Insanity Online! The Forging Of A TRUE NORD

*Briiing*

“Yaaaaaawn”

Ah finally, third period over!

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Wait why did I bother waking up when I’ve still got 3 to go?

Plopping my head back onto my desk I let blissful darkness take over my world.

*WhoosSlam*

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Lazily opening up one of my eyes, I see some perfectly manicured nails with little snowman pictures drawn onto them with nail varnish a few inches from me. The delicate hand (With such smooth skin I must add) that smashed onto my desk seems to be trembling with a hint of anger, well a bit more than a hint I think.

Groggily turning my head a bit, I travel my vision up the smooth arm and stop at a luxurious face with sharp blue eyes contrasted with her snow-white skin and plump red lips. Although her scowling face does destroy her lavicious image somewhat

“Ah Missy”

“Zaaach”

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Ah...

Blasting out of my chair sending it flying back “Oi watch it” I dash past Missy and zoom my way through the crowd vaulting over Jim’s table and squeezing through Mila and Jane (Sadly it was not a tight squeeze but I don’t have time for that now!!). Shouting ‘excuse me’ towards the entering classmates, I barge through (I say barge but I am gently guiding them out of my way. For I am a gentleman) and out into the corridor.

Abruptly turning right, I sprint down the corridor getting a Doppler effect “ Don’t run in the hallway’s Jeesh” from Clara before I spot an open window to my left and with a great leap—I jump over a duo of guys hoboing by it (What, you think I’d leap out of a window? I’m in a rush yes, but jumping out of windows has never been a good family experience).

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Oh god, Sorry I forget, you have no idea what I’m talking about. Hmm where should I start from? Ah yes. Hi I’m Zach (why does that never fail to sound mechanical) and I’m just your average student in Djinn International (The founder was an old-school gamer so I dig the name).

Ah…I see you are a bit confused as to why I am addressing you. Well in reality I’m just mentally recording my life with the new Twwyb; some strange device that allows you to write with your brain as I am doing right now. Anyways, I’m doing this so you can partake in my wonderful adventures…because I have nothing better to do with my time.

Now that we’ve got this 4th wall business sorted out…let’s get back to me!

I am Missy’s personal bitch (Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t make it sound so much like a fact). Well that’s a bit harsh on myself, although she did step on me during class once and then called me Señior Bitch for a week as well as the non-stop errands. No, no, I really am her bitch.

Speaking of which, that’s what I’m up to now; her lunch-time errand. It’s not far to go to the canteen but the queues are truly horrendous.

Well that is our Quality, us English love to make queues (Yes there is a queue for who is Missy’s bitch, although I take and keep top spot for that. I’m not sure I should be proud of that though).

Anyways I’m thinking you’re wondering why the grand me would be a personal bitch to Missy, as well as there being a queue for it? Well there are two reasons.

Rocket Breasts. Yes those 34E weapons of mass destruction wreak havoc in our school on a daily basis, much more so in the past few months since someone had to go braless to school and do her daily jog (You know those rumors about people almost dying from nosebleeds, well they ain’t rumors, no siree). She has the reputation of having spilled the most blood in the school (even more so they the Crimson Trio, our so esteemed delinquents) and rightly so.

I can with all rights say that those are both the reasons why I’m her personal bitch. But I do actually have a sincere (non-perverted) reason: I’m her long lasting childhood friend.

It just sort of turned out that way mostly due to our Slave and Master play-acting (Oh bless my innocent young heart). Before I realized it, we were in middle-school and I was pretty much officially her personal bitch (I was even nominated such at our midschool graduation…I had mixed feelings about that). Now we’re in the 6th form (last two years of school, finally) So it’s been, jeez, 3 years since then? I’ve gotten quite used to it (There’s also some quite unexpected benefits to it too).

Anyways enough blabbing about myself, I should really be concentrating on the road.

Yes the road; I do drive (quite well, like all Englishmen) a moped; although so far its only uses have been lunch errands and free morning taxi (I certainly don’t mind doing that). So per usual I’m driving a marvelous 30 miles per hour (50Kmph) across town to Chorny’s Bakery.

Parking, I rush to the door and announce my greatness.

Thump!

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Stealthily wiping away the image of my face from the icy door, I turn the handle.

“Ah hey there Zach, was wondering when you’d pfft face me with your presence”

“…I was having a face-off with the door”

Chorny…A young man trying to start up his own business using his name, a fatal mistake indeed. He’s a nice enough fellow though and his bakery skills are pretty good. Honestly his bakery skills would take his store to a higher level but he’s got a small problem: He’s incessantly horny (His parents had impeccable naming sense it seems).

This is a true problem because all his staff have left him in fear of the predatory beast he is and he does scare off the odd customer with a hungry look (He is a true predator; anything that moves is his prey). If you somehow look past that gargantuan wall you…you find he’s an amiable guy.

“I would love to small-talk but time is of the essence, and I don’t want to interrupt your hunt”

Chorny is busy talking with a woman in her mid-forties (I guess, I’m not experienced with that age yet so I’m not a reliable age teller source) with his special eye-glint.

“Don’t mind the twerp behind you miss, he’s just fooling around” (And Sir may I ask what you are doing?) “Now, here’s you loaf and here’s my number…My business card of course” (well Gigolo is a profession so it will have a business card I guess).

With a somewhat confused expression, the woman thanks Chorny and leaves with a look like she had missed something vital.

“Chorny…that was pathetic”

“I’ve…had a bit of a dry spell lately so I’m a bit out of sync ok”

“And so the predator, starving, must feast upon the mildly rotted corpse in hopes that it will satiate him”

“Oy stop it with the commentary and sheesh she was only 52” (Wow I was waaaay off)

Oh just for the record, Chorny is 31

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Well who am I to judge, I’m an official personal bitch (James gave me a sash with ‘Missy’s personal bitch’ embroided on it last secret Santa, quite impressive sewing skills indeed).

Getting back to the thought, I order those delicious meat pies (absolutely fantastic mystery meat) and scram back to school (putting on my protective gear before driving of course, safety first).

Parking my bike in my own personal spot, I rush back weaving brilliantly through the masses who sit on the stairs and mill about in the hallways. Just for kicks I jump over the duo whom are still hoboing by the window earning a few half-angry shouts from them as I disappear into the crowds.

Bursting into the classroom, I slide past Mila and Jane (damn the fates that stunted their growth) and after sending the box lightly into the air I roll underneath an empty obtruding table before catching the box deftly with my left hand (You can tell I have done this many many times). Ending my position on one knee, I hold the plain white box above my head as if offering to a goddess.

Now, I have briefly mentioned the goddess that is Missy but without the full picture of what she looks like, I reckon it’s quite hard for you to see just why the infirmary had to be remodeled to fit more beds in.

Missy is a halfie; a Japanese American taking the best of the best. Her body is that of the famous hourglass with a well rounded rear as well as those Double E weapons. Coupled with her snow-white skin that is soft as a babies to the touch (Don’t ask), her figure is deadly and every inauguration day, a good 20% of the new boys get a first-class tour of the infirmary (She does regularly wear black and red corsets and other similarly seductive clothing, which doubles the effectiveness).

Also her face doesn’t lose any points either; she has a small face narrowing at the chin with a smooth raised jawline and prominent cheekbones. Her eyes are a deep ocean blue but are sharp like a cats while her plump red lips give her a soft quality. Her impossibly smooth (again don’t ask) long black hair is always tucked behind her small ears giving all a good view of her gorgeous face from all directions.

She takes the box out of my hands and taps my head, releasing me. Letting out a “phew”, I stand up and take my own lunch from my bag.

Now you notice I didn’t go the canteen like I mentioned waaay earlier. Well that was because the meat pies are good bargaining chips, and they worked this time.

Unwrapping my sandwiches, I plop down on the floor (Tears forming in my eyes) and eat my sandwich while I talk about the classes I slept through with Missy (who, as always, has taken my chair).

Getting the boring stuff out of the way, I drive the conversation towards the ultimate goal: Games!!!

I love games with all my heart. Enough is said. Luckily Missy has heard of games before (though her father...it’s complicated…so I haven’t been able to officially invade her house with games yet).

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“So today is that special day, hmm, never thought I’d be so calm given the situation”

“I never would have guessed” I catch her rubbing her ears slightly. What did I talk too much or something?

It’s not like I went completely crazy talking to her in the past half-hour about this new VRMMO called Insanity Online where there were more than 20 races to pick from and it is supposed to be the game with the greatest freedom; you can be whatever class you want to be and do whatever you want to do with no limits on what skills you can learn or how you play your game or where you play your game as everyone will play on the same server which sounds immensely fun as you can talk to people from other sides of the world however I have no idea how I’m going to be able to talk to people if I don’t know their language so I just assume there’s some translation system in play which is completely astounding because to perfectly translate dozens of different languages to other dozens of languages is a hard feat even for most Ai’s that have been built to this day; only Ai’s of military caliber or more are able to do so much and I’ve heard that this Ai runs the whole Online world which is absolutely insane because the processing power to do such a thing would be astronomical and I find it amazing that someone has made such a thing and its going to be used for a game and that makes me extremely happy because I get to play this game this afternoon on its launching day and play with a whole bunch of other people and make new friends while questing and fighting monsters with your own body which I’ve really wanted to do so badly but only recently have I gotten the Black Box (the VR headset) so I haven’t experienced the awesomeness that is Virtual Reality and there are so many questions I have about this beautiful game but I cannot answer them till I’ve gone into the game and tried it out myself and I can’t wait to log-in because then I can play to my heart’s content.

I felt that I was quite calm when talking about Insanity Online with Missy, albeit a little out of breath.

After our little discussion, Missy walked off looking a little dizzy telling me she had to go to class, so I reclaimed my seat.

Class soon started and with that I diligently threw myself to studying…not.

I closed my thick math book and taking out a tiny pillow-sheet, covered it (My math-book is my greatest ally in class). Thus the sleeping commenced…

Or so it should have but our most lovely bas-Teacher flung an arithmetic question at me.

Getting out of my chair, I direct my drained corpse towards the board and begun a most hellish lesson indeed (Jerry, the Math teacher doesn’t like it when I sleep in class so he makes sure I’m at the board the whole class. Hell I’m writing so much on there I could be considered the teacher rather than him!)

Thankfully, my double biology lesson is just another play around with insect’s lesson so I get a good 2 hour kip. I do need this sleep because a gamers’ working hours is the night!

The minute the bell rings ending last period, I leap out the window (Before you ask, no, I did not commit suicide from excitement) and quickly rappel down the two floors using a hemp rope; which I had bought a couple of days ago (and yes it was specifically just for this moment, though I’m sure it’d come in handy for other things) and had stealthily tied it to the table foot a few minutes before class ended.

Quickly hitting the ground, I give two tugs to the rope and Mickey, a good helper as always, undoes the rope for me and tosses it at me with a jealous grumble; I’d get home before him!

Almost flying, I spring towards my moped (and of course put on my protective gear) and then rev it up to head home.

However Lady Luck somehow had me on her naughty list, so as I started to drive off, I see a benevolent goddess step in-front of the moped, her hands on her hips accompanied with a frown.

Feeling a cold sweat running down my neck, I quickly stop the moped.

“Phew Viper, that was a close one” I mutter to my moped as I pat the front-lights. If I was careless there I’d have to get myself a new moped.

With an almighty sigh, I get off Viper and collect the black-flame covered helmet that is Missy’s. Once helmeted, she sits and hugs me from behind. Damn, I don’t mind the benefits but having to taxi her will make me lose the race.

I had challenged Mickey to see who was faster to get home (I had the moped advantage but we both foresaw this coming) simply because we both are wannabe Insanity Onliners.

Cursing at my foiled plan, I leisurely drive Missy home (no need to rush and miss out on the good feeling).

Dropping her off at the door of a small two-storey house, she waves goodbyes and skips inside.

Now that she’s gone, I drive like a complete and utter madman overtaking cars and flying through speedbumps, weaving through that masses and ignoring the blaring of horns as I swing round the corners at top speed!

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If you haven’t figured out that I was being sarcastic, figure it out now. I am a true bitch driver and have never once overtaken a car or gone over 30 miles per hour. Although, looking as though going 40mph has a chance of killing you if you fall/crash (although I’m protected so a very small chance), I’m driving at a decently dangerous speed already (It may just be that I am a complete and utter bitch when driving, but safety first!).

Reaching the house, I park the moped and walk up to the door, where Mickey is standing quite out of breath. With a friendly smile, I knock on the door (He forgot his keys! Yes! It’s not over yet!).

Martha opens the door and we both non-chalantly walk in side by side with innocent smiles towards Martha. She closes the door behind us and leaves the vicinity.

Bursting to the first step, I gain the advantage and silently rush up 2 steps before my feet are bogged down by Mickey, who with his superior strength holds me in place while slowly dragging himself above me. Twisting round, I push his shoulders keeping him in check.

Suddenly he rolls to the right causing me to go to my side, let’s go and thrusts himself up another step.

Grabbing the banister I rise to my feet and leap up a few steps before being pinned down by Mickey’s god damn strong hands! Keeping me pinned, he stays low and drags himself up to where I am and I try my best to peel off his iron-clenched fingers.

Suddenly Martha starts coming out from the kitchen heading towards us and we both silently let go and rush up the stairs still pushing eachother lightly to get ahead on the way of course.

“Boy’s you ok? Please stop banging around doing whatever you’re doing, it’s quite loud. By the way dinner is ready in a few minutes so get ready”

Damn. We look at eachother to make a truce and both go to our respective rooms to change our attire for dinner.

Opening the door to my room is like opening the door to a suspicious dungeon room: It’s oddly empty with only a bed, wardrobe and bedside table. I say oddly empty because a growing man’s room should be full of all kinds of things. However my room does not have any of that on the surface.

Opening my wardrobe, I blow off the small layer of dust on my various piles of clothes. I used to wear my school uniform literally 99% percent of the time when I had to wear it. But now I don’t have to so I wear my old school uniform anyways. I really have nothing better to wear.

The last time I went shopping was literally so long ago I’ve forgotten and I have quite the distaste for shopping, so I never willingly do it.

Therefore my clothing choices at the moment are: School uniform, Suit (the whole works), Beach shorts and flowery shirt, Jeans and T-shirt and Pajamas. One thing for each occasion. Lasted me pretty much forever, so it’s a good system.

Anyways. I grab my pj’s and a white t-shirt (I have a couple of those for layering since England is coooold sometimes) and head off downstairs.

Sneaking a peek into Mickey’s room, I see his lair is fully equipped with books, crisp bags, gaming consoles and I swear I saw a nice picture of some jugs in the corner there (no he isn’t a pottery enthusiast before you ask).

Trotting off downstairs, I go sit and nom on the spaghetti Bolognese that Martha cooked for us while playing thumb war with Layla.

You may have noticed, but I don’t call her mum. Well that’s because she isn’t. Long story short, parents moved away and since they wanted me to continue studying in England they set me up with some random stranger; Martha.

Martha’s quite a nice woman of 35 who has treated both me and Mickey with a lot of kindness, hell she even remembered my birthday which was truly nice of her.

By the way, Layla is her daughter. She’s 7 so she’s quite a rascal but she’s always a bubble of energy so it’s nice to be around her, at times. However she is nosey beyond belief; she almost found my secret treasure once and I hid that pretty damn well.

Mickey gallops downstairs and wolfs down his pasta. Noticing that, I crush Layla in the thumb war and then start golloping down mine too. We finish half our plate in a minute flat.

“Boys boys boys, slow down. What’s gotten into you?”

“Insanity Online” We both say it synchronized in a robotic voice. That’s why I like Mickey so much; he’s simple, just like me.

“Oh why did the two lovely sons I temporarily inherit have to be such gaming addicts” Martha preaches to the sky with a cheeky grin

“Now now Martha, VR gaming is healthy for you” pointing my unused fork at her (Yes tis slightly rude but I can’t just drop the fork in the bowl and wag my finger, no time!).

“Damn right, can’t wait to chase after goblins and sully their insignificant lives”

I don’t think that’d lead her to encourage us, Mickey…

“Ah, well gamers will be gamers” She says sighing

“PWAH” Mickey releases the bowl from his grasp, licked clean, and sprints upstairs, stopping briefly due to indigestion.

“Haha” Seeing my chance I gulp down the last of mine and sprint towards him but indigestion too hits me, hard.

Kneeling, I try my best to crawl to the stairs but by then he is halfway up, crawling too.

Slowly but inevitably, I crawl up after him trying my best, but he started just too far ahead, not mentioning his room is closer too. He reaches his door and shuts it, and with that I concede my defeat at the top of the stairs.

Remaining motionless in pity for a few minutes, I let the indigestion die down before I drag myself to my room.

Flopping on the bed, I take my Black Box from one of my many hidden places and place it gently on my head. Checking the time I see 33 minutes are left till opening. However that is only 3 minutes in my mind because there was an announcement on the forums that the character creation would open up 30 minutes before release.

Now, if you did hear within my short speech earlier, I mentioned that the Launching is today…and the company; Anubis, didn’t give any useful information on how to play or anything…

So I know only the basic information and pretty much nothing else, as it should be.

Waiting 3 minutes was oddly not as time-excruciating as I dreaded it would be. They passed in a flash and with 30 minutes on the countdown, I activated the Black Box. A small HUD appeared before my eyes and selecting the game icon I fell into a light sleep. Darkness overtook me.