Logs:Gamer Oppression

Gamer Oppression
Dramatis Personae Dallen, Samuel
In Absentia Bryce, DJ	2025-01-03 "That would be nice...nobody playssssss with me in persssssson becaussssse I am sssssimply too good."
Location <NYC> The Refuge - Staten Island
The swath of destruction that the dimensional anomaly carved here in 2020 has been swept away and transformed into a large compound, practically a neighborhood in its own right. Much of the grounds are given over to meticulously landscaped parkland. Here are manicured gardens abutting half-wild groves, playgrounds and playing fields, a swimming pool as well as a fishing pond, and even a few acres of farmland. The residences, from the founder's house to the miniature arcologies and the slightly larger guesthouse, are styled like abstract beehives. So, for that matter, is the vertical hydroponic farm that produces far more food than the earthbound fields. In fact, there is a great deal of beehive imagery throughout, and even absent specific styling, hexagons are still more common than squares or rectangles in the construction of spaces and objects, all of which are thoughtfully designed with an eye toward community and comfort. At the heart of the Refuge is the meetinghouse that crowns the hill where the 121st Precinct once stood: architecturally distinct from most LDS houses of worship, this one looks from afar like an abstract sculpture of a conch shell in gleaming white quartzite. The floor plan is built on a Fibonacci spiral with a relatively gentle rise in elevation for the first four quarter-arcs before shooting up into a steep organic spire that can be seen for miles around. The guesthouse is a lovely, welcoming home away from home for pilgrims, visiting family and friends, and strangers in need. The central common area that spans all the levels is hexagonal in shape and comfortably appointed in warm earth tones. This level has a respectably sized library, heavy in religious literature Mormon and otherwise, but by no means lacking in other subjects, a computer room, and a cozy study. Dallen steps out of the elevator with a canvas tote over her shoulder. She's wearing a soft pink cardigan over a purple blouse, a long pleated red skirt, and black suede boots, with a very modest touch of make-up. She settles her bag down on a table and takes out its contents to put onto the circulation cart (yes, there's a circulation cart). Samuel finally bit the bullet and took the offer yesterday. It's a place of refuge, and he can't exactly afford to be picky. Hell, he probably shouldn't be wary about these sorts of things regardless. Faith and kindness and all, even if it's different from the faith he was raised with. The DJ guy seemed nice enough, and everyone here's always coming right at him and being like "hi it's wonderful to meet you". All of this...being real? It freaks him out. He's not used to being so noticed, so visible. He yearns for the spotlight, but when everyone's eyes are on him, he freezes. Sammy still feels like he's stuck inside some oversized mascot costume and lost the zipper, like he's been swallowed into a role he didn't audition for. It's just...it's nice to have a bed, but it hasn't made him any less lost. But enough internal monologue. Sammy's sitting at the computer room, opening the computer up to free to play games. He's playing that one game where you make a little dude run and jump over obstacles. Why is he doing this? Because he doesn't know what else to do with himself. Dallen rolls the empty bag up and slips it into her little red purse, then makes a round of the floor in search of things to tidy up (there isn't much), but when she spots Samuel in the computer room she beelines toward him with a bright ready smile. "Hi!" She gives a small, cheerful wave. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, I just want to welcome you to the Refuge. You're Samuel, right?" Samuel pauses the game, and turns his head. The freaky part is how he's got a bit more movement in his neck and head, letting him not have to turn too much. "...That'ssssss me. Why, who'sssssssss assssssking?" He kinda has this downtrodden feel to him. Sitting in front of a computer like this, his slumped body language suggests he's giving up, in some sense or another. Sammy's not even trying to put up a facade today. "Nice to meet you, Samuel!" Dallen seems not even slightly deterred by Samuel's listless state. "I'm DJ and Bryce's sister, Dallen." It's probably not all that surprising she looks nothing like Bryce, but other than appearing to be human, this little Asian teenager bears absolutely not the least resemblance to DJ. "I'm so glad you were able to join us." She tilts her head slightly. "How are you settling in? Is there anything I can help you find?" He would raise an eyebrow at her relation, but being a snake, he no longer has eyebrows. "Uh...well I mean, the sssssleeping accomedations are nice...I like having a place to charge my phone and usssssse computersssss." Samuel pauses on what he could ask for. A dark joke comes to him, but he holds off on it. "Mmm...probably nothing I need to find. Jusssssst..." He looks at his serpentine face in the reflection of the computer screen. "I dunno. Thisssss place....it givessss me ssssshelter, but I don't know if I could call it home." Dallen blinks, her smile slightly immobile, like she's expecting Samuel to say more. When he does not, she blink again, and nods slowly. "I'm sorry. This is the guest house." After these halting sentiments, she lapses back into the fluid eloquence with which she had been speaking before. "We strive to make this place comfortable and welcoming to our visitors, not just in terms of physical needs. Have you had a chance to participate in any of our communal activities?" Samuel isn't quite sure what was up with that. "Ah...well, I haven't participated in many group activitiesssss, no. I'm not ssssssure I'm cut out for thosssssse sssssort of affairsssss." He puts his hands together. "I've never been good with the, uh, human element. Often, I find groupssss are usssssually brought down by my presssssscence, and that thingssssswill go on ssssssmoother without me. Sssssso...I've just kind of been keeping to mysssssself." Dallen nods again, eyes wide and intent. "I'm sorry. That sounds hard." She hesitates, then ventures, a little more quietly, "social skills don't come easily to me, either. Some things take a little more work. Some things take a lot. But the good news is you can ask for help!" He feels a little spike of bitterness in response to her cheeriness. "Ok, sssssso ssssssupposssssse I want help to have more friendsssss. What can you do about it?" Samuel tilts his head. "Playing mussssssical chairsssss can't make me better with people." Dallen gives this very serious consideration. "I don't know about musical chairs, but I think games are really helpful for making friends." Her pause is less like hesitation this time, and when she continues it's slow but not halting. "Games have simpler rules than life. Even really complicated games. Sometimes when you're playing a game with other people, you can use some of the game rules instead of some life rules that you aren't good at." She nods to herself, as if confirming what she said makes sense (to her, anyway). "Maybe you need to try some new games." “…I’m open to gamesssss, if they’re fun.” He thinks back to Sunday school, and many of the awkward “group activities” that he felt never really brought him closer to anyone. “Do you have any….video gamessssss? I’m quite ssssskilled in that field.” Slightly more energy in his movements when talking about that. He’s never had much online prescence due to the strict social media ban, but he’s considering opening an apex account…he’d really like to know more people, and computers are easier then face to face. Nobody can see your face online. "The game room downstairs has so many fun board games." Dallen is looking cautiously encouraged at this sign of liveliness. "And video games. That's a great way to hang out with people. I like to play Mario Kart and Overcooked and Splatoon even though I'm not good at those." She tilts her head and considers. "I like to watch my brother play Dead Cells and Hades and Hollow Knight. I'm even worse at those but they're fun to watch. And then you can talk to people about the game, if you're watching them play. Or if they're watching you play." He swivels the chair around to face dallen, now looking a little more cautiously optomistic. "...I'm open to that. I'm sssssomething of a gamer, though I haven't done much couch co-op." Samuel begins to lift himself out of the chair, carefully adjusting his tail to get himself upright. It's not obvious yet, but he's been really trying to practice standing up and moving around. "Do you want to try to play a game with me? I promisssssse I can go easssssy." "Couch. Co-op." Dallen trails off and looks at Samuel kind of blankly. Maybe she's distracted watching Samuel get up, or maybe she's just really enjoying the phrase 'couch co-op', because she mouths it silently a few more times. But when he clarifies she nods decisively. "Oh! Yes, we can do that. Maybe there will be other people who want to play, too. You don't have to go easy." She smiles again. "I do a lot of couch co-op." "That would be nice...nobody playssssss with me in persssssson becaussssse I am sssssimply too good." He begins to slither forward, slowly but with increased stability from last time. "If you intend to play ssssssomething competitively with me, you musssssst be aware of thisssss factoid." A slight smugness appears on his face. Dallen tips her head sideways and looks up -- and up, and up -- at Samuel. "But." That's as much as she gets out for the space of a couple of breaths. "How do you know that if nobody plays with you? And why do I need to know that?" Neither of these questions sound like challenges, and she seems more confused than skeptical, really. When she remembers to smile again it's just as innocent and friendly as it was before. "I don't know how you can be 'too good' at a game." Samuel's tail droops. "...My father. He ussssssed to play thissssss game with me...a fighting game. Then one day, I got too good. Wasssss better then him, winning all the time. He no longer ssssssaw a point in playing with me, and didn't like it when i went easssssy on him. Had to play alone from then on." He shakes his head. "I do not wissssssh for ssssssuch a thing to happen again." "Oh no!" Dallen stares up at Samuel, unguarded astonishment written on her face. "I'm sorry. That doesn't sound very loving or Christlike at all. So he just didn't let you play with anyone else, either?" She presses the down button when they get to the elevator. "I don't think that means you were too good at the game. I think that means your dad was a...sore loser." "No. I could play with other people. It'ssssss jussssst that when you asssssk ssssssomeone "Hey, wanna come play video gamesssss at my place", the ansssswer isssss ussssually no. Family'sssss eassssier becaussssse they can't avoid you." He wraps his tail around himself, unconsciously squeezing like he's hugging himself...or perhaps its an expression of frustration? Or maybe it's self loathing? "I didn't have anything to offer anyone, and I wasssssn't much like them. Ssssssso I didn't have many friendssssss over...and I wassssssn't exactly invited to a lot of partiessssss." Samuel pauses, looking at Dallen. "...Honesssssstly, I think you're kind of young to really get it. You sssssseem like you're usssssed to thingsssss being easssssy." Dallen opens her mouth, but whatever she was about to say just sticks in place. It's only after a long struggle and having gotten on the elevator when it arrived that she finally says, "I am kind of young." She wraps her arms around herself, each hand tucked under the opposite arm. "I'm sorry things have been hard for you. But you're not there anymore. People here play games with you because they like to play games. We're all children of Heavenly Parents who love us and want us to learn and grow." She smiles encouragingly. "Even if we get better than They are, some day. But if it makes you feel any better, I don't mind losing."