Gorbachev Report on "the Gamer" #002

Tricia cleared her throat, and leaned back into the false chair at the center of her lab. It felt good to be connected to her lab again, yet strange to have neither her suit nor her limiters as a layer between her and the sensation of the stems that made up the floor reaching up to cradle her body. Her plainclothes felt alien against her actual skin, and the color of her sunless skin made it feel like she was observing a cadaver wrapped in her clothing. She suppressed a shudder. The drones had repaired her choker, but it felt like a tiny, dead weight without her limiters or suit. She had grown accustomed to it as the fit embrace of security...

... now it felt more like weighted shackle. "Curious..."

"Hmm?" John sat across from her in the simple loveseat that rose from the floor, adjusting himself on the uncomfortable, rock-solid furniture. As well as she designed the lab, it only afforded her any comfort. The scrubs felt no more comfortable now than they did an hour ago, but he offered no complaint.

"Ah, nothing... I'm just... getting used to it."

Following her shower, she had very curtly requested a second interview, a second round of experiments with his magic... and, unspoken in her demands, more time before he departed. Even now she looked conflicted... but her suit remained undeployed, and her self-control seemed stable, although the new, closed Eye now seemed a permanent fixture on her head. As John contemplated it, it opened once again, casting that nebulous effect on Tricia. He looked her details over once again, trying to recollect precisely how it had changed.

Tricia Gorbachev
Level 13 Scythian Channeler
<Gorbachev Opekuny>
HP 240 / 240
MP 880 / 880
Stats: Str 10 Agi 10 End 10 Int 74 Wis 14 Cha 14 Lib 18
Status Effects: Eye of Gorbachev (Thagimasidas), Calm of Thagimasidas
Qualities: Gorbachev
The daughter of a normal couple in Wisconsin who was disowned by her immediate family at a young age and trained in the ways of the Gorbachev too late to render good, effective control of her emotional development. She has denied herself using technology she developed with her prodigious intellect until recently, when the Gamer brought a rapid onset of development. She now possesses all of her Eyes, but remains a masterless apprentice of the same.
Relationship: +200

Calm of Thagimasidas: a calming effect that further neutralizes emotions until they reach a desired equilibrium. Duration based on stress; if the Eye of the First Truth is active, it will be re-cast on running out as long as it is casting no other effects.

A class change, and the way the new Eye works...

The Gorbachev spoke in a clear voice to no one in particular. "Recording has begun for Report #43-Neo-Delta-002, codename 'The Gamer'."

Wait, it just re-cast, so does that mean she's uncomfortable?

"How does your hand feel?" she suddenly asked. Holographic screens erupted around her, and even reading them in reverse John immediately knew these to be her records of him.

He raised his right hand; she had shot it with her Eye after his teasing about her smell less than an hour ago. Oddly enough, he felt more guilty about how horrified she seemed; he was quick then to confirm what he showed now. "It's whole, same as when you..." Don't say "shot it," you idiot. "... well, it's fine, really."

"I'm sorry... I... overreacted."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a wave.

"Which leads me to my query: how do you understand the magic that's warding your body?"

John cocked his head as he thought about it. "Well, I... huh. I've taken it for granted as a passive until now... and it doesn't work all the time..." Tricia flinched; the memory of Yarrick was only two days old. Two days prior to that was Moira's torso-crushing blow to the same teen. "... but I do take HP damage, like I said before."

"Yes, you mentioned that... and you mentioned that food, water, sleep, and the like don't seem to have any effect beyond buffs for these values-"

"Ah, not sleep." She stared at him. "I don't... um, sleep anymore."

She typed away. "Insomnia? Narcolepsy?"

"No, I'm just... immune now."

"What... what do you mean immune?"

"It's uh... I unlocked paragon- well, they're like the talent trees from Globe of Gorecraft? So I don't need to sleep anymore-"

"John," she asked in an increasingly concerned voice, her fingers dancing on the interfaces at the same, hurried pace, "when was the last time you slept?"

"Eh... Wednesday night?" Quietly she tapped away, and one of the scanner drones from above swooped in and began pulsing blue light at the back of John's head. "Hey- I mean, I feel fine, honest."

"I don't doubt your report," she carefully said, "but like the inviolability of your body, the seemingly infinite ability to have sex and ejaculate, the-"

"Oh, that's another passive."

"... and the complete lack of somatic or verbal components for your magic... if we could call it magic, given how it fails to register on any sense or device I have available. In any case, this only furthers some of the theories I'm developing."

"Theories?"

"About your 'Game' as you call it... rather, the unnatural effects that you can render that resemble, but deviate from, known sorceries and magical manifestations."

John motioned to himself with a confident smirk. "Any you can tell me?"

Tricia paused, and then motioned the screen between them aside. "What do you mean?"

"The theories! I barely understand this whole Abyss thing, the Brightons, the mages we've fought... I've been in it for a week, and there's no patch notes, no tutorial..." John leaned on his knees as he looked at her expectantly.

"These are hardly settled facts, John; as is, you are the first of your kind insofar as I can ascertain from my recordings, and you bear similarities to a disparate few that have no cross-section."

"Tricia, I don't... look. I don't have anything else to go on, and it's become pretty clear that I should start figuring this out. Until now, I haven't known anyone 'in the know' that I could really trust to help me with that... and... I think I can trust you. Right?"

"R-Right." Tricia bit her lip, and John reveled in how easily her pale skin blushed. "I... would normally withhold these theories, because they can be... unsettling, as things in this world often are for laymen."

"Lay them on this layman."

"I... alright. Well, I have three theories at present." The screens around her vanished, and three green line-gridded screens appeared to surround John where he sat. A caricature of a naked male, simplified down to an 8-bit character with a smiley icon for a head and an unusually large penis, appeared in the first screen. "This is you." John suppressed a chuckle. "Shut up."

"Sorry!"

"Theory #1." A virtual robe scrolled down to clothe the man, and his bald, featureless head sprouted long gray hairs and a beard. "You're a homunculus surrogate body for a potent archmage. There are two likely scenarios under this theory: either you're meant to admit him to the real world, because his nature or actions have otherwise barred his entry, or you are meant to serve as a vessel to store him in the event of his biological . Once either trigger has begun, it would be reasonable to assume that the process may take some time: slowly, the transfer of his power and knowledge to you would progress, perhaps rendering anomalous spellcasting where the effect arrives before the cause." Another cartoon-John appeared next to the old man, and the latter's eyes turned into giant "X" marks. Slowly, the robe and beard vanished from the first to reappear on the second, frowning John. Real John swallowed hard; something about the theory felt familiar, or perhaps frightening enough to raise his paranoia. "These sad creatures, known as Effigies, slowly lose their identities as they gain the power and knowledge of their creators, never realizing or expressing the real, remote source and method of their abilities until they're completely subsumed and, as far as notable psychomancers have ever been able to discover, annihilated upon the archmage's completed transfer."

"... Psychomancer?"

"Yes: mages with a specialty in memory-editing, mind control, and similarly dangerous arts. As you can imagine, of course, there are as few as two accounts I've been able to find in the Gorbachev databases-"

"... So, not telemancy?"

Tricia raised an eyebrow. "What is 'telemancy'?"

"N... Nevermind..."

She shook her head, and the second screen began to animate. "Theory #2." Cartoon-John appeared anew, this time dressed in an academy uniform, again simplified and pixelated. Above his head, badly drawn clouds appeared. "Like the Gorbachevs who worship Gaia, and the Brightons who worship the Lady, and all the other Orders and Cults dedicated to gods or demiurges, you have been chosen and granted incredible powers." The crappy clouds parted, and a smiling, large-breasted woman appeared as beams of rainbow energy rained down on Cartoon-John, making his body erupt in uniform-tearing muscles and placing a noticeable bulge in his pants. "Your powers, albeit poorly understood, are divinely gifted, and through that divinity are given some other limitations or purpose that have not been made clear to you by a remote and/or flippant god. Your powers, your existence, your lack of understanding... all of it alludes not to the bending of reality, as what defines traditional magical theory, or the transformation of reality, as is the purview of beings known as 'Outsiders,' but instead to an alteration by reality, where your will, or whatever operates its will through you, is reality itself."

"So... blessing from Gaia?"

"There are several powerful manifestations in the Abyss that grant power to their avatars or champions... but neutrality aside: yes, Gaia. Further, mere 'gods' as they may call themselves, while divinely powerful, have never made any showing, that I have access to, of powers such as yours... and certainly not in the format of a JRPG."

John nodded, taking in both theories, and hoping strongly for the latter. He glanced at the blank third screen, and then back to Tricia expectantly.

"That's... theory #3, but it relies on the idea that nothing would be able to detect or identify your magic; it is a fallacy to rely on proving a negative."

"Well, what's the negative here?"

"Well... theory #3." The new Cartoon-John appeared... and his pixels slowly emptied out, fading blip by blip until only the black silhouette remained. "You are... not real."

John raised an eyebrow.

"Essentially, you are not actually part of reality, or at least not a truly incorporated part thereof. Like Theory #2, this 'non-existence' gives you undue influence over reality, much like Outsider entities over theoretical spacetime. Your body does not relate to a normal existence because it does not suffer one; your body does not bend to reality until that reality is so harsh, or so undeniable, that it may even reach your unique status, whatever that might be. Because you are not here, you are also rendered immune to many limitations of magic, and sometimes even the influences of magic so long as it does not pass these video game-like representations of your limits."

"... I see." John stared at the empty void, stunned, and then took every horrible possibility in, one after the other. "Not... nothing particularly hopeful, huh..."

Tricia's face reddened. "I-I mean, these are... I cautioned you against taking these as anything more than what they are. So please-"

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I appreciate it." John a smile, and tried not to think about these new existential crises that the smartest person he knew presented.

"I... I'm sorry. Truly, these are very weak, very early theories."

"I get it!" A pause. "... Wait, so I'm a shell for some super powerful wizard somewhere, a messiah, or not real?"

"Well, 'messiah' attaches theological significance where I did not-"

"Can't I just be... y'know... a really good wizard?"

Tricia stared wide-eyed at John, and her face slowly twisted.

"Wh-"

Tricia sputtered, hunched over... and began to rock in her morphing chair as a fit of giggles overtook her. "Pfffft.... pfft haaaahaahaahaha!"

John watched quietly as she went on for twenty beats before, with small gasps for air, she apologized.

Two hours later...

"... negative," Tricia sighed. Again John shrunk his hand back to its regular size, ending the last attempt on the Gorbachev's part to try and trace an origin of his effects. "There is simply no spectrum upon which this registers as anything other than a sudden, unexplained growth of human tissue... with vascular changes occurring perfectly with them. There isn't even anything connected between that and the drone you're floating- ah, you can put him down now." John slowly moved the vacuum drone back down to solid ground, and watched as it quickly scurried away. They had spent an hour working through his skill and perk list, and Tricia had quietly documented the interface as he described it.

The two stood in the wide-open center of the lab, and had carefully moved the sleeping, balled-up form of Lily onto Tricia's bed. (She made secret notifications for the drones to burn the bed after the demon's departure.) The Gorbachev reviewed her outline as it floated nearby. "So that leaves barrier creation... and what you believe is not barrier creation."

John nodded, though his frustration was clear. "So you're telling me that... all that stuff I've been told, about Kingdoms, about Thrones, the Dream... you're not believing any of it?"

"It's a matter of fact, not belief," Tricia corrected. "There are some parallels between permanent barriers and their anchoring enchantments, attributes which could serve functions similar to these 'Kingdoms' and 'Thrones,' and both claim their origin from Infinity Gemstones, strengthening the possibility that these are mere euphemisms. But that is where the similarities end. Studies, empirical and magical, have been carried out by many generations, and the results have always amounted to the same where they were not later disproven: the Abyss is all-encompassing, possesses attributes that reflect some root in the human psyche, and, while its origin and complete range is not yet proven, it certainly cannot be considered 'real' in the same way any matter, being, or energy from our known universe is 'real.' They are physical, yes, and given certain conditions may be expressed into the real world... but the creation of a barrier gives rise to Abyssal existences. The opposite has never been observed. The same concerns your... manifestations, attached to them as you may be."

There was a note of jealousy there, John was sure, but the challenge to the very existence of the likes of Tita and Alysha made his question too pressing. "So... what does that make all the half-elf babies I... um..."

"John, you had me nurse from one pregnant Abyssal manifestation while you anally pleasured another. By your own admission, you've impregnated more beings this week than there are days, sometimes by means not supported by any scientific understanding of human biology, and have more expected children than most Springfield neighborhoods have inhabitants. I believe we can and should overcome any awkwardness of your propensity for procreation, especially because of how not upset I am that you chose to let them continue being the mothers of your young while you took away mine."

John's eyes widened.

"... That was not a passive-aggressive comment."

Tricia casts the Eye of the First Truth on herself! A calm washes over her.

She's really bad at this... "I told you, I can just put it back..."

Tricia crossed her arms, and raised her nose at him. "No. It would be unfair to pressure you into fatherhood."

John narrowed his eyes at that. Oh yeah?

Acquisition successful.

"Alright, you're pregnant again."

"W-What?!"

"I don't feel any pressure. Do you feel any pressure?"

Tricia casts the Eye of the First Truth on herself! A calm washes over her.

"N-No!"

"I can take it out again, if you ask."

His grin made Tricia retreat a step. "S-So... if I don't ask... you'll... you'll want me to... to give birth to our child?"

John shrugged, continuing the act. "We're married. That's what married people do, right? I mean, unless you're not ready-"

I am not ready. Pregnancy is a catastrophic hormonal event that causes permanent changes and/or damages, creates a fiscal responsibility, a time investment responsibility, and legal responsibilities for which my work has neither prepared me nor shaped itself to become accustomed. My planned thesis on the cellularly erosive effects of healing magic on in-utero subjects is suddenly keenly ironic, but this is unacceptable. I must refuse. I must submit and admit that I, too, am not ready. This is insanely irresponsible and cannot be tolerated. There is no logical basis to accept, merely a matter of personal pride that cannot warrant such folly. I should just admit I was wrong to say that. I am not ready. "I am absolutely ready." Tricia, what are you doing, please, stop. She a trembling smile past her trainwreck of thoughts.

"Uh... huh?" John raised an eyebrow as he observed the trembling, glistening-eyed Gorbachev. Maybe I went a bit too far there... "I-It's fine, I'll just take it back."

"If you... yes. Of course. If that is what you wish, I mean. But I was absolutely ready." I do not particularly believe in a female-aspected demiurge of alleged benevolence and creation wherein no evidence exists to suggest it, but... thank Gaia.

Acquisition successful.

With the would-be baby back in his inventory, John cleared his throat and looked about with the Eye of the King. "Well, there's still no indicators for a Kingdom to bridge to-"

"Permanent barrier," Tricia corrected as she regained her composure, "and I would suspect not; there are wards in place to advise of any barriers raised within one mile of my laboratory."

"Well, there's just the parsing spell..." John looked around the lab. "It would be a pretty condensed little dungeon, given the space..."

"Go ahead and create it then," Tricia sighed as she began to undress. John happily stared, to which the Gorbachev managed a blush despite all they'd been through. "I'm just going to turn on my suit, for protection."

"You... oh, you want to go into it?"

"Of course. Aside from studying the differences in barrier structure, I'm curious to see you engage in combat." She slid her panties down, standing at profile as if it helped her decency. "I will not engage unless it is necessary, so that I may bolster and notate the drone reports. Will that be alright with your barrier parameters?"

"Uh, sure..." A new pop-up appeared, and John blinked at it. I guess there was never a good time to set this up before... but what does this even mean?

It seems Tricia Gorbachev wants to create a party, but does not have permission to do so. Send her a party invite?
Y/N

John stared at the notice. Invite... Saturday. Crap! John checked the system time on his interface - 1:53PM - and realized he had all of seven minutes to get home, change into real clothes, and attend the first invite he received this week: June Summers. The private 'tutoring'... I really shouldn't let her down, especially after letting her down earlier this week... and Tricia's already gotten plenty of data, plus I can help her afterwards, and... He thought about how that would look: leaving Tricia's early to engage in what was surely more than tutoring at Ms. Summers' home. More time with Tricia, or keep my time with June...

[AUTHOR: All voting IS CLOSED.]