“Can’t you be happy for even a second?” Aoife was doing her best to defend Owen from the sardonic comments of Deacon.
“Why should I be happy? We pushed them off at the one meter mark! That means we need to push the payload all the way through the next round to win. How the fuck are we meant to do that with a fumbling disaster of a teammate who just wants to pump up his ego?” Owen frowned. She hadn’t expected the most hurtful part of his sentence to be the masculine pronoun near the end.
“But we stopped them from capping the objective, Deacon. That means we had a successful defense! Even if it was down to the wire…” Sarah was speaking in her very typical soft spoken lilt. Owen wasn’t sure how Sarah put up with the guy, but if anyone could pull him out of his stink, it’d be his girlfriend.
“Awww shit, that’s a great point, Sarah! Because they didn’t fully push it, we did a great job! I guess we can just relax then since this match is in the bag. It’s not like we got steamrolled in every goddamn teamfight!” Sarah pulled away slightly as Deacon snapped back at her. Aoife and Owen both shot each other brief glances as if to confirm to each other that they weren’t imagining things.
“Okay bigshot, cool your jets. She’s just trying to help.” Owen stepped forwards to put herself between Sarah and Deacon.
“Yeah, yeah. At least she did something in the last match to save our asses.” Deacon glared at Owen, even leaning towards her in an effort to unsettle her. “You have good game knowledge dude, it’s how I know you’re being a fucking prick right now by dragging us down.”
“If you shot as well as you complain, we wouldn’t have anything to worry about.” Owen spat her words back at Deacon as she leaned in towards him. The two of them were close enough to feel the hot breath of hatred brushing across their faces.
“One minute left! Start getting back to your seats everyone!” Richie’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. He was shouting the announcement towards Team 1, since he was still huddled together with the rest of Team A. Four of the five minutes that had been allowed for a team huddle had been used up mocking one another in the Team 1 huddle.
“Can we just get along for even a few minutes? If I have to play this next round with a backing track of mockery I’m gonna lose my mind.” Aoife did her best to break apart the ego match that was bubbling up between Deacon and Owen.
“I’m on this goddamn team for a reason. I care about making something of this team. I want to get as close to nationals as we can possibly get, and that won’t happen if Owen keeps up this stupid act.” Deacon practically spat out his last few words at Owen before moving to sit in his chair, slapping his headphones over his ears before anyone had a chance to respond to him.
Wr4th was seemingly the most apt username possible for Deacon at that moment. Owen couldn’t help but endlessly ponder his words as Sarah and Aoife awkwardly exchanged glances between each other. She didn’t want to give any credence to the volatile outburst of his, but she couldn’t help but shake the latter part of his insults. Owen was putting on an act, in more ways than one. She struggled to thread through just how many elaborate layers of lies she had twisted up in her personal life. Some had finally come unraveled with Aoife discovering her UMDK identity, with even more lies unraveling as Owen dissected her own identity in front of Aoife and Castle. But the act hadn’t ended for her. She felt like it had only just begun in many ways. With the advent of her new identity, she would have to find a way to juggle her new life on the daily, sectioning off times to feel like herself, while “performing” the existence of an Owen that had always been. PertinentHorse was a facade, built to perpetuate the lies that Owen spun up to make herself feel safe. As long as the vacant stare of the default male character creator stared back at her before every match of UMDK, she would continue to stack lies upon lies like an emotionally mangled game of Jenga until it all came crashing down inevitably.
“Owen? Hey, look at me, girl. Deep breaths.” Aoife’s words were delicate yet forceful. It was enough to tear Owen away from her rapid breaths she hadn’t realized she was haggardly perpetuating in her panic. Owen’s first thought was to panic even more when Aoife had allowed herself to call Owen “girl” in the midst of company. Luckily, Aoife had already made sure that Sarah and Deacon had their headphones on for the next round that was starting in a few seconds. “He was pretty brutal, Owen. We can shit talk all night long but you need to get ready for this next round.” Aoife gently pulled Owen into a side hug that steadily transitioned into a subtle push towards her chair. Owen stuck a foot out to root herself in place.
“I can’t do this round with that stupid fucking account.” Owen stated plainly, noting the distant form of Richie passive aggressively tapping a non-existent watch on his arm to signal that Owen and Aoife needed to take their places. Owen didn’t acknowledge Richie.
“But- Owen you can’t just forfeit halfway through the match. It’s just a practice round; if you quit now it’s gonna look bad. You don’t want Richie to think you’re not committed on the very first day of practice.”
“I know. That’s why I’m still playing. I just said I can’t do it with PertinentHorse.” Owen didn’t smile. She didn’t have much of an expression at all, making it hard for Aoife to process her friend’s words. Owen spoke confidently and neutrally, and when the words finally clicked in Aoife’s head, her eyes lit up with an electric kind of excitement.
“...oh my god are you serious?” Aoife tightly gripped the ends of Owen’s fingers. She had been holding her hands in a very non-committal way, like she was scared to hold any more of Owen’s hands than her fingers while they were in public. Richie finally lifted his headphones off of his head and stood up from his chair while still attempting to get Owen’s attention.
“Hey! The team huddles are over you two. What are you doing?” Owen could see Richie approach the two of them while still remaining on the other side of the line of monitors.
“I’d like a timeout if that’s okay. Enough time to switch my account over, if that’s okay.” Owen politely asked a very perplexed Richie. It took a moment for Richie to finish his three step process of confused facial expressions before he spoke again.
“I thought it was hacked or something. You told me you didn’t have access to that account anymore.”
Owen flicked her eyes towards Aoife for a moment before returning her attention to Richie. A soft smile spread across her lips despite the wracking nerves that grew with every person in the room who pulled their headphones back to listen in on the conversation that was delaying their game.
“I lost it for a little bit, but I’ve got it back now. I plan to keep it that way.” Owen’s trembling fingers were pulled together into a tight squeeze from Aoife’s hands. It was the greatest gesture of support that Owen needed at that moment.
“Uh. Okay. Switch it over fast please, I’d like to get this show on the road.” Richie turned back towards the rest of the players. With a short half-hearted shrug he walked back to his chair.
Owen wasted no time at all sitting down in her seat. She gave one last nervous smile towards Aofie before putting her headphones on. Momentum was the only thing keeping her from outright petrification. She quickly copied the lobby code and DM’d it to her main account before hitting the “log out” button. It didn’t take long at all for her to sign in as Witchofthew3st and paste the lobby code into the search. A mixture of perplexed expressions washed over the room in a wave as players looked at the new player that had replaced PertinentHorse in the lobby. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Without any wasted seconds, Owen switched out augments on the fly, customizing one of her preset loadouts to fit the build that she had imagined in her mind during the first round of the match. She was engrossed in her pre-planning phase, as it was just about the only thing she could do to keep herself distracted from the uncomfortable stares she felt coming her way.
[Sarah6258: Oh.]
[Wr4th: Figures…]
It was an ominous reaction to seeing Owen’s username and character model load into the match. Before she could begin to know what to feel about it, the game message splashed across the screen with its bold font.
[MATCH BEGINS IN 30 SECONDS]
Being on offense this time, the preparation phase was much more subdued. Without any need to move their characters through the map towards the first chokepoint, they simply sat in the spawn room, with only the crushing weight of unspoken words to keep them company.
[NintendoFemicom: Do we want to talk strategy or just pray to RNJesus that this works out well when we rush in there?]
[Wr4th: What fucking strategy would work with this comp? Our “tank” just decided to switch to a 5ft tall neon pink pile of nuclear waste. Without a frontline our whole plan from last match is out the window.]
[Witchofthew3st: Not like that strategy returned on investment anyway. I’m gonna open your eyes to a strategy that’ll dazzle that mushy mound of meat in your head.]
[Wr4th: Alright you fucking-]
[Sarah6258: Can we please not fight?! I just want to play the game. I think a change of plans would be for the best anyway…]
[Witchofthew3st: I’ll keep them busy. You guys do whatever you can while they’re occupied.]
Owen hoped that her proposed plan would work just fine for Deacon. Technically, it was exactly what he had been asking for in the previous round. All he wanted was to get attention off of himself in order to make use of his rather good aim. If there was one thing that Owen was completely confident in, it was distracting enemies enough to allow a team to capitalize on the openings.
[Wr4th: You’d better.]
[NintendoFemicom: Roman candle?]
The words were likely meaningless to Sarah and Deacon, but Owen knew exactly what Aoife was communicating with those two words. She had clearly paid attention to the augments that Owen equipped onto her loadout during the preparation phase.
[Witchofthew3st: You betcha.]
With the countdown coming to a close, the doors to the spawn room slid open, marking the start of Owen’s first ever match of UMDK in public with her main account. It felt strange for Owen to be able to look around at classmates one second, and the bubblegum pink of her decaled shotgun the next.
[Sarah6258: Your character is very pretty.]
The soft words that resonated through Owen’s headphones pressed into her heart as she ran up to the first chokepoint with the rest of her team. “Pretty” was not the reaction she had expected, but the word prodded away at her heart and almost yanked a tear from her right eye before Owen blinked it away. She couldn’t help but notice a grumble from Deacon that his microphone managed to pick up. It wasn’t a surprise that Deacon would have issues with Sarah’s comment. Owen did the only thing she could think of doing to ease the tensions as she aligned herself by the corner of a wall just before the first chokepoint.
Pretty and pink. It sure did make for a good distraction, but that wasn’t necessarily the intention when Owen had first made the character on UMDK’s launch day.
[Wr4th: Or a good nuisance.]
[Witchofthew3st: Distraction. Nuisance. Does it matter? I get the job done.]
Owen couldn’t help but grin. With her character model lined up in the right spot against the wall, she turned her camera around to face the wall, lining up her reticle with the top of the first wooden panel that bordered the ground. It had been a while since Owen had used this build for a match, but the muscle memory and vast knowledge of lineups with her current gun had stayed fresh in her mind. She might not be able to remember the birthdays of any of her friends, but she could sure as hell remember the lineup of a [Gravplazz] alternate fire flank. With the unique trait of dealing no direct damage, but instead providing intense knockback, the [Gravplazz]’s alternate fire was the perfect tool for adrenaline junkie momentum monsters that took the time to learn its tricky lineups. They were so tricky in fact that even Owen would still mess them up on occasion, much to the amusement of Femicom. But not today, she had to achieve peak performance in the match. It was the only thing that Owen could think to do in order to lessen the embarrassing post game discussion. She thought if she could perform spectacularly enough, it would draw the conversation away from her character model entirely.
[Witchofthew3st: Better get that gun ready, Deacon. I’m going in.]
In one swift motion, Owen jumped, crouched, and then fired a purple energy blast at the wall, sending her flying backwards into the chokepoint. Immediately upon passing the wall to her left that she had used for a boost, she activated [Momentum Redirect] in order to redirect her… well, you know. Despite the name [Momentum Redirect], the ability wasn’t simply a shifting of momentum from one direction to another. It actually provided an initial boost of speed upon activation so that if it was activated without moving, or while moving relatively slowly, it would still have an effect. This meant that while activating the ability at high velocities, much like Owen was, you would gain even more speed than you had before using momentum redirection. Owen shifted her momentum to the side to launch herself at a high vantage point that looked down over the first chokepoint. Usually, a defending team would place either a sniper or a support character up on the vantage point to take advantage of the visibility. Sure enough, as Owen slammed into the wall of the small security tower, she noticed a shimmering form just before her. It was the same shimmering effect that happened when a player’s invisibility was being disrupted, either by taking damage or getting too close to an enemy player.
[Witchofthew3st: Much trouble you are in, Gender Yoda.]
She couldn’t help but quip as she darted forward and fired a blast of purple plasma directly into Castle’s chest, eliminating them in an instant. It wasn’t often that Owen managed to get a one shot kill with the [Gravplaz], but it was always satisfying when it happened. It fired with some of the highest pellet count of any shotgun in the game. Even though the small beams of plasma could hardly be called “pellets”, they functioned just the same as a normal shotgun aside from their unique trait of being able to bounce off of a surface a single time to potentially allow for ricochet shots against targets. At medium range, Owen could reliably deal 150-175 damage with a single shot of the [Gravplaz]. Not enough to kill a base health enemy, but it would always bring them low. This was the reason Owen started to drift away from the [Gravplaz] around a month ago. It was a good shotgun, even perfect in the right match, but the high pellet count and wide spread bothered Owen in a very specific way. With such a high spread and pellet count, you could reliably hit 75-80% of the pellets with any one shot. But you could almost never hit all of the pellets on an enemy unless you were close enough to smell an enemy's breath and criticize their greasy pores. Owen preferred the shotguns with tighter spreads, even some of the slug shotguns the game had, because it allowed her to one shot enemies far more frequently.
But those shotguns lacked an alternate fire that could double as a movement ability, which is why the [Gravplaz] was the money maker for this practice match. Owen had promised to occupy the enemies attention and keep them busy. She wouldn’t just be living in their heads rent free, she would be issuing enough maintenance requests on appliances to keep them busy for weeks on end.
[Witchofthew3st ===> CASTLE]
[Nintendo Femicom: Good fucking pick, Owen!]
The congratulations set deep into Owen’s chest like an internal emblem. It was nice to feel useful for a change. She wasn’t used to letting Aoife down when they played together, but it was all she was able to do when playing as PertinentHorse. Things would be different now; Owen mentally affirmed herself as she looked over the edge of the small tower and down towards the teamfight happening below.
Without having to deal with one of the team’s supports, Deacon found it much easier to plink away at Richie’s health. As soon as Richie activated his [Resurgent Pulse] to regain some of his health that he had lost, Deacon switched targets. It was a smart choice, using the damage stacks of [Rancor] to eliminate one of the other two enemies in around two shots before they could react. With a flick of his off-hand, Deacon activated [Penitent Chains] on Malik, restricting his movement for a second. A second was all he needed to land a headshot, followed by a shot to the back as Malik regained control of his movement. With the vast amount of damage accumulated by stacking headshots on Richie, Malik had gone down before the rest of his team could react.
[Witchofthew3st: Nice! We’ve only got two mor-]
The resounding crack of Aoife’s rifle added yet another kill to the kill feed up in the corner, forcing Owen to backtrack on her words almost immediately upon uttering them.
[Witchofthew3st: Nevermind. Just Steven now.]
It didn’t take long at all to take out Steven. He seemed to acknowledge it as well, choosing not to use up any of his cooldowns to try to escape and instead shooting towards Sarah until he went down. At this level of play it seemed that each player had the game sense to know when and when not to try to take a fight.
[Nintendo Femicom: Fuck yeah! What a good first push! They didn’t last more than 15 seconds in that fight. We can absolutely win this!]
[Sarah6258: That was such a cool move, Owen! I’ve never seen anyone get up to the security tower like that. You’re just a pink blur on the battlefield!]
[Wr4th: Just focus up, everybody. We actually have a chance now, we can’t afford to choke.]
Owen let out an amused scoff to herself, unsure of whether it would be picked up by the microphone or filtered through the noise reduction technology. Even upon winning a teamfight in 15 seconds due to her early pick of Castle, Deacon still refused to congratulate her directly. Though his lack of insults felt like enough of a compliment for Owen as she stood on top of the moving payload.
As she rode the payload through the first hallway and into the large skybridge between the two skyscrapers Owen couldn’t stop thinking about how free she felt. She was playing on her main account, performing movement tech that only Aoife had seen her do until now. It might only last for the next three minutes of the match until it all came crashing down. But until then, Owen could be free to soar past shattering glass in her favorite pink punk visage. She could pretend to be Witchofthew3st until her screen lit up with [VICTORY] or [DEFEAT].
[Witchofthew3st: Time to make it count.]