Chapter 12: Manifesto, Ahoy!
“ERP, or Erotic Role Play –Should it Stay or Should It Go?”—Posted on the blog of Girl Geek.
If it stays, there will be trouble…
Oh never mind, this blog post won’t be quoting moldy old songs from the 80s today.
Instead, I’d like to talk about the darndest thing I encountered in Town Square on Dragon Epoch. A—ahem—professional erotic role-player.
Yes, you read that right. A professional who engages in erotic role-play.
That’s right—she’ll please your avatar for the right amount of virtual gold. She’ll type dirty things to you in chat if you pay her for her time.
The oldest profession has found a place in Dragon Epoch. Is this type of behavior against the game’s Terms of Service? You know, that screed that scrolls across your screen and you click “I accept” every time there’s a change to it—but you never actually read it? We all know you just lie and say you did.
Well, I took one for the team and actually read it, so you don’t have to. Draco’s Terms of Service do not explicitly forbid naughty role-play, but they do, of course, dictate the appropriate use of game resources, particularly when minors are present. Because there are a lot of peeps under 18 playing this game—and boy, are most of them a pain in the ass—the age of the person behind the avatar is definitely something to keep in consideration.
Personally, I think that as long as the participants are consenting adults and they take pains to verify that fact to each other—both the ages and the status of consent—who am I to oppose what goes on in private chat?
Prostitution is illegal in many countries. Should its equivalent be made illegal in Yondareth? I think there’s a healthy discussion begging to be had for either side of this argument. Chime in and share your opinion in the comments.
***
Brian and Heath broke up. Just like that. No warning.
Well, besides the fact that they had a crappy relationship, there was no big fight or eruption that caused it to happen.
One weekend Heath drove up to Anza with me to help my mom with some maintenance issues at the ranch, and when he got back, his condo was cleaned out. That little turd Brian didn’t even leave a note. Just took his shit—and then some—and left like the cowardly child he was.
And Heath was devastated.
Cue Mia with her broom and dustpan to swoop in and clean up the shattered pieces. I always did suck at housework.
I told him to pack his laptop, some clothes and bring his sleeping bag over to my place so we could camp out. I couldn’t keep a good eye on him where he was. When he hesitated, I insisted. Actually, I drove over there and packed his bag myself.
With slumped shoulders, he resigned himself to his fate. He was going to stay under my watchful eye until I was satisfied that he’d be okay.
We spent a lot of that week gaming, in between my classes, shifts at the job and studying for finals. Only a few more weeks, and I’d be on my last semester of school with no classes. I still had to face that unanswered question of what to do about medical school, though.
Babysitting Heath’s broken heart served as an excellent distraction from my own problems.
“Guess what I read on the Dragon Epoch forums this morning?” he asked toward the end of that week.
“Were you trolling forums instead of getting your work done?”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “They’re my most understanding and patient client. They’ll wait. A little while, at least.”
I took a deep breath and raised my brows but didn’t reply. He seemed to be in much better spirits today, and I didn’t want to say anything to ruin it.
“So you didn’t guess…and you probably won’t, so I’m just going to tell you.”
I nodded. “Please do.”
“There was a mysterious post on the forums this morning providing inside info that a ‘secret quest’ is being implemented in the game.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending. “A secret quest? What do you mean?”
“Well, no one really knows. Just that we’re supposed to be talking to all the NPCs, and there’s going to be a storyline involving the Princess Alloreah’ala—or however you pronounce it. Some kind of mystery to solve that will involve finding clues.”
Something about this new intel struck a chord. I frowned, remembering a conversation I’d had with my gaming group months ago…
I’d love it if there was a secret quest…Like something hidden in the game underneath the obvious quests. Maybe we’d have to look for clues or speak to NPCs in order to get a hint that leads us on secret quest chains.
What Heath just described to me sounded exactly like what I’d been talking about!
How weird.
They’d taken a suggestion of mind after all...
Or maybe he had suggested it?
Or maybe he did work there after all. Or knew someone who did—the same person who gave him all the inside info, like that secret, impossible-to-find place he took me to.
When I really thought about it, I was just happy to see my idea become a reality—or at least a virtual reality. It didn’t really matter how it got there.
The possibilities were exciting! I couldn’t wait to see what the game had done with the idea, if in fact it was more than just a rumor.
I scoured the boards after that, looking for any information I could find about the quest, listening for any rumblings that it was more than just a rumor. It could be virtual reality, or it could be just a publicity stunt. I wasn’t going to blog about it until I knew for sure.
Unfortunately, FallenOne was scarcely online over the next few weeks, so pumping him for info was not an option. But he couldn’t stay away forever!
***
Due to my now near-empty bank account and lack of financial cushion, I requested—and was duly granted—more hours at the hospital. Good.
Though sometimes the grunt work annoyed me, the fatter paychecks would help offset what I’d paid out for Mom’s bills. Unlike my undergraduate program, I’d likely be unable to finance medical school with academic scholarships.
And there was still the question of Mom’s mortgage…all those late notices troubled me. I had no idea how long they would continue, or how Mom would be able to scrape up the money to cover what she owed.
Therefore, the increase in hours was a good thing. It also meant more responsibilities at the hospital, as well as a good taste of what working in the medical field would actually be like.
It was interesting and tedious, long and exhilarating. I promised myself that I’d remember these experiences for when—if I actually made it that far—I become a doctor. Though a nurse’s assistant’s tasks were necessary and vital to the workings of a hospital, they were thoroughly exhausting. And frustrating. As a doctor, I’d try my hardest to have empathy and gratitude for those who worked in often thankless jobs.
“I’m here to get my bloodwork done, like the doctor requested,” said an elderly female patient who was sitting at my station when I arrived for a shift one morning.
“Okay, ma’am,” I replied. “Can you tell me which doctor requested it?”
She looked at me like I’d just jabbed her in the ribs, her eyes widening. “Oh, I don’t know deary. He was tall. And thin.”
A tall, thin man. I wasn’t familiar with most of the doctors who worked in this department, but that description fit about half of the ones I did know.
“Er, and what type of bloodwork?”
She stared at me blankly. I waited. And waited. When no answer to my question was forthcoming, I readjusted my tablet against my hip. “What is your name, ma’am?”
“Johnson,” she replied. “Elizabeth Johnson.”
Oh well, shit. Could she have a more common name?
I typed her name into the system. Four Elizabeth Johnsons appeared. However, I still had the means to discern which one I wanted.
“What’s your date of birth, ma’am?”
“That’s kind of a rude question to ask, isn’t it?” Her aged forehead crinkled. “Of a lady my age.”
It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes. “Uh. I need to be able to find you in the system.”
She glared at me suspiciously. “Hmm. Well. I was born on June 13th.”
“Year?”
Her brows went up. “Isn’t that enough to go on?”
I glanced down at the four Elizabeth Johnsons. Not one of them had the birthday June 13th.
“Uhh. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
Underneath her thick makeup, she flushed beet red. “Well, of course! I’m not senile.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to imply that. But…you’re not showing up in my system under Elizabeth Johnson, and in order to find you by your birthdate, I need the year, too.”
This went on for ten minutes before I finally convinced her to give me her “real” birth year, not the one—five years later—that she gave out in her social circle. Come to find out, she was listed under her second husband’s last name.
Oh brother.
Once I located the right account, I saw that she had seven different doctors—and no order for blood labs. I knew this because I had to call each and every one of their offices to ask.
Oh God, spare me from the madness!
Returning home one night after a particularly trying time in the ER with a drunken man who vomited everywhere in between calling me every name in the book, I took the hottest shower imaginable. Of course, at my house, that only lasted all of three minutes because of my hot water situation. But in that brief time, I sobbed harder than I had in years. I just had to let it out.
Then I logged on.
And though I was primarily there to blow off steam, I had to admit I was a little dismayed that no one from my friends list was online. I checked. FallenOne hadn’t been on in over a week! My heart sank a little…
I’d really been looking forward to chatting with him, but there had been no text messages, either. I picked up my cell phone and then thought better of it when I realized what time it was on the East Coast.
I made a mental note to text him in the morning and see how he was doing…
Turns out, I didn’t have to. Twenty-five minutes later, Fallen’s private message magically flashed on my screen. I tried not to examine too closely that little thrill that ran through me when I saw that it was him.
*FallenOne tells you, Hey. How’s the job going? They are working you a lot more than usual.
*You tell FallenOne: Meh. I’m tired all the time.
Him: What’s with the increase in hours?
Me: Just money hungry, I guess…
I’d decided not to get too specific about our money troubles—with anyone. I hadn’t even spilled the beans to Heath, yet. Maybe I would eventually. But I had to figure things out first. Ultimately, the answer to my financial problems wasn’t going to be this job. I’d crunched the numbers, and though I’d be able to live on my paychecks and the blog revenue, there wasn’t going to be much of anything to replenish my savings.
Tears started welling in my eyes, and I ordered myself to stop that nonsense. I’d only allowed myself that brief collapse of emotion in the shower.
Me: Feeling a bit down tonight.
Him: I’m sorry. Can I do anything to cheer you up?
Me: I dunno…can you? Got any dirt on that secret quest everyone’s talking about?
Him: I’m afraid not. But how about mass pixel murder?
Me: Tempting…but no…
Him: I’m sorry. Want to talk it out?
Me: I’m not sure I even have the energy for that. You ever have those times in your life where things just don’t go the way you expected?
Him: Is this about the test again? Are you torturing yourself about that?
Me: It’s not just about the test.
Him: You should just take it again, you know. Take it and take it and take it again. Failure is just a way of learning. And with each attempt at the test, you learn more and you’ll do better.
Me: I’m feeling like too much of a failure to even consider it. But really, it’s more than just that damn test. It’s only a fraction of my worries…
Him: I’m here for you. I’m your friend. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.
Me: I will. I promise. I know I just logged on, but I’m actually really exhausted. I think I’m just going to crash.
Him: Okay. But check in with me tomorrow, please? I don’t want to have to worry about you all day.
Me: Okay. I promise :)
Him: Sleep well.
Me: Bye.
I was drifting off before my head hit the pillow, but my mind was racing even as slumber took me. Strangely, the last thing I thought of was that weird scene in DE where the female elf in her shiny lingerie armor stood on the platform in the town square, auctioning herself off to the highest bidder.
If only it was that easy in real life…
I woke up with the idea fully formed in my brain, ready to be realized. I ran to my computer, opened the word processing program and began to type furiously.
Oh, this was a wild idea. An insane idea. I could never carry this out. I would never carry this out. But it was so insane, and I couldn’t not write it down. It was just spitballing…right?
Right. And so I typed as fast as my fingers would allow me.
I will shock most of you, I think, by stating that at the nearly unthinkable age of twenty-two, I still possess an intact hymen. No, I won’t answer any questions about why this is. Yes, I am heterosexual. NO, I won’t go out on a date with you…
And on I typed, not even knowing if or when I’d show this to another soul. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.