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⬣//GROWING WILDLY OUT OF CONTROL.
September 23rd—conference day. In the hours preceding the meeting, beta testers are supplied with information on how to access the virtual conference room and offered a set of conduct guidelines. Testers are urged to read them thoroughly and instructed to sign their name on the bottom of the page to confirm that they’ve read and understand the following guidelines:
1. All questions will be addressed. Do not interrupt speakers or other beta testers when they are asking questions or having their questions answered.Players are generously allowed one hour to filter in and find their seats, review the guidelines, and discuss the questions they’ve prepared with their fellow beta testers.
2. Conduct yourself professionally and appropriately. Do not curse, shout, or otherwise engage in disruptive behavior. Violators will be muted and their speaking privileges revoked.
3. No eating or drinking. Keep your virtual space clean and free of debris.
4. Remain seated. Excessive movement or inappropriate behavior will result in restriction of your avatar’s movements.
5. PvP is disabled in the conference room. Weapons cannot be drawn and your Fragment inventory is unavailable during the duration of the conference.
One hour comes and goes. The room remains occupied only by the beta participants, CyberConnect Corporation’s flashy logo spinning idly on the conference room’s 80 inch display. Restlessness begins to settle in, idle chatter turning to frustration as one hour becomes two. Still, no one from the Corporation shows.
The conference room remains devoid of purpose, some forty-odd people sitting alone in a sterile conference room, a locked room, should anyone grow so restless they try to leave. Any attempts made to break doors and windows will fail.
The door is locked, as are the windows, the world beyond their stark white blinds a slurry of purple and black. Thunder crackles in that dark, endless void. Even if you could leave, where would you go?
It’s painfully evident after three hours of silence that no one from CyberConnect is showing up to the conference, but you knew that already, didn’t you? This mandatory meeting was fishy from the start, some would argue, while others may yet hold out hope.
That ends the instant anyone tries to log out and leave. Everyone who attempts to leave will be met with the same error Shoka was some weeks ago, but this time, the error is permanent. This time, there is no connection between mind and body anymore, and any attempt to “reach” your real self will fail.
You feel no one on the other end. You no longer feel the weight of your headset on your head or the keyboard beneath your fingertips. All your worldly aches and pains have drifted away only to find you here in your new reality, every sensation so real that Fragment no longer feels like just a game. Fragment is reality.
Three hours pass from the start of the conference. The boring white walls and rickety office chairs shudder and shake and give way to the Mac Anu everyone knows. You’re back where you started, more or less. What you do from here is up to you.
Some menus remain online. Players retain the ability to send and receive friend and party requests, access their inventories, spells, and weapons, and so on, but a few notable items are missing.
Players can no longer toggle their pain sensors on and off. Every blow you take is one you’re forced to suffer through, and what’s more, your health no longer automatically regenerates when idle. You’d better keep a stash of potions or a pocket healer handy.
While you’re at it, try not to die. The sharp-eyed among the group may notice that the respawn information nestled in the menus is no longer accessible to them. The respawn counter now reads as a series of zeros instead of the typical 20 minutes. Now is probably not the best time to continue testing Fragment’s death mechanics, but nothing’s stopping you from trying. No one’s going to save you, either.
Good luck, players. The real test has begun.
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Michel gives him a reassuring little squeeze and settles Ganymede against his side. It's almost a little disorienting how much this feels like their real-life meeting, without the ability to feel his real-world body now. ]
The group came together before, with Mithrun's incident. We have every reason to think they will again. In any case... you still aren't alone here.
[ He might still be trapped — they're all trapped, but what a heavy thing for Ganymede, particularly. But it isn't like before. ]
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There's a long pause as he considers the words, however, because there is a sticking point in all of this. ]
...Do you think it means we'll escape?
[ Even if they come together, can they actually figure something out? He hasn't reached that sort of thought just yet. There's those cynical feelings stirring up within him for a bit. ]
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[ Maybe the certainty of the answer is a little surprising from Michel's melancholic, pessimistic temperament. But he's not operating on wishful thinking here... although he would absolutely try to lie for Ganymede's sake. ]
They selected the beta testers themselves. Whatever waivers they've had us sign, they would have picked lower-profile participants if they intended to make a group of people vanish permanently.
[ Could they cover things up? Probably. But why would they take a pointless risk? ]
But I see no reason for us to wait for them to let us go, either.
on this episode of I THOUGHT I TAGGED THIS OTL...
The best part is that it's Michel saying it, so he feels surprised, but also...kind of hopeful? Ganymede doesn't quite smile, he's too busy still reeling for that. Though if he were in a better mood, he knows he would've. ]
I guess you're right in that we're all higher-profile participants.
[ He's thinking of this in terms of skill and how smart people are, but that's because it's taking him a bit to catch-up on 'profile' as in 'background'. ]
...No, there isn't. [ ... ] Honestly, I wondered for a moment if there was any hope of them releasing us. If there was anything we could do about all of this.
But, after you said something like that, I don't think I could just sit around and just ...let things be. Though, even if I don't believe I'm strong enough to be running around just yet...I think I'm just grateful you could manage to say this much.
[ It means a lot. ]
PATPATPAT <3
No, I don't think anyone is asking you to...
[ Having Ganymede sit still even briefly is something of a marvel of its own... although it would be nice if it ever happened without Ganymede needing to be distraught first. Without looking over, Michel reaches tentatively for his hand to twine their fingers together. ]
If we're still here by the evening. Would you like to... [ He falters, but then lifts his chin a little in resolve. At least once, he wants to ask Ganymede properly. ] ...have dinner with me?
<3<3<3
Those are the kind of thoughts that still whisper traitorously in his head, in the background of the risen hope that stands in contradiction, yet they seem to all coexist. It only matters which he can give more attention to.
Hearing Michel's voice makes him continue to want to choose to ignore those whispers that at times seem like from someone else. But, it's his voice all the same. All of this is a part of him. ]
...I never thought we'd be having our eating out, candle-lit dinner date here. [ But his expression softens, whispers dying into static as his hand grips tight onto Michel's which has grabbed a hold of his. ] But, I'd still want to. Even now, I...
I want to spend time like that here with you.
[ He wants to continue like he has before. Things are different, but in some ways they are still the same. A shitty corporate company can't change this fact. ]
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But if everything is hopeless, then all the more reason he wants to spend some of that time with Ganymede. Michel bends down to brush a light kiss to the top of Ganymede's hair. ]
Think of it as a practice run. I hope to have so many more candlelit dinners with you.
[ It's as real as they make it, isn't it? And if they have a chance once they're out of here, he promises to himself that he'll take Ganymede to a proper restaurant. ]
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A practice run...
[ Words uttered softly, even as the man leans to press a soft kiss to the top of his hair. Then, he will lean up a bit so he can kiss the order on his lips, briefly.
He doesn't think too hard when he's doing it. ]
...I do too.
What will we have?
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This is better. Already, Ganymede has something new to focus on. Although Michel has to pause a moment as he checks the menu. ]
There's a fish à la meunière... And I doubt the guild will begrudge us some wine.
[ There must be a dessert in this menu, too, because that's hilariously beyond Michel's cooking. But he remembers what Ganymede likes. ]
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He never paid attention to menu stuff in-game before, including their own guild menus?? Ganymede will now, though, because now he's getting hungry from the title
and so am I. Très bien! ]That sounds good. I don't often have French cuisine.
...I think despite it all, I might have a little bit of an appetite.
[ It's definitely a distraction. ]
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I've never made it in real life. But the game cooking system will take care of it.
[ And Ganymede will likely feel a little better after he eats. That's human nature, after all. ]
I should have most of the ingredients. While I'm getting the rest, if you could find something for candles...?
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Oh, that's right. For all of the trouble we're in because of some jerks, at least we've got something convenient about it. It'll still be like you actually made it too.
[ He can be grateful for that, even if there is a little bit of grumbling on his end per usual. Though on the other matter, Ganymede tries to recall if there are candles out in the open he could tell, but he will do his best. ]
I'll be on the lookout. It seems like something that should be around...
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[ "Some jerks" is a fairly heroic understatement about the situation, all things considered. But Michel nods in agreement for the pertinent part. ]
...Whatever you manage will be fine. It's just best if I leave the aesthetics to you.
[ Honestly, he was mostly looking for a diversion for Ganymede's frayed nerves. But it has the silver lining of being entirely true. ]
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[ Some jerks, assholes, and the like...all are fair descriptors to him. ]
Well, I'm not going to say you're wrong.
[ Ganymede's on a mission to find himself some candles, and maybe a table cloth if they have one. The guild seems potentially good enough for that.
He heads off in his search for his candles, assuming when he comes back, the food will be done, or close to it. Game mechanics... ]
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He already has most of the ingredients for what they need, so it is indeed a quick stop at a dungeon for a very low-level fish. All the recipes he knows are more plain than this, so... game cooking it is. When Ganymede comes back, Michel is engrossed in proving his French credentials by browsing Fine Wine's bar for a citrusy white wine he deems acceptable for the cause. ]
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Once he comes back with some background essentials to add, placing them on the table, the blond is curious to see what the other man is up to doing.
Ganymede comes closer, and then reaches out to poke at his back, wondering if Michel might notice him before he does so. ]
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If I'd mistaken you for Fai, I would have felt obligated to throw this at you.
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There is no way stealth was ever an option for Ganymede. Even though he forgets that. Consistently. ]
He probably would've dodged it. Me too, though.
[ He says, hands raising to touch his own nose and blink. ]
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Ideally not right now. Michel gives a tiny smile for that cute expression. ]
Probably. This isn't a ranged class.
[ He steps away again for a corkscrew, busying himself with opening the bottle. A little nostalgic to think back to doing this at the introduction party ages ago... ]
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Ganymede only continues to radiate absolute cuteness x2. ]
Not really, no. But I do prefer that you're the type to get close and personal.
[ Funny how things have radically changed since then, huh? Besides the total disaster minefield part of it due to them being trapped but Ganymede is making an effort to try not to let those cynical thoughts sneak in again. ]
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At least he doesn't drop the bottle. He pours out two glasses and sets it down. ]
And you're the type to try to get a reaction from me... I didn't think you were so much like Fai.
[ But there's a warm happy note in his voice to someone like Ganymede who knows how to listen for it. If it means Ganymede is feeling a little better, he's pleased. ]
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When he hasn't been trying to poke and prod (literally) at Michel in his previous less-than-mature incidents. Forever remember clone Ganymede dungeon run times. ]
Hmm...it looks like I'm already getting a reaction, though?
[ He doesn't even realize his mood has lightened so much before, though. He's watching the other pour the glasses and reminds himself not to sip at it before the food's set. ]
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Despite the clone dungeon, yes. ]I don't know what you're talking about. There's no reaction.
[ He does not perceive any blushing! He puts the glasses down firmly and opens the menu to briskly do the cooking. It's a bit of a magic trick, how a perfectly cooked plate of buttery, lemony fish can materialize out of thin air. ]
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Oh really?
[ Now he's definitely poking at it.
Ganymede is passing along a smile at the other, even if Michel can't see it due to cooking mechanics. ]
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It doesn't count if you keep going until you get one.
[ But it does count if Ganymede's mood has lifted enough for him to smile again. Michel doesn't know quite how he achieved that... but he's relieved ]
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we can just wrap it here methinks