Wail

DemonRose

Hey Hey!

This story is based on the world I created in Lost in Feronia. And yes, that series got somewhat abandoned (like all of my series seem to :( ). Truth is, I've tried continuing it along with my other stories but I just could get any traction with them anymore. Since I last posted Lost in Feronia, I started a whole bunch of but I dried up on ideas after the first chapter or two, so I never started posting them. With this one, I feel like I can keep it going for a while, so I'm making it available. Will I abandon it as well? Time will tell (you've been warned).

Wail exists in the same game world, but in a different region of Feronia. Most of the world-building is the same, although I've added a few more playable species. Katie is still here running things in her own special way, but she has a different group of players to torture. The story picks up roughly at the same time as the start of Lost in Feronia.

If you haven't read Lost in Feronia, the spoiler after this note will give you a bit of background to make some of the initial concepts understandable. There are also some glossaries on that other story explaining some game mechanics.

Lastly, I'm going to hold off on the smut for a while with this one. I know some of you will only be here because of that tag, but the usual problem with my stories is that things get too smutty too fast and the plot goes off the rails. So, I'm trying to rein it in a bit this time, but it will be getting smutty eventually. So, if that's something you don't enjoy, this story is probably not for you.

Despite it being called an orientation film, it does very little to prepare me for what's to come. It spends half its time trying to sell us on a service we've already paid for and the other half telling us that nothing will go wrong. But if something should go wrong, the waiver we signed means we can't sue. Sure, the film goes into some detail on the game pods and the technology involved in immersing us in our chosen game world. But it isn't anything I haven't heard before in reviews and gamer blogs. And to be honest, I really don't believe the claim that "everything feels exactly like reality" no matter how often they repeat it. There's simply no way pixels and digitized sounds can completely mimic the vast details of real life.

The film is only twenty minutes but feels like it goes on for hours. It doesn't help that I'm already late. 

I overslept and missed the meeting time my friends had set. They will be logged-in by now. It's going to be a miracle if I ever catch up with their party. And if I do, they'll probably be level one-hundred or something, and I'll still be learning the controls. (I check the time on my phone for the thousandth time.) I'm only doing this dumb virtual game to hang out with them.

To hang out with Emma, really.

This was my chance to finally get noticed by her. But I've probably already blown it along with nearly my entire savings. I can't believe how expensive these games are. Even with my Groupon, it was $2994 for the three days. Although they say it will seem like three months. I hope they mean in time perception and not because of boredom (like with this film).

When the lights come back on in the small theater, I bolt and run ahead of the other four customers. Not that it ends up getting me in a pod any sooner.

Jack (as his name tag reads) stands in the pod bay waiting for all of us to emerge. He has on the blue polo and tan khakis that all RoboDyne workers have. In his hand, he holds a tablet in the same officious stance of a gym teacher with a clipboard.

"Okay," Jack says, looking at the tablet. "Up first, Aaron Clark. Is there an Aaron Clark here?" He only asks the question because he couldn't be bothered to look up and see the guy walking toward him. He directs this Aaron (who's pretty old for games being about thirty) to another blue and tan worker-drone that will set him up in the pod.

Next, is a girl named Kim, then a guy named Rami, followed by a clearly stoned Ken, and finally, me. Last. Seems like the story of my life.

Jack takes me over to my pod himself.

In the film and every picture you see, the pods are always these pristine egg-shaped vessels made out of white plastic. But this one is scuffed up as though it's constantly being moved around and has been dropped a few times. The small Plexiglas window that shows the user's face is scratched from wear too. When he opens it, I can see the vinyl seat is torn and beige foam erupts from a seam. I almost consider asking for one in better condition, but a glance around tells me they're all like this. I guess this is what you get going to a game center in a suburban mall and not one of those fancy stand-alone centers.

It's hard to get into it the thing. The chair sits almost on the ground and is leaning back nearly in a bed position. With my height, I feel clumsy and awkward lowering myself down on it. My feet and ankles hang over the edge and I wonder if I'll have to scoot them up to get the pod closed.

Jack works with bored efficiency, hooking up all the connectors from the bio-suit I'm wearing to the life-support machines. He slips the neural-net over my head, and asks, "Ready?" He doesn't wait for a response, just says, "Next stop, Feronia." And in the next second, I'm shut inside this dark coffin. The only light is from the tiny window, but with its tinting and scratches, the brightness of the game center turns to twilight. I feel a twinge of claustrophobia and panic, but then I'm floating in a endless black void.

At best, it's a very minor improvement from being in a coffin.

An announcement is displayed, accompanied by a crisp woman's voice.

I briefly wonder about an AI called "Katie" (aren't they usually called something more commanding like Azreal or Ephraimites or something?). The announcement vanishes and is replaced with a menu.

Okay, strange. It must be a display glitch. I select "Male."

I select "Yes."

Ummm. I almost click the second option, but then read it more carefully. 

Why is it trying to force me toward female? Have most players chosen male and is this is the game's way of compensating?

After a bit of deliberation, I select the option that calls me stupid.

The menu that comes up is nearly completely unrecognizable from what I've seen online. And I begin to wonder if I'm in the right game.

Where are the elves and dwarfs and other species that were advertised?

I had a whole plan of doing an Elvin archer like Legolas or perhaps a Worgman. I liked the idea of being a half-man half-wolf warrior with natural weapons and a spry, agile body. Both these options were on the smaller side, which appealed to me. Being 6'5" and over 200 pounds, I always feel like a lumbering giant around everyone. I really wanted to get the chance to play a character with a bit more finesse.

But other than Human and Gnome, I don't have a clue what these are. Fairy Folk is somewhat clear, but there's a sub-menu with a half-dozen choices to pick from which confuses things. 

I can ask for descriptions of each choice, but I need to get logged-in and meet my friends. I don't have time to read through all these options.

I ask: "What's the Special Bonus Species?"

I like the sound of the special skills and powers and I really just want to get this game started, so say, "Sure."

Suddenly in the void, a girl stands in front of me. She's shockingly naked with every inch of skin exposed and every body part atomically correct. Her skin is gleaming white like cream lit with an inner glow. Her hair jet black, done in two long braids that reach down to her waist. Pale, almost colorless eyes stare out of a round attractive face with a high forehead, and blood-red lips pout like a tiny rosebud. She has an hourglass figure with wide hips and generous breasts. Her nipples are tiny and of the lightest pink. She seems empty of emotion and intelligence and rotates in a slow circle.

"What's this?"

"But it's a girl. I selected male. May-El!" I try to make clear.