The hooded woman bent down to pick up a handful of red and purple dollops lying on the ground next to the pulped skunk and put them in her pants pocket. Robin couldn’t tell what they were but he swore they hadn’t been there before the creature had gotten stomped.
“Wow. Uh… thanks. Really, thank you for helping.” Robin felt truly grateful for Monika’s arrival.
“Oh, sweetie,” Monika cooed gently as she walked past and patted him on his stubbly cheek. “I didn’t help. I did all the work.”
Robin had no reason to disagree. “Honestly, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come by.”
“You’d have been eaten,” Monika stated acerbically. “And I’m pretty sure that outfit doesn’t make you minty fresh.” She once again judgmentally eyed his shabby Santa getup. “You should do something ‘bout that.”
Robin put everything except the dagger back in his satchel where it promptly disappeared. He fell into step at the shorter woman’s shoulder as she headed down the sidewalk toward the blue-widow building’s entryway. “Like what? I don’t even know where I am or what’s going on!” Hopefully he didn’t sound desperate, but he was actually pretty desperate. Probably even scared shitless if he allowed that sort of thinking to creep in.
Monika stopped in the doorway with one hand on the handle and turned to jab a wagging finger at him. “I moved out here to keep to myself and let all the cray-cray play out elsewheres. Looks like it’s starting to creep in here after all if Ferals are sniffin’ round for snacks. You best find yourself a vanilla little hidey-hole and bury your pasty ass inside it. You aint gonna last long if you wander into a colorized zone and one of the clans gets a whiff of ya.”
“Clans? You mean more were-creatures?” How many more of those things are out there if there are ‘zones’ of them? This is way more than I can handle by myself.
Monika pursed her lips and sucked her teeth, a mannerism Robin might normally find distracting if he wasn’t so panicky. “Boy, you need to read that pamphlet they gave you. Do some learnin’ if you wanna have any chance of surviving. Figure out your skills and powers then get better at ‘em.”
“Like leveling up?”
Monika looked somewhat puzzled. “You mean video game leveling up? I guess you could call it that. There aint no levels or nothin’ like that. It’s like the more you do your stuff the more you get experience. You gotta do the stuff listed on your cards and then make dice rolls to see if ya’ succeed. Eventually you get to start filling in the dots and then you get better and get more dice. You have to keep doing and rolling and doing and rolling just to stay breathin’.”
That sounded exhausting. “Could you help me?” Robin knew he sounded desperate now. Other people on the street had gone back about their linen-colored lives and vehicle traffic ambled by obliviously. Clearly there was something different about the two of them so Monika made for the only obvious source of information, let alone potential assistance.
Monika took a couple steps inside the door looking ready to close it in his face. He put one hand on its taupe-tinged edge before she could. “Please. I know it’s asking a lot, but if you could just give me a few minutes of your time and help me wrap my head around it all, maybe I’ll actually have a prayer.”
That last word caught her attention. She turned to face him. “Here’s a freebie. Don’t do no prayin’. I don’t care what kind of Jesus you may have grown up with, but here that kind of thinkin’ brings down the angels. They might be glorious and beautiful and all that shit, but once they taste a prayer from you you’ll be like a candy machine and your Snicker ass will definitely satisfy. Mmm-hmm.”
Robin feared the door would close for sure but Monika stopped for a moment thoughtfully examining her decorative blue nails. The internal struggle deciding whether to retreat to her own peace versus letting a stranger in, one who had nothing to offer in return, clearly danced across her features. She self-consciously began to pull her hood further down over her face but stopped with a sigh. “Fine. Come in.”
She led him up a single flight of stairs at the back of the hallway. The interior of the building was carpeted in a tacky geometric patter in shades of ecru and almond and the wall paint was a tint of beige hinting at a previous life in the green family. I’m seriously going to have to think of more words for beige in this place. It’s like everything is made out of mushroom skin. Everything expect me and her.
Monika lead him into a fully colored, comfortably-sized, two-bedroom apartment with a main room combining an open kitchen and recreational space. Three large windows trimmed with blue curtains looked out over the street, the middle one open to let in fresh air. Stepping in from the monochromatically oatmeal hallway into a room looking like a box of crayons had melted all over was jarring to his senses - well, mostly just his eyes.
“How come your place is so colorful and the rest of the city is so bland?”
Monika pulled the dark blue tunic off over her head and tossed it onto the red couch accented with silver and white pillows. “Because, like you, I’m a playa.” Her inflection and tone, and the accompanying hand gesture, made it sound like she was in a gangster rap video. “Nah, just kidding with ya. But we are both play-ERS in this place. That’s why we’ve got color. The stuff we gain and the places we make our own get colored in too. We even keep our names.”
That last statement baffled him for a minute. “Do you mean all those plain people out there don’t have names?”
Monika shrugged. “I think they think they have names, but they can’t tell us what they are. It doesn’t really matter cuz I don’t think they’re even really real. I mean, we have to dine on them, so I hope they aint really real. Know what I mean?”
Out of all the things Robin had seen and done today, that statement was the most shocking. Having it so off-handedly delivered in no way made it more palatable. “You don’t mean eat people, like that skunk monster was doing out there?”
Monika shrugged again as she reached up to open a cabinet in the kitchen. “I mean, you can if you wanna. But it’s not my kink, if ya know what I mean?” She pulled out a metal tin and pried the top off without breaking any of her long blue fingernails. Pulling the red and purple things she had picked up in the alley out of her pocket — they looked like red ice cream bons bons or large gumdrops — she dropped them in the tin, put the lid back on with a snap and returned the container to its shelf in the cabinet.
“What was that stuff? Did the wereSkunk drop it?” Robin hoped the answer wasn’t monster poop, though maybe that would be in total alignment with the rest of the weirdness this place offered.
Monika waved at the comfy furniture. “Okay, okay. Hold your horses, Santa Man. Take a seat and tell me your name and I’ll give the rundown about life here in Bigbad City.”
Robin realized she had introduced herself out on the street but he must never have returned the courtesy. “Oh gawd, I’m so sorry. My name is Robin. Robin Bennett. I’m from Albuquerque, but I guess that detail maybe doesn’t really matter right now.”
“Tits for truth it don’t matter, cuz this is your home now,” she declared while throwing herself into a soft green lazy chair that swiveled and reclined. She spared no time making herself comfortable. The only thing missing was a couple cocktails and a plate of hors d’oeuvres. Strangely, Robin didn’t feel hungry or even thirsty. Shouldn’t he be at least one of those things after all this craziness? Weird. He was tired and even a little shaky but he had absolutely no cravings for anything edible. He took a seat on the couch but stayed on the edge to show he was ready to pay close attention to everything Monika had to say.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“First off, you’re gonna want to get as many useful skills and powers and items as you can. The ones you start with are super crappy. What is your archetype anyway?”
Robin took a deep breath and looked ashamedly at his outfit. “I think it said I’m a Mall Santa.”
“That’s your job, your Occupation, Robin Claus,” she chided. “I mean, what’s your type of character? It’s called ‘archetype’ here but video games might call it a class or some shit. For instance, my archetype is Scholar and my chosen occupation is Alchemist.”
“You mean like turning lead into gold, alchemy?”
Monika actually laughed out loud. “I suppose, maybe. But gold isn’t of much use here. Nah, I craft potions and liquid magic stuff. Let me guess, you had a job once as a mall Santa?” Robin nodded. “I bet you’re a musician or actor or somethin’.”
It was Robin’s turn to chortle. He affected a French accent, “Dingdingding! You, madame, are quite correct.” He switched back to his normal voice upon seeing Monika’s eyes narrow, hopefully not in irritation. “Yeah, I’m an actor and I worked more than a couple seasons as Santa, especially now that I’m older.”
“That tracks,” Monika agreed. “I was a chemist back in the real world. Went to grad school an’ all that. Had me a real good job, too, testing foods and flavors for a big pastry company. Now that I’ve been here for, like, ten years or some bullshit, I’ve almost forgotten what real food tastes like.”
Robin was flabbergasted. “But there’s food here.” He pointed out the window toward the bodega down the street. “I saw people buying groceries. Are you saying you haven’t eaten in ten years?”
“Nah, that’s for the plain folk,” she replied, sucking teeth and waving the back of her hand toward the same window. “They need to eat food, or at least they think they do. You and me and other Players don’t need that kind of food no more.”
“Well that sucks,” Robin whistled, leaning back to fully slouch on the couch. A cinnamon bun sure sounded good. Or any donut, really.
“Nah, it’s not so bad. Saves time not having to shop and cook and dine and all that. The downside is we do have to consume Resources. That’s what all the bland folk are for. They feed us.”
Not sure he truly wanted to hear the answer, but figuring he had to ask if he had any hope of understand anything, Robin half whispered, “So you weren’t joking. We have to eat people?” He felt sick anticipating the response.
“Well, I think I said dine on people. Their Flesh, the meat of people is only one Resource we can make use of. If you want to get your spent dice and attribute cards back you’ll have to ingest Resources. Luckily, Resources get converted into physical pieces. We don’t actually have to eat people-nuggies or suck the life force out of old Ms. Crack-in-the-Box down the block. I mean, you can if you wanna, but its messy and unnecessary. You saw that Feral ripping a lady apart. It’s a choice.”
So that was how he could regain his expended game bits. They only disappeared from his satchel of holding until he refreshed them. “What if I don’t do that? What happens?”
Monika slowly shook her head from side to side, braids scraping across her shoulders. “Mmmm-mmmmh. Ya don’t wanna run your Components down too far. If you do, you won’t be able to take actions beyond basic walking and talking.”
That didn’t sound good. “What are the other options if Flesh isn’t to my liking?”
“Luckily, as a human, you and me have options. We can consume any of the five: Flesh, Faith, Fear, Will and Life. It does’t matter too much to us, any of ‘em will keep us alive but you’ll find certain types of Resources will provide better fuel for certain abilities than others.”
“How will I know which ones are best?”
“It’s kinda irritating the instruction sheets don’t tell us that stuff,” Monika admitted. “You’ll have to use regular scientific method, you know — trial and error to figure it out. I bet ya that sad little zappy-zap spell you tried to cast refreshes with Faith. You’ll need to munch down some prayer biscuits to recharge it.”
“Oh, okay. How do I know how many resources I have?” Maybe Monika wasn’t going to be the best guide, but at least he knew more than an hour ago.
Monika wordlessly opened the bedazzled satchel hanging from her belt and puled out a parchment sheet identical to the one Robin had but he could see this one was covered with icons and numbers. She turned the sheet so he could see it fully. “Right here on your Player Sheet is a list of all your stats like Skills, Attributes, Money, Reputations and Items. It also show your current Resources.” Hers had a list of the five types mentioned a moment ago with a number next to it:
Robin nodded as if completely understood everything he was looking at. He’d check his own list later. Examining the rest of the apartment he could see a bathroom along with a bedroom and one other closed door, presumably a second bedroom. If I don’t have to eat and drink then I guess the only thing I need from the shitter is the shower.
He had no desire to head back out into the wider game world and try to fend for himself. If this were the real world he’d put his acting chops to use and see if he couldn’t wine and dine her into asking him to stay. She had all the wrong pieces and parts for him to be comfortable taking things past casual flirtation, but the process had saved his bacon more than a few times in his adult life. Since neither wining nor dining seemed a viable way to spend time in this fuck stain of a place, any flirtation would be too obvious and Monika did not seem like the sort to suffer a fool. She might even turn him into a toad or something.
He remembered his Skill deck had a card called Carouse. That meant partying and drinking and socializing and stuff. Maybe he and Monika could go out on the town and have some fun and he could whittle away at her reluctancy to keep him around. Maybe he could even find some way to prove himself useful or desirable. The risk would be they might run into another monster and all he’d end up doing would be proving how little help he actually was.
Robin cleared his throat and affected his most casual tone of voice. “Hey, maybe we should go out for a drink or something? You could show me where the safe places are, what’s fun to do around here and fill me in a bit more on how to go about getting Resources.”
Monika guffawed sounding like a put-upon granny. “Child, there is no fun to be had out there. First off, drinks and food all taste like tofu. Sure you can get krunked and all, but there’s no culinary joy in it. Second off, it’s safest to keep your head low and not attract too much attention. This suburb has been quiet enough for a long time and I don’t want to go makin’ more noise than I need to. Today’s little scuffle was bad enough.”
Robin delivered a cheeky grin. “You sure? My treat.”
She sucked her teeth loudly this time. “Listen, Broke Saint Nick, I’m pretty sure the game didn’t give you much in the way of money, let alone Reputation. I’d bet all you could afford is a couple cups of the swill served at Smeggy Meg’s. No way am I risking my neck for that.”
“Who’s Smeggy Meg?”
“She and her brother are the only other Players in this burb. The dumb Demon bitch has the flaps to open up a public bar a few blocks over.” Monika shook her head like she was chastising a child. “She's a succubus so she’d be more’n happy to help you out if you show her your dick. Now I think it’s time you get gone.”
By the tone of her voice he could tell his time being welcome in her home was over. Best not push things too far as he was in no position to alienate the one person who had been of any help so far. He’d be smart to get going and leave the door metaphorically open, or at least not locked, for when he needed assistance in the future.
