Just a second ago, Samuel was sitting in his spinny chair, waiting for a video to upload on his computer with Elder Tale running on his other monitor. Now, he’s standing in the middle of a bright, grassy area, having to blink to get used to the sudden light.
There’s not going to be a flashback explaining just what happened--he’s not going to suddenly recount pressing some button or feeling a sudden shock-- because there wasn’t anything that occurred in between those two instants at all. Samuel was there, and now he’s here. This is about when panic starts to set in.
“Oh my God..” he mumbles to himself, looking around. There are other people here, too, who all look similarly puzzled, so clearly it’s not just him who was put in this situation.
He reaches out his hand, flexes his fingers a few times. In front of him, a menu screen suddenly pops up. Startled, he jumps back.
Then he recognizes it. This is the menu in Elder Tale. He takes note of its contents: Options, Friends, an unfortunately greyed-out “Log Out” button.. And, in the top left corner, a mini-profile.
Bard-Idol LV. 90
Twain--it feels a little more natural to refer to himself by that, if only because of his YouTube videos and hearing it from his guildmates--isn’t sure why, but his expression shifts to a smile. Maybe it’s the promise of adventure. Maybe it’s that he’s been brought into his favorite game and he doesn’t have to worry about real-world responsibilities anymore. Either way, he wants to explore everything this world has to offer--
A button with a phone icon pops up in the middle of his menu, accompanied by a ringing in his head.
Incoming call from Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald.
Unsure of how to answer, he reaches forward to try and press the button. To his surprise, that actually works. He’ll have to play around a little with the menu.
“Fitzgerald? Shit, you’re here too?”
“So it would seem,” comes the reply, with a slight echo in his head. This definitely feels a lot weirder than talking through a headset. As opposed to Fitzgerald’s voice coming through the speakers on his ears, he’s literally speaking directly into Twain’s mind. Freaky.
“I shoulda known you wouldn’t log off right after that raid, fuckin’ loser!” Twain replies, grinning. It’s nice to know he’s not alone here. Actually, wait, he should check his friends list! Later, though, when Fitzgerald hangs up. “What’s the plan, guild master? We gonna group up and kick ass?”
Fitzgerald’s sigh in his head makes him laugh. “If that’s how you want to put it, yes. Just come to our headquarters.”
“Oooh, so official sounding. Headquarters!”
“Alright, alright, I’m comin’. Seeya!” He hangs up before Fitzgerald can get another word in. It’s not like he doesn’t want to talk--Fitzgerald and Twain are close friends, after all--but he knows very well it’s probably his fault that the guild leader logged on today in the first place.
Twain had practically begged a lot of guild members to come online for a raid, after all. He’d wanted one last big raid before the American launch of the Homesteading the Noosphere expansion changed the game forever. Well, now he figures it’s not like he’ll ever get to play that expansion anyway, but there’s no way he could have predicted something like this.
He’ll have to apologize to the people that are online when he gets there. Or whenever things settle down. But there’s no use worrying about that now; he's got shit to do!