Prologue
Some things in life are just inevitable; they just can’t be avoided. Taxes, death, reality… These things demand your attention. They exist to assert worry into your life. Even the entire concept of inevitability is inevitable. Everyone has something they want to avoid, but just can’t. Let’s say the small gang that you lead finally conquers Lethal Securities and everyone start’s celebrating until you realize most of Ebizou Base’s members are awake and their reign of terror begins. The impending doom would be, sadly, inevitable. Mine, however…
“Ethan, you need to get a job.”
Yep, adult responsibilities. A real pain in my pixelated behind.
I sat on the dining room table, still half asleep. I really shouldn’t have partied so hard at Astros last night. My father sat across me, reading the Era Daily newspaper while my mum was enjoying her breakfast of eggs and toast.
“You can’t just live with us forever” My dad continued, taking a sip from him coffee mug. No sugar, no milk. Just like his coffee, my dad is a strong and bitter man. He built this family with his own bare hands, suffered through the rough tides of the trading and economical world of Era.
“Your father’s right, you don’t want to be stuck with us forever” My mum chimed in, buttering her toast. The problem is, I don’t want to leave yet. All I want is my room, Wi-Fi, and to be wrapped up in my comforter like a burrito. Is that too much to ask? Of course I didn’t say that, imagine the distraught in my parent’s faces when they realize that their youngest son’s biggest ambition is to become a human-sized Mexican dish that isn’t even edible.
“I’m going to get ready for work” My dad finally said, downing his last drip of coffee. “There’s a white umbrella up for sale and the salesperson is a bit ditzy.” He slapped the newspaper in front of me, which was ever so conveniently flipped to the job advertisements page, and left the room. With sheer apathy, I reached forward for the newspaper.
The thing about the job seekers page of Era Daily is the lovable play with words. Oh, the puns. “Miner’s Union is now hiring miners. Drill your way to success!” Caves make me claustrophobic. “Jenn’s flower shop is looking for devoted florists, watch your career bloom!” When I was 6, I planted a tomato garden; we still buy tomatoes from the grocery store. “Dippin’ Donuts is hiring, Do-nut be shy to join us!” ugh. Then there were the less impressive, less creative job ads in the corner that I didn’t really give a damn about. I put down the newspaper and sighed.
“You know, we’re just trying to help you become independent.” My mum said, as if hearing my depressing sigh. Nonsense. It was quite obvious my parents are trying to shoo me away. Maybe it’s because I’m a burden to their electricity bill, or that I always drink milk from the carton, or that my room is in a disastrous mess, or that I may or may not have secretly overheard my parent’s 12 a.m. secret.
“We really want you to experience the great world!” my father continued, walking into the room, now properly suited in a businessman’s coat and tie. “We need you to take the big step” uh oh, I know where this is going… don’t talk about Matthew. “We want you to take chances!” please don’t talk about Matthew. “We want you to bring glory to our family” don’t even say his name…
“Just like Matthew!” both my parents said together.
Oh god. Matthew is my older brother. Sure, he’s a Player Relation who earns a steady 15k a month. Yea so what if he volunteers in rescuing players in danger, helps new players navigate their way, handle bully cases, and organize charity and social events. Pfft. He was the pride in our family, the complete opposite of me.
After what seemed like an eternal lecture on working and praising the almighty Matthew, My dad finally stopped. “Well, I’m off. The early bird catches the good offers and amateur traders!” My dad said, planting a kiss on my mum’s cheek and went straight out to what I call the Black Market of Era, the Trading Tables. It wasn’t too long later when I heard our dogs barking.
“That must be the mailman. Ethan baby will you go check the mail for me please” My mum said.
I got up lazily and made my way to the mailbox. I briefly went through the enveloped one by one. Four for dad, five for mum, 2 restaurant flyers, and the rest were gang invites. Living in the city of Era, you’d be getting used to crammed mailboxes full of gang invitations. These gangs normally look for new recruits to join them in conquering the certain areas of Era. I normally throw them out, or even better, recycle them for money. But there was this urge in me to read through the gang invites. Let’s just call it Fate. Fate is unpredictable. And today fate wants me to read gang invites.
I threw away all the gang invites written in Comic Sans MS. One of my principles in life is that anything formal written in informal font style is completely and utterly useless. You can tell if these gangs were serious or not just by their designs; Ebizou Base would have their gang invites written in fine black ink on Japanese floral paper, gangs like sK or Grim Reapers would be a very crude red ink words on black paper, and so on. However, there was one gang that caught my eyes.
I clenched onto that letter, this feeling in me really wanted to join this gang, maybe it was because they were wise enough to use a real font like Times New Roman, or maybe it was the good pay, or that I’m done being compared to Matthew and that I want to show my parents that I am capable of being responsible. I ran into the kitchen and said enthusiastically:
“Mum, I want to be a baser”.
Tell me what you guys think about this storyshould I continue it with the other few parts? Oh yea I’m still deciding on the gang Ethan will be joining, feel free to leave any suggestions!
Reply With Quote
