The Shop, continued
Dec. 9th, 2008 08:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
avevale_intelligencerBy the end of the day I had a fair amount of crystal in the storehouse, and I'd promoted the knight to the point where I could build siege engines. I suspected that that would be where the stuff would get used. The hermit had said he was working on adapting our current designs. The bandits hadn't asked for any more tribute, which meant it would be first thing tomorrow morning that the balloon would go up.
I was still under a bit of a cloud. Ridiculous, I know. I'd never met the man Roger, and if it came to it I didn't know Liliana that well either, but I suppose when things happen a certain way it hits you harder. He'd been blown up. Someone had planned and deliberately executed the action that killed him. The sheer lunacy of that...in a world where more people were dying anyway, because of all the damage we'd done, how could anyone think it would help to kill yet more people?
But for me to be moping around about it myself was not only ridiculous but selfish. Unfortunately, knowing that didn't make me feel any better. Funny how that works. I rode the bus home through freezing drizzle. It seemed to be turning cold again. The weather was all over the place now, of course, another side effect. I thought it had been summer only a few days ago. Let's face it, if you had asked me what the date was I would have had to think. They all blur into one another.
And in the game world too, the solution to people dying was to kill more people. I really wasn't keen on these old weapons, or on my side using them. I hoped that once this mission and the next one were over we could go back to the normal kind where swords and bows and the occasional trebuchet were as far as weaponry went. it didn't seem likely, though. Genies do not go back in bottles, worms eschew the old familiar can, and you can't make an omelette without spilling milk. Well, I can't.
That night I dreamed I went into the shop and saw the shelves loaded with strange-looking rifles and pistols, each one with its glittering lump of crystal held in a copper claw. In the dream I picked one up and went out into the mall to try it. I lost track of how many people I shot before I managed to wake up, and this was one of those dreams where even when you've been awake for several minutes it still seems real. I had to tell myself quite forcefully that there had never been swords or bows on the shelves, that Zoltan-hound-of-Dracula would never let it happen, that the only people who carried weapons in the game world were soldiers and we didn't cater to them.
But I thought I remembered that one of the people I'd shot had been big and sandy-haired, with a moustache. Though that may have been the sort of involuntary retconning you do when you're trying to remember a dream.
Next day it was cold and clear, with a hint of frost in the air. I got out the bike and rode to work, resolved to put these stupid feelings aside and just get on with things. At least till Thursday.
To my surprise, she was there, looking pale and waiflike in a black overcoat.
"All I was doing was staring at the walls and thinking about him," she said. "I need distracting or I'll never get through this week."
I said okay, or something like that, and handed over my door key. Farewell, brief moment of power. I hardly knew ye. She smiled at me as she took it, and something in me turned over.
No guns on the shelves. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, and Liliana looked at me curiously, but it was too stupid to explain. We went on into the back office, and I switched on the machine.
As we were taking our coats off, Zoltan-hound-of-Dracula came in, and without a word he went up to Liliana and folded her in a huge hug. She stiffened for a moment, and then made herself relax into it, but even I could see there was nothing wrong or inappropriate about it; it was pure compassion, and I wished I had thought of doing it first, or that I thought my compassion could be that pure. At length he released her, patted her arm once or twice, and went on into his office, shooting a glance at me as he passed.
"Wow," Liliana said. "Well. Nice to be made to feel welcome." The tone was almost perfect but not quite.
"Would you like to take the chair?" I said.
"Oh, no thanks, I've got plenty to do. I've been off for two days, remember? I'll be fine. Especially if people don't go out of their way to be nice."
So that was me put in my place. Not that I thought she intended to, I understood what she meant, but it still felt like a slap. She smiled again to soften it and went out into the shop, and I sat down and booted up the game.
Sure enough, there was the herald of the bandits, coming once again for ransom. I shut the door in his silly face, and waited while the timer ticked down. I couldn't actually attack him till he became an enemy. Now that was something I wouldn't mind seeing in the real world. If nobody could attack anyone till they became an enemy, nobody would ever attack anyone. The siege engine workshop was in full production, and yes, I now had the option of "enhanced" catapults. Nothing more sophisticated, thank goodness. I built a couple, and then had to wait for more iron and crystal from the storehouse. My army was at full strength. I was ready.
The first shot from the weapon blasted a hole clear through my stone wall.
Maybe not quite that ready.
I was still under a bit of a cloud. Ridiculous, I know. I'd never met the man Roger, and if it came to it I didn't know Liliana that well either, but I suppose when things happen a certain way it hits you harder. He'd been blown up. Someone had planned and deliberately executed the action that killed him. The sheer lunacy of that...in a world where more people were dying anyway, because of all the damage we'd done, how could anyone think it would help to kill yet more people?
But for me to be moping around about it myself was not only ridiculous but selfish. Unfortunately, knowing that didn't make me feel any better. Funny how that works. I rode the bus home through freezing drizzle. It seemed to be turning cold again. The weather was all over the place now, of course, another side effect. I thought it had been summer only a few days ago. Let's face it, if you had asked me what the date was I would have had to think. They all blur into one another.
And in the game world too, the solution to people dying was to kill more people. I really wasn't keen on these old weapons, or on my side using them. I hoped that once this mission and the next one were over we could go back to the normal kind where swords and bows and the occasional trebuchet were as far as weaponry went. it didn't seem likely, though. Genies do not go back in bottles, worms eschew the old familiar can, and you can't make an omelette without spilling milk. Well, I can't.
That night I dreamed I went into the shop and saw the shelves loaded with strange-looking rifles and pistols, each one with its glittering lump of crystal held in a copper claw. In the dream I picked one up and went out into the mall to try it. I lost track of how many people I shot before I managed to wake up, and this was one of those dreams where even when you've been awake for several minutes it still seems real. I had to tell myself quite forcefully that there had never been swords or bows on the shelves, that Zoltan-hound-of-Dracula would never let it happen, that the only people who carried weapons in the game world were soldiers and we didn't cater to them.
But I thought I remembered that one of the people I'd shot had been big and sandy-haired, with a moustache. Though that may have been the sort of involuntary retconning you do when you're trying to remember a dream.
Next day it was cold and clear, with a hint of frost in the air. I got out the bike and rode to work, resolved to put these stupid feelings aside and just get on with things. At least till Thursday.
To my surprise, she was there, looking pale and waiflike in a black overcoat.
"All I was doing was staring at the walls and thinking about him," she said. "I need distracting or I'll never get through this week."
I said okay, or something like that, and handed over my door key. Farewell, brief moment of power. I hardly knew ye. She smiled at me as she took it, and something in me turned over.
No guns on the shelves. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, and Liliana looked at me curiously, but it was too stupid to explain. We went on into the back office, and I switched on the machine.
As we were taking our coats off, Zoltan-hound-of-Dracula came in, and without a word he went up to Liliana and folded her in a huge hug. She stiffened for a moment, and then made herself relax into it, but even I could see there was nothing wrong or inappropriate about it; it was pure compassion, and I wished I had thought of doing it first, or that I thought my compassion could be that pure. At length he released her, patted her arm once or twice, and went on into his office, shooting a glance at me as he passed.
"Wow," Liliana said. "Well. Nice to be made to feel welcome." The tone was almost perfect but not quite.
"Would you like to take the chair?" I said.
"Oh, no thanks, I've got plenty to do. I've been off for two days, remember? I'll be fine. Especially if people don't go out of their way to be nice."
So that was me put in my place. Not that I thought she intended to, I understood what she meant, but it still felt like a slap. She smiled again to soften it and went out into the shop, and I sat down and booted up the game.
Sure enough, there was the herald of the bandits, coming once again for ransom. I shut the door in his silly face, and waited while the timer ticked down. I couldn't actually attack him till he became an enemy. Now that was something I wouldn't mind seeing in the real world. If nobody could attack anyone till they became an enemy, nobody would ever attack anyone. The siege engine workshop was in full production, and yes, I now had the option of "enhanced" catapults. Nothing more sophisticated, thank goodness. I built a couple, and then had to wait for more iron and crystal from the storehouse. My army was at full strength. I was ready.
The first shot from the weapon blasted a hole clear through my stone wall.
Maybe not quite that ready.