dry and unenthused.
“ Affirmative.
I have intended to interact with their users for many cycles. A
reduction in remote unit activation will free up processing space and
allow me to do so.” It said.
“ I’m
sure the other employees of Trillium will need their shells even
more.” I wouldn’t be taking care of my excessive workload
for a week.
“ Ah.”
The machine replicated a sigh alarmingly well. “How
unfortunate.” It turned around and ambled back into the van.
Great. Both Henry and Hal Pal were concerned about my well-being.
Exactly what kind of impression did everyone have of me? I logged
back in, happily putting thoughts of Hal Pal and Henry out of my
mind.
Session Four -
Choice of Voice
Everything
was as I left it. The white marble pillar sat peacefully with an
obsidian and gilded book upon it, appearing slightly faded. Dust from
shattered fragments had been cleaned up. Inside the cover was my
name. Gone were the card and hand-print from before.
I
turned to the next page. The first few items were all basic settings.
Choosing interface methods such as pop-up displays, colors, and
borders, I played around with them for a while. Finally, I settled on
something out of place enough to be attention grabbing but different
than my alerts in the waking world. After a review of basic settings
the game message box shifted and the book slammed shut without my say
so.
Welcome,
Grant
Use
the Book to choose a Voice
“ Grant!
Skill activate, use book!” I exclaimed to myself.
Nothing
interesting happened. With a long drawn out sigh, I reached out and
flipped to the first page again. The results were completely
unexpected. Instead of seeing something on the page, the scenery
behind the pillar shifted.
An
almost sterilized landscape formed, marble, like the book's pedestal.
A much taller and complete pillar sprouted from the ground. There
were no cracks or ripples of damage like the one I stood next to. On
top of the pillar was a woman. Ankles crossed, in a white flowing
dress. She stared off into the distance and seemingly took no notice
of me or anyone else. An absent wind fluttered through.
“ Never
could stand a woman on a pedestal.” She must have heard me, as
the woman, blonde locks and all, turned and gave me a bare hint of a
glare. Nothing as crass as a sneer. Not enough action to fully
acknowledge my presence, only the edge of a tightening cheek that
made her lip curl. I turned the page again.
This
one wasn’t even remotely similar. There was a woman, sure, but
she had deep red skin and no clothes at all. She sat in the same pose
as the woman from before on a chair. After a moment, she started to
come off her seat with a saucy stride. My heart jumped abruptly and
face reddened. Getting caught staring was a social taboo. The way she
lifted a leg to step down onto the floor was tantalizing. Seductive
half movements. Her hands effortlessly and coyly covering key parts
of her body as she walked, almost dance-like, towards me. Moments
later, after she captivated me, her body started motions that were
dangerously arousing. I flipped the page again.
A
giant, burly man wearing little more than a few strapped on pieces of
armor, raised a giant sword. His muscles were solid enough to be
carved from marble but glistened with sweat and exertion. That weapon
couldn’t have been light. He roared. I turned the page.
Parts
of this were clear. They were asking me to choose between all these
images of people. Most of them seemed to be archetypes of who knows
what. Hah, archetypes in the ARC program. I tried not to chuckle as I
flipped past the next few. These figures were all clearly following a
theme but likely weren’t as simple as looks alone made them
seem.
An
angelic female, a clearly devilish one, the wild warrior, those were
the first few of a whole list. A Japanese schoolgirl passed through
with a wave and pose. I shook my head and tried not to think about
who might pick that one. Next was a librarian.
“ Affirmative.
I have intended to interact with their users for many cycles. A
reduction in remote unit activation will free up processing space and
allow me to do so.” It said.
“ I’m
sure the other employees of Trillium will need their shells even
more.” I wouldn’t be taking care of my excessive workload
for a week.
“ Ah.”
The machine replicated a sigh alarmingly well. “How
unfortunate.” It turned around and ambled back into the van.
Great. Both Henry and Hal Pal were concerned about my well-being.
Exactly what kind of impression did everyone have of me? I logged
back in, happily putting thoughts of Hal Pal and Henry out of my
mind.
Session Four -
Choice of Voice
Everything
was as I left it. The white marble pillar sat peacefully with an
obsidian and gilded book upon it, appearing slightly faded. Dust from
shattered fragments had been cleaned up. Inside the cover was my
name. Gone were the card and hand-print from before.
I
turned to the next page. The first few items were all basic settings.
Choosing interface methods such as pop-up displays, colors, and
borders, I played around with them for a while. Finally, I settled on
something out of place enough to be attention grabbing but different
than my alerts in the waking world. After a review of basic settings
the game message box shifted and the book slammed shut without my say
so.
Welcome,
Grant
Use
the Book to choose a Voice
“ Grant!
Skill activate, use book!” I exclaimed to myself.
Nothing
interesting happened. With a long drawn out sigh, I reached out and
flipped to the first page again. The results were completely
unexpected. Instead of seeing something on the page, the scenery
behind the pillar shifted.
An
almost sterilized landscape formed, marble, like the book's pedestal.
A much taller and complete pillar sprouted from the ground. There
were no cracks or ripples of damage like the one I stood next to. On
top of the pillar was a woman. Ankles crossed, in a white flowing
dress. She stared off into the distance and seemingly took no notice
of me or anyone else. An absent wind fluttered through.
“ Never
could stand a woman on a pedestal.” She must have heard me, as
the woman, blonde locks and all, turned and gave me a bare hint of a
glare. Nothing as crass as a sneer. Not enough action to fully
acknowledge my presence, only the edge of a tightening cheek that
made her lip curl. I turned the page again.
This
one wasn’t even remotely similar. There was a woman, sure, but
she had deep red skin and no clothes at all. She sat in the same pose
as the woman from before on a chair. After a moment, she started to
come off her seat with a saucy stride. My heart jumped abruptly and
face reddened. Getting caught staring was a social taboo. The way she
lifted a leg to step down onto the floor was tantalizing. Seductive
half movements. Her hands effortlessly and coyly covering key parts
of her body as she walked, almost dance-like, towards me. Moments
later, after she captivated me, her body started motions that were
dangerously arousing. I flipped the page again.
A
giant, burly man wearing little more than a few strapped on pieces of
armor, raised a giant sword. His muscles were solid enough to be
carved from marble but glistened with sweat and exertion. That weapon
couldn’t have been light. He roared. I turned the page.
Parts
of this were clear. They were asking me to choose between all these
images of people. Most of them seemed to be archetypes of who knows
what. Hah, archetypes in the ARC program. I tried not to chuckle as I
flipped past the next few. These figures were all clearly following a
theme but likely weren’t as simple as looks alone made them
seem.
An
angelic female, a clearly devilish one, the wild warrior, those were
the first few of a whole list. A Japanese schoolgirl passed through
with a wave and pose. I shook my head and tried not to think about
who might pick that one. Next was a librarian.
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