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I’m not a morning person. Shocker, I know. Sunlight? Clip clops? Squeakers arguing? I just buried my head groggily in my bed and rolled over best I could. That clang of steel on stone, the rising argument pitch, that was far too loud though. Damnit, what were these kids doing right outside my flat?
I rolled out of bed, suddenly hit free-fall, felt my body respond and bring me to a hanging stop, blinking blearily at three adventurers, and a doorway covered in familiar looking netting?
One of them screamed at a pitch I thought only dogs could hear, pulled something, and there was a BANG as they shot me in the heart.
89/96
Oh yeah. I was a Ghostweaver Wyrm woman, hanging upside down from the overhang, my massive bust wobbling with the impact of a bullet, glaring at… let’s see…
Carver, <Orc Gunslighter>, Thaumiel, <Divine Dryad Swampkeeper>, and, stuck in the webs of the doorway, HotSingles69, <Seacubus Brigand>, eyes locked on my chest.
“Rude.” I groaned.
“AAAAARGH, IT’S THE BOSSS!” Carver squealed, spinning up the pea-shooter gunslingers apparently started with. Well, he did literally shoot first. So I flicked my legs back and forth, dodging the next shot, then disconnected my web. I’m not tall, but I’m a drider so I’m like pony-sized, which is a lot of weight to fall on a ranged class.
“Connor! No!” Thaumiel’s microphone sucked, though it did lend the wooden angelic warrior an eldritch vibe as she summoned a wave of glowing orange scarabs. The… badly named Brigand only managed a crossbow bolt, still very stuck in webs, but did call “Dibs.”
The scabs were a pain. I flailed and swung for a while before getting sick of them and remembering to focus on the caster. Hey, old Gav needs his morning coffee before pvp. I did need to use my Venom on her to force her to abandon the Scarabs for a healing spell, and right when I’d tied up two of them, HotSingles69 slipped free, hopped on my back and hit me with my own <Blessed Mace>.
Ouch. Brigands get bonuses with stolen equipment, and I am… partially ghostly, so the Mace dealt extra damage too. But one on one, no kid can beat me.
—
“Heeey, that’s miiiiine- the boss is robbing us!”
“Not a boss, kid.” Once the adrenaline died down and they were all one hit from death and tied up, I set about taking their loot with two hands. The other two were trying to salvage my top, before giving up to just hold my tits for… some modesty. “And I really oughta just kill you.”
“N- no no no, don’t k-kill!” I webbed Thaumiel’s head to mute their toaster microphone.
“Who’re you calling kids? You’re only like… sixteen anyway, Gabby. Bet you’re super-flat irl.” Seacubus added. Damn, did I really sound that young?
“Fine, noobs. I’ve got more levels than you all put together. And this is my turf. So, you can go raid the dungeon on low health if you want, or you can get lost once my webs give out.” I scooped a healing potion, gold and rations away. I was hungry. “Next time don’t start pvp.”
By mid morning, I was well on my way back to town with bonus gold, a full belly, and a tube-top in the works made of my own web. My first armour had been roughed up so much that I could only close the top and bottom buckle, giving more of a cleavage doorway than a window. It’s awkward, I got plenty of stares once I got back to town, though I might be the highest level player for now, so that’s pretty good.
—
Flint found me while I was shopping.
He didn’t tease me. He took me outside, sat me down, and gave me a rundown. There’s no sign of my body in the flat. My notes, my coat, my coffee, are all sitting as they were. My VR Headset is gone too. Well, the one I wore.
Flint_ is using my spare one. Fair enough, it meant he could get back to me sooner. He built this version for even higher Reputation, max charisma, useful.
I used him as a middleman to sell my loot for better margins, then went shopping again. We got leather armour this time, it can fit after lots of adjustments. Turned in my quest in exchange for a couple of branches and dire warnings about the Gloomspire Cavern. Then we went to the tavern.
—
“I’ll need to be going soon, with this new relic if that’s all the same to you. Are you… well?”
“Urgh…You can keep the headset. Ssssure. Think I’m getting drunk.”
“I fear you already are, friend. And it’s not good to drink alone.”
“So stay. You been… weird, you been quiet and grave. Where’s Mr Happy Flint? Well… dead, but… you’re Flint, so… be an annoying dick or something.”
“...ten minutes. Then we’re putting you to bed. I have a great journey ahead of me.”
“To end up back here. While I’m.. I’m just stuck like this. An’ this. An’ this!”
“Have you tried looking on the brightside?”
“What brightside? I got shot when I woke up- right here, feel.”
“Heh, at least you got a body you can really enjoy, you old egg.”
“Whaa… I ain’t an egg, I got plenty o’ hair, I can bun it up an’ everything!”
“That’s not what egg me- oh forget it. Point is, you like it right? Being pretty, having big boobs?”
“Wha… n- no, I’m a guy. I’m… not a girl, I like girls. I met a… a real… nice chest.”
“So you don’t like getting to optimise yourself? Adventure? Have a girl body all to yourself?”
“... hate it… and love it. Dude, I kicked so much ghost assssss, I’m the best at this game. You missed me being aawwesome…. Did you call me pretty?”
“Gav, go to bed, I’ve got a long drive.”
“No, come on, come’ere!”
“Get off, don’t smother me, you big bug marshmallow!”
—
Juggling a few factors here, but ended up pretty happy with it! Our TF'd gamer is facing some questions about himself, or herself.
I rolled out of bed, suddenly hit free-fall, felt my body respond and bring me to a hanging stop, blinking blearily at three adventurers, and a doorway covered in familiar looking netting?
One of them screamed at a pitch I thought only dogs could hear, pulled something, and there was a BANG as they shot me in the heart.
89/96
Oh yeah. I was a Ghostweaver Wyrm woman, hanging upside down from the overhang, my massive bust wobbling with the impact of a bullet, glaring at… let’s see…
Carver, <Orc Gunslighter>, Thaumiel, <Divine Dryad Swampkeeper>, and, stuck in the webs of the doorway, HotSingles69, <Seacubus Brigand>, eyes locked on my chest.
“Rude.” I groaned.
“AAAAARGH, IT’S THE BOSSS!” Carver squealed, spinning up the pea-shooter gunslingers apparently started with. Well, he did literally shoot first. So I flicked my legs back and forth, dodging the next shot, then disconnected my web. I’m not tall, but I’m a drider so I’m like pony-sized, which is a lot of weight to fall on a ranged class.
“Connor! No!” Thaumiel’s microphone sucked, though it did lend the wooden angelic warrior an eldritch vibe as she summoned a wave of glowing orange scarabs. The… badly named Brigand only managed a crossbow bolt, still very stuck in webs, but did call “Dibs.”
The scabs were a pain. I flailed and swung for a while before getting sick of them and remembering to focus on the caster. Hey, old Gav needs his morning coffee before pvp. I did need to use my Venom on her to force her to abandon the Scarabs for a healing spell, and right when I’d tied up two of them, HotSingles69 slipped free, hopped on my back and hit me with my own <Blessed Mace>.
Ouch. Brigands get bonuses with stolen equipment, and I am… partially ghostly, so the Mace dealt extra damage too. But one on one, no kid can beat me.
—
“Heeey, that’s miiiiine- the boss is robbing us!”
“Not a boss, kid.” Once the adrenaline died down and they were all one hit from death and tied up, I set about taking their loot with two hands. The other two were trying to salvage my top, before giving up to just hold my tits for… some modesty. “And I really oughta just kill you.”
“N- no no no, don’t k-kill!” I webbed Thaumiel’s head to mute their toaster microphone.
“Who’re you calling kids? You’re only like… sixteen anyway, Gabby. Bet you’re super-flat irl.” Seacubus added. Damn, did I really sound that young?
“Fine, noobs. I’ve got more levels than you all put together. And this is my turf. So, you can go raid the dungeon on low health if you want, or you can get lost once my webs give out.” I scooped a healing potion, gold and rations away. I was hungry. “Next time don’t start pvp.”
By mid morning, I was well on my way back to town with bonus gold, a full belly, and a tube-top in the works made of my own web. My first armour had been roughed up so much that I could only close the top and bottom buckle, giving more of a cleavage doorway than a window. It’s awkward, I got plenty of stares once I got back to town, though I might be the highest level player for now, so that’s pretty good.
—
Flint found me while I was shopping.
He didn’t tease me. He took me outside, sat me down, and gave me a rundown. There’s no sign of my body in the flat. My notes, my coat, my coffee, are all sitting as they were. My VR Headset is gone too. Well, the one I wore.
Flint_ is using my spare one. Fair enough, it meant he could get back to me sooner. He built this version for even higher Reputation, max charisma, useful.
I used him as a middleman to sell my loot for better margins, then went shopping again. We got leather armour this time, it can fit after lots of adjustments. Turned in my quest in exchange for a couple of branches and dire warnings about the Gloomspire Cavern. Then we went to the tavern.
—
“I’ll need to be going soon, with this new relic if that’s all the same to you. Are you… well?”
“Urgh…You can keep the headset. Ssssure. Think I’m getting drunk.”
“I fear you already are, friend. And it’s not good to drink alone.”
“So stay. You been… weird, you been quiet and grave. Where’s Mr Happy Flint? Well… dead, but… you’re Flint, so… be an annoying dick or something.”
“...ten minutes. Then we’re putting you to bed. I have a great journey ahead of me.”
“To end up back here. While I’m.. I’m just stuck like this. An’ this. An’ this!”
“Have you tried looking on the brightside?”
“What brightside? I got shot when I woke up- right here, feel.”
“Heh, at least you got a body you can really enjoy, you old egg.”
“Whaa… I ain’t an egg, I got plenty o’ hair, I can bun it up an’ everything!”
“That’s not what egg me- oh forget it. Point is, you like it right? Being pretty, having big boobs?”
“Wha… n- no, I’m a guy. I’m… not a girl, I like girls. I met a… a real… nice chest.”
“So you don’t like getting to optimise yourself? Adventure? Have a girl body all to yourself?”
“... hate it… and love it. Dude, I kicked so much ghost assssss, I’m the best at this game. You missed me being aawwesome…. Did you call me pretty?”
“Gav, go to bed, I’ve got a long drive.”
“No, come on, come’ere!”
“Get off, don’t smother me, you big bug marshmallow!”
—
Juggling a few factors here, but ended up pretty happy with it! Our TF'd gamer is facing some questions about himself, or herself.
Category Story / TF / TG
Species Arachnid
Size 120 x 110px
File Size 79.9 kB
Listed in Folders
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