*been a while, hope yall are alive and actually living, not just breathing. I finally wrote something - and I did it a couple of beers deep, so don't judge it too harshly :))). Anyway, have fun. Peace out and Deus vult*
Time did go by, perhaps faster than Mark could keep track of. It seemed like the days blended together somehow, with his training switching swiftly into time spent with the others doing the normal silly things. It was either coffee with Himeko, where he'd try to ask about whatever topic she was interested in at the moment—and there were plenty of those, to the point Mark's mind expanded quite a bit past his former boundaries of knowledge—or maybe some time spent discussing with Welt, going over silly series and stories together.
Still, it was the shenanigans done with the others that somehow had more flavor to them in a rather childish way. March and Stelle did love to go out playing, be it with actual games, shopping sprees that only stretched from one snack to another, or visiting old friends and spending some time on their heads. Mark tagged along, mostly from a lack of better things to do. It wasn't like anything worthy of note did happen, and his mind was far from settling into the mundane. It had a singular goal in mind: the game.
'That stupid game,' he kept muttering over and over as the days went by, like he couldn't wait for it to just go online and see how it would do. Finally, however, the day did arrive, finding him in the Astral Express, glued to the soft cushioning of the couch, phone held tight in sweaty palms. All around, curious eyes peered over his shoulder, from the sides, trying to catch a glimpse at his screen like they didn't have their own phones to watch from.
"Come on now," muttered Mark, lips pressed tightly together as he tried to keep it together, praying for a good game release. He wasn't much for stress before events happened, but the closer they got, the worse he felt.
"It will be fine, Mark," reassured March, keeping her smile on even as her gaze was staring right at the screen. "After your little appearance as a celebrity, I think you'll do just fine."
"At least he should. I didn't expect you to actually work with the IPC on this one," said Stelle, counting as the numbers went down on Mark's phone, reaching the final ten seconds.
"Now, now, let's just wait and see how it goes. It's a milestone for Mark, and for us as his friends. Let's support him, like good friends should."
Welt's words were firm and calming in their own right. He wasn't alone, that was for sure. It wasn't even his idea in full, the game and all, but he did invest a pretty great deal into it, and seeing the thing flop would kill his motivation.
"Now," said Dan Heng, seeing the countdown finally reach zero. The game released, and Mark stared at the sales graph. It showed nothing.
With a trembling finger, he refreshed the page. It loaded, and loaded, and loaded some more like a slow piece of machinery that couldn't perform basic tasks without wasting away a lifetime.
"Why isn't it loading?" asked Himeko, peering over from his side, her hair tickling Mark on the cheek. He shrugged, unsure of it either, until a notification appeared on his screen, a message from a familiar hacker.
"THE WEBSITE DOESN'T HOLD! THE TRAFFIC IS FAR MORE THAN EXPECTED! YOU BETTER PREPARE SOME FORM OF EXTRA PAYMENT AS I TRY TO BRING IT BACK ONLINE!"
The breath that left his mouth was still in the air, a lifeless sound. Finally, after a tense minute of silence, the page did load.
"I guess Silver Wolf sure is quick," noted March, her soft chuckle a bit of lighthearted energy for the moment. It didn't do much, sadly.
"Let's see the graph, come on," muttered Mark, scrolling down, and there it was.
"Uhm," muttered Stelle, scratching at the side of her head. "Is it working?"
Mark blinked rapidly, zooming in. The curve was steep, a single sharp angle that shot for the sky. Never would he have expected that kind of reaction, yet there it was. One streak on the dark background, cutting away his stress with the ease of a heated knife meeting butter.
Welt was silent by his side, and Himeko didn't seem to fare any better for the moment. Dan Heng's eyes were a touch wider than Mark had ever seen, leaving March and Stelle both in a confused state, like the numbers didn't make much sense—they barely did for Mark as well.
"That must be good, right?" asked March, smiling playfully. Mark said nothing, his lips moving silently as he mumbled things under his breath, a bunch of nonsense strung together on a whim. Dan Heng found it within himself to speak, staring at the tiny screen.
"Mark, please refresh it again."
Doing as told, the page loaded one more time. One more stretched second that went into infinity, like the whole concept of time had been tossed out into the vacuum of space, left to rot with countless dreams and memories.
The graph was the same, if not reaching higher now—far too high.
"I knew the IPC had quite a number of viewers, but this is..." mumbled Mark, shaking his head.
"I assume celebrations are in order?"
The question came from none other than Black Swan, a bottle of champagne in hand that she had fetched from who knew where.
"That seems right, doesn't it?" said Himeko, standing up slowly, fixing her dress with a few gentle brushes of her palm. She playfully tugged Mark up, grabbing him from underneath the shoulder, while Black Swan slid a glass in his empty palm. She popped the bottle open, pouring glasses for everyone—including a silent Pom Pom who had only then found it within himself to move more into view.
Mark was still livid, looking around like it were all a dream—and a damn good one at that. The cheers were loud in his ears, ringing like thunder, but a most pleasant one. March and Stelle were cheering, pulling him left and right, with Welt patting him on the shoulder as Dan Heng gave his usual, calmer congratulations. Himeko had a smile on her lips that beamed most brightly, as if shouting that she was proud of him, while Black Swan seemed to drown in the memories born of the event, like it were an oasis of life.
'What in the actual... did it work? Huh? I... hell, I struck gold... no, I struck oil in Dubai... no, more, hell... I found diamonds in my backyard... no, hell, I can't even find some nonsensical comparison now... God, thanks for the assists... tho now I have to see what and how. I got funds, but the question remains on what I'll do with them.'
In his mind, things didn't end like that. Rarely did it work so smoothly, to the point the current events felt scripted, a shady page in somebody's book, written to mess with him. The downfall might come, or it might not. Perhaps there was no downfall, or perhaps he was just schizophrenic as usual, seeing things where there are none.
'No matter. I'll do what I can as things go by. Plenty of money; perhaps I should further invest it all... stocks might still be a thing, I take it. Money spent there, or whatever... or other projects that would make more. Hell, why am I suddenly thinking about all that? I should celebrate, shouldn't I?'
His attention was snatched back to the present moment, with Stelle and March rattling him like a sack of potatoes tossed in the back of a cart.
"Mark, snap out of it! It's your celebration, and we won't let you think about who knows what!"
March wanted to make her point known, so she took extreme measures. Without a care in the world, she filled Mark's glass to the brim, a giddy smile on her lips.
"Drink up, Mark. Don't forget us, bigshot," she teased, grinning from ear to ear.
He gave a light nod and a smile, speaking in a tone that didn't quite suit his usual demeanor—softer, open like the curtains on a warm summer day.
"I don't forget anyone, even if I want to."
The smiles dimmed slightly, but he quickly picked up and shook his head, leaping for a mood fit for celebration.
"Anyway, fuck this shit. CHEERS!"
With a grin on his face, the glass went up and the champagne down in one large gulp, yet it didn't drown out the thoughts. He'd probably need a lot more to do that, and it never worked past him passing out in a warm, cozy sleep at angles that would normally break his back.
"Now, I should perhaps ask the important question, right?"
His eyes met that of Black Swan, one eyebrow raised.
"Go on, I guess," he answered, unsure of what to expect himself. Knowing her, it could be a most innocent inquiry or the deepest possible question aiming to usurp his soul and trample over it with metaphors.
"When do we get to play? I'm curious to play it for myself too, you know?"
"That's right! How could we forget?!" beamed March, shaking Mark by the shoulders ever so slightly. He could almost make out glitter in her eyes, sparkling with glee.
"Well, I was thinking of planning something a little more special for us. Instead of a normal playthrough on computers, I was going to try and talk with someone, but it's going to take a while... most probably."
Himeko's eyebrow went up this time, fingers resting on her hips.
"What are you up to this time, Mark?"
Welt seemed curious too, watching in silence. The game itself was already more than he'd expected, but a new way to play was something that seemed to appeal to him more than one would expect of an old man.
"Welp, it's another surprise..."
The expectant gazes all around pressured him into doing the obvious—confess.
"Fine, I'll cough it out. I was planning to try and get some high-tech equipment so we could all play it in an advanced form of VR... and maybe 'advanced' for me could turn out to be the standard, but with the games I've seen around, it seems far from it."
He took a moment to go over his words, finding wisdom where least expected.
'Hm, yes indeed, they play games on normal computers and stuff... why don't I try to strike a deal with our favorite genius lady and make some hella advanced VR machines? Next thing you know, I somehow manage to get a secondary storyline going in some large MMORPG... do I make one? Good call.'
With a soft shake of his head, the thoughts vanished for the time, stored away in the mental vault where his shitty ideas were stuffed with the brilliant ones.
"VR? That sounds interesting," said Welt, the corners of his mouth curling up.
"Welp, again, it will probably take a while for me to pull that off, and I guess I'll have to get my ass to work once more. I'll try to pull some strings where needed and get it started."
"Pulling strings now, are you?" smiled Himeko. "Don't keep us waiting for too long. You know that we've already waited quite a while just to see the game release."
He gave a sharp nod and a tiny grin, the familiar curl of his lips in just the left corner selling it.
"No worries. I'll see to that. Meanwhile, let's keep on partying. I guess it's time for a little shopping spree, right? Out we go, drinks on me!"
He winked, dancing on his way out.
"Snacks too, baby," he added, blasting some finger guns in the cringiest way he could before spinning and dancing like someone was electrocuting him—but he didn't care, since at that point the cringe was part of him.
Out he was, and his phone beeped, a single pinging noise that nearly went past his singing voice and slurred words that made no sense to anyone but him. With a flick of his wrist, the phone was up to his eye-level, a single message from no sender floating in his notification bar.
"Congratulations, Mark. Enjoy your moment, and don't forget about our little adventure. I hope you're free tomorrow."
He wiped his brow, closing his eyes shut for a meager moment before placing the phone away, striding into another dance move as he kept going with the group.
'Hell, that's an issue for tomorrow. I'll see how I'll make it work. For now, however, it's showtime.'