Chapter 9
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Question marks and bleeding hearts.
Dear Citrus,
I’ve heard the news of all you’ve been accomplishing so quickly! I knew I had a good feeling about you, but I never could have anticipated this!
Kaolin and Muskov tell me you’ve been delivering produce to the store. Slate mentioned that you braved the mines yesterday. And what you’ve done for Laumon and Neptun??
Gabbro has informed me that he should be finished making something livable for them by week’s end. That wouldn’t be possible if you hadn’t gathered and delivered everything he needed for the majority of the project in a fraction of the time it would have taken him to haul everything out himself.
I know this isn’t much and it is far less than the expenses your services have spared us, but please accept these few coins as a token of my gratitude.
Now, I hate to abuse your generosity, especially since you’re doing so well on your own, but could I petition your aid on something else? The storm and subsequent flooding that we experienced recently was unprecedented, and there is still so much to do.
If you’d be willing to help with another supply and delivery issue, come talk to me.
Sincerely,
Lord Lazul
Not thrilled that by opening my mail I’ve opened a new quest, but I am happy to see the two gold coins tumble out of the envelope.
Given my irresponsible bribery purchases at Chrysa’s as of late, my savings was getting too low for comfort.
Having to purchase food is a pain. Needing to eat is a pain.
Boo, realism mod. Boo.
I sigh.
Once I get my next harvest, I would have been heading toward the black with or without Lazul’s letter, but it’s annoying that reality is limiting my ability to milk the mines for resources I can sell.
I need a glow ring if I’m going to toy with the idea of soloing anything down there, and there’s no way I reach the more lucrative lower levels until I get topaz to Aurelia and start fixing the elevator.
There’s just not enough time in a day to climb down, then back up, dozens of ladders while clearing out monsters on each floor. And, in case it needs to be said, I’d really rather not discover what the underground breathing like a beast overnight looks like up close
In the game, glow rings are purchased for a thousand coins from Mimet the traveling merchant or found at a low percentage in the loot table of mine chests between layers twenty and seventy-five.
There is no way in the world I survive reaching those layers without a light source. And there is also no way in the world my begging charisma works to get Samson to accompany me on a speedrun.
For starters, the man is heckishly careful.
And for enders, I will die of embarrassment if I say pretty please to him while attempting to take advantage of my cuteness.
Game quests are so straightforward.
Real life quests with five hundred subquests are killing me.
Despondent, I open the next letter in my modest stack of neglected correspondence.
It’s from Neptun, including the “thank you for helping fix his house” recipe and a reminder that I can purchase his special blessed seasoning at the tavern.
In the game, his seasoning allows homemade meals to replenish health, not just energy.
Pity I can’t really do anything with recipes or magic salt dust without a kitchen, huh?
Yeah, by the time I’m supposed to have completed the Rehoming the Sea Boys quest, I should have been able to upgrade my farmhouse to have a kitchen, and it shows.
Or.
Well.
Wait.
Right.
I just remembered. With the realism mod, I don’t actually need a kitchen in order to toss fancy salt on a freshly-grown cucumber.
So maybe Neptun’s ad is relevant. I rescind my sass.
The final letter is from Laumon, Neptun’s roommate, AKA the fisher poet who spends his days dreaming over a bobber and penning sonnets into the margins of his books.
His thrilling dialogue includes treats like: I love fishing and I hope Mimet brings new books with her on Sunday.
Yawn.
I mean, he’s sweet. And pretty for a fisherman character, but the dev had Samson available and squandered that honor to write a romance arc for a guy about as interesting as laminated paper.
Come on.
He’s named after a secondary mineral in basalt, for crying out loud. Basalt. Laumontite—an element in basalt—dehydrates into white powder, which I guess explains why he’s set by the ocean, but that is the most interesting rock fact I have for a secondary component of basalt.
Not huffy at all, I scan his neat penmanship.
Citrus,
Come see me when you get the chance. Neptun and I lost a lot in the storm, but I’ve found an old fishing pole you can have if you’d like. I’ll even show you how to use it if you’re interested.
It’s not much as thanks for all you’ve done for us, but know we’re both here for you however we can be.
Lau
The first paragraph is classic come get the fishing tutorial over with script. The second part, however, is a direct result of my existence as a freewill party in this narrative. How terrifying to know that someday my cheat codes will run out and I’ll have to navigate the world without them.
Tucking the new letters into the back of my journal with the other from Lazul, I check on my quest page.
Visit Lazul.
Learn how to fish from Laumon.
If fishing involves worms and realistic wait times, I will kindly pass. Shame. Fishing is normally one of my favorite minigames. Not a bad source of quick independent money either, since my access to the mines relies on Samson.
Speaking of Samson.
Fluttering my lashes, I speak to the pages of my journal, “Can we add a Marry Samson quest to the list?”
No.
I pout. “How about the next step in securing a heart event with him then?”
Check the relationship page.
Eager, I flip right to his beautiful profile, innocently hopeful that I’ll find the heart outline that indicates a romanceable character beside my Samson’s name.
I do not.
I also do not find the eight usual empty friendship hearts that act as placeholders for the basic relationship events that all characters have.
Instead, I find a slew of question marks above his biography, which reads:
Samson: grumpy farmer next door, retired adventurer, certified recluse.
Mm.
Insightful.
I return to the quest page. “You hate me, don’t you?”
Not at all.
“He hates me, doesn’t he? This crossover UI isn’t made to show negative heart events, so it’s glitching out, isn’t it?
” I sag on my bed. “My tendency to visit when the poor guy is clothing-impaired has sent his opinion of me plummeting. I am distraught. How much chocolate do you think it’s going to take to fix this? Am I going to go bankrupt?”
If I could roll my eyes at you…
“You said you’d guide me. I’ll take care of my quests first thing tomorrow morning. Promise. But you must understand that not getting any help with the love of my life damages morale.”
I understand.
“So…? Where’s the quest that results in Samson falling madly in love with me?”
If a book could sigh, I think my journal would. You are of a very one-track mind.
“I am focused on my goals.” I cross my ankles, prettily, and push my glasses up my cute, freckled nose. “That was on my resume. Until I realized it was giving over-qualified.”
Took it off.
And, bam, got my job at Hardee’s.
Life is a joke.
To further the punchline, my journal takes a sharp left away from my Samson narrative: Just so you know, there is a crafting page with recipes that you can make by collecting the materials and pulling the finished item from your bag the same way you summon anything else you dump in there.
It’s painful waiting for you to find that feature on your own.
“What?” I blurt, flipping forward until I find a list of available crafting recipes.
My eye twitches. “You couldn’t have told me this sooner?
I’ve been keeping stuff in piles on the floor because I haven’t been able to make myself spend three hundred coins for a chest at Gabbro’s carpentry shop, and you’ve just let me? ”
You have no trouble spending hundreds of coins on treats for Samson.
“You take his name off your page,” I hiss. I do not need sass from a book. “I’m in love.”
You’re in love with an idea and a couple hundred generic lines of dialogue, Citrus.
This isn’t a dream or a game. There isn’t a quest to Samson’s heart.
Being infatuated and trying to become what you think he wants, acting like you just need the right gifts or dialogue options isn’t fair to either of you.
You can’t play a real person into loving you.
Worse, you shouldn’t.
In real life, buying affection just because it’s quicker is a bad idea that results in a fickle relationship.
Since you don’t seem to understand the magnitude of this situation yet, let me explain: there’s an entire world past Gem Ridge full of people you’ve never seen drawn with pixels.
There’s a depth to everything and everyone that goes beyond what you’ve gleaned from your obsession with Vale of Gems.
You can do anything. Go anywhere.
Be anyone.
So, why are you choosing to stay here?
Um. Duh. “Have you not seen the shoulders on my neighbor? They have me in a headlock I wish was literal.”
Heh. You’re a delight, Citrus.
Trust me, being yourself isn’t going to give you negative heart events here.
It might just get you everything you’ve been searching for instead.
All you have to do is let yourself embrace that reality.
I’m being schooled by parchment.
I know why I’m staying here. It’s not Samson. It’s the familiarity. The safety. Here is where I know the people and the map, the quests, the exposition.
I crave that kind of predictability.
I dread losing it someday once the plot I know runs out and I’m left floundering, trying to figure out how I fit in without a script to fall back on.
Being a person without a script has never, ever, been good for me before.
I never was built for reality, with its overwhelming cast and endless change.
If I’m not built for this world that I know so well, I don’t know what I’ll do.
My journal told me to help the people in this community that I love.
It did not promise that I’d learn how to belong here.
It did not promise that this community would love me back if I gave it no reason to.
As it stands, I’m in love with a 2D image and allowing my obsession to dictate everything I do without recognizing that one-way dialogue and pixelated shoulders isn’t a person.
If I want to honor the fact that Samson is a person—that everyone here is real—I can’t keep letting mere infatuation based on assumption and maladaptive fanfiction fuel my actions. But…if that’s not what I let motivate me, then…
What will?