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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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
If I'd mistaken you for Fai, I would have felt obligated to throw this at you.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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... ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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 ]
no subject
Not even a little?
[ Maybe it's Michel's magic? ]
no subject
You're going to decide it does no matter what I say, aren't you?
we can just wrap it here methinks
[ Ganymede says without an ounce of shame, but...Ganymede is going to start going to eat the fish himself, finished speaking, and now content to enjoy the meal.
Today wasn't exactly the best of days, but tomorrow is another one, isn't it?
And, with someone like Michel, who he cherishes, who he loves, as well as can lift his spirits just like this...Ganymede thinks he can have enough strength to continue trying. ]