NOVEL FROG Aggro 4.17
Aggro 4.17
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
April 15, 2011
5:33 PM
CONGRATULATIONS!
Time Crisis 4: Rise of The Goblin King
COMPLETED!
TIME: 21'46"27
SCORE: 4129450
ACCURACY: 82%
PLAYER 1: WIN!
"Yeah, he does!" Greg crowed. Turning his back to the screen, he dropped the gun-shaped controller into it's provided holster and glanced over at his friend. Unable to hide the victorious grin on his face, he didn't bother trying.
"So…"
"Shut. Up." Even with the annoyingly loud sounds of the arcade, Sparky's acerbic tone rang loud and clear. At least, enough for Greg to hear.
"Whoever loses buys the winner a churro," Greg replied in a sing-song voice, tilting his head from side-to-side. "Them's the rules, Axel."
"What did I say about using my name?" Sparky raised the gun controller to Greg's chest, a distinctly annoyed expression on his face. "Seriously."
Greg's gaze flicked down to the white controller aimed center mass, a playful grin still on his face. After a moment, the blond let out a snorting laugh and spread his arms out to his sides. "You know, I'm pretty sure even if that was a real gun, I could probably take the hit."
Raising a finger to the barrel, Greg's grin widened as he pushed the controller away from his chest. "Reinforcement or not."
With a roll of his eyes, Sparky dropped his own controller down as well and turned back to Greg. "I don't know why I'm surprised but..." Sparky paused, shaking his head. "You're even more annoying now than you were… oh, I dunno? About a month ago."
"Aww, you're just saying that cause I beat ya again." Greg leaned in, hands folded across his chest. "All moody 'cause you lost? I mean, that only makes… what?" He tilted his head to the side, grin growing more smug by the second. "Fourteen wins to your zero."
"Zero?" Sparky shot back, pushing Greg back with an outstretched palm. "You mean one, brah. Fourteen to one."
The blond rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh.
'Wow, ok. So, we're doing this now?" Greg clicked his tongue as he tilted his head from side-to-side. "We both know I let you win the skee-ball game, dude. I made one shot right in the hundred hole and then let the rest go in the tens."
Reaching over, the blond patted his friend on the shoulder. "That was a pity win, mi amigo."
As he shook off Greg's grip, Sparky let out a muttered, "Still counts, asshole," and folded his arms over his chest to match his friend.
"Okay, I'll give you that but…" Greg let out a musical hum as he leaned forwards again, grinning as he stood a few inches away from his friend's face. "Doesn't that still mean you gotta buy me fourteen churr-"
"If you lovebirds are gonna make out, you mind moving so someone else can use the game?" A deadpan voice called out from behind them, cutting Greg off mid-sentence.
Both Greg and Sparky turned their heads at the voice, Greg slower and far more casually than his unpowered friend. The blond raised his eyebrows slightly as he took in the appearance of the person that interrupted him.
Fair-skinned, black haired, and with features delicate enough to be mistaken for feminine, Greg only had one thought running through his mind as he raised a hand to his chin.
Wow, I never thought I could put a real-life face to the word bishounen, but here we are. Unable to hold himself back, the blond let out a loud snort of a laugh, drawing the attention of Sparky again. Not bothering to stop even as two pairs of eyes turned to glance at him, Greg waved off his friend's attention as he leaned back against the game again.
While Greg didn't bother saying anything, far too content to laugh at his own jokes, Sparky didn't seem to find the interruption funny at all. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at the pale skinned pretty boy and pulled a face. "What'd you say?"
Pretty boy moved the lollipop around in his mouth, pushing it to the side as he began to speak. "I said, you lovebi-"
"I heard what you said," Sparky snapped back, now wearing an open grimace. "And the answer is no, we're not done. Why don't you go check out another game and stop being a grabby bitch?"
The pretty boy laughed at Sparky's retort, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth and pointing it at Sparky. "No need to be a dick, man. You could just hurry up."
"And you could just fuck right off right back to wherever you came from," the mixed teen shot back, taking a few steps forward.
Pretty boy scoffed at Sparky's retort as he used one hand to lazily comb his fingers through his hair. "...Whatever, man. I don't need this energy right now." Rolling his eyes, he turned his back to both Greg and Sparky as he headed in the direction of some racing games.
Staring at the guy's back, Sparky spat out a muttered, "Faggot."
"Whoa!" Greg exclaimed, his laughter having petered down a few seconds ago. Drawing Sparky's attention with the sound, he placed a palm on his own chest, as if he could hear the Pledge of Allegiance playing. "This is a Christian arcade. That means no homophobia."
Sparky shot Greg a look through narrowed eyes. "I feel like that's the opposite of what a Christian arcade would be about but sure..."
Greg shrugged as he gave his friend another grin. "So, can I get my churros now or what?"
"Fuck your churros, brah," Sparky growled back. "I call fucking Hax. I bet you have a Gaming ability now, right?" Sparky began. "Is that how you beat me like this?"
Greg hummed. "You mean, beat you so badly that I basically justified the existence of the mercy rule?"
Curling his hands into claws, Sparky let out a frustrated groan without opening his mouth. "Dude…"
Bursting out into another grin, Greg snickered for a few seconds until he got himself under control. "I can't believe you're asking me if I have a gaming skill. Wouldn't that just apply to the game I'm always playing?"
The blond paused, smile shrinking slightly before it widened again. "Hell, that would be the most meta power ever. That would be like double Hax. Hax squared!"
"And that would be different from your regular powers how?"
"Hmmm… fair point but the answer's still a big fat nope!" Greg remarked brightly as he leaned backwards onto the game case.
"Really?" The teen tossed his head back, the action pushing some hair out of his eyes as he shot Greg a blank look. "I thought you made an ability for everything. Didn't you get a Driving ability from go-karts or something?"
"Well, yeah, but I didn't get one for basketball, skee-ball, or the golf game back there," Greg paused to gesture over his shoulder with his thumb. "I did get one for Handguns about an hour back, though."
Sparky's eyes narrowed. "I knew it. I call Hax!"
Greg let out an audible groan, slumping his shoulders. "Fine. It's a little bit of Hax." He brought his thumb and forefinger together in front of his eye. "Just a sprinkle. It's not like I can turn it off."
"You could let me win fourteen times in a row. After that, we call it even."
At Sparky's retort, Greg raised a hand to his mouth, his cheeks bulging up as his head jerked forward. The mixed teenager raised an eyebrow, far too used to Greg's dramatics. "What's wrong now, Goldilocks?"
The goldilocks in question shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight and turned his gaze back to Sparky. "I'm sorry. I thought I just heard someone say something so disgusting that it almost made me vomit."
"Oh, fuck right off, Veder." Sparky frowned, crossing his arms again in a frustrated huff. "I do your ass favors all the time and you won't give me this? The fuck, brah?"
Greg opened his mouth, a smile on his face as he prepared to snark back only for the smile to die midway, the snark following it. Huh, he is right, though. Sparky has done a lot for me. The blond glanced up at his friend's frowning face. Hell, he made me two different sets of costumes and he helped me train too. A bunch of times.
"I'm sorry, Sparks," Greg said with a sigh. "That was kind of a dick move, huh?"
"Not the dickest of moves, but at least halfway there on the scale, yeah." Sparky adjusted his hair, moving a few strands out of his eyes as he paused for a moment. "I mean, it's like throw me a bone here."
"Sorry, dude."
"Don't give me sorry. Sorry doesn't do shit for anyone." Sparky rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh of his own."Just… give me something, dude. I skipped band for weeks. I spent money on the shit for your costume. It's like you don't think I actually do shit for you."
An idea popped into Greg's head, his brain picking up on a path that Sparky's words had led him down. "How about I pay you back all the money you spent on me, plus interest?" Greg offered, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Just for starters."
Sparky let out a snort, rolling his eyes at Greg's words. "Sure, just drop a couple hundred bucks and we'll call it even."
Greg smirked. "How about I do you one better? [Inventory]."
As Greg's right hand slowly began to leave the pocket of his jeans, his friend's eyes began to wide as he caught sight of the thick bar in Greg's hands as it's distinct golden shine was only enhanced by the bright lights of the arcade.
Rather than pull it out all the way, Greg left it poking out just enough for Sparky to see and winked at his friend.
Amber eyes widened and Sparky let out an odd squeaking noise.
"I didn't get to show you before but it's..." Greg paused, tilting his head as an odd expression crossed his face, "it's part of what I got from beating Lung."
"Is… Is that…"
"Gold. A whole bar, Sparky."
"A whole…"
"500 thousand bucks sitting in my pocket, dude. Jackpot, right?"
Sparky's eye twitched at the number he rattled off, his gaze repeatedly flicking between the bar sticking out from Greg's pocket and his face.
"See," Greg continued, oblivious to Sparky's growing unease "I was figuring I'd cut off a small piece and give it to you. That should should be enough to keep you set for a wh-" Greg would have went on further if Sparky hadn't rushed up to him with a murderous expression on his face.
"Motherfucker." Less than an inch away from his face, Sparky poked the blond in the chest repeatedly, hissing at him under his breath. "Are you trying to fucking out yourself, you ignorant, whitebread piece of shit? I swear to god, I will shove my size 12 boot up your asshole if you don't put that shiny piece of shit back right the fuck now!"
Greg slid back, eyes wide as he did exactly what Sparky had ordered, the bar disappearing into a pocket that was far too small for it. "Whoa, Sparky…" He began, raising his hands up defensively.
"What?"
"Dude, you gotta relax," Greg cautioned, glancing around to the arcade full of other kids, the sound of screaming, bells, whistles and other random noises contributing to the din. "It wasn't like anybody else was paying attention."
Sparky muttered something unflattering under his breath but stepped back regardless, his shoulders slumping as most of his annoyance seemed to dissipate. "What were you even planning on doing with it anyway? 500 stacks… that's…" He shook his head, glancing down at Greg's pocket again. "That's a lot of money."
"Understatement of the year."
"Shut up," Sparky drawled, dragging a hand down his face. "What are you gonna even do with all that money, brah?"
"Well," Greg pursed his lips, his eyes glancing towards the ceiling as he tried to recall his general plan for the cash. "After I sell the bar, I was thinking about getting a car, or a motorcycle or something. Maybe, buy a building by the docks to convert into a secret lair."
Sparky blinked. "That's… that's ridiculous."
"Yeah, you're right." Greg nodded, cupping his chin with one hand. "Secret lairs are for villains. Heroes have a headquarters."
"No, you i-" Sparky cut himself off with a groan, smacking himself in the face with a palm. "I mean, that's crazy. Did you even know how much something like that costs?"
"About sixty-five to seventy-five thousand dollars, honestly," Greg replied, his tone glib. "Five to ten thousand for an abandoned property and fifty to sixty thousand for new plumbing, electric, paint, siding work, windows, doors, drywall, flooring, insulation, and new appliances."
"H-how…" There was a pause, Sparky's mouth falling open slightly as Greg simply smiled back at him. "...how do y-"
"HGTV."
Rather than respond, Sparky let out a groan, kneading his forehead with one hand. "I'm not gonna go into exactly what's wrong with that plan. My head hurts already. I'm not doing this again."
"Doing what?" Greg asked, legitimately curious.
"Nothing," Sparky hissed back, glaring at Greg from behind his raised hand. The long-haired teen let out a long breath before continuing. "It's nothing. Just… just…. Anyway, you said fourteen churros, right?"
Only slightly confused by the sudden change in topic, but deciding to take it in stride, Greg nodded. "Yep."
"Great," Sparky replied sarcastically. Rolling his eyes, he stuck his hand out towards Greg. "I'm gonna need you to pay up, though. You already owe me for labor. Might as well cough up some money for your own food, brah."
The blond tilted his head to the side, a smile on his face as he plunged one hand into the pocket of his jeans again. "No problem. [Inventory.]"
Pulling out a wad of bills from his pocket, Greg slapped them into Sparky's hands as his other hand patted him on the cheek. "That's half a stack. Don't spend it all in one place, sweetheart."
"I will cut you."
Greg tilted his head to the side and smiled. "We both know you'd be doing me a favor."
His friend simply rolled his eyes and turned towards the concession line, shooting Greg the middle finger as he left. Chuckling, Greg leaned up against the screen again and reached into his pocket again, this time not needing to enter his inventory to retrieve what he needed.
The object sat perfectly in his palm, ensconced in his hand so snugly that even without the royal blue grips on the side of the device, Greg wouldn't ever have to worry about dropping it. Not that he would ever try to drop it, of course.
Risk breaking his very first smartphone? No way, Jose.
Speaking of guys named Jose, the phone store clerk had handled everything for Greg really nicely and rather quickly once Greg dropped a thousand dollars on the counter. You have to appreciate customer service like that.
Seven hundred and eighty-five of that one thousand dollars had gone directly to his new phone, the shiny white model on display on the highest dais in the middle of the store. One hundred went towards a wireless set of earphones designed for him to take calls while 'driving.' Seventy-five had gone towards an extended warranty, one that came with a free upgrade to the next phone to come out in the series. And the last fifty? The last fifty was a tip to Jose.
It had been a thoughtless splurge, Greg had to admit. He had been taking his time on the walk home from Emma's place and he happened to see the building, the large front windows advertising the newest products.
Dropping a thousand bucks all at once for a new phone wouldn't have been something he would have even considered a few weeks ago. Granted, he wouldn't have had that much money a few weeks ago but still...
Although, if Greg really had to think about it, this wasn't an entirely thoughtless splurge. Entirely being the operative all, it wasn't like he didn't need a new phone. It had been three years since he had been using the same candy blue flip phone that his mom had bought him for his twelfth birthday, right before smartphones started getting big.
Upgrading to a smartphone now only made sense.
When Sparky had seen it, he had simply nodded his head and gone, "Nice."
He didn't even bother asking him if his mom had bought it for him, his friend still well aware of he and his mom's tense relationship over the last week. Sparky's lack of surprise could also be attributed to the fact that he already had a smartphone, his parents dropping one on him for his birthday in February.
Granted, it wasn't as fancy as the one Greg had but, then again, it wasn't half-bad either.
Turning his attention back to his new phone, Greg tapped a single icon on the concentric circle that served as the app menu on most smartphone models. As the app opened up, Greg stared at the front page of the single website that he spent more time on than any other.
Parahumans Online
Login:
Password:
Normally, he wouldn't have waited an entire day to set up his PHO account on his phone but then again, he hadn't felt as interested in it recently what with other things taking up his time.
I'm not even logged in on PHO at home anymore, am I? Greg realized with a puzzled look. PHO only kept you logged in on your computer as long as you went on the site once every twenty-four hours. From what Greg could remember, he hadn't bothered signing on in since… A week ago, I guess? Ugh, can't believe I'm back to being a lurker again.
Resolving to get back in the groove of things once he got back home, Greg entered in his login information. As the app opened up in full, Greg raised his finger to tap on his favorited sub-forum only to pause mid-way, something else catching his attention.
Huh, thirty-seven PM's? That's… weird. He did remember having a bunch of unread messages the last time he logged into PHO but Greg didn't really bother checking them out, considering how there were so many threads talking about him and Shadow Stalker to draw his attention. Might as well check them out.
As the messages loaded, Greg's eyes widened as he realized that he only had one thread in his PM inbox, meaning that all the private messages in his inbox had come from one user. GstringGirl?
♦ Private message from GstringGirl:
GstringGirl: void. just got on world of heroes. its cool. i picked an alexandria class. whats your class again?
GstringGirl: void?
GstringGirl: i sent you a friend request on world of heroes. found your account. your hero looks cool too. how did you get a custom class?
GstringGirl: i got to level 10 already. its real fun.
GstringGirl: i dont think my friend request went through. i sent another one just in case.
GstringGirl: void.
GstringGirl: dont mean to bug you if youre busy
GstringGirl: void. you there? i hit level 15. i can switch classes now.
The first two dozen of the messages followed that same vein, with Gstring Girl basically sending him repeated PM's, often several in the same day, trying to get a response. The further Greg went down past that, though, he began to feel slightly uneasy with how often GstringGirl kept messaging him and giving him updates on her game. Doesn't she have other friends or something?
As he kept reading, Greg had to struggle to push down the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Gamer's Mind seemed to be annoyingly absent, leaving him actually missing that calm state of mind it always forced him into. He shook his head, trying to distract himself, but he couldn't seem to get his mind off how GstringGirl had sounded.
He had been doing a lot recently, his online friend had guessed that much right, but she couldn't comprehend just how busy he actually was.
In between training, school, Emma, and hero stuff, Greg really hadn't had much time to spend on regular video games anymore. It was a sad fact, but there were more important things that he had to deal with. Hell, he still hadn't made restaurant reservations for him and Emma yet.
Apparently, she actually did have plans for both today and Saturday, some swimsuit modeling gig, which meant he had to find an open reservation on Sunday. Considering how booked weekends tended to be, that was going to be a nightmare and a half.
With all that to deal with, Greg knew that he just didn't have the time to spend like four hours a day on PHO, chatting with someone he'd never met in person while he played video games. It may have been harsh, but it was the truth.
It's not really my fault that GstringGirl feels bad, right? Greg thought to himself, desperately trying to convince himself of this. Sure, we played a lot together and… I guess, we also talked a lot… and I did mention meeting up a few times but… He frowned, unsure of what direction his thoughts were moving in. Why do I feel guilty for being busy? I had things to do. It's not my fault that she got left hanging anyway.
Greg shook his head again as he tried to get his head on straight, focusing his attention back on his phone as he tried to quickly read the last few messages.
♦ Private message from GstringGirl:
GstringGirl: hey void. just wondering if youre doing okay? i sent you messages.
GstringGirl: just a little worried. you haven't been on PHO in a week. You didnt respond.
GstringGirl: void.
GstringGirl: void.
GstringGirl: i know your probably busy but. im still here if you want to play again.
GstringGirl: if this is about not giving you a picture of me, i told you i couldnt. my parents.
GstringGirl: void
GstringGirl: void
GstringGirl: void
GstringGirl: please.
GstringGirl: void
GstringGirl: im sorry for bugging you.
Greg's arm dropped as he slumped back against the arcade box, the blond staring up at the ceiling with a blank look on his face.
"...Fuck."
You have gained 1 WIS.
Spoiler: STATUS