Stick to Something Familiar

"I'll just have a Guinness." You tell the bartender who curtly nods and gives you your bear and Dr. Topple a glass of what you presume is whiskey now that you've seen it.

"Ah, thank you." Dr. Topple sighs as she takes a sip of her drink.

"I didn't exactly have a choice." You grumble. "Are there any other rules about these GAMES, I should know?"

"Hmm, well there are some privileges you have as faculty. For instance, you can't be challenged during classes and you have the right to refuse a game if participating in it would directly stop you from completing your duties as a professor."

"That's good." You say, taking a swig of your beer. "I can see how that could be a problem."

Dr. Topple nods and adds, "I mean what I said very literally though. A GAME can still impede your duties, just not stop them. For instance, one of your students couldn't make it a victory reward that you have to give them oral sex everyday during class because it would prevent you from speaking, but they could choose to sodomize you every day during class."

Your eyes bulge and you nearly spit your beer all over her. "You're kidding right?"

She grins and shakes her head. "Nope, learned that the hard way my first year. Eddie Dominguez. Little prick."

Gulping down a large swig of your beer you ask, "Is that sort of thing...normal here?"

"Please." Dr. Topple snorts. "That's tame. The GAME system makes anything possible. Body modification. Mental modification. ****. Snuff. It all happens. Though your faculty role protects you from some of that, can't teach if you're dead or a brainless sex doll after all."

"Christ." You murmur. "I'd heard rumors this place was odd, but I never imagined something like this."

Dr. Topple nods gravely, looking serious for a moment before putting her smile back on with a clear act of will. "It can be pretty intense, but it can also be fun if you lean in to it. Like getting your cute new colleague to buy you fancy whisky on a date."

Your face turns red at that. "D-date?" You stammer.

She puts a hand on your shoulder and leans in. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Mostly." She gives you a wink.

Downing the rest of your beer you order another, Dr. Topple follows suit. "So do you have a boyfriend, maybe a girlfriend?" She asks.

"No." You admit unable to look her in the eyes.

"Then do you want this to be a date?" She whispers in your ear breathily.