the polite way to go about things, I believed.

He glared at me, and responded, “I am Thuzhal, a wizard banished to this realm for many heinous acts.”

“Ooh, nice backstory. I like it! What kinds of acts?” I replied enthusiastically.

He sighed, and said, “Well, people don’t really ask me, so I say they’re heinous. I was just kinda messing around and apparently broke something important, and so I was magically exiled. I was trying to figure out how to get back in, looking through probably forbidden texts, when I tried a spell to return me to the place so I could undo my exile, but it instead sent me across dimensions and I ended up on this technology-ridden, climate-changed planet.”

I clapped, and people in the audience followed my example. “I like that! Gives you an objective, something dark, and just enough flare of mystery. Now, my good sir, I am also not from around here. I was transported here when I tried to figure out the true magical nature of my staff, here-” I gestured at the staff I had leaned against a wall, yes, obviously the one topped with the spider, “-and found myself in a cornfield in Illinois! Naturally, I was confused, as corn does not exist in my world, and I did not know that I had changed dimensions. Now, my man, I believe we can help each other! You know magic and magical items, and I have my staff! Now, for my demonstration…” I decided to try a little something. I pulled out my blades, and concentrated on making them visible, but slightly out of sync with Earth. The sword blades usually became invisible when phased, but I did my best to keep that from happening.

The blades flickered, trying to change dimensions, but I did my best. Eventually, they came into full view, but I passed them gently through my hand to make sure they weren’t physical. I then whirled and, similarly to what I did with John, tried to swing it through the wizard’s neck. However, he was also armed, and so tried to block my attack, which obviously failed. My blade passed straight through him, and he retaliated, swinging a small dagger at me with ferocity and a wild look in his eyes. From the way he handled his blade, I could tell he wasn’t experienced. This was going to end quickly, luckily, I thought, and parried his frenzied swing.

With a series of quick swipes, jabs, kicks, and punches, I disarmed the wizard and sent him to his knees. “Look, man, I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry for swinging at you, but it was part of the demonstration. You can get up and help me, or leave, alone, stuck here, probably never to return to your home. Which would you prefer?”

Thuzhal considered my words, and grudgingly got to his feet. I handed him his dagger, which appeared to be made of mithril, and smiled.

“Good, now let’s get out of here. I’m not even supposed to be demonstrating anything here, I just got up on stage and nobody stopped me for whatever reason.” I deactivated my microphone-like charm, and told Robin, “Come on, let’s go.”

He ran into a door, and quickly joined me. I surveyed the crowd, which was full of whispers, no doubt about me and what I had just said. I jumped down, followed by Thuzhal and Robin, and we pushed past the crowd, out of the door, and ran a block before slowing to a walk. We returned to our motel, and I was happy we had managed to complete our goal for that day.

“I’m afraid we may have a problem,” Thuzhal said, walking into the bedroom.

“What kind of problem?” I asked, a little surprised by his sudden entrance and a little frustrated that he couldn’t immediately solve all of our problems.

He winced at the strength of my words, and responded, “Well, I know what kind of magic it uses, and I can partially control it. However, I cannot control the exact dimension. I can make it so that we don’t end up places we can’t survive, like in the vastness of space, or on a planet where the air is poisonous. We will have to travel many worlds until we either get lucky and end up in the right one, or find someone who can use your energy signatures to lock onto our universe. Will that work?”

I thought about it, looked over at Robin, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and looked back at Thuzhal. “Well, I guess we don’t really have a choice, so let’s go with that. Do we have any idea how long this will take?”

Thuzhal grinned, and said loudly, “Nope!”

I sighed, and replied, “Well, pack your bags. Might as well get right on down to it.”

We packed the gear we wanted to bring with us, which included some probably illegal items. It has been neglected to mention that these items included two assault rifles, lots of ammo, a couple grenades, a few other guns, including a sniper rifle and a pistol (of course we also had plenty of those ammos as well, and I intended to get a blacksmith or something to break them open and figure out how to make them and potentially augment them/the gun.). There were others, but I shouldn’t really mention them.

We gathered behind the motel, in the parking lot, after checking out and getting our stuff all ready. I readied myself for what was about to happen, planted the staff at arm’s length in front of me, and Robin and Thuzhal both grabbed it. After exchanging grim looks with both of them, I grabbed the spider, and it did the same thing as the previous time we used it, though the eyes seemed to glow brighter and the wind seemed stronger. I closed my eyes, and wondered what would happen on the other side, just before I lost consciousness.

When I returned to consciousness, I was confused. The sky was a pastel purple, with red dots swirling through it. It seemed like some kind of strange dream, and its colors were chaos. The ground was some kind of acid green, and there were portable toilets everywhere. They were in every shade, from green to blue to pink to yellow. I closed my eyes, as I felt a migraine coming on. I shaded my eyes and reopened them, looking at the ground for Robin and Thuzhal. I found Thuzhal covering his eyes, peeking through his fingers at the landscape, and Robin was still passed out on the ground. Oh, and, by the way, Thuzhal is a human.

“This is a strange world you have brought us to, elf,” he told me, and I followed his gaze. I had originally thought that the toilets were just sitting there, but as I really looked at them, I saw that they were moving. There was even a small village, made of what I couldn’t say, as there wasn’t a tree or rock around. Even the ground itself was a deep green, and made of a substance I couldn’t make out. It was smooth, and I could push my hand through it, like a partial liquid. It was strange, as none of us were sinking into it, but it didn’t seem like good building material. The toilets weren’t walking, or splitting apart in any way, but just seemed to glide, all of which seemed very strange and impossible to me. When they came to a step, they seemed like they just jumped, but with no downward movement to create thrust upward, if that makes sense.

“Let’s… explore?” I said hesitantly, and Thuzhal strode toward the settlement. I followed him, after a moment’s consideration, and dragged Robin behind me. When we got closer, we could see that it was made of some kind of wood, and so I guessed that they had just taken down any trees in view. It seemed similar to a Wild West town, minus the dust everywhere, horses, natural colors, or people. I was quite unnerved, and moved close to one of the johns.

“Uh… hello?” I said (asked?) hesitantly. It’s door turned to me, and it seemed to make an annoyed, squishy sound from within it.

“Do you guys have any wizards or magic folk at all?” I asked it. It moved toward me, making angry sounds from within it, and I backed away. “I don’t think it likes the sound of ‘wizard’.” It moved faster, squishing louder, and other toilets started coming over. I pulled Robin into a fireman’s carry on my back, and readied one of my blades.

“We should get out of here, Thuzhal,” I told him, and he nodded, his eyes frantic. I turned and ran, but there were toilets everywhere.

“No time! We have to do it here!” I shouted, and he grabbed the staff. I shrugged Robin forward and held his hand around the pole, and grabbed the arachnid on top.

When I awoke, I simply lay there. I didn’t really want to open my eyes and find out where we had landed, but I suppose it would have to happen eventually. I slowly opened my eyes, and squinted at the bright light coming from the sun… suns? There were two shining orbs in the sky, one more yellow-y, and one more orange-y. It was very hot, and the ground was grainy. When I looked at the landscape, I saw that we were in a large desert of sand, and there were a couple houses in the distance. It looked like about midday, but I couldn’t be sure how long the day lasted, so it would be best to start moving. I got to my feet, and noticed that both Thuzhal and Robin were still passed out.

“Hey,” I said, shaking Robin. He stirred, and started moving. I moved over to Thuzhal, and patted his shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, time to get up sleepyhead,” I told Thuzhal, and his eyes snapped open, then quickly shut.

“Where are we, and why is it so bright?” Thuzhal said, and Robin nodded in agreement.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but there are some houses over there, we can ask them. I hope it goes better this time than last time.”

Robin looked confused. He held up a finger, and said, “Last time? Do you mean Earth?”

I was also confused for a second, before I remembered that Robin had been asleep the previous dimension.

“Well, we travelled dimensions, and you know how we always fall unconscious when we do that? Well, you were asleep while Thuzhal and I almost died from sentient Porta-Potties.”

This only served to bewilder him even more, and I described the events that had taken place in the strange, colorful dimension.

“Anyway,” I said, finishing up, “we should get moving. We aren’t going to kill ourselves, after all!”

With that lovely remark, we started walking toward the houses. It was extremely hot, hotter than Calimport, even hotter than California in summer. I didn’t know how people handled it, but then I thought, perhaps the people here are different and more adapted to this environment.

After probably 15 minutes, we got to the houses. They were strange, quite small and kinda dome-like, circular, with person-height walls and a sloped, domed kinda roof. It was similarly colored as the sand, probably so that it could blend in, though the satellite dish looking thing on top of it kinda ruined the effect. It was silvery, and very much did not blend in.

“Sh-should we go in?” I asked tentatively, and Thuzhal marched forward, grinning. “Um, is that a yes?”

“I recognize this place!” he said in response, and knocked on the first door. I rushed toward him, but it was too late.

“HOW, exactly can you recognize this? You’ve never been here! You were directly transported to-” A thought rushed into my mind, causing me to stop in my tracks. “It’s like Faerûn, huh? Someone came from this world, or travelled here, and made a story or whatever based on this place?”

He slowly nodded, and simply replied, “Star Wars.”

The door opened, sliding to one side, and a man came out. I hadn’t seen a lot about Star Wars, but there were a lot of cosplayers at Comic-Con that I had recognized as probably being from this universe. The person that opened the door looked like Obi-Wan, except his hair was black. I blinked, for, while it was true I didn’t know much about Star Wars (already mentioned, but it makes this sentence flow better. Shut up, stupid), I knew that: 1. He wasn’t supposed to be on Tatooine until much later, when he looked old with white hair, or something, and 2. His hair was brown, not black. All of this was very confusing, especially once Qui Gon Jinn walked past, asking, “Who is it, honey?”

“U… u-um, I’m Alushtas, and these are Robin and Thuzhal,” I stammered, my eyes searching for answers I doubted I would easily find.

“Ah, hello! What lovely and strange names! What can I do for you?” he asked nicely, and I looked at my companions.

“Uh, can we come in? I think we need to talk to you,” I said kinda randomly, for I was still very confused and needed to figure out what was happening.

He smiled, and ushered us in. “Honey, come meet our guests!” he said, and Qui Gon walked back in.

I looked back and forth between the two men, and I asked Obi-Wan, “Why does he keep calling you ‘honey’?”

They looked at each other and smiled, and Obi-Wan told me, “Well, we were dating for a while, but then this wonderful man approached me, what, probably almost a year and a half ago, and proposed to me! Of course, I said yes, and we’ve been living here ever since, happier than ever!” Qui Gon came over and hugged Obi-Wan deeply, and the two men sat down on a couch, holding hands.

Thuzhal looked confused as well, though I had realized that this was not the normal Star Wars universe I knew, and the wizard asked, “Where is Luke? I thought he lived here.”

“Well, yes, he has, but once he married his spouse, they’ve been travelling the galaxy. Would you like some blue milk?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, and Obi-Wan waved his hand. A glass came over to me, as if by magic, and I sipped it warily. It was good, similar to Earth milk, but more coconut-y.

“Soooo, who has Luke married, anyway?” I asked Qui Gon, taking a longer drink from my glass.

“Oh, he ran off with that hooligan, Han Solo, for a bit, but he came back eventually, and told me they were getting married. I was shocked, for it seemed sudden, but they were happy, and so we gave them our blessing,” he replied, and I, suddenly realizing something, asked another question (we really wanted to ask questions, I guess), “So what happened to Chewbacca?”

“Ah, good old Chew. They are going around the galaxy, exploring, happy by themselves. They liked Han, but they always felt less, you know? They are very introverted, and just like to explore. They find people difficult to understand, and they’ve told me that everyone just goes too quickly for them. Last I heard, they were going to Coruscant, which is nice.”

“Mhm. Anyway, you guys haven’t mastered inter-dimensional travel yet, have you?” I asked, realizing that, while cool, this place wasn’t really gonna help us.

“Unfortunately, that project was shut down because of its possible repercussions and side effects and all that,” he told me, “did you need something like that?”

I shrugged, and said, “Yeah, it would’ve been nice, but I think we might be able to manage. We should be going, though. Thank you, both of you, for everything.”

Qui Gon smiled at us, and asked, “Are you sure you want to leave? We’d be happy for you to stay.”

I sadly smiled back at him, and replied, “Yeah, we need to go.”

We said our goodbyes, and left. When we were out of sight of the house, it was probably about midnight.

“Well guys? Shall we?” I said, holding out the spider-adorned staff.

We travelled through many more dimensions, probably more than I could ever describe. As we travelled, and got used to dimension-hopping, we slept for less and less time, and eventually simply got tired, and then slightly dizzy.

Something that I have talked about, but not really explained, was that Earth was a Chaos realm. This means that both magic and technology work there, though there are other realms in which magic works and tech doesn’t, ones where tech works and magic doesn’t, and ones where neither work. However, this is a flawed perspective. It is one described by wizards of old in my world (yes, interdimensional travel isn’t completely unknown back home in Faerun), and their experiences in other realms.

This is flawed for a couple reasons. It isn’t so simple as just ‘technology and magic, or one, or neither’. Magic can take many forms, and magic that works in one place doesn’t necessarily work in another. In the Star Wars-like world, there were Jedi that could manipulate objects using their mind and what they called the Force, which seems to be a type of magic. Meanwhile, my own magic could have been unstable or unusable, because it is a different world than mine. Similarly, magic could exist on Earth, though its inhabitants didn’t usually have it, leading to unpredictable results. I was lucky that only a couple of my charms failed or had issues, and not more of them. There were many other forms of magic, but to go into detail would take too long.

Technology is also a difficult thing to pin down. It’s basically just the application of knowledge for practical purposes, and so almost anything creature-made could be said to be technology. Again, some technology could function in some places, but not in others. Some steampunk worlds, for instance, couldn’t ‘fathom’ the existence of further innovation, like cars or computers. Other worlds were stuck in the Stone Age, and in some, not even bird’s nests could be made. I am not sure what would happen if one tried to make a bird’s nest in that world, but I had decided not to find out.

As we went along in our journey, I collected items. I wanted mementos of our travels, and hey, they might be useful in the future. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always able to pick things up, whether because of being chased by the inhabitants of the world or something else (and if you’re wondering if I took something from the Star Wars world, yes, I palmed a handle-looking thing with a button from a counter). This led to some fights, some running, and some pain. Still, I wanted certain items, like I think one was called a “Babel fish”, which allowed me to understand others, no matter what language they spoke.

Something that I realized was that no matter where we went, some items were still able to be used. I eventually figured out that it was because they were dimensional items, which transcended some of the ordinary rules of the realms. We started with two - the staff itself, which is a good thing, because otherwise we would’ve ended up stranded on a random world. The other was my Vorpal blades, which was nice, because I liked them. However, the realm we received the third (and fourth and fifth?) dimensional item(s) was very… strange…

We had come from a world of robots. There wasn’t a single human, elf, dog, orc, sentient species of any kind, or really any organic being that we found. Everything was automated, and seemed as though there had once been people, but then they had left, potentially leaving the robots there to keep things up until they returned. However, we realized that it was unlikely, if not impossible, that a machine could bring us home, rather than magic. Therefore, we left pretty quickly, though not before I got a small bracelet that had nanotech that could form a dagger in my hand in a millisecond, which could be quite useful.

When we arrived in the new realm, we found ourselves in a smallish room. There was a bed of flowers, yellow flowers, illuminated by a fairly dim light coming through a hole in the ceiling of the room. Actually, it seemed more like a cave, though we couldn’t really be completely sure. There was a hallway, or corridor, or whatever to our right. We went through it, and found a doorway.

We went through it, and walked through a system of rooms, some of which had puzzles, and traps, though none of them actually hurt us (well, except for Robin, who got a sprained ankle after falling through some leaves). We saw beings, some might call them monsters or abominations, which had very strange physical makeups. This wasn’t really uncommon for us to see, because of everywhere we had already been, but weird stuff is weird. One had a large eye as most of its body, and another looked similar to a frog. They ran from us, so we didn’t have to worry about fighting them, and when we got to the end of the rooms, we came to a small house.

We tentatively opened the door, and found the house deserted (or at least visibly so, and nobody came to the door to see who was there). There were stairs leading down to what I assumed was a basement right in front of us, a living room looking area to our left, and a hallway to our right. It seemed like an odd way to set up a house, but again, lots of places were quite queer (in both senses of the term).

Anyway, we entered the living room. There was a table with chairs, bookshelves with books on them - “How to Cook Snails, Snail Basics, Meals with Snails?” -, and an armchair in front of a fireplace, fire included, which seemed like a fire hazard, but whatever. We didn’t find anyone, so we went through the door leading out of the room (not the one we entered).

We were in a kitchen, which seemed normal, except the stove didn’t work, there was white fur in the sink, and a pie on the counter. There was a faint smell of pie crust and cinnamon in the air, and I took a slice for later, in case I might want it (hey, I’m a thief, what would you expect, perfect morals?). We went back to the first room, and entered the hall.

There were three doors, two of which were bedrooms. We decided not to explore them, though one looked more like a child’s bedroom and one like an adult’s. The third was locked, however, and had a sign that read, ‘Room under Renovations’. Because there was no more of the house to explore, we went down the stairs to the basement.

There wasn’t really an actual basement, as far as we could tell. It was a long hallway, which, after walking the entirety of, showed us a doorway, similar to the one at the entrance, which we went through, as we didn’t want to walk back. We found ourselves in some kind of snowy, forest-y area, though, when we looked up to the sky, we could faintly see a cavern roof.

I’ll spare you the details, but basically, we went through this region, a very wet, cave-like region, and a very hot area. In the hot area, we came across a laboratory, which we chose to go into. It had a large video screen, seemingly inactive, though I couldn’t tell its use. As we continued walking through the building, we saw a cluttered desk, a bag of dog food(?), and a dark hole in the wall. When we got to the hole, the door to a bathroom hitherto unseen opened, and a tall lizard woman (?) came out. She looked quite surprised to see us, but hurried over nonetheless.

“More humans? This is quite unusual… umm… hello? Who are you?” she asked hesitantly.

“I am Alushtas, and I am not a human… which I only tell you because I don’t know why. I am an elf, This is Robin, he’s a human, and Thuzhal, whose race I never actually found out, I think,” I responded.

“And I would prefer to keep it that way,” Thuzhal said, smiling and extending his hand toward the person. “And you are…?”

“Oh!” She blushed furiously. “M-my name is A-alphys, and I’m the-the royal scientist for King Asgore.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you guys have any, you know…, magic?” I asked Alphys. We seemed to do a lot of questioning in these worlds, and not much else.

“K-kinda, we have magical a-attacks and the like, and fire magic, and probably other kinds.”

“Oh.” I must’ve looked really sad, because she immediately responded with, “B-but that’s okay! Here, I can improve your phones! You… don’t… have phones? Um, I can get you phones!”

She rushed upstairs up an escalator, then quickly came down another closer to the entrance. She was holding three small objects, which I assumed was a phone, and hoped her word for phone meant the same thing it meant for me, because it could be useful. It seemed that way, so yay.

“Here! I have a phone for each of you! Y-yes, I had them l-laying around… anyway, they can text, access the internet wherever, access special Dimensional Boxes, defuse bombs, and activate a jetpack! Here, t-take them!”

We each took a phone, and I immediately checked out the Dimensional Boxes. They each had space for 8 items, seemingly no matter the size, which didn’t make sense, but whatever. There were 3 boxes, which was nice, so I didn’t have to worry about 24 items taking up space in my Bag of Holding.

“Sweet, thank you!” I said, and she blushed again. “Oh, don’t worry, I just like helping people! S-speaking of which, there was this human that came through a bit ago. Have y-you seen them? I think Toriel is coming after them, and I’m a b-bit worried.”

Thuzhal and I exchanged looks as Robin looked between us. “No, we haven’t seen anybody except a couple dudes back at that purple place,” I told her, and her eyes widened.

“O-oh! You n-need to go… I’m s-sorry I can’t help more! Now, g-get out of here!”

She pushed us out of a back door, while I protested and tried to ask her about dimensional travelling. She didn’t listen to me, and locked the door after us.

“Well, now what? Do we go after the human? Do we go see the king? Do we leave? What do you dudes think?” I asked, looking at Robin and Thuzhal, whose backs were to the lab.

“I think I can help!” a cheery voice said from behind. I whirled around, dagger forming in my hand. A little yellow flower had popped up from the ground, and it had a face which was smiling at us.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thuzhal asked, suspicious of the small being.

“I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower! You were just talking to that overgrown lizard, huh? Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” the golden flower told us.

“Um, she seemed nice, while you were insulting her. Not really the way to play the ‘nice guy’ card,” Robin interjected.

Flowey gave a wide smile, and said, “Oh, sorry. We all insult her, ‘cause she’s senile and ignorant of the world. Even nice old King Asgore cracks jokes about her!”

By this point, I was very unsettled, but decided to humor Flowey. “So, you said you can help us. How?”

“Easy! The rules down here are simple. You k i l l, o r y o u b e k i l l e d.” As he spoke, his face grew ugly, into a mixture of a smile and a look of utter hatred. He sent little white bullets at us, which we tried to dodge, but some still hit us. They really hurt, and it felt like my life force itself was being sapped. I swung my dagger at him, but he popped back into the ground and back up a bit further on.

“Hope you guys have fun! See ya later!” he said, smiling, and vanished into the ground.

“That… was horrible,” I said, and both of my companions nodded.

“We should leave and never return.” Again, they nodded.

I pulled out the staff from my Bag, held it out, and we did our thing. However, as we began to flicker out of the strange, underground world, none of us noticed the edge of a flower root curling around the base of the staff.

From there, we continued on our way, oblivious to our nefarious passenger. After that moment, I’m not sure where exactly he went, so let’s ignore him for now, eh?

We travelled more, were attacked, Thuzhal broke a leg, Robin scared a cat badly, almost starting an apocalypse… anyway! We picked up another passenger on another realm, though this one was like Thuzhal - a nice one, which would be invaluable later on!

The previous dimension wasn’t very exciting, and as such won’t be talked about. Only the finest highlights here! I remember something about big dogs, though, so that was nice. Anyway, back to the important one.

We arrived in some kind of stronghold. The room we were in was deserted, luckily, and there wasn’t a lot around. There were some unlocked cases that had ammo in it, which was nice, because my guns were running out of ammo. There were also a couple of… vending machines? Except, one of them dispensed different shields and healing items, and the other sold… ammo and grenades? What kind of world was this? There was some kind of human height machine, though we couldn’t ascertain its purpose. It was next to a small set of rickety stairs, which led up to the vending machines. A carpet led to the right, where a small building stood, and two entrances stood to each side of it. The building was more of a hut made of metal, and didn’t seem to serve any actual purpose.

Now that the description is out of the way - wait! To be clear, we were in a building, and the roof was not far from our heads, and pretty much everything was metal. It’s difficult to describe, as that’s not really my strong suit, but I do my best. I’m alluding to what this place ended up being, because it does exist on Earth to some extent, and so maybe you’ll figure it out. Think of it like a puzzle, or a mystery. If you fail, either you didn’t know the game (whoops, I said it was a game! There’s another hint!), or I’m terrible at explanations, or you didn’t know the specific place. Maybe you’ll realize later what I’m talking about. Maybe not. By this point, I’m not sure I really care. Anyway!

We walked through the door, and immediately were fired upon. There were bandits everywhere, and they were shooting at us. We ducked behind some metal thingys sticking up from the ground, which shouldn’t have stopped bullets, but the improbable had decided to visit us today.

“What kinda world is this, where we don’t even get to introduce ourselves before people hate us?” Robin shouted at me.

“I know, right? At least hate us for who we are, not just because we exist. However, the fact that we simply appeared in their encampment might have to do with it.” I replied, pulling out my assault rifle from my bag.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Thuzhal warned me, and I smirked at him.

“When have I ever done anything stupid?” I said, and peeked out from my hiding place. They just kept firing, not caring about hiding behind barriers (That was the word! I guess it isn’t perfect, but words never are). I was peeking through a small hole in the thing, and pushed the barrel of my gun through another hole in it. I aimed carefully, adjusted for the simple fact that my eye was further from the barrel than normal, and started firing. Some of them ducked behind cover, though some just stood around, and there was a big one with a body shield that didn’t need something so trivial as cover.

My bullets didn’t seem to be harming them, however. I pulled the still-warm muzzle of the rifle out of the barrier, and told my companions: “My bullets don’t seem to be harming them!”

“Well then, try something else! Something magicky!” Robin yelled at me over the loud clamor of the guns.

“We don’t know the rules of this place! It could go horribly, or not work, or work perfectly!” When I saw the look he was giving me, I conceded, “Of course, if they shoot us full of holes, it won’t matter whether or not we use magic. And, if it fails, maybe it’ll take them out, and not us!”

I pulled my bag of charms I had collected over in front of me, and sorted through them. I had one that summoned a lion, but there were a lot of guns, and I wasn’t sure any animal could survive long enough, plus I like animals. I found one that would explode, but I didn’t want to blow us up as well if I could avoid it. Finally, I found one that released gas that would immediately knock out anyone that inhaled, and worked through gas masks and stuff as well because magic. I readied it in my hand, glanced through the hole so I could aim, drew back my hand, and -

A humanoid figure quickly appeared at the entrance I had come through. They were slashing a sword through the air and pretty much staying in the same place, which seemed like a bad idea considering there were a lot of dudes with long range weapons. The bandits started shooting at this new and very much visible opponent, and bullets ripped through them. They didn’t flinch, and kept swinging their sword randomly, until they flickered, and disappeared. At the same time, a sword materialized in the back of the big, heavy dude with the shield, coming straight through his heart and out of the shield.

As the shield dude toppled to the floor, a person flickered into view. They looked the same as the one that used to be in the doorway, and I later realized it was a hologram, used as a deception for the actual fighter. The bandits looked toward them, confused, and the figure regarded them, then spoke:

“How are you doing? I need to kill you right now. It’s not personal.”

They suddenly flashed into action, a gun appearing in their hand. They jumped toward me with inhuman strength, turned toward the bandits, and started shooting at them. Their bullets were much more effective than mine, and quickly dispatched the bandits. One of the bandits managed to hit them, but the bullet hit a blue field that… just showed up? Like, there was nothing, then just as the bullet hit what was previously invisible, it flashed light blue.

“Um, hello? Thank you for saving us. Who are you?” I asked once all of the bandits were dead.

“My name is Zer0. I am searching for the Vault. And now, who are you?” said our mysterious savior.

“Well, I am Alushtas, this is Robin, and here is Thuzhal. We are trying to find our way back home, but so far ‘here’ doesn’t seem to help.”

“You need to find your. Way home? Might I be able. To help you in this?”

“Your words sound jilted and strange. Does that have a reason? I’m not trying to be insensitive, but I want to know,” I said, to which Zer0 started moving, agitated.

I should probably explain. Zer0 didn’t really appear human, but perhaps like a human in a suit. The suit was blue and black, with a belt, and down the legs there was a bag for holding, probably, ammo, and something was strapped to the calf, with a brace, or pad, or something on it. They had a smooth faceplate, and the head overall looked like mostly glass and metal. On their elbows, they had some kind of a spike, and they had 4 fingers (Eh, by this point it’s pretty obvious I’m bad with description. Go look up Zer0 using that computer or phone you’re using. From Borderlands 2). On their face played emotes, in this case a question mark.

“I can only speak. In haiku, I am not sure why. Part of my being?”

“Anyway, you said you might be able to help us? What do you mean?”

“There are things out there. That you will need help killing. I’m bored, something new.”

“Um, okay… we won’t be staying here unless you guys have inter-dimensional travel… are you sure?”

“Yes, I am quite sure. I thought it over quickly. I don’t want to stay.

“The search for the vaults. Is fruitless, and as such I. Shall move on elsewhere,” he finished, in his strange, haiku way.

“Are you sure? I think I’ve played this game, and you end up finding the vault.”

“Fine, I just want to. Avoid this fate, which I have en-. -dured too much before.

“This game has three modes. Regular, true, ultimate. I’ve done them too much.

“I am bored of it. The same thing over again. Won’t continue this.

“I will go with you. Help where I can with my skills. Have new adventure.”

I smiled at them, and replied, “That sounds good. We might even be able to help fix that haiku voice, and let you speak as you want. Anyway, I guess... you’ll be joining us? That sounds... good… Oh! Though it isn’t permanent, I have a charm that might help you communicate for a bit… “ I rifled through my bag, and withdrew a specific charm. “Here you go!” I said, as I handed it to them.

It seemed to kinda soak into their hand, and their faceplate displayed an exclamation mark.

“Ah! What… happened? That was weird. I can speak… normally now? Now that I can talk normally, I can explain myself. I have destroyed BNK3R, killed the Warrior, and taken Handsome Jack off the face of Pandora way too much. I am as powerful as I will get, and killing bandits only gets old. I want something new, not involving Vaults or psychopaths. This seems worthy.”

“Okay… then… I suppose we might as well go? Not much else to do here, from what you said.”

“Yes, let’s.”

We did our thing with the staff, and left what Zer0 later told me was called Bloodshot Stronghold. What a place.

From there, we continued our journey, and, while each of these dimensions is important, it must be annoying to read, like “oh come on! Either say all of them or write barely anything!” Eh, whatever, I’m writing it how I want.

#Dee's story #Alushtas #Here #have my story #all of what i have #Dimensions and Dragons

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9ofspades · 5 years

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The biggest problem in the Hole Problem Discourse TM is the paradigm of moral absolutism on tumblr. Anyone trying to label or pigeonhole Simone as a “good” or “bad” person is missing the point of the entire show.

We’ve seen in the past few episodes that no character on this entire show is fully incapable of changing. Eleanor changed to be a better person. Jason grew as a person and learned restraint. Michael had been torturing people for thousands of years and got to the point where he was willing to sacrifice himself to save the four humans. Hell, even Eleanor’s mom changed and became a decent parent.

The Judge’s tests showed that Chidi was still indecisive, Tahani was still focused on what people thought of her, and Jason was still way too impulsive towards the end of season 2. Michael’s argument, which the Judge and the entire show support, was that a one-time test to see how good a person any given human is at the time, based on the choices they made, was a terrible way of evaluating a human’s moral worth given how complicated and ever-evolving humans are.

Deciding to abandon Brent in the hole is one decision, much like the Judge’s tests. The show has established time and time again that humans are not “good” or “bad” based on one decision they make in their lives, no matter how important.

Admittedly, some people in the Discourse aren’t arguing that Simone is a good or bad person, but rather that she didn’t actually change or confront her character flaws during the experiment, which would absolutely negatively affect her point total based on The Good Place’s moral system. That’s a fair point.

There is a lot of blue sky, to use Marc Evan Jackson’s phrase, between being a “good” person and a “bad” person. Eleanor spends the entire first season arguing this: The idea that you have to be one-in-a-million levels of good or else you spend eternity being tortured is fundamentally flawed. (Even though pre-redemption Eleanor was kind of an objectively bad person, the point stands) In the Hole Problem, Chidi’s choice sets him apart by making him one of the one-in-a-million people who would actually have risked his soul to help a... toilet full of broccoli. That doesn’t mean that anyone who didn’t choose the same thing is automatically a bad person. The world isn’t divided into “saints” and “bad people”; there is absolutely a universe of grey in-between. If you wouldn’t run into a burning building to save a child, you aren’t necessarily a “bad person”; you are just a person who didn’t make the most selfless moral choice in that particular moment. It’s what you choose to do or become throughout your entire life that might maybe come close to determining where you fall on the good/bad spectrum.

Simone is operating by a different moral system than Chidi and the people who are saying she’s a “bad person”, and while Chidi is mature enough as a philosopher to recognize and respect that, most of the naysayers on tumblr are not.

By his own particular moral standards, Chidi was absolutely doing the right thing in that particular moment.

However, from a utilitarian perspective, all Chidi actually accomplished was to hurt both Simone and himself, a negative net effect. He made a good choice with the absolute best of intentions. I would personally argue that this is a reason why Chidi deserves to be in the Real Good Place. But the perspective that Chidi made the wrong decision is also valid: While the sentiment was nice, Chidi didn’t actually help Brent out of the hole. He accomplished nothing on that front. Moreover, he landed himself in the hole and inconvenienced Michael & Co, who then had to save him; and his rigid moral philosophy caused him to break up with Simone, who likely thought she would never see him again and that he would end up being tortured for eternity. The net impact of his actions could easily have done more harm than good, even if most of us adopt him as a sweet being too good and pure for this world. (Luckily this was all an experiment, Simone’s probably going to see Chidi again at some point, and Chidi might have actually saved all of humanity from being tortured.)

Simone, by contrast, was running with the high probability of saving both herself and John, as opposed to the mere possibility of saving Brent, which, even if it had been successful, might have doomed all four of them in the process. From a rational choice perspective, if they had actually been in hell, her choice might have led to more net good -- Brent was probably doomed anyway, so the main difference was just whether she was tortured along with him. This might not have been her actual rationale, but from that perspective she was making the only rational choice available to her.

It can easily be argued based on what we saw of the accounting office in Season 3 that Simone’s actions ended in net good, since they directly resulted in Chidi being able to speak to Brent alone about what a terrible person he was, and Brent finally having the time and space to process that and feel remorse. So from that perspective, Simone technically did a good deed as well by leaving Brent in the hole.

(There are numerous possibilities for what Simone was thinking, and there are multiple systems under which she could have been making an ethical decision. The point is not to argue for which one, or to try to ascribe motives to her, but rather to point out that Chidi’s and Michael’s brands of ethics are not the only brands of ethics in this world, even if they are in the world of The Good Place, so it’s entirely premature to try to classify even just Simone’s decision as objectively, inarguably “good” or “bad” based on those ethical frameworks, let alone Simone herself as a person.)

Another possible key distinction here is between preventative and retributive justice.

Some people are arguing that the only possible moral decision would have been to save Brent, because he couldn’t have actually harmed any of them without systematic privilege on his side; the worst he could do was to try to fight them or say terrible things to them. That’s coming from the perspective that the only valid form of justice is to prevent bad things from happening in the future. Which kind of goes against the whole premise of a Bad Place. But regardless of whether that’s wrong or right according to the show, that is only one possible perspective on morality, justice, and punishment.

An alternative perspective is that it is one’s moral duty to leave Brent in the hole so that he can be punished for his actions. We’ve seen throughout the season that Brent has not done a single good deed either on earth or during his year in the afterlife, with some exceptions (picking up a fork for a waiter, holding a door for someone, both of which were for the purpose of getting into the “Best Place”). He didn’t have Eleanor’s excuse of having to fend for himself his entire childhood, having grown up in a place of wealth and privilege, and he also actively hurt people through gross negligence and apathy and a fundamental lack of self-awareness. If you’re coming at it from a retributive perspective, he absolutely deserves to be punished for the life - and year-long experimental afterlife - that he lived, and trying to save him from that violates principles of justice and is the wrong thing to do.

Admittedly, John has also done terrible things in his life, and it’s possible that Simone feels she has a few skeletons in her closet; the moral duty in those cases might be for both of them to stay so they can be punished as well. In this case, they’re still choosing to make the selfish decision to save themselves even if it goes against principles of justice, but, hey, pobody’s nerfect. No absolute philosophical framework can be followed exactly, which is why they’re more like guiding principles you strive for than actual laws you have to follow 24/7. Simone might be making a mistake here even according to that philosophical framework, but it isn’t an irredeemable one.

While Chidi disagrees as much as humanly possible with Simone’s decision, he ultimately doesn’t tell her off, try to explain ethics to her, or tell her that she’s a bad person. Instead, he just says, “I respect your position”. This isn’t him being passive or polite. He genuinely recognizes that Simone holds a different philosophical position from him, and that while his particular brand of ethics would say that Simone is being wrong and bad, his ethical viewpoint is not universal and it isn’t his place to judge all other people in the world by it. He recognizes that different brands of ethics exist, that it’s possible to lead a good or ethical life doing something a Kantian would morally forbid, and that he is not the sole judge of morality. Simone isn’t a “bad person” because she did something that Chidi and the Soul Squad disagreed with. She’s simply operating under a different moral perspective.

It’s fairly safe to say that people saying Simone is a bad person for abandoning Brent would believe Chidi is doing the right thing and being a good person. And that most of us want to be more like Chidi in that particular instance. To do that, though, we all have to have the humility and philosophical understanding that ours is not the only valid viewpoint, and that things that oppose our tenets of morality are not objectively “good” or “bad”. This nuance is the entire point of The Good Place, after all. Let’s do what the show wanted us to do all along, and come at these messy philosophical quandaries from a place of questioning and empathy instead of knee-jerk judgment and condemnation.

#the good place #season four #the good place spoilers #season four spoilers #The Hole problem #simone #discourse #Chidi #absolutism #categorical imperative #kant #Brent #the Simone discourse #philosophy #moral philosophy #ethics

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metellastella · 4 years

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Mao Mao Pride Week Prompts, Part 2

A continuation of the prompts put out by @maomaosmother Previous batch here: https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/621726687992872960/hello-everyone-happy-pride-month-to-all-of-you

4. Who I am

Mao said, “You know how some people like B.C. marry the other sex and have children to ‘fit in’?”

“Yes.” Snugglemagne said. “It’s something that’s crossed my mind once or twice, to be honest.”

Mao started in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, to continue the throne. Hard to imagine committing to someone you weren’t drawn to, but …” he shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad?”

Mao rubbed his chin. “I don’t think a lot of people would agree with you there. But. For my own part. A good number of Mao members choose celibacy, because of our offered teachings. Would that not simply be a form of celibacy, just on one side, not the other?”

The king thought about it. “Well, it does seem to make it more manageable, when put that way. I’ve been visited by groups of nuns traveling from their covenants, and they don’t seem to be worse off for it. But, obviously it’s easier for women than men.”

“There are friars, too,” Mao pointed out. “Wanderers. Tending to the poor. Stand-up characters. I felt lucky whenever I’d run into one. Camped out with a few of them in my time. Nice fireside chats.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Both of those genders we just talked about . . . and we in the clan tend to think of all of it, more of as an option. Not a core part of who I am.”

“Hm.”

“How about yourself?”

“I’m with your battle partner on this one, Mao.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

The cat chuckled. “It was kinda cute on nights when he’d pick up a partner and I wouldn’t, and he would get all anxious on my behalf, and, say, ask if they should go to a different floor and not the next room so I wouldn’t feel more ‘lonely.’ He just doesn’t get it’s not that big a deal. He never has.” he shrugged. “And, heh, I have more than enough training to block out distracting sounds from my mind, and I sleep really deeply. But, I appreciate his being concerned over me anyway.”

“I guess I might think of it a little less as a central tenet than he does. After all, I haven’t been actively courting anyone since you both got here, or a little before that, either.”

“So, nothing to do with me?” Mao quirked an eyebrow.

“Heh, unfortunately not. I’ve experienced ‘love at first sight’ before, but for your particular case, it crept up slower. Sometimes that’s just how it is.”

Mao opened a gloved hand. “Right! That’s kinda like the point I was going to make about marrying someone the spouse wasn’t drawn to. Think of the reverse! At least among us siblings, no matter whom we’re drawn to, or how strongly, we tend to seek the same sex a lot, anyway, because it’s just much less hassle and worry, you know? Somewhat because we have warrior duties that take precedent over having children and domestic life, somewhat because we’re wielders, when mixed-magic-and-non-magic opposite-sex pairings can be complicated. We do have, not only the magical blockers to consider, but we’d like to have more wielder children if we’re going to pair up and take that risk in the first place. My sisters would be … I guess a word for it might be … embarrassed? Or frustrated …? To go through an entire pregnancy and not ‘gift’ the world with a wielder. A new dragonslayer! It’s not just outside pressure, either! The bond between a wielder child and parent is just … unfortunately more satisfying than not.”

Mao paused, examining the non-magical animal’s face.

The lion carefully guarded his expression at that. It really didn’t sound like prejudice. He seemed apologetic enough. But it felt that way.

Of course, he could never understand it fully.

If Mao was looked down on for being the weakest … what gauntlet must a non-magical child born into the clan go through??

Maybe it was sheer, pure benevolence on the womens’ part to do what they could to prevent that.

But that in itself was kind of hard to think about.

Mao didn’t get any hint as to his thoughts.

Another animal might have given into an angry or irritated expression, but the king’s diplomatic and political training paid off.

Not finding anything amiss, Mao resumed. “Sometimes, we just want to let off steam. We seek the same sex. Sometimes, in the past, despite being drawn to both sexes, I’m not really all that attracted, but I want the option anyway. The ‘option’ concept goes both ways.”

“I . . . guess I understand that, though I still have a hard time picturing being intimate with someone I wasn’t drawn to first. Despite my idle musings on the possibility.”

5. Obstacles

“What?” Mao’s sister asked. “Just because I’m up for fun, you think I’m any less controlled than you, little brother? Conscious decisions are just as fun. Get over yourself.”

His ears went all the way down. “I … I’m so sorry,” his green eyes got bigger than ever. “So sorry! I always thought you were so impulsive … How could I think so badly of my own kin…”

“Aww, it’s all right, Mao,” she backpedaled. “Oh my gosh, stop taking everything so seriously.”

But he looked genuinely grieved. “I don’t have any room to talk,” he looked at his own gloved hands. “Was it my Ego defense mechanisms kicking in? A blind spot? Or … I mean … the others don’t approve of your actions either. Was I just emulating them? They don’t care as much about my actions. Is it because I’m a man, and you’re a woman? Is it prejudice?”

“Really Mao, stop stressing over it. The elders have their penalties in place for both men and women! The social aspect of it … it is what it is. All people have got their personalized hurdles in life. Like the athletes! Tiring, sure. But. Everybody’s just gotta buck up and jump over them.”

“You think maybe that’s a reference to real bucks?” the badger wondered. “Man, imagine catching an antler to the chest.” His voice faded, losing its joy. Did the lion spot him trembling? “Think of facing an even more massive caribou or wildebeast! All antlers, all business. All genders. I mean even a bare-headed female moose with her mountain of muscles is nothing to sneeze at. I do feel sorry for any one of them who might consider themselves male, though. Antlers are hard to fake. All those dudes and dudettes are WAY scarier than predators. Preds like to make out like they’re hot stuff! Psh!” the animal shook his head. “Many bovine species outweigh them several times over … ”

“Didn’t stop me,” the black cat said confidently.

“Yeah, yeah,” the badger waved his paws dismissively at the magically strengthened animal.

“I guess in that case the phrase ‘buck up’ might be slightly sexist,” she hummed thoughtfully. “Deer can definitely jump hurdles, though. Way higher than bears could. Like horse jumping! I wonder if their sports earn more money because the audiences like them better? It’s more graceful, they have more natural ability? Higher stakes, too. Their legs are very slender even though they’re strong … it’s very easy, with their massive weight, to totally shatter their bones if they land wrong. Even just racing, not jumping. The same isn’t true, for, say, greyhounds. Their welfare isn’t as endangered. Enough money flows that there are always magic salves on hand, but bone still takes pretty long to heal after the initial injury. But, because they’re so graceful and skilled, they’re drawn by the money rewards. Bears, who usually do it more for status and reputation, are trundling, bumbling, and clumsy by comparison. Even though they’re half-predators. How did they ever manage to make any kills in the old days? I guess a diet of mostly fish didn’t favor their developing grace and speed, as with canines and felines.”

The badger crossed his arms. “With the other type of ‘hurdles.’ I guess even though I admire you in a lot of ways, I don’t envy you outright being a woman. I can lie about attractions and pretend that I’m never drawn to men, if the situation demands it. There is no ‘closet’ for presenting as a woman. That’s tough, though you’re a wielder, so that offsets it a lot.”

“It’s not like being an average woman. Not nearly! Even if I didn’t have powers though. Being drawn to men is a whole lot harder than my stuff, too,” she disagreed.

Snugglemagne thought it was sweet how they seemed to be mildly arguing over whom to support more.

6. LGBT+ Safety

“There was the phenomenon of ‘male daughters,’ in the ancient world,” the lion said. “They were as perfectly ordinary legal designations as a birth certificate nowadays.”

“Oh?” Mai perked his ears, interested.

“Yes, I’ll give you some material on it. They lived like men did, and inherited wealth like they did. They were treated as men in pretty much every way. No having to conceal for safety concerns, like the mess in some places in the modern world. It was just obvious, and pedestrian, to that culture and those individuals. They weren’t harassed because they looked different, nor was a body seen as gender role ‘destiny.’ The approaches and conceptual framework to this issue have varied so much from place to place, and time to time.” “Can’t wait to read about it.”

The sister made a face. “Oh yeah, that’s Mao, always holed up with his scrolls. I’m more of a party girl.”

“Same,” the badger said.

“I told him …” Mao sighed. “I told him that you all seek the same sex often too. But it’s different for guys.”

“Why?” the lion asked.

“Remember what I said about the ‘lower’ position,” the badger reminded him flatly. “Actually, among most adventurer circles, at least, it’s totally OK for a pair of guys to get jiggy with each other, as long as neither does that. It’s called a warrior bond.”

“The warrior bond was something B.C. and I considered,” Mao said quietly. “Out on the road, you never knew whose nose you’d run into. Subbing is not something you can conceal. With animals who aren’t nose-blind, there is no ‘closet.’ We’ve been to places where birds could do things on the sly. But that’s a rarity. Everywhere else, there are predators, or heavyweights, or wielders who’ll take a piece out of your hide for it. Of course I’d have zero problems defending us if necessary. A random group of anti-heroes or bandits just nosing around for trouble in general didn’t have any chance against me, either. But. Just not worth the hassle. Not to mention I’d want to break the nose on whoever it was. All it would take is one good pop.” He made a lighting-swift motion-retraction with his fist.

The smiles on both the badger and the bigger cat faltered. They looked at each other in concern.

Mao either pretended not to notice, went on because he wasn’t about to soften his feelings on the matter, or was so absorbed in his own reflection that he really didn’t see them. “And I’d enjoy it too. I always did.” He glanced up at them, expression unreadable. “I won’t apologize for thinking it. In fact, I still do. Being a wielder, though, fanning those thoughts is not a good idea. I had to learn that through trial and error.”

“That’s not healthy for anyone,” the badger shook his head, “wielder or not. You’ve managed to avoid growing more of a … like … you said Blue mentioned … a ‘martyr complex’ over it? Right?”

Mao sighed in aggravation.

“Yeah. I was in the throes of that before. Anyway. For other normal or lesser powered people, the warrior bond provides safety.” Next: 7. Marriage 8. Self-Acceptance V Click below V https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/622003595371544576/mao-mao-pride-week-prompts-part-3

First chapter of the fic here: https://metellastella.tumblr.com/post/617045879413719040/piercing-the-swordsman-chapter-1

#maomaosprideweek2020 #mao mao heroes of pure heart #mao mao snugglemagne #snugglemao #badgerclops #mao mao sisters #fanfiction #LGBT Pride Month #piercingtheswordsman

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

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New Tricks for an Old Z-Machine, Part 1: Digging the Trenches

One of the most oddly inspiring stories I know of in all computing history is that of the resurrection and re-purposing of the Z-Machine, Infocom’s virtual machine of the 1980s, to serve a whole new community of interactive-fiction enthusiasts in the 1990s and well beyond. Even as the simple 8-bit computers for which it had originally been designed became obsolete, and then became veritable antiques, the Z-Machine just kept soldiering on, continuing to act as the delivery system for hundreds of brand new games that post-dated the company that had created it by years and eventually decades. The community of hobbyist practitioners who spawned the Interactive Fiction Renaissance of the mid-1990s made the Z-Machine one of their technological bedrocks for reasons more sentimental than practical: most of them worshiped Infocom, and loved the way that distributing their games via Infocom’s venerable virtual machine made them feel like the anointed heirs to that legacy. The Z-Machine was reborn, in other words, largely out of nostalgia. Very soon, though, the hobbyists’ restless creativity pushed and twisted the Z-Machine, and the genre of games it hosted, in all sorts of ways of which even Infocom at their most experimental could never have dreamed. Thus a regressive became a progressive impulse.

In the end, then, a design which Joel Berez and Marc Blank first sketched out hurriedly at their kitchen tables in 1979, in response to the urgently immediate problem of how to move their DEC PDP-10 game of Zork out of the MIT computer lab and onto microcomputers, didn’t fall out of general use as a delivery medium for new games until after 2010. And even today it still remains in active use as a legacy technology, the delivery medium for half or more of the best text adventures in the historical canon. In terms of the sheer number of platforms on which it runs, it must have a strong claim to being the most successful virtual machine in history; it runs on everything from e-readers to game consoles, from mobile phones to mainframes, from personal computers to electronic personal assistants. (To paraphrase an old joke, it really wouldn’t surprise me to learn that someone is running it on her toaster…) Its longevity is both a tribute to the fundamental soundness of its original design and to the enduring hold which Infocom’s pioneering interactive fiction of the 1980s has had upon more recent practitioners of the form. Like so many technology stories, in other words, the story of the Z-Machine is really about people.

One of the more ironic aspects of the Z-Machine story is the fact that it was never designed to be promulgated in this way. It was never intended to be a community software project; it was no Linux, no Mozilla, no Java. The ideological framework that would lead to such projects didn’t even exist apart from a handful of closeted university campuses at the time Berez and Blank were drawing it up. The Z-Machine was a closed, proprietary technology, closely guarded by Infocom during their heyday as one of their greatest competitive advantages over their rivals.

The first order of business for anyone outside of Infocom who wished to do anything with it, then, was to figure it out — because Infocom certainly wasn’t telling. This first article in a series of three is the story of those first intrepid Z-Machine archaeologists, who came to it knowing nothing and began, bit by bit, to puzzle it out. Little did they know that they were laying the foundation of an artistic movement. Graham Nelson, the most important single technical and creative architect of the Interactive Fiction Renaissance of the 1990s (and thus the eventual subject of my second and third articles), said it most cogently: “If I have hacked deeper than them, it is because I stand in their trenches.”

Although the Z-Machine was decidedly not intended as a community project, Infocom in their heyday made no particular attempt to hide the abstract fact that they were the proud possessors of some unusual technology. The early- and mid-1980s, Infocom’s commercial peak, was still the Wild West era of personal computing in the United States, with dozens of incompatible models jockeying for space on store shelves. Almost every published profile of Infocom — and there were many of them — made mention of the unique technology which somehow allowed them to write a game on a big DEC PDP-10 of the sort usually found only in universities and research laboratories, then move it onto as many as 25 normally incompatible microcomputers all at once. This was, perhaps even more so than their superb parser and general commitment to good writing and design, their secret weapon, allowing them to makes games for the whole of the market, including parts of it that were served by virtually no other publishers.

So, even if highfalutin phrases like “virtual machine” weren’t yet tripping off the tongue of the average bedroom hacker, it wasn’t hard to devise what Infocom must be doing in the broad strokes. The specifics, however, were another matter. For, while Infocom didn’t hide the existence of a Z-Machine in the abstract, they had no vested interest in advertising how it worked.

The very first outsiders to begin to explore the vagaries of the Z-Machine actually had no real awareness of doing so. They were simply trying to devise ways of copying Infocom’s games — most charitably, so that they could make personal backups of them; most likely, so that they could trade them with their friends. They published their findings in organs like The Computist, an underground magazine for Apple II owners which focused mainly on defeating copy protection, hacking games, and otherwise doing things that the software publishers would prefer you didn’t. By 1984, you could learn how Infocom’s (unimpressive) copy-protection scheme worked from the magazine; by 1986, you could type in a program listing from it that would dump most of the text in a game for cheating purposes.

But plumbing the depths of a virtual machine whose very existence was only implicit was hard work, especially when one was forced to carry it out on such a basic computer as the Apple II. People tended to really dive in only when they had some compelling, practical reason. Thus users of the Apple II and other popular, well-supported platforms mostly contented themselves with fairly shallow explorations such as those just described. Users of some other platforms, however, weren’t fortunate enough to enjoy the ongoing support of the company that had made their computer and a large quantity of software on the shelves at their local computer store; they had a stronger motivation for going deeper.

Over the course of the 1980s, the American computing scene became steadily more monolithic, as an industry that had once boasted dozens of incompatible systems collapsed toward the uniformity that would mark most of the 1990s, when MS-DOS, Microsoft Windows, and (to rather a lesser extent) the Apple Macintosh would be the only viable options for anyone wishing to run the latest shrink-wrapped commercial software. This gradual change was reflected in Infocom’s product catalog. After peaking at 25 or so machines in 1984, they released their final few games in 1988 and 1989 on just four of them. The realities of the market by then were such that it just didn’t make sense to support more platforms than that.

But technical transitions like these always come with their fair share of friction. In this case, plenty of people who had been unlucky or unwise enough to purchase one of the orphaned machines were left to consider their options. Some of them gave up on computing altogether, while others sucked it up and bought another model. But some of these folks either couldn’t afford to buy something else, or had fallen hopelessly in love with their first computer, or were just too stubborn to give it up. This state of affairs led directly to the world’s first full-fledged Z-Machine interpreter to be born outside of Infocom.

The orphaned machine at the heart of this story is the Texas Instruments 99/4A, a sturdy, thoughtfully designed little computer in many respects which enjoyed a spectacular Christmas of 1982, only to be buried by Jack Tramiel under an avalanche of Commodore VIC/20s and 64s the following year. On October 28, 1983, Texas Instruments announced they were pulling out of the home-computer market entirely, thus marking the end of one of the more frantic boom-and-bust cycles in computing history. It left in its wake hundreds of thousands of people with 99/4As on their desks or in their closets — both those who had bought the machine when it was still a going proposition and many more who snatched up some of the unsold inventory which Texas Instruments dumped onto the market afterward, at street prices of $50 or less. The number of active 99/4A users would inevitably decrease sharply as time went on, but some clung to their machines like the first loves they often were, for all of the reasons cited above.

This little 99/4A fraternity would prove sufficiently loyal to the platform to support an under-the-radar commercia- software ecosystem of their own into the 1990s. For many users, the platform was appealing not least in that it never lost the homegrown charm of the very earliest days of personal computing, when every user was a programmer to one degree or another, when the magazines were full of do-it-yourself hardware projects and type-in program listings, and when one kid working from his bedroom could change the accepted best practices of everyone else almost overnight. The Z-Machine interpreter that interests us today was a reflection of this can-do spirit.

Infocom’s first taste of major success had corresponded with the 99/4A’s one great Christmas. Naturally, they had made sure their games were available on one of the hottest computers in the country. Even after Texas Instruments officially abandoned the 99/4A, there was no immediate reason to ignore its many owners. Thus Infocom continued to make versions of their games for the machine through The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in September of 1984. In all, they released fourteen 99/4A games.

But continuing to support any given machine eventually tended to become a more complicated proposition than simply continuing to use an already-extant interpreter. The Z-Machine in reality was more of a moving target than the abstract idea behind it might suggest. Infocom’s games got steadily bigger and richer as time went on, with more text, better parsers, and more ambitious world models. The original Z-Machine, as designed in 1979, had a theoretical maximum story-file size of 128 K, but the practical limitations of the machines running the interpreters kept the early games from reaching anything close to this size. (The original Zork, for example, Infocom’s very first game, was just 77 K.) As story files pushed ever closer to their theoretical maximum size in the years that followed, they began to exceed the practical limitations of some existing interpreters. When that happened, Infocom had to decide whether reworking the interpreter to support a larger story file was possible at all, and, if so, whether it was worth the effort in light of a platform’s sales figures. Following Hitchhiker’s (story-file size: 110 K), their fourteenth game, but before Suspect (story-file size: 120 K), their fifteenth, Infocom judged the answer to one or both of those questions to be no in the case of the 99/4A.

Barry Boone, the first person outside of Infocom to create a full-fledged Z-Machine interpreter.

As one might expect, this decision left a number of 99/4A users sorely disappointed. Among them was Barry Boone, a clever young man just out of high school who was already one of the leading lights of 99/4A hackery. Having read enough about Infocom to understand that their game format must be in some sense portable, he started doggedly digging into the details of its implementation. Soon he was able to make a clear delineation between the interpreter running natively on his machine and the story file it executed — a delineation the Apple II crowd writing for The Computist had yet to manage. And then he uncovered the big secret: that the interpreter packaged with one game could actually run the story file from another — even if said story file originated on a platform other than the 99/4A! Boone:

Having worked out the file format, I wrote a program to crunch the non-TI files and build the TI files. The resulting files appeared to work, but I quickly discovered [a] problem. If I converted an older game that already existed in TI format, everything worked perfectly. But with the newer games, there was a big problem.

The problem was that the interpreter software written for the TI had a number of bugs, many of which did not show up with the original set of games, but became all too apparent with the newer ones and made them unplayable. So I began a process of reverse-engineering the Z-Code interpreter for the TI. Once I reached a point of having recreated the source code, I began working on making the code more efficient, and fixing numerous bugs in the implementation. The largest bug I encountered was a vocabulary-table bug. Basically, the original TI interpreter would hit an overflow bug if the vocabulary table was too large, and the binary-search algorithm would start searching the wrong area of memory to look up words. This had the effect of making the last portion of the vocabulary inaccessible, and made the game impossible to play.

I also added a number of enhancements that allowed the games to load about twenty times faster, and modifications to play the games on TI systems equipped with 80-column displays. Finally, I had to make a second variation of the interpreter so that persons who had an extra 8 K of RAM (known as a Super Cart, or Super Space module) could play some of the games that required a larger memory footprint than 24 K of memory buffer. These games included Leather Goddesses.

Boone estimates that he finished his interpreter around 1986, whereupon he promptly began sharing it with his network of friends and fellow 99/4A enthusiasts, who used it to play many of the newer Infocom story files, transferring them from disks for other platforms. Boone was stymied only by the games from Infocom’s Interactive Fiction Plus line, such as A Mind Forever Voyaging and Trinity. Those games used an expanded version of the Z-Machine, known internally as version 4 — the mature version of the original virtual machine was version 3 — which expanded the available memory space to 256 K, far beyond what the 99/4A could possibly manage. Even without them, however, Boone gave himself and his mates ten new Infocom games to play — i.e., all of those released for the 128 K Z-Machine between October of 1984 and July of 1987, when this original incarnation of the virtual machine made its last bow in Infocom packaging.

But even that wasn’t quite the end of the story. An obscure footnote to Infocom’s history took shape in late 1988 or early 1989, when Chris Bobbitt, founder of a company called Asgard, the 99/4A software publisher that most resembled a real business as opposed to a hobbyist project, had the idea of contacting Infocom themselves to ask permission to market the newer games, running under Boone’s interpreter, as legitimate commercial products. Although Bobbitt doubtless didn’t realize it at the time, Infocom was by then on the verge of being shut down, and Mediagenic, their less-than-doting parent company, were also beginning to feel the financial stresses that would force them into bankruptcy in 1990. They saw Bobbitt’s proposal as a handy way to clear their warehouse of old stock and make some desperately needed cash. Jim Reiss, who worked at Asgard at the time as the last remaining full-time 99/4A software developer in the world, remembers how the deal went down:

[Bobbitt] contacted Infocom to ask for permission to release the later Infocom releases, and was given permission to do so on one condition: that the packaging and disks had to be originals for other systems, relabeled (the packaging) and reformatted (the disks) for use with the TI. Infocom scoured their warehouse and sent Chris two very large boxes of the titles he was asking to reproduce—and noted on the invoice that these boxes included every single copy of the relevant titles that Infocom still had in their possession. Some of the titles were relatively plentiful, but others were included in much lower numbers. The boxes only contained four copies of Leather Goddesses of Phobos, for example. All other titles had at least ten copies each, and some had a lot more. He was permitted to buy more copies from remainders in the retail channels, though, so it is possible there are more properly badged Asgard copies of the titles that were harder to find. All of the stock he received from Infocom was gone in a matter of months.

These games, which Bobbitt bought for $5 apiece and sold on for several times that, thereby became the last new Infocom games ever sold in their original packaging — out-of-print games from a dead company sold to owners of an orphaned computer.

Asgard prepared their own platform-specific reference card after the Infocom example and inserted it into the box.

Well before Asgard entered the scene, however, another, more structured and sustainable project had led to a Z-Machine interpreter much more amenable to being ported and built upon than Boone’s incarnation of same for an idiosyncratic, bare-bones, orphaned platform. Not long after Boone first started sharing his 99/4A interpreter with friends, a few students at the University of Sydney in far-off Australia started disassembling another of Infocom’s own interpreters — in this case one for Zilog Z80-based computers running the operating system CP/M. The group included in their ranks David Beazley, George Janczuk, Peter Lisle, Russell Hoare, and Chris Tham. They gave themselves the rather grandiose name of the InfoTaskforce, but they initially regarded the project, said Janczuk to me recently, strictly as “a form of mental calisthenics”: “This was never meant to be a public exercise.”

Still, the group had several advantages which Boone had lacked — in addition, that is, to the advantage of sheer numbers. Boone had been a bedroom hacker working on fairly primitive hardware, where cryptic assembly language, highly specific to the computer on which it was running, was the only viable option. The InfoTaskforce, on the other hand, had more advanced hardware at their disposal, and were steeped in the culture of institutional hacking, where portable C was the most popular programming language and software was typically distributed as source code, ready to be analyzed, ported, and expanded upon by people other than its creators, quite possibly working on platforms of which said creators had never dreamed. And then, thanks to their university, the InfoTaskforce was connected to the Internet, long before most people had even heard of such a thing; this gave them a way to share their work quickly with others across a wide, international swath of computing. The contrast with the segregated ghetto that was the world of the 99/4A is telling.

David Beazley, who did almost all of the actual coding for the InfoTaskforce interpreter — the others had their hands full enough with reverse-engineering the Z-Machine architecture — did so in C on a first-generation Apple Macintosh. On May 25, 1987, he used this machine to compile the first truly portable Z-Machine interpreter in history. Within a week, he and his mates had also gotten it compiled and running on an MS-DOS machine and a big DEC VAX. (Ironically, the latter was the successor to the PDP-10 line so famously employed by Infocom themselves; thus one might say that the Z-Machine had already come full-circle.)

As Janczuk remembers it, the first version of the interpreter to reach the Internet actually did so accidentally. He gave it to a friend of his at university, who, as so many friends have done over the years, uploaded it without permission on June 2, 1987. There followed an immediate outpouring of interest from all over the world, which greatly surprised the interpreter’s own creators. It prompted them to release an official version 1.0, capable of playing any story file for the standard — i.e., 128 K — Z-Machine on August 1, 1987. Already by this time, the Commodore Amiga personal computer and several more big machines had been added to the list of confirmed-compatible host platforms. It was a milestone day in the history of interactive fiction; Infocom’s games had been freed from the tyranny of the hardware for which they’d originally shipped. And they could remain free of the vicissitudes and fashions of hardware forevermore, as long as there was an enterprising hacker ready to tweak an existing interpreter’s source code to suit the latest gadget to come down the pipe. (So far, there has been no shortage of such hackers…)

With their university days coming to an end, the InfoTaskforce boys worked on their interpreter only in fits and starts over the years that followed. Not until 1990 did they finish adding support for the Interactive Fiction Plus line; not until 1992, in a final burst of activity, did they add support for Infocom’s last few text-only games, which ran under what was known internally as the version 5 Z-Machine. This last release of the InfoTaskforce interpreter actually attracted a bit of scoffing for its inefficiency, and for generally lagging behind what other hackers had done by that point in other interpreters.

In reality, information and inspiration rather than the software itself were the most important legacies of the InfoTaskForce interpreter. Beazley’s C source told you almost all of what you really needed to know about the Z-Machine, so long as you were sufficiently motivated to dig out the information you needed; doing so was certainly a fair sight more pleasant than poring over eye-watering printouts of cryptic disassembled Z80 machine language, as Beazley and his pals had been forced to do before coming up with it. The InfoTaskforce interpreter thus became the gateway through which the Z-Machine burst into the public domain, even as Infocom was soon to collapse and abandon their virtual machine. This was a role which Boone’s interpreter, for all its naïve brilliance, just wasn’t equipped to play, for all of the reasons we’ve already explored.

An enterprising American hacker named Mark Howell did perhaps the most to build upon the foundation of the InfoTaskforce interpreter during the half-decade after its initial appearance. His own interpreter bore the name of ZIP (for “Z-Machine Implementation Program”), a name it shared with the popular compression format, to enormous confusion all the way around — although, to be fair, this was also the name by which Infocom knew their own interpreters. ZIP was faster and less buggy than the InfoTaskforce interpreter, and for this reason it soon surpassed its older sibling in popularity. But Howell also delved further into the architecture of the Z-Machine than anyone before him, analyzing its design like a computer scientist might rather than as a hacker simply trying to write a quick-and-dirty clone of Infocom’s existing interpreters. When he came up for air, he uploaded his set of “ZTools” — programs for probing story files in all sorts of ways, including a disassembler for the actual code they contained. These tools did much to set the stage for the next phase of the Z-Machine’s resurrection and liberation.

In 1992, another building block fell into place when Activision shipped their Lost Treasures of Infocom collection to unexpected success. It and its sequel collected all of the Infocom games together in one place at a reasonable price, stored as neatly discrete story files ready to be fed into either the original Infocom interpreters included on the disks or an alternative of one’s choice. Lost Treasures shipped only in versions for MS-DOS, the Apple Macintosh, and the Commodore Amiga — the last three commercially viable personal-computing platforms left in North America by that time (and the Amiga wouldn’t enjoy that status much longer). But users of orphaned and non-North American platforms were soon passing around the tip that, if you could just get the story files off of the original Lost Treasures disks, they could be run on their own platforms as well with one of the interpreters that had by now spread far and wide. For example, our old friends at The Computist, still carrying the 8-bit torch in these twilight days of the Apple II, published instructions on how to do just that — a fitting end point to their earliest explorations of the Infocom format.

Across the Atlantic, meanwhile, the magazine Acorn User published a similar article for users of the Acorn Archimedes, a machine that was virtually unknown outside of Britain, a few parts of mainland Europe, and Australasia. (“It’s hard to conceive of videogame nostalgia,” they wrote of the Lost Treasures collections, “but this is as close as it gets.” Little did they know…) It so happened that an Oxford doctoral candidate in mathematics named Graham Nelson was a stalwart Acorn loyalist and a regular reader of that magazine. By the time the article in question appeared, the window opened by the InfoTaskforce interpreter and all the software that had followed it, combined with the Lost Treasures collections, had already led him to begin sliding the next couple of building blocks of the Interactive Fiction Renaissance into place.

Infocom’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy running on an Acorn Archimedes — a platform for which it was never officially released — under a third-party Z-Machine interpreter by Edouard Poor.

(Sources: The Computist 5, 7, 34, 41, 47, 57, 58, 63, and 86; Acorn User of July 1993; Asgard Software’s newsletters from 1989 and 1990. Online sources include Barry Boone’s memories of writing his Z-Machine interpreter at The Museum of Computer Adventure Game History and his bio for the TI99ers Hall of Fame. The original source for the InfoTaskforce interpreter can be found in various file archives. My huge thanks go to Barry Boone, Jim Reiss, and George Janczuk for talking to me about their pioneering early work in Z-Machine archaeology.)

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/new-tricks-for-an-old-z-machine-part-1-digging-the-trenches/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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