《Class Systems》Chapter Twelve "Familiar Face"
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You have lost access
to your status due to
insufficient mana
That grey message screen was flashed just barely long enough for Atreus to read half of it. He shot up into a sitting position. The amount of effort he had to use greatly concerned him. Despite feeling the effects of a long night of drinking he didn’t even remember having; his most powerful ability should make moving much easier. He realized he was in a much more comfortable bed than his own.
The sun was blazing down on him from a cracked window. Mangol wasn’t there with him, which scared Atreus as much as it pissed him off. He tried to access his status and failed. No response from the ‘system’ as some people had coined it. That had never happened to him before. He got out of bed and shuffled through dirty clothing, some trash, and a bunched-up rug to peer through the window.
He didn’t entirely understand what he was seeing. He was on the second floor of the apartment, directly across from him was a shabby-looking brick building with a metal staircase and ladder attached to one side. Atreus tried pushing at the window, then realized it was built to slide to one side. He put his head outside in the dry heat and noticed what looked like a road with big metal things rolling along. Some of the weird mechanical wagons seemed pretty appealing to him. The smell outside hit his nose and he recoiled from it and shut the window. The unmistakable smell of piss mixed with what to Atreus reeked like the fumes from a back ally alchemy lab.
Atreus looked around the room and found most of its contents to be trash. A closet with some fresh clothes that were quickly put on. It was easy for him to decide between the choice of what looked like a pair of work pants made with rough material and a silky pair of pajama pants. There wasn’t anything that could provide a substantial amount of protection so he just pulled on the first shirt he saw.
He then spotted a pack of wraps positioned on a small nightstand next to the bed, quickly snatched them, and pulled one out of the paper box. He noticed it was a blue box instead of the usual eggshell white nails readily available in most markets. It had an animal that looked like a lumpy horse on the front and read “C A M E L” in what looked like common text. “Just where the hell am I?” Atreus thought aloud before looking around for a flint. Right next to where the pack was sitting was a little blue thing, a small oval tube with a strange metal cap on it. Arthur pressed the little red button on it and shook it. It took him a good few minutes to realize the little metal wheel was actually a striker. He excitedly lit the wrap before coughing and sputtering for a second. “This tastes disgusting…” He said solemnly, before continuing to smoke the cigarette. He noticed the glitter of a few coins on the bedside stand and shoved them into his loose pockets without a second thought.
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Next to that was a thick-looking folded envelope that Arthur couldn’t really put a name to what it was. He picked it up and it had a weird off-leather feeling, he turned it over and saw a picture of a man in flamboyant red and black combat gear riding a pink unicorn. In the drawing, the guy was holding two metal sticks that had bursts of fire coming out of them, reminding Atreus of a Dwarf cannon, just severely sized down. He opened the envelope and there was a little card with a face that looked suspiciously like his own in a clear slot, he pulled the smooth badge out and examined it closely.
The face on the card was just off enough for him to be certain it wasn’t actually his likeness. He memorized the name on the card. “Arthur Tyson.” He verbalized. Whatever the situation, he was pretty certain that this doppelganger had something to do with it. With the cigarette still hanging from his mouth, he tossed aside the envelope and turned to the door. There happened to be a hanging mirror on the one exit to the room. As he grabbed the door handle he absent-mindedly glanced at his own reflection. Atreus stopped hard as he realized he had a different face. No scars, or burns, and the permanent kink in his leg was now absent. He was the person on the badge, or more accurately was in possession of his body. “Was I actually part demon?” He made himself chuckle with that, which was the only way he kept himself from going completely batshit as he started to realize the implications of his situation. Atreus thought that If he was in this person's body it was more likely that the opposite was true for this ‘Arthur’ asshole.
He hustled out of the room and was immediately met with a scowl from someone chewing with their mouth open. The pale lady with bleached hair put her spoon back into the bowl and swallowed. “Could you not smoke in the apartment, dude?”
Atreus sneered, but made his way to the front door and opened it. He was thankful that no acrid smell met him from this side of the building. He turned around and spat out two questions while holding his cigarette hand outside.
“What does ‘dude’ mean and where are we?” The annoyed look on her face changed to confusion and a slight bit of worry.
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“What do you mean?” He rubbed at his eyes “Location? Got a map maybe? Also, what’s your name?” She looked mad again “Are you fucking with me?” Atreus took another drag off his cigarette “I’m not-” He ground his teeth together as his brain felt like it was vibrating inside his skull. Then intense waves of pain thudded from his head. He tossed his cigarette aside and tried valiantly to stay on his feet. Blood started running from his nose. “Damn dude!” the stranger was up quickly with a paper towel to hand him. Before she got close Atreus folded forward at the waist and hit his head on the threshold, making a loud thud as he crumpled in on himself.
Atreus spent the next few hours fading in and out of consciousness. Sirens, white lights, the feeling of being lifted and moved about. Despite his years of adventuring, he couldn’t take a hold of lucidity. Atreus failed to find the strength he had painstakingly fought for all that time, yet the anger still found him; even as his brain hemorrhaged inside a skull that he had just taken ownership of. Atreus forced his eyes open and they fluttered as he struggled to move a single inch. Everything blurred around him and light-blue figures drifted in and out of his sight. Atreus finally lost consciousness at some point after a tiny pinch was felt in his arms. When he awoke once again everything felt wrong.
Looking up at the simple square pattern in the ceiling; he felt like he was suspended in sap as he attempted to sit up. Atreus did not lack willpower and managed to get into a sitting position. The curtain in his room was closed and only a small amount of light filtered through. Atreus looked over despite the difficulty and noticed the guy sitting next to his new bed. He would have gasped if his body could properly follow the will of his brain. ‘It’s my…brother?’ Atreus formed the thought sluggishly. Atreus attempted to speak to his brother “H…a….ahhh…” Atreus struggled to stay sitting up. He slowly regained the ability to think normally but his body simply didn’t follow his mind’s commands as it should.
The person beside him stirred and woke up, startled as he noticed that Atreus was also up. “Woah man! Lay back down.” He got up and gently laid Atreus back down onto the pillow and he was simply too weak to protest. Atreus grabbed his wrist weakly. “Gareth…” The person looked very concerned as he watched Atreus struggle to speak. “Gareth... I thought .. you died…?” Then the guy just looked confused.
“Where are we…? Did we both die and this is what happens?...” The person that Atreus thought was Gareth fumbled his words a little. “We’re in a hospital. You have severe brain damage, all the doctors said you probably wouldn’t wake up!” Atreus groaned “Doctors?... Just get me a damn healing potion.” Gareth scooted in closer so he was in his personal space. “What did you take?”
Atreus grimaced and turned his head toward the person as his vision swam. “What do you mean Gareth?” The person shook his head in pure exasperation. “What kind of drug did you take to cause brain damage? And why are you calling me ‘Gareth’?” Atreus sighed deeply “Because…” He looked again at ‘Gareth’ and realized it wasn’t really him. The guy had even called Atreus by the wrong name earlier. It was Arthur’s brother.
“Oh…He is still gone…” It was just his damaged head clinging onto hope now that someone who looked exactly like his lost family was standing right there. Atreus clenched every part of his body. “Arthur?” The familiar-looking stranger tried when he noticed him start to shake. Atreus did everything in his limited power to hold the emotion in but failed miserably, his fingers curled like they were claws as he tensed up. Atreus tilted his face down as tears started falling freely. At that very moment the once powerful warrior sobbed hard; crying for only the second time in his whole life.
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Cecily's blade swung, hitting its mark as always. The man's arm fell to the cold grass of the prison with a familiar thud. He let out a blood curdling scream. A warning to the rest. Stay away, the Hunter is here. That's the name they'd given her, the Hunter. After she cut off the man who tried to rape hers masculinity, they stayed away. She'd made it clear anyone who tried to touch her would be hunted and slaughtered. Cecily kneeled down, pushing the man's face into the dirt so she could use his back as a seat while she trifled through his belongings. "You're hurting my ears," she told him, no remorse in her voice. "Quiet down before I really do kill you."The man but his lip, well aware that she wasn't lying. Sobs shook him, making for an uncomfortable seat. She, however, didn't particularly feel the beed to kill him. It happened, not often, but it did. "Oh, hush up," she hissed, taking out a bag of rations with her metal hand, "it doesn't hurt that bad."With her good, human hand, she dropped the plastic bag of food into her own bag. She pushed up, off the man back. As she was about to walk away, bag slung over her shoulder, brushing against her autumn colored braid, she turned back to him. "Consider yourself lucky," she said, no hatred in her voice, there never was. "Consider yourself lucky that you didn't do anything stupid. And even luckier if one of the scum bagged criminals in here feel a little light in their hearts and help you. Consider yourself luckier if you die there."With that, her old black and white Nike sneakers carried her off into the brush of the huge prison.
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