Writing Help? Battle Net VR

[Huey]

Hi,

Can someone read the following story and tell me if it reads weird? I wanted to use present tense through the whole thing, but I suck at it. Fix my grammars please grammars pohlice!

Also, say "Huey the piece was awesome you kick ass!" at the end so I can feel good about myself.

Thanks.

[Huey]

Battle Net VR
by Huey


Jonathan Richards once mentioned that he lives on the ground. I can't remember the last time I've been to the ground. Only the poor and the criminally insane live below the smog, I'm told, and that bit of information took me by surprise. Hardly anyone down there have access to the computer, let alone a VR system. But I believe him because Jonathan wouldn't lie about something like that.

Sitting alone in front of the computer on a Friday night, because the best clubs to hang out no longer exist in the meat world, I open the inbox for new messages. One from my mother checking up on me, a few from Mandy with smileys in the subject lines, some random mails asking me to vote Republican or enlarge various parts or my body, and one from Jonathan with the subject header "Where the hell are you man? Get on BNET Now Gogogo!"

Mouse click on Jonathan. I'm not used to the voice system, it is to me somehow freaky and borderline psychotic to speak to inanimate objects, nor am I used to the new holographic desktop extravaganza, poking fingers at empty air seems to me idiotic and unneccessary.

The mail says, in flashy text:

I AM ON WINNING STREAK where have u been past few days get on NOW I have new map to TEST you better get on TONIGHT before I pass OUT no I have NOT slept the past three days!!1

Oh, here are some punctuations for your consideration ",!!.?,:"

-Jonathan Richards
Master of The Universe

Typical Jonathan mail. Either he likes spreading his real name around on the net or he's a lame kind of guy with a lame sense of humor. I'm leaning toward the latter theory. He's by far the worst spammer on the forum. We've met on the board in a flame war discussing the differences between an anarchist and a libertarian, eventually leading to the decline of Western civilization, religion and humanity, and goats and my mother in suspenders. But beneath Jonathan's exterior amateur posting style, his net etiquette, his enthusiasm to start a flame war at the slightest hint of disagreement, lurks an intelligent and witty guy who doesn't give a damn about anything.

"Go to sleep fool!" I hit the reply button and close the inbox, not in the mood to read after Jonathan's schizophrenic flashy rants. I need a few minutes of contemplation to prepare myself for the virtual reality world of BNet.

Outside a few cars drone by through the chilly night, electric sparks dancing beneath their metal frames. I stand up and lean against the all-glass, double layered windows. The blinking city lights illuminate a faint reflection of a sleepy teenage boy against towers of concrete and steel, stabbing through the sea of clouds below. I'm sorry, not clouds, but smog, pollutants from 2 millenniums of human waste. This is kind of a ritual for me, before logging on to the VR world. I force myself to remember this image of the physical realm as an anchor to pull myself back from the fantasy I'm about to enter. Amidst pixilated virgins and friends you've only chatted with but have not met, it is hard to remember that all around you is fake, a dream, a false reality. I use this time to prepare my mind against the thoughts of never coming back.

It is ironic. The scene before me is so cold and lonely. Not a person in sight. All I see are silent buildings, soundless automobiles, hovering aimlessly in the skies, and never ending neon signs blinking their advertisements, oblivious to everything around them. Why would anyone want to come back to this? It is a grave yard, devoid of personal interactions and the warmth of having someone around. It is so hard to force yourself to come back to this hell hole of a freezer, this city above the clouds.

Having enough philosophical self-inflicting-damages for the day, I turn away from the window and back to the computer. The VR headset lies carelessly on the mouse pad, waiting for me. I pick it up, put it on, and click the BNet icon on my screen.

* * *

Around me the world disappear and streaks of light beam past like a bad sci-fi movie. I let the darkness consume me as I fall into the zone of the VR world. The public chat room rises from beneath my feet and catches me gently, hardly making a whisper. I land on the metallic floor, electronic music gradually fading in until it's blasting sonic waves out the speakers above my ears. A red text message hover at the edge of my vision, letting me know the last time I logged on was December 18th 2014, 3 days ago. Blizzard, the company behind Battle.net and all the games played within, has released the latest patch for Warcraft VR, its download progress indicated by a percentage red bar hovering above the item. Around me the chatroom newbies spew away their mindless chatter and I find myself turning and heading toward a different channel, toward the "Lounge".

Jonathan is there, as though waiting. The first sight of me he let out a scream and throws smiley faces at everyone in the vicinity.

"Lao Xu!" he calls my screen name. It means teacher in my language.

"Jonathan!" I greet back.

"Lao Xu!" he calls again, we do this several times over as is the standard greeting between us.

Jonathan is using the Blood Mage avatar, being an exclusive human player. Three baubles of flame dance around his head as he runs up and flash his idiotic grin. "Where have you been all my life?"

His avatar is animating fluidly, as he is using the advance VR system that hovers above the synapses of his spine. I am an archer of the night elves, with a stiff green cape hugging my back. My avatar moves awkwardly, I am still relying on the delayed motion sensors of the outdated headset system.

"You've been up the past two days? Are you high?" I ask him, sensing hyperactive vibes radiating like underarm stench from his avatar.

"Yeah! I feel great! Don’t need sleep when you're God!"

"Are you even pissing and eating?" I give a disapproving frown. "You know, real life stuff."

"Funny you mentioned that. I don't feel hungry at all! And my bladder is super! Thanks for asking!"

"Doesn't the system kick you off after 12 hours or something?"

He winks, lips forming a mischievous grin, "I am God remember? Come on, enough socializing. Let me show you my new map! Wait one second while I find the file." His avatar dim, entering away-mode.

I glance about the room. Every time I come here I see faces and names I don't recognize. The channel gets more popular everyday, used to be just me and Jonathan and this girl we met named LadyTemptress, hanging out on dull weekends looking for new maps to play. She hardly logs on anymore. "Real life kicking my butt" was the reason she gave in the last email she sent me. I miss that girl.

On the black walls are various advertisements of Blizzard products, a listing of all the people in the channel, and the official ladder rankings of Warcraft players, listing the top 100. I am not on that list.

"HEY!" Jonathan's avatar is once again animated. "Game name is 'RoXor Map Come Play!!!' Meet you there." His avatar disappears. I follow him, the chat room ripple out and back in as if I'm entering a flashback from a corny movie.

The seats are already half full, with a game name like that I'm not surprised. Jonathan as the host sits on the throne, as the other players crowd around a table with the mini preview of the map display in the center. Blizzard designed the game room to make you feel as though you are generals planning a battle. I step into an open spot and wait for the map to finish downloading.

"What kind of map is this?" asks one of the players.

"The fun kind," Jonathan answers.

"This map better roxor like you said, or I'm leaving."

Jonathan flashes a grin, glances at the percentage bar above the player. When it says "99% completed" he flips a switch in front of him and boot the player from the game. "Now he'll never know ha ha!"

"You ass!" I laugh. Jonathan acts nonchalant and closes all the remaining open slots, starting the game. The countdown timer ticks away in red text above the table.

* * *

We are on the back of dragons, slowly descending through white fluffy clouds to the land below. Green majestic hills spread out like dimples on a green canvas. An emerald river wounds its way through the center, ending in a cascading waterfall at the southern tip of the map. I see a gray speck ahead, growing larger as we approach. It is a massive castle, complete with colorful banners dancing merrily in the wind. The dragons land in the cobble courtyard and we dismount hesitantly.

"You got mad terraining skill," I praise Jonathan, standing next to me.

"Thanks! You like?" he says.

"Now what do we do?" ask one of the other players.

"Pick a hero everyone! Hurry!" he yells over the ambient background noise of villagers going about their business. Before us a double line of various heroes stand, awaiting our actions. I choose the hero closest to me, the Blade Master, an orc wielding a machete almost twice his size.

Then from outside the castle walls we hear screaming peasants, and sounds of metal clanging against metal. A series of explosions rupture the air. A second later flaming balls of flame fly by above us. "Here they come!" scream Jonathan hysterically.

In control of the Blade Master, I run up the stairs along the castle wall, computer-controlled archers are firing arrows maddeningly at the ground beyond. In front of the castle masses an army of undead ghouls and two-headed giants. They stretch almost to the horizon. We are in for a long battle.

For the next hour the battle wages. We fight mindlessly defending the castle against the onslaught of fearsome undead creatures. Jonathan's demented imagination never ceases to amaze me. His monsters are designed so effectively gruesome I find myself at times almost running away from sheer terror. Finally the castle is overtaken, as the player-controlled heroes fall to the hordes of the undead. The map definitely needs balancing.

* * *

I meet Jonathan back in the Lounge, mind ablaze from playing his map. I am feeling exhausted and sense my physical body slumping into the leather chair, in the world outside. That is good. At least I am still coherent enough to remember that I do have a physical body waiting for me to unplug itself from the Battle Net. I glance at Jonathan, who is strangely flickering at the edges.

"Awesome map!" I call to him. "Need some balancing though." But he doesn't reply. His avatar appears jerky and almost fading.

"Something is wrong," he says finally. He turns to me and I sense that he is scared, something I've never seen from him before.

"What's going on? Your avatar is acting screwy," I ask.

"I don't know. The hack I wrote is doing some funny stuff," he says. "I try to log off just now to restart the thing, but something weird is happening."

"What do you mean?"

"This is freaky, yo." He jerks. "I can't seem to log off!"

"What?" I am not understanding him. His avatar is definitely fading fast. "What do you mean you can't log off. Just log off."

"I can't. I keep trying and I am still here. What the hell is going on?" He is showing fear now, his avatar twitching and almost shaking.

"Are you being funny? Just log off the thing." I have to hand it to the guy, always making jokes and he is such a good actor.

"I don't feel anything. On the outside I mean. I can't feel my body."

"That's because you've been on for two days straight, you goof!" I yell at him, getting angry. His fear is so convincing I am getting scared as well.

"Seriously, this is freaking me out!" His voice quivers when he says that. "Do me a favor will you? Log off and call my house. Tell my sister to go into my room and unplug the computer."

"Stop screwing around, this isn't funny."

"I am serious! My number is in my profile. Call it! Tell my sister to unplug me."

I sigh. Fine. I need to log off anyways. Playing his map has drained me and I am ready to go to bed. I check the time and it reads 22:00 GMT. "Okay then ... I guess I'll see you tomorrow Jonathan." I pull the phone number from his profile and log off.

* * *

The virtual world pulls away at lightning speed and I jerk back into reality, staring at my computer monitor. The headset hums quietly as I pull it off. I shake my head, getting goose bumps from the coldness of my bedroom. Coming back is always such a drag.

I click on the phone icon on the desktop, activating the video-phone system. A window pops up with the default AT&T loading screen. I enter Jonathan's phone number and wait while it connects.

Unconsciously I reach for the remote and turn the television on, needing some noise in the almost unbearable silence. The forecaster is warning the viewers to stay indoors tomorrow, because the acidity in the clouds is dangerously high.

No one picks up from Jonathan's end. I stop dialing and enter the number again, rechecking to make sure I have it right. This time it connects immediately. A girl's face appears in front of the camera. But I notice something strange, her eyes are red and swollen, as if she has been crying before she picks up.

"Hello? Can I help you?" her voice shakingly greets me. Behind her I see the red and blue flashing of police lights. A man in police uniform moves across the room in the background.

"Um ... sorry if this is a bad time," I smile nervously. "Does Jonathan Richards live there?" I ask.

"Who are you? How do you know Jonathan?"

"I play Warcraft with him on Battle Net. Sorry to bother. Are you his sister?"

"Yes?"

“He asked me to call and tell you to go into his room and check up on him. That's all."

"Is this some kind of joke? Who are you again?" she is alert now. Beyond the camera's edges someone is calling to her.

"I just talked to him. He asked you to go unplug the computer for him. He can't seem to log off or something. I know, it's really weird."

Her eyes widen. Something I said just now is affecting her.
"WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT!? Are you some kind of sicko or something?" suddenly the girl is enraged, screaming at me through the camera. "My brother is dead!"

The hairs on the back of my head stand up. This must be a very elaborate prank from Jonathan. But his sister seems genuinely angry. "That's impossible," I stammer, shock at her rage. "I just spoke with him 5 minutes ago!"

"We found him 2 hours ago! He died in front of the computer, still plugged in. He didn't eat or sleep for 3 days!" his sister is screaming louder. Someone pulls her from the phone.

An elderly man with a gray mustache appears in her place.
"Who are you son? We will need to call you back."

"No need sir," I answer back. "I am sorry I call at a bad time." Then quickly I hang up, disconnecting the phone with a mouse click. Around me the walls seem to spin.

This is definitely not funny. Jonathan is going off my "friend's list". I quickly put on the head set and log back into BNet, to give Jonathan a piece of my mind.

He is not there. I ask around the people in Lounge, and they say he suddenly disappeared a few minutes ago. I wait around for a few more minutes before logging off.

I lie awake the whole night, head reeling from the strangeness of it all.

* * *

A week later Jonathan Richards is on the news. The anchor woman speaks in a matter-of-fact voice that a young man in his early twenties, one Jonathan Richards of Washington D.C. died late Friday night at 1700 GMT, while playing the new virtual reality games. This is the 9th death recently stemming from gamers who forget to eat or sleep while playing. The addictive nature of the VR games is causing some controversy in the government. Some senators are rallying to get these games banned from the market.

I am traumatized. Who was that person I played with on the night of his death? Perhaps it was some sick joker with too much free time on his hand. I lie awake at night and wonder of the possibilities. Could it be that it was really Jonathan that played with me that night? He said he did some funky hacks to bypass the 12 hour per day limit. Strange as it might sound, maybe I was interacting with Jonathan's signals, a remnant of his brain waves. Maybe when you log on, you leave a part of yourself behind in the virtual world. Perhaps the ghost of Jonathan Richards is still wandering the channels of Battle Net, while his physical body is gone from the real world. An immortal electric spark that keeps me up at night.

[Digglu]

My suggestions...apply liberally, or not at all.

...VR system. But, yet...
...the best clubs to hang out at no longer...
...voice system, as it is...
...inanimate objects; nor am I...
...his etiquitte, and his enthusiasm...disagreement lurks an...
...pollutants from 2 millennia of...
...soundless automobiles hovering aimlessly...
...red text message hovers at the edge...
...His avatar dims, entering...
...The channel becomes more popular every day, it used...
...the chat room rippling out and back in, as...
...on the backs of dragons...fluffy white clouds...
...emerald river winds its way...
...A second later, balls of flame fly by...
...castle wall as computer-controlled...
...giants. It stretches almost...
...We fight, mindlessly defending... OR ...We fight mindlessly, defending the...
...designed to be so effectively gruesome...away out of sheer...Finally, the castle is...
...Lounge, my mind...
...exhausted as I sense...
...says. "I tried to log...
...you can't log off? Just log...
...going on?" His fear is showing now, his avatar...
...always making jokes and he is such a good actor...
...On the outside, I mean. I can't...
...so convincing I am start to become scared...
...into BNET, intending to give...
...night, my head...
...time on his hands. I...

Last sentance sounds strange, maybe a better transition into it. The story itself is pretty interesting, though. Present tense sounds fine.

[Huey*]

Hey, thanks Diggy! That was a lot of work wasn't it? Thanks for the pointers.