Bone Diggers - Chapter Forty One

Loading... Chapter Forty One

Some parkour was just practice. You had to train and work towards being able to control your movements. But some moves were also a matter of commitment. The gym's fourteen-foot warped wall was one such feat. Charlie ran up three-quarters of the wall in only two steps before jumping to reach the ledge above. Once on top, they moved back to make room on the platform. "Tonight's a big night for the stream, isn't it?"

"Yep," Owen said, without paying too much attention. But it was still somehow too much of his focus. He ran up the wall, but even three steps didn't give him enough boost before he had to bail and slide back down. Owen bounced on his feet to shake off the attempt, and glanced up to Charlie. "There's going to be a guest NPC and everything."

"London is treating you well I see."

Owen ran up the wall again, with solid footing this time, and within seconds was above it all with Charlie. London was alright, but he really didn't want to talk about it. "How's Spain?"

"Pretty good," Charlie said, "Luca is fun to play. She's a different class, but I doubt that's why people treat her differently than Lucas."

"What do you mean?"

Charlie scrunched up their nose debating if they wanted to explain this. "People hit on Luca more," they said, hoping that would explain everything.

Owen took a second. The game's population was mostly female, so you'd think that would prevent some things—like female passing characters being aggressively hit on—but apparently not. Another problem was that Owen didn't know what to say about it. That never happened with Daniel. "No romance for the thieves guild newest, I take it?"

"None for me, nor Luca," Charlie said. "Gotta try to cosmically balance out Daniel's all-consuming romantic attraction."

"How sweet of you." Owen slid down the warped wall again, and got up with a few quick steps.

Charlie sat down on the ledge. "Where are you going?"

"It's past five. I'm gonna be late to fnVR if I don't head over now."

"Oh." Charlie glanced about the gym, wondering if they wanted to hang out here or call it as well. "You should have done a flip and made it interesting for me."

Owen turned around to face Charlie, and placed a hand over his heart. "I'll try to do one tonight, and you'll know that flip was for you."

"Get out of here." Charlie gestured towards the door and laughed. "Happy streaming."

A single taxi ride over and Owen was greeted with a definite "you're late" from Andreah. She didn't have to stream tonight, but she did have to be here. Maybe even more to her annoyance was he wasn't late. There was still another two minutes before he had to log in.

"Oh really, Miss Bourne," Owen said, mirroring the same inflection Jorge had when he said it. It pissed her off every time, and he noticed. "Thank you for the update."

Andreah grabbed her soda, only to frown when it was nearly empty. "Fuck you, Owen."

He gestured up to the headset that was already on. "I'm sorry, can't right now. I don't want to be late."

God dammit, walked into that one. Despite herself, Andreah grinned over at him, thankful he couldn't see.

The fact that Daniel seemed stuck in London for a while was much to the chagrin of Spanish players. Suddenly the game was being promoted, and suddenly events were no longer on their turf. It was a valid concern, but for Owen it was a nice change of pace. It was easier to play without Amilia in a city that didn't remind him that she was missing. When Daniel, Lance, and Chloe got a place together in Britain, some feared the move would be permanent.

A uniquely British attraction was the Globe Theatre, where it cost only a penny to go in and see a play. Chloe was the only proper one of the trio, while Daniel and Lance took the less conventional approach and climbed the building.

The building had a circular roof that lined the edges, but otherwise was open to the air. Daniel slid down the inner slope of the roof, grabbing the ledge, and dropped onto the top floor. Definitely more fun than paying at the box office. He heard someone else land, and grinned at what surely had to be Lance.

There were people on the stage, but the lack of costume suggested they were just practicing. Daniel explored for the simple pleasure of looking around until a yell shattered his pleasure.

"Thief!" The cry came from below, and Daniel rushed to the railing to see what was going on. The yell came from a gentleman with a high collar and a neatly trimmed beard. The boys exchanged looks before springing into action. Lance ran across the top level, while Daniel climbed down the banister before jumping to the ground.

The thief in question was getting close to the door. The man's tunic bore no guild or country markings, meaning he was simply stealing. Daniel stood up, and threw a knife that implanted itself into the door as the man reached for it.

"Your naïveté at stealing shows," Lance said, as the bandit jumped back. Papers were clutched in his hands. Any tighter and they'd be crushed. Nervous eyes darted up to see Lance perched above like a gargoyle.

When the man didn't budge, Daniel walked over and grabbed the papers out of his hands. "Be gone," Daniel said, waving his free hand. The man stumbled towards the door, spending too much time watching Lance twirl a knife in his hands.

"Thank the heavens you saved my newest creation!" Chloe was standing next to the man who spoke, likely trying to put him at ease. He looked eternally grateful as he went on. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost Othello before I even finished it."

"You're Shakespeare," Daniel blurted. He looked down at the pages of the play and quickly moved to give them back.

"I see my reputation precedes me," the playwright said, and smiled down the pages as he tenderly smoothed them out. "It hasn't even been performed yet. Without you, it might have never been shown to the King."

Owen played for few more hours, and when he logged out he found Andreah sitting across from him with a headset on. He walked over to stand behind her to watch. It was clear he missed a bit, probably several scenes that explained what happened to Amilia, but what he did see made him uneasy.

Amilia looked like she could disappear. The corset she wore looked like the only bones that held her together. Her starved body was in stark contrast to the expensive clothes she was adorned in. Owen immediately recognized the area she was in, though. The dark London streets gave Amilia a quiet place to walk as she was escorted by an older man. Amilia looked sick at his mere touch, but didn't cower. Her strength was lost, replaced with a hollowed expression that was as significant as any change in her.

They moved into a building, and the man removed his coat the moment they entered, obviously feeling at home. Amilia drifted in, but stopped short of the bedroom. "I'm going to change for bed."

"Very well," the man agreed, as if to give her permission. Once Amilia closed the door, he seemed to contemplate something as he poured himself some wine. "You were quiet at dinner. A terrible guest, really. It's very rude to ignore the hostess the way you did."

Amilia stayed silent in her room. The NPC lagged outside the door for a moment before taking the liberty to enter without an announcement. Amilia flinched as she pulled on her nightgown quicker. "My apologies, Señor Viktor."

"Are you not thankful for all that I am doing for you?" he asked, advancing toward her. He stood before her, looming in a way that Amilia had grown too familiar with. She shook her head, whispering small words to assure him the opposite. The hand that wasn't holding the wine glass raised to brush her cheek before moving back quickly to hold the nape of her neck, and pulled her hair roughly. "Start acting like it, my dear."

Andreah just barely waited till the game saved to close down and remove her headgear. It nearly clattered off the desk before Owen reached over and caught it.

"Can you not fucking stand right behind me? I don't do that to you." Andreah snapped. She looked flushed, with glossy eyes that she blinked hard to hide.

Owen kept an even tone as he took a few steps back to give her room. "What happened? Why would the game do that?"

"The fuck if I know." Andreah pulled her hands through her hair, leaning forward into her chair as she looked ready to pull her knees up and hug them.

"Did you plan for that?"

"No," Andreah answered after a long breath, still not lifting her head to look at him.

Owen stepped forward, but stopped so he didn't disturb her personal space again. "What happened, what's different?"

Andreah sighed again before getting up to pace around the room. "Amilia was supposed to go to 'the new world', and lead the Knights on a wild goose chase after faking her execution. She tricked them into thinking she knew where the shield was, and was supposed to lead them on until she and Celio could get away. Another boat was coming that would offer them safe passage back to Europe. But there is only colonialism and the death that follows right now. No one lasted the hands of their would-be protection besides Amilia. The only option was to beg this man to take her back to Europe. He only agreed to...to practically own her. It just fucking destroys everything Amilia could hold onto."

"This is bullshit." Without another word, he bolted out of the door like a man on a mission.

"What? Owen! Wait—"

He paused a step out of their door and glanced over the other fnVR workers before heading to where Jorge's office was. The secretary of the week was guarding his door, but even her objections didn't stop him from storming in. Jorge's chair was turned away from Owen as he barged into the office.

"I need to talk to you," he demanded.

Jorge swiveled his chair around and gestured with great annoyance towards the phone held up to his ear. The curled cord stretched across the desk. Oh. Owen had missed that. He bit his tongue and waited. And waited. Jorge said nothing to him.

When the chair started to turn towards the window again, Owen took a step forward and hung the call up for him. That got Jorge's instant attention, and anger. "I said," Owen repeated, "I need to talk to you."

"And you didn't think that other people have the same need?"

"No."

Jorge hung up the phone that was now giving him a dial tone. "What do you want?" he asked with a heavy sigh.

"What are you doing to Amilia's story?"

"She has to travel back to Spain, obviously, if you want her back in your game."

"This is the last time I'm going to ask. What are you doing to Andreah's game?"

Jorge sat forward in his desk, hands folded on top. "Amilia wasn't testing as well as other characters. People didn't trust her. It was decided we'd make her more sympathetic."

"By abusing her?" Owen accused, his voice raising when no one seemed to see the problem right away. "People don't give a shit about abuse victims. If they didn't like her before, they will just blame this on her too."

Jorge's turned his palms up, as if to show that this wasn't in them. "Age of Shadows prides itself on being a 'choose your own.' If people perceive it that way, that's the way they see it. There is nothing shown on—"

"That's a cop out, and you fucking know it." Owen likely should have given Jorge a moment to reply, but he didn't. "Is this meant to be for my benefit in some sick way?"

"We'd never intentionally write such things into the storyline. However, the game allows such drama. If players choose to—"

"Amilia and Andreah didn't pick this."

Jorge balled his hands up. "Surely, you aren't going to accuse me of hurting a fictional character's feelings," he laughed.

"You're upsetting Andreah, isn't that good enough?"

"She's a big girl, she can handle it. Obviously has handled herself fine so far. Furthermore, she's under contract, an employee, and how am I to know what offends her?"

Owen gritted his teeth, wishing he could do more than hang up Jorge's call. "If I see anything like a kick the dog trope again, even as a 'joke', I'm walking."

Jorge narrowed his eyes, done with the fury that had whirled into his office uninvited. "Do I need to remind you are also under contract?"

Owen held his hands up, pulling his wrists together. "Maybe next time you should handcuff me instead." It didn't matter if the asshole believed him, it was a credible threat so he turned around and left the room.

But it wasn't long before Owen stopped again. Andreah and Jorge's secretary were both staring in from the open door. He exchanged a glance with Andreah before stepping past her, and headed back to their joint office.

Andreah closed the door behind them before collapsing onto the couch. She closed her eyes for a long time, and when she opened them again, ended up staring at Owen. He wasn't sure why. Maybe she was looking for something to say.

"What?" Owen pressed finally.

Andreah shook her head. "I'm going home," she said, as she got up and started gathering her things.

"Does it bother you, or not? Because before I went in there it seemed like it did, but now I can feel your disapproval."

She shoved her laptop into her backpack. "I'm in no position to say anything anymore. And maybe you shouldn't care so much."

"I'll care about what I want to," Owen countered without a second thought. "You telling me what to care about, or not, isn't going to change that. Things like that are harmful."

Andreah glanced down for a moment before looking at him. "Well, wait until you've actually been handcuffed, and we'll see how loudly you'll speak up for the smaller things like this."

"You used to have the guts to tear this building down if things didn't suit you. And this isn't small, I saw what it did to you. What it's doing to Amilia."

Andreah turned for the door. Her hair hid whatever expression she had on her face. "It's interesting that you only notice the pain when it's hurting Amilia. What it could do to others."

"That's not true."

Whether she believed it or not, she didn't wait a moment longer before walking out. Her steps were loud against the wood floors as she walked to the elevators, the silence they left behind even louder.