New quests!

John woke to the sound of his alarm clock playing the incessantly annoying song that could reliably **** him out of bed. He tried to ignore the tone-deaf singer and their catastrophe of a band, but eventually rolled over and hit the clock's off button. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself up from the comfort of his sheets and looked at the time. 8:20 AM, he'd overslept by ten minutes. That would cut his morning routine a bit short, since he'd have to rush to get to the shower. John grumbled under his breath as he started getting ready, every day he skipped getting off before school always ended badly.

He blearily undressed and started pulling on new underwear and pants when something dawned on him. There was a better way to do this, wasn't there? Memories rushed back as the haze of sleepiness was swept away: yesterday's events, his Character Sheet, and... floating in the middle of his room was a new window.

John slowly started to grin. There was a part of him that hadn't believed the previous day's events were real, but here was evidence, and what evidence it was. A bounty of experience and other goodies just waiting to be collected. True, he didn't really know how to do either of the optional objectives, and the idea of facing another poltergeist was disconcerting... but 595 experience. It was impossible to turn down.

The quest disappeared as soon as he hit accept, so John went back to getting ready. He dressed properly this time, throwing the clothes into his inventory and feeling them materialize on his body. Just because he could, he switched to his armor and back before heading to the bathroom. He'd need to be quick, since his mom would be up soon and if she got into the shower he'd never get a chance to use it.

First thing, he turned on the shower, so it'd warm up, and brushed his teeth while waiting. He took the chance to examine his reflection. Despite the significant increase in Charisma he'd obtained, he didn't look any different. John was a bit disappointed, but at the same time relieved. He hadn't been rendered unrecognizable by an increase in stats.

That relief was tested the moment he stripped down to get in the shower. John had never been pudgy, but he wasn't exactly fit either, or hadn't been. Since yesterday, he'd toned up considerably and could even see a faint outline of abdominal muscle. The same improvements had been extended to his arms, where the lean muscle was more prominent. He could actually flex now, though he wouldn't be winning any weight lifting competitions. Perhaps more important than anything else, however, was the difference between his legs. 20% felt a lot bigger than he'd have guessed.

Overall, it was strange to look at himself now, but it was also still his body. John appreciated it.

He showered quickly and efficiently, taking as little time as possible, and, as he was toweling off, there was a knock at the door.

"John! I need to take a shower, could you please let me use the bathroom?" his mother asked.

"Give me a second. I'll be right out."

John threw his clothes back on as quickly as he could and unlocked the door. The moment he did, he was nearly bowled over by his frantic mother. Her breasts lessened the impact, but the **** still staggered him back against the sink. She pushed past as John recovered and he blinked at her almost naked body. An ill-fitting towel was the only thing preserving any dignity; John looked away as his mother jumped in the shower.

"You'll have to make yourself something for breakfast, oh I'm going to be so late..." his mother said, before focusing solely on getting clean.

John nodded dumbly and closed the door behind him without a reply. His brain was preoccupied with other thoughts. It was an undeniable fact that Brenda Newman was attractive, but she was his mom. Conflicted feelings ran through him at the memory of her naked ass and the feeling of her breasts against his face, and John shuddered slightly. He was not okay with where those thoughts led. Maybe food would help.

One of the many upgrades John wished his interface had was access to the internet. As he sat at the kitchen table alone, eating a bowl of dry cereal, he browsed the news on his phone. It was a pretty mindless task, but he still wished he could open half a dozen pages with a thought instead of having to scroll through them with his fingers. The police seemed no closer to solving the case of the mysterious disappearances, and politics were the same as usual, contention over the new president. John decided to browse some gaming forums instead. One of the bigger companies, Hailstorm, was having their annual conference, and the deluge of new releases and data were a pleasant distraction. The expansion to their flagship product Globe of Battleart might even get him back into the game. Though it would have to be seriously fun to distract him from The Game.

John's phone buzzed, alerting him to the bus' impending arrival. He downed the rest of his cereal and sprinted for the door. When he got there, he reached out to grab his backpack from next to the doorway and stopped when his fingers passed through nothing but air. John groaned loudly as he remembered; he'd left the bag in the barrier the day before. It was gone, and he'd have to figure out what to do about the missing textbooks and other contents.

The bus wasn't going to wait for him to berate himself though, and John ran out to catch it without his things, taking the first open seat he saw and delving into contemplation about the day ahead. It was Tuesday, which meant he had math, an open period, civics, lunch, sociology, another open period, programming, and then theater. He had all his remaining textbooks in his locker and could probably store them in his inventory if nobody saw him switching them in and out...
John was so deep in thought that he didn't pay attention to any of the other students getting on the bus, nor where they sat, until someone took the seat next to him. In all the months he'd attended Ashcroft, John could count on one hand the number of times it'd happened, and this came as a complete surprise. He looked up in a mixture of curiosity and dread, half expecting it to be Frank or one of his goons. Instead, it was Erica, the tall blonde from the day before.

The tall... high-level... berserker...

He froze, mind falling into a panic spiral. He was on a bus, in a public place. She wouldn't... but then what did she want anyway? To silence him about what he saw? Could he get out of this situation? John's fingers closed on the invisible hilt of his whip, halfway to calling it into his hand when she spoke.

"Relax. You're John, right? John Newman?" she dropped his name as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "I found your bag."

John opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but faltered when she mentioned having his backpack. "Oh, okay. What do you want?"

"Dude, I'm not going to hurt you or anything." She seemed upset; his tone must have been harsher than he'd intended, "I just was curious. I've never seen you 'out there' before and thought I'd say hi." Erica got up to change seats and John reached out to grab her sleeve.

"Wait, I'm sorry." He waited till she sat down and continued, "I'm still new to this whole... thing, and you startled me. God, this probably sounds insane, but when I get attacked by a bunch of chairs and a ghost and then an armored girl yells at me? I freak out."

Erica nodded sagely, "I get that. First time I had to fight, I nearly got my head bitten off by a troll. Seems like you handled yourself well enough. My name's Erica by the way. Erica Carpenter." She looked him up and down, deep in thought.

"What?"

"I'm trying to guess. You're a bit too scrawny to be a fighter-type, but Moira's Order keeps close tabs on any local mages. I'd have heard of you if you were one... Who's training you?"

"I'm sorry. What?" John asked in bewilderment.

"You said you were new, so who're you studying under? Please tell me you're not a Cabal member or the Witch's apprentice or something, I just met you."

Cabal? The Witch?

John was more than lost and opted for the only answer he could reasonably give: the truth. "Nobody's training me. I woke up yesterday with a bunch of new powers and have no idea what's going on. I don't even know how I got into that situation yesterday."

"Yeah right, come on..." Erica examined his genuine expression, and her eyes widened, "You're serious. No kidding?"

He nodded, "Yeah. No kidding."

A longer silence followed, during which she stared at him a bit too intently for John's liking. Whatever she saw, it caused her to whistle softly.

"Alright, I believe you. Though you have no idea how rare you are, I've only met one other late bloomer like you." She grinned and some of the tension seemed to fade away. "So, what can you do?"

John hesitated. He'd already given up more information than he meant, caught up in the girl's seemingly genuine curiosity and friendly manner. Would it be safe to tell her everything? She... seemed nice.

"Well?"

He decided. He needed allies, or at least some information. John pulled up his Character Sheet, and watched as nothing changed in Erica's posture or attitude. It confirmed that she couldn't see it, so he tried to explain things as best he could, "I'm not really sure. I have a couple of spells and fighting skills, but mostly I just learn stuff. How do I put this..."

She waited patiently for him to finish, but there was a growing look of confusion on her face.

"If I do something or read the right book, I can learn skills from it. Dodgeball gave me a boost to my evasion and I picked up a few things from a physics textbook too..." He saw that Erica wasn't getting it and tried a different approach, "I can see titles above people's heads. Like a video game. Exactly like a video game. You're a berserker for example, and I'm 'the Gamer'. If that makes sense."

Erica shook her head and ran a hand over her loose hair. "Let me get this straight. You can learn anything?"

"I don't know, maybe?"

"...And you can see what people are at a glance? What's her 'title' say?" Erica pointed at a random student.

"Level four student?"

John winced as the berserker girl made a face at nothing in particular and crossed her arms.

"Well that's just unfair! I don't even have the faintest clue what you are, dude." She continued to glare into space and John couldn't help but admit it looked a bit cute. "Why couldn't I have gotten that?"

He tried to assuage her frustration, "Maybe I just haven't picked what I am yet."

It must have been the wrong answer, because Erica turned to face him with a somber expression. "John, most people don't get to pick. They just are." There was something more there, but she didn't say it and John didn't pry. "Anyway," she started again, a bit awkwardly, "we'll have to continue this later. When are you free?"

Sure enough, the conversation had taken up their ride to Ashcroft, and the other students were busy gathering up their things to get off the bus. John considered her question. He hardly knew Erica, but he'd already told her everything, and she did have his bag.

Also, she's nice... and hot.

John decided. He needed an ally, and this might be the best chance he'd get. If things went poorly he could always Hearth out.

"Second period, I'll be free then."

"Great. Meet me in the courtyard. See you then!" as she spoke, Erica hefted her bag with an audible clink. Then she was gone, a blur of blonde hair that ducked off the bus and vanished into the crowd beyond.

Maybe today won't be so bad after all...