The World of Crimson: When in trouble or in doubt… [Episode 126523]

“Eeeeeeeeeeee!” screamed Firefly as she ran away.   Crimson was close behind her (but definitely not screaming; he was just running because damage meter was dangerously low).   Firefly changed directions as more zombies spawned ahead of them and started lurching in their direction.   They ran, and ran, and ran.   Then they ran some more.   They ran until they could run no longer and finally came to rest in a zombie free zone.

“Man, I can’t believe we ran from such weak opponents,” bitterly complained Crimson as the zombies very-slowly chased after them some distance from where they rested.

“I can’t believe you don’t even know how to equip your own weapons,” huffed Firefly.   “Talk about unprepared!   I’ve seen total newbies who’ve rushed into battle without bothering to read the instructions, or buy items, or anything, before, but that just takes the cake.”

“Man, that’s a bit harsh,” reeled Crimson, as though from a physical blow.

“You totally got what you deserved,” sighed Firefly who held out an Erlenmeyer flash then said, ”here, heal your character with this health drink and listen up.   This is how you access your inventory and quick slots…”

‘(Mnn… tastes like dry air,)’ Crimson observed to himself, then listened to his partner yammer away.

“…you got all that?” demanded Firefly the tutor.

“Sure, it seems simple enough,” agreed Crimson the reluctant student.

“Good because here come the…”

“Bra-ay-ainzzz!” slured the first zombie to finally catch up to the party of two and return the game to battle mode.

With a flick of his wrists, Crimson summoned the twin blades that were his class’ trade mark™.   He stood ready for his first real encounter (like, that other practice one totally didn’t count).   The zombie charged towards him at a hurried limp.   Crimson prepared a battle stance, took aim, waited, waited, paused, then waited some more and finally – watched the zombie make like a lightning rod.

“Hey, sorry to steal your thunder, but I got tired of waiting,” appologetically explained Firefly the wavemaster as she swung her smoldering stave behind her back as though trying to hide the evidence.   She whistled with mock innocence as Crimson glared at her.   “’sides, I really hate zombies and such.”

“Murr!   Braiiinzzz!” slured another zombie, reminding the pair that there were many, many more targets to practice on.   Crimson turned.   He let the game handle his character’s attack actions and concentrated on tactics.   It was elementary really, his twin blade character’s attack speed was pretty fast and accurate while the zombies’ attack routine was both slow and predictable, so he just had to time his step-up-and-fight action just right.

He sliced and he diced.   He dished out punishment and served up zombie tripe.   He knew he was the hero of the day, and revelled in it.   Oh, and Firefly added a few ranged attacks, too, bopped them with her stave when they got too close, and healled him up when a zombie slam or two got through.

“Oh, yeah!   That did it,” exclaimed Crimson as he realised that the field was cleared of zombies; in their immediate vacinity at least.

“Way cool, Crimson!” cheered Firefly and hugged him.   “You don’t totally suck after all!”   Then she seemed to realise what she was doing, pulled away with a blush, looked shyly away, then squealed, “Eeuw!   You’ve got zombie guts all over you!”

“Yuh know, in some ways, this game’s way too real,” complained Crimson as he brushed down his red shirt of loss bits and chunks.   “This is just offle,”

“…,” observed Firefly.   “That pun’s much worse.”

“So, what do we do now?” wondered Crimson.