Open - To New Memories

Savannah’s silver eyes surveyed the tavern at large and she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. The building was full of people, both NPC and PC alike and outside of a few cosmetic changes on the part of the PCs, she couldn’t tell one from the other. It made her smile because she wasn’t the only one logged in on New Years Eve, celebrating with pixelated data and people she would never meet in real life.

They were rowdy, singing and yelling, arm wrestling and showing off their gear to one another. Savannah sat away from most of them, at a booth in a corner that allowed her to watch all of the festivities. Most left her alone, for which she was thankful, though a small part of her did wish for companionship. She didn’t feel the need to seek it out and instead stayed where she was, nursing a mug of ale which tasted like Angry Orchard Hard Apple Cider. That was enough for her.

Truly, she should have been working this eve instead of sitting in a crowded tavern, listening to bards singing and women giggle. But she had been fired earlier in the week. Was it really her fault that she decked a guy in the face for grabbing her ass? Yes, it had happened in the past and she had let it go, but there was something in her that wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t just allow him to put his paws on her whenever he wanted without her permission. So, she did what she did and got fired for it.

Sighing, she ducked her head and gave a self-loathing shake of her head. This game was affecting her more and more than she’d like to admit. Maybe a break was in order. After all, she did need to find a new job and a new place to live. Her roommate would soon be leaving to move in with her boyfriend and there was no way she could afford the rent for this place alone.

A flicker of thought captured her attention and held her hostage for a moment: she could always sign herself up for a deep-dive clinic…​

 

Scon let out a heavy yawn and stretched his arms wildly above him as he stomped through the street. He had only been logged in an hour, or so he'd guess, and he was through three pints, two brawls and getting kicked out of his previously favourite public house. He had been in a boisterous mood before he had even picked up his headset and the simulated beverages were only furthering the restlessness. Was it bad that, for someone who never actually consumed alcohol in the real world, he had gotten himself barred from three separate taverns since starting his Terrasphere experience? Of course it was...

Speaking of the real world, and indeed drinking, it was New Year's Eve - an excuse for everyone to get drunk, kiss each other and launch fireworks. Silvestre had received invites from his colleagues to go out, even to take a journey down to the big apple and celebrate in style, but there was more chance of him winning this game tonight than leave the comfort of his bedroom. Was there even a main storyline in TS? He doubted it, having experienced something more like a simulator than an MMO so far. Albeit, much more interesting than farming or driving a truck.

A raucous chorus of cheering snapped the Felis from his thoughts to a bar he had yet to have been to, the windows casting a yellow glow onto the evening cobbles and inviting the male close. Grinning and pumping his fist, Scon began sauntering over to the front door, the continuous cries of excitement sending his blood pumping at the idea of getting embroiled in some arm wrestles or drinking contests. He was sure the Wintersday beer tent was still having an effect on his character... He liked it.

Inside, Scon immediately set himself to investigative mode and scanned the patrons. Sure enough, there were a group of big, brawny fellows taking it in turns to lock hands at a dwarved table. Currently, a ginger human with broad shoulders was forcing some sort of elf (Sylvestre still didn't have the names of the non-Felis races down) to concede as he rammed the slight male's knuckles down onto the wood. It was a mismatch, to be sure, and the group encircling the pair cheered as the obvious favourite won and the presumed bookmakers paid out on their numerous bets.

He was just about to throw his hat into the ring when he happened to look the other direction and see something he really hadn't expected to today. A few steps brought him to the only empty seats in the tavern; those either side of a beautiful but cold female.

"Fancy meeting you 'ere!" He roared ceremoniously, extending both arms to gesture at the solo human. "Thought you'd be out grinding or something." He paused and smirked. "Ohhh, maybe you are looking to grind." Scon smiled to himself, content with his crude joke.

 

Savannah’s mercury eyes danced from the wood table she was sitting at to the familiar features of the male Felis towering over her. His booming voice made her wince, though she suspected he was loud just to be annoying and no other reason. Her eyes narrowed at him before quickly glancing at the seat across from her. Shit, was he going to join her? She didn’t want to him, but she couldn’t just tell him not to sit down, right? Fuck, why was he here to begin with?

Happy new year, Savannah said as way of greeting before lifting her tankard toward him with a half-smile. She ignored his crude joke, believing now, for sure, that he must be some pre-pubescent kid outside of TerraSphere who had nothing to do with his life than troll other people. Actually, I find it much safer to get intoxicated within a videogame instead of out there on the street where idiots decide to get behind the wheel.

Clearing her throat, she crossed her ankles beneath the table and made no gesture for him to sit down. Hopefully he’d take the hint? Company is a bit better as well. Pointedly, she looked around the tavern at all the smiling, laughing, arm-wrestling NPCs before returning her gaze to him. She tilted her head to the side, inquisitively. Say, what are you doing here anyway? I thought you didn’t associate with NPCs or something?​

 

Scon grinned as Savannah raised her drink to him in the standard 'cheers' motion that was commonplace in movies and TV shows. He didn't yet have a beverage of his own to respond with, so he leant back towards the bar just behind him with intent to get the barman's attention. He was a step off from the wooden structure and so he somewhat stumbled towards it, almost falling into the bar and ruining any chance he (thought he) had of appearing cool infront of the attractive female.

The barman provided Scon with a beer before he had even turned around, the AI clearly ready for the predictable Felis' action. Scon paid the man quickly, dropping the gold coins into his hand before he returned to Savannah, unceremoniously flopping into her side of the table. He was uncomfortably close beside her, bodies brushing as his drink sloshed over the tankard's rim and onto the table. He raised his cup to her in a late retort to her half-hearted celebration, grinning from ear to ear like the apparent simpleton he was:

"NPC?" He asked in response to her question. "I don't know what an NPC is..." The catboy started, tail hanging between them. He was obviously teasing, having confirmed his awareness of the meta world before. He put on a robotic voice and moved his free arm around in a rigid, flat palm motion. "Error detected, intoxication in a video game. Shutting down..." and with that he slowly leaned his head forward and closed his eyes, as if he had been turned off.

After a second, the male looked up again, snapping back to his distorted idea of reality.

"You know, that's pretty sensible... If boring, I guess? Well, would you be out eye-arr-ell if you knew you would be safe?" Scon asked probingly, before changing the subject for fear of losing his familiar company. "Where'd you get the idea I don't like NPCs from, anyway?" Came his next topic, taking a deep gulp of his drink and sizing the female up, wondering what he had told her - it wasn't that she was wrong, so much as he had no recollection of sharing something like that, and was worried about what else she might know. Drunk Scon, real-world or in-game, was a confidentiality liability. "NPCs here are practically real, anyway."

"I'm sure you could take that brawler on..." Scon said after another slurp from his cup, nodding to the oversized male who had just won another arm-wrestle. "And I bet we could hustle some idiots too!" This cat had all the bright ideas...

 

Perhaps the droll expression that immediately crossed her face was enough of an indication that she didn’t find him funny? Probably not considering he immediately sat up from his robot mimcry and continued to talk to her. Why was it that he was even hanging around her? She hadn’t seen him in some time and their last run-in was for a quest that she didn’t want help on. Maybe he was lonely? Her silver eyes were quick as they passed over his head, down his chest, and back up again. Doubtful.

Don’t have the money to go out, she told him point blank with a causal shrug of her shoulders. She needed to be saving what little she could from her forthcoming check in order to move. Groceries and regular food was expensive enough; there was no way she could justify going out to a club or bar and spending money on booze just because that was the tradition on New Years Eve.

But, I have the money here to get a little buzzed and considering its all in my head anyway, why not party here instead of there? She might have sounded a little loony to the regular gamer, but Savannah was slowly realizing how much this life mattered more than her other. There was nothing for her outside this game other than strife, disappointment and loneliness. That being said, she wasn’t completely sold on giving up her real life…not yet, anyway.

You didn’t seem to have a high opinion of Henry, she remarked, referencing this quest together. I mean, I don’t care either way, it just seems odd that you would come and…celebrate with NPCs instead of other players. Or, even, people out in the real world. She gave another shrug before shaking her head. Eh, I’m not making sense. Sorry. I’ve only had one pint, but maybe it’s stronger here. She closed one eye and peered into the tankard with the other, a low hum of consideration coming from her throat.

At his comment, her attention flickered upwards to the brawler he had pointed out. Pfft, you’re kidding me right? The man in question had muscles upon muscles upon muscles; obviously a barbarian type or some strong-arm fighter for sure. She couldn’t make out a weapon, but as another cheer went up around him and many hands patted his massive shoulders and biceps, Savannah quietly chuckled. I would rather not get my arm broken, thanks. You wanna try hustling him, be my guest. She gestured toward the brute with an open palm and a wide, fake smile.

Granted, he fucks you up, I refuse to help you. You’re on your own, bucko.​

 

Scon finished his beer with a deep gulp, tilting the container up to drain it completely, before inhaling heavily and wiping away the excess moisture around his mouth. The fact that even this action was so genuine, the drops having clung to his lips and jowls, wasn't lost to Scon - or rather Silvestre, who continued to marvel at the depth of realism in Terrasphere. The fact that he spent his day job working on trying to achieve even 1% of this technology helped keep the man noticing each little feature and, he hoped, stopped him slipping into it - the real world was mundane and often depressing and Terrasphere posed a very potent question - why bother?

"I guess having no cash store helps, haha..." the male replied softly to his poor drinking partner. He wasn't, to his mind, especially affluent, but the male was certainly comfortable in his job - his bills, groceries and leisure activities (which admittedly had mostly become Terrasphere for the last month or so) were all aptly afforded with enough to both save and treat himself on occasion. In game, he was actually less well off, having done little in the way of questing - that, and he mostly spent his time online drinking, causing trouble, getting attacked or... well, all of the above.

Having slipped into thinking about things from a real world perspective, the male was caught out of sorts when Savannah brought up the NPC from their previous quest. In the barn he had been completely enraged by the murderous farmer's actions, forgetting in the moment and the engrossing detail that the man wasn't even real. He opened his mouth to blurt out some comment about how the AI character had been stupid, but his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth and he eyed his flask.

"I'll be honest." He said instead, fingers flexing around the handle of his tankard in fidgety fits. "...It had nothing to do with him being not-human." Scon looked up, locking eyes with the female. "I just didn't like his cowardice?" The incline in tone in his voice purveyed his question, like he wasn't sure that was even a valid feeling to have - as if Scon needed to seek validation from some other player...

"Yeah, you kinda contradicted yourself." He mumbled to Savannah as she apologised. "They're basically the same thing, in this crazy game... People, going out, being drunk..." Eyeing the empty bottom of his flagon, the male sighed. "I don't really get on with people out there, Scon's attitude is much more fun for, uh, socialising with..."

Suddenly the male smirked, launched his cup high into the air with one hand and stood to dramatically catch it, posing with a flourish as the handle looped around his opposite index finger. Bits of foam had flickered across the table and their bench, but the stunt had otherwise been flawless.

"See, definitely not drunk yet! No need to be talking like this, haHA!" Scon turned to Savannah and poked the rim of her glass. "Want another? I'll buy..." And regardless of what she replied, the male would head to the bar and buy them both two more (each.) The last of his gold, how embarrassing... There was still at least half an hour until midnight...

"Well, from what I've seen, I'd bet your stats would be fine." Scon said as he plonked down four mugs of liquid gold, prompted to reply in regards to the arm-wrestling patron by another loud chorus of cheers. "Assuming the game has, you know, underlying strength ratings or something... You're a tough fighter. And I'm like 90% sure that meathead's just an NPC..." He began consuming his second pint of the establishment. "And it's not like we're hustling him - it's the people betting on him we'd fleece!" Scon paused, smiling wryly. "Doesn't matter, anyway - I have no gold now, aha..."

 

Cowardice.

The minute the word passed Scon’s lip, Savannah’s storm-grey eyes narrowed at him and her expression fell. There was nothing there, no smile, no frown, merely a blank canvass of a woman staring at a man with conflicting emotions hoovering behind her eyes. She wanted to protest, wanted to jump up and shout that Henry wasn’t a coward. He was a man who had lost everything, and he lashed out in the only way he knew how and now…well, he wouldn’t be getting praised for his killing of those soldiers.

She nibbled contemplatively on her bottom lip as Scon went off to get more alcohol, the last sips of her own drink passing down her throat with little fanfare. She felt for Henry and maybe that’s why she took such offense to Scon’s word. But to explain at that to him would be wasting her breath. She snorted to herself, rolling her eyes at her own thoughts. If she didn’t speak up for the things she cared about, what good was her voice anyway? Then again, like he had said, this was all a game…

Hell, he still had the ability to differentiate his actual self from his avatar. Savannah was unsure when she stopped seeing a difference between this her and the one sitting in her apartment, alone, with a VR headset on…

Thanks, she said with a false smile, her lips stretched a little too wide for the reaction to be genuine. Her head nodded to the drinks on the table and she mentally prepared herself for what was going to be a long night. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave herself a shake, trying to remove this funk that had settled around her like a shawl. It was New Year’s Eve for crying out loud. New year, new her…or whatever the meme was.

Nah, he’s not, Savannah said as she pushed her empty tankard toward the center of the table and grabbed a full one closer to her. There are certain speech patterns that the NPCs stick to. Whoever made this game tried to give them some slang here and there, but there’s a…a…force when they use it. It doesn’t just roll off the tongue. That barbarian over there and definitely a player. She took a tip of the ale and puckered her lips, hissing through her teeth.

Okay, that’s much stronger than what I was drinking before, holy shit. What is this? She blinked, eyeing the amber liquid with a speculative glare before turning her eyes to him. How don’t you have any gold. It’s so easy to get money in this game. From quests or selling all the junk shit that drops from the monsters. I found a…a…old coin, I think it was? And I sold it to a vendor for, like, ten gold pieces.​

 

Scon smirked devilishly as Savannah tasted the first of her cups. He had just asked for what he thought were two normal-ish pints off tap, but apparently this was a stronger brew, given the female's flinch. Maybe she was previously nursing watered down booze to keep her appearances up, and was just a lightweight after all? He laughed a little and didn't say anything, content to not rattle his begrudging partner for now. He didn't want to get the name of the beer wrong, anyway...

Scon raised an eyebrow as Savannah reasoned against his assumption. She apparently had an eye for NPCs, figuring out their speech patterns ahead of him. He hadn't engaged in much real conversation with any, beyond drunken talk of the bears and babes, and he suspected being inebriated hampered his detection skills a majority of the time... Maybe he would have seen the cues if he had been looking? Maybe he wasn't as detached as he told himself...

"Guess I won't bother then, haha! You must have quite the eye for speech." He complimented sloppily, the halfway mark in his pint tipping his tongue slowly closer to confusion. The buzz was there, for sure. "Thanks for correcting me." He said, staring at her attractive avatar's face for just a little too long. "Guess we're getting close to the big 1-2" He quickly cut his own blank look off, gesturing to the crowd's thickening numbers. Midnight was drawing close.

"Awh, come on!" the male protested as his virtual poverty was attacked. "Not like I mocked you for having no money outside of here, y'know?" He sighed and looked dejectedly into his sparkling flagon. "When I log in all I do is goof off. The only quest I really finished was that one we did together..." He paused, wondering if he should even bother explaining himself. "The damages have added up, always getting into brawls and such. I still need a proper suit of armour..."

After a long pause, Scon asked: "So what's your financial struggle? I know they just increased the subscription fee on Netflix, but I doubt that's it..."

 

You don’t notice it in the city, she told him while glancing around. By looks alone, the NPCs were almost identical to the player characters. If there were physical differences between the two, Savannah had yet to discover them, not that she was actively looking. She liked the suspension of disbelief that TerraSphere offered her. She enjoyed not knowing if she was playing with an actual person or if the person was just good code work on the part of the developers. She wouldn’t actively try to fuck up this version of her reality.

I spend a lot of time in the farming villages and the hamlets. Basically, anywhere outside of the cities and major villages is where you’re likely to find me. There, the NPCs try to employ slang but, like I said, it doesn’t sound authentic. So, having been around them a lot, it’s easier for me to tell when NPCs are, well, NPCs because they’ll try to match our speech patterns. She shook her head and gave a chuckle before silencing herself. She hadn’t actively realized that she knew so much.

Still, she stiffened when the topic of money came rolling around again. She didn’t like thinking of her less than meager funds and the massive life choice that was staring her right in the face. She didn’t know anyone in New York, less so than in New Jersey, where she was currently staying. But she couldn’t move back to Ohio. There was nothing there, nothing interesting, no life waiting for her. Admittedly, there was no life waiting for her anywhere…

I, uh, got fired. She tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible, but her voice caught on the last word. She had been an excellent employee, covering shifts when asked, staying late, working doubles, and because some pig had to get fresh with her and she defended herself, she was let go. What bullshit!

Her hand tightened around her mug and she hastily brought it to her lips, sucking down over half of her drink. Lowering it to the table, she groaned as the burn trickled down her throat and flared in her chest.

So, uh, yeah. Need a new job and a new apartment and stuff, no big deal. She exhaled through her teeth, trying to work through the burn that suffused her ribcage. Holy fuck, remind me to never let you buy me drinks ever again.​

 

Scon felt himself smiling blankly as Savannah began a monologue on the nature of NPC speech. It was assuring to hear her talk, to get involved with something he had said without the usual scolding their 'relationship' had come to feature. The female was glancing around as she spoke but Scon's stare remained fixed on her - or rather through her - as his eyes had glazed over. He was definitely beginning to succumb to the effects of his drinks, tongue growing heavier and focus blurring, but he was far from finished, as he shook off the initial onset of fuzziness.

"I see..." The cat commented. He didn't really see at all. Surely what she observed meant the non-players in the city would be impossible to distinguish, if they were learning real slang beyond that of the rural ones - Moreover, he was daunted by imagining the code required for that - The male's programming skills were nothing compared to the creators of this game (whom he was beginning to suspect might actually be some omnipotent and supernatural force, given the system's prowess...) Especially with the foggy feeling that hung over his brain as he finished his drink. His job felt hopeless, if this was to be his competition...

Speaking of jobs, Savannah dropped the bombshell of being without one, seeming as calm as finding that she had used the last of the milk. Or at least mostly so, the facade breaking slightly as she sought comfort from the drink he had provided her. Scon had put up one of his friends when the guy lost his job a year ago, and the guy looked broken for the majority of the 3 month tenure he had taken on Carvalho's sofa. Maybe Savannah looked the same, and Scon took a long moment to inspect her avatar - as if that was going to provide any clues, the pristine pixels distorted slightly by his wonky vision. He hadn't known what to say to Simon and he sure didn't know what to say to her.

"Luckily, it's your round." He managed with a deep blink, flashing a wide smile as an elbow steadied him against the table. "Feel free to get soda or something..." He paused and laughed at himself. "I mean, they presumably don't have that in the magic middle-ages, but you know, water or juice or whatever. Since alcohol is so bad..."

As Scon finished... taunting? Savannah, the pub had grown briefly silent as someone announced there were only five minutes remaining until the new year...