Chapter 50

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Chapter Fifty

"Sorry..."

"You've said that twelve times already. And as I said, I'm past it."

"You don't sound like it..."

"I am. So, enough."

"Sorry..."

"Ugh... you're so damn obstinate. Will you just shut up and keep walking? I said I'm over it!"

I pouted and dejectedly slumped into Woody's couch, not feeling any better. You see, about six and a half hours had passed since Sebastian and I had started our journey together and we had already experienced our very first bit of unintentional friendly fire.

As it turned out, if a vampire like mine drinks blood from a werewolf player on AC, not only would it do insane damage to their health bar, it would also poison them. I had been absolutely mortified since my well-intended bite had actually killed Sebastian's character.

First twenty minutes of playing together and I already murdered him, I mentally mourned, letting out a disheveled sigh. Not how I expected this to turn out.

On the plus side, friendly fire mishaps didn't activate as a real kill stat until the third murder within a ten minute span, and we'd gotten over forty of his early quests finished and had managed to thwart a multitude of PVP attacks by working together, which as a whole had caught most of our vocal enemies extremely off guard. I could already tell that Sebastian was going to be a monster in close-rage combat since he could hold his own fairly well.

"Oi," he suddenly grunted. "What was your favorite food before you were turned?"

"My favorite food?" I asked, puzzled. "Um... well, depends. We talking breakfast, lunch, or dinner?"

There was a pause before I heard a sullen, "desserts."

I blinked, then smirked to myself with a shake of my head since we'd basically been doing the endless version of twenty questions the entire time we'd been playing. We'd gone back and forth asking each other about our basic interests, likes, and dislikes.

He was making an effort, that much I could tell.

"Ice cream," I said after a time. "I loved ice cream. Specifically, vanilla with chocolate and caramel chunks. It would always make me feel better after a hard day..."

I trailed off, thinking back to those first three years when Kimberly and I had been on our own, two scared kids in an unforgiving world. The part of my life when I was still just a normal person.

Back then, I'd initially dropped out of my sophomore year of high school and done odd jobs here and there to save up enough money to get a roof over our heads. Kim and I had overworked ourselves by singing duets together for cash and basically just doing whatever it took to survive.

She had been attending middle school at the time, too, which had added insane amounts of stress since we'd been hiding from the law. Our mother had been hot on our heels the entire time, trying to get someone to find us and bring us back, but after about three months of being homeless I'd eventually scrounged up about a thousand dollars and rented my apartment.

After that, I'd worked for another three months and saved up to buy myself a laptop computer with a built-in microphone, gotten myself connected to the internet, and then I'd buried myself in making money by recording music. I'd created a kickstarter page explaining how bad our situation was and had even paid extremely popular people on the old website Deviant Art to advertise our plight through multiple art commissions and banners.

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