《Bitter》Bitter 23
Advertisement
Britta felt an uncomfortable strain in her lower regions. She didn’t have a stomach or intestines here, but the body back home in the pod did. She needed a bio break.
Now that she knew how to log out, it was a simple matter to leave the game. What she still didn’t know was where she would come back to. Where she was standing now in the alley? In the Church of Roha? It would be best to figure these things out sooner rather than later.
She hit the Exit button on the status screen and woke up in the pod. She pushed the lid up and was back in her darkened living room. It felt strange to be in her own body again. She carefully stepped out of the pod, ready for the vertigo. It came but wasn’t as bad as before. It passed after a few seconds.
She stumbled through the darkness and turned on the light. The real world was a little mundane after dragons and alley fights. The colours felt muted and dull. She went to the bathroom first, then to the kitchen to make herself some toast and a cup of tea. It was after 2 AM, much later than she had expected. She hadn’t had anything for dinner and the hunger was real. Six slices of toast later she was ready to return.
In fact, all Britta had done while eating was plan her next move in New World. Toast was hardly a proper meal but it was quick to make, quick to eat. There was a sense of urgency to get back. Games were addictive, but it had been a while since one had really hooked her. It was quite exciting.
It felt familiar and comfortable as she slid back into position in the pod. The darkness as the lid closed was no longer scary and suffocating, it was welcome.
She opened her eyes to familiar walls. She was in the church again, in the same small room or one very similar. The dagger was still in the rope-belt around her waist where she’d left it.
Advertisement
Equipment and items didn’t get lost the way they did when you died. That was good. It was probably obvious but Britta didn’t want to take anything for granted. Game designers were apt to overlook very basic things even after months of testing.
Sister Florence didn’t come bursting in this time. Britta opened the door and poked her head out. The interior of the temple looked the same, just as empty as last time. If this was her restore point, would it change when she moved around the world? Once she had more than one, would she be able to choose where she revived?
She closed the door and sat down on the hard stone slab that served as a bed. It would be a good idea, she decided, to make a thorough inspection of the controls and buttons in her status screen, and doing it here would be safer than outside.
Her approach was simple: find every menu, press every button. If she did something stupid and managed to accidentally kill herself at least she would return here and her dagger would be where she died, assuming one of the nuns didn’t nick it.
Britta went through the status screen with the intent of seeing all the options and it was a very different experience compared to when she was rushing through it as quickly as possible. She found loads of drop down menus and buttons and sliders.
There was a setting for colour that moved all the way down to zero. Everything around her went black and white. The other end of the slider, it went garish technicolour. No wonder the real world had seemed lacklustre, you could actually make the world a more colourful place here. She returned it to a setting that was realistic, with a touch extra.
Audio was also changeable. She changed the settings and clapped her hands to get a sense of how much of a difference there was. At the highest setting it was like a crack of thunder.
Advertisement
Alongside that there was the option to play music. Britta assumed only she would be able to hear it, but the idea of walking around with your own personal theme playing would no doubt be very appealing to certain people. Mainly boys.
All that stuff was vaguely interesting, but not really helpful when it came to playing the game. What was far more useful was the page that allowed you to customise your status screen and HUD.
You could actually change what you saw as you walked around. She already knew you could have the map in the top corner of your vision, but she could have her health and mana displayed, too. That way, she would know when she was about to die and when she had used up her magic. There was also a clock she could put up showing the time in the real world. It made the immersion a little less, having readouts in front of you like some kind of android, but it would make not dying a lot easier.
The other page she found particularly useful was the spellcasting options. Here, she could change what words to use when casting spells and even forego words altogether and use gestures. Perfect. Rather than having to shout embarrassing words she could just point or something.
There was a warning to not choose words or gestures that might be made accidentally, which made sense. You wouldn’t want to shoot off a fireball in the middle of a conversation because you clapped your hands together.
For her blinding light that only worked half the time she chose a finger-gun with a thumb-cocking motion. She had a vague hope pointing it away from herself would make it less likely to go off in her own face. She had to press a button and then make the gesture within three seconds. Then a computer graphic of a hand repeated the gesture and asked her to okay it.
Mirror was closing one fist with the thumb inside and then touching the object to be copied. Fireball was throwing out her hand like she was casting a fishing line.
Now that she had all these new moves, it was time to try them out. Here, in an empty room, seemed the best place, and the safest place. First, she tried the Glamor spell. She pointed her finger and cocked her thumb. Nothing happened.
She did it over and over, and the fifth time it went off. There was a bright flash and some blinking on her part, but she wasn’t blind. On her display, her mana had gone down slightly. She did it a couple more times to make sure she’d got it. The trick was to keep her hand very still and do it quick.
For Mirror, she made a copy of herself who appeared sitting beside her. She hadn’t paid attention to how long the apparition had lasted on the previous occasion; after the guards had turned up her focus had been on them and when she looked again the copy was gone. This time she would time it to make sure.
Mirror took a larger chunk of her mana, but she still had more than half left. Last of all was the fireball. She felt a bit apprehensive using it indoors, but it was only an illusion, not the real thing. The walls wouldn’t burst into flames, she hoped.
She made the fishing rod move and a flaming red beach ball flew from her hand making a roaring sound. The door to the room opened and Sister Florence screamed.
Advertisement
- In Serial22 Chapters
S̶a̶m̶u̶r̶a̶i̶
I post at least once a week. I cannot promise you a story you enjoy reading, but I can promise you a story I enjoy writing. Thank you. ------------------------------------------ The sword is greater than a simple weapon; an answer to life's questions. An extension of thine master's hand, guided by wrist. Care it not whether guilty or innocent blood shed, for be it a mere edge, a weapon. For blade that forgets or refuses to cut be shameful, meaningless, disgraceful. Nay, be it considered a tool at all? What dost the weapon do when the steel hath no guide, that the master hath mingled far? Doth it Stay? Perhaps quiver at possibility, the loss of reason for existence? Or does it go forth into the unknown, guided by merely the wind and the edge? A wandering sword, a phantom blade- A lone Samurai. ------------------------ Credit to Nicklas Gustaffson for the image. Also, this is old, but this was a [Participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 189 - In Serial13 Chapters
WorldWalker: The boy who could see between worlds.
A pleasant melody summons a young, poor boy into the forest at night. There he meets with a mythical girl that should have not been real. Who was she? What was she? And what connection does this being have with Steven's dreams? The dreams that summon him into another world entirely, surrounded by red eyed monsters with iron teeth. The dreams in which he is no longer himself and instead a being of great power and aptitude. The dreams that give him power to see between worlds. What does this all mean? And what will happen to the young Steven?
8 118 - In Serial13 Chapters
Marchlands
Kyra is the Hero, chosen to protect the border between our world and the fantasy world of the Marchlands. Ewan is the Squire, fallen between worlds and pledged to help her. June is the Guide, here to mentor but haunted by the past. Meilin is the Witch, a Marchlander wondering very much how she managed to get wrapped up in hunting monsters and saving the world. *** New chapters every Wednesday and Friday.
8 174 - In Serial27 Chapters
Righteous Fox Immortal (Postponed until further notice)
After a stroke of bad luck, Haiyang reincarnates into the body of a fox. After reincarnating Haiyang's luck takes a turn for the best and finds out he is in a world of qi, demon beast, and cultivators he meets an unnamed immortal who changes his fate. Then After seeing the world for what it truly was, sets off on a journey to change this world or die trying. *********************** I've given up on this one until I get my act together and rewrite this thing.
8 218 - In Serial24 Chapters
Monster (a Sanderssides human AU)
****I decided "Am I really though" ended two ways but I didn't want to leave it at a happy ending even though I also wrote an angsty ending so here is a continuation! Read "am I really though" first in order to understand this story!****Remus escaped and he is not happy.❗️this has not been edited and there are a lot of plot holes in this series so if yah notice something feel free to comment about it so I can possibly fix when I finally go about doing so! It's a mess of a series so just good luck❗️
8 223 - In Serial28 Chapters
Words I Left Unsaid
"Like a treasure map in a bottle, We were slowly drifting apart, Mother Nature sailing our purpose out to sea, The more I got to know you, I realised how much of a hoax your devotion was, Almost as fake as the smile I paint across my shattered face."This collection of poetry releases trauma in the form of expression - mainly the words I could never build up the courage to say. Most of these poems present conflict of the mind and allude to mental health struggles, which may be relatable to a certain community of people.Ranks -#3 in poem#3 in poembook#8 in poetry collection #7 in sadpoems#6 in poemcollection #7 in wisdom #15 in poetic
8 89

