Evida's Diary: Day Twelve
I’d had enough. The days went by, bringing new location after new location, with never any trial date agreed on. I missed Azeroth. I missed my guildies. I missed the pets, including Trollop, and I even missed Mr Chilly.
XGM Cuddlyheehee had visited me three times in all, on what he called fact-finding missions, and three times he had left promising to get me moved as soon as possible. All that happened was that I was moved to a different faction so that instead of an evil Sith evil-person I was suddenly a promising young padawan with astonishing aptitude in the force, countering evil by thinking happy thoughts at it until it got irritated and went away. Each time I became resigned to my location I’d be whisked away suddenly to somewhere worse.
Each move seemed to take me further and further away from where I wanted to be, on Draenor with my guild. One day, after stealing yet another car, shooting up another rival gang and failing yet again to find the shop known as Leather and Lace, I’d had enough. Steelport and the Saints could do without me. I almost hesitated when I thought of all the shopping experiences I’d miss if I left now, but no, my mind was made up. If anyone out there was really, really, really trying to kill me, they weren’t trying very hard. If Cuddlyheehee was right, the allegedly-evil GMs were looking for me in random games, peering into every Minecraft hole, and even investigating Plants vs Zombies just in case I was there. I was in danger, he said. Yeah, of extreme wow-less boredom.
It was lucky I was a hunter. Survival spec was of course, not really available to me in my gang boss persona, but I thought hunter thoughts and survival thoughts in particular. It wasn’t going to be easy to make my way back into WoW but somehow I’d do it, if I had to think forever, there had to be a way. I stopped thinking quickly in case I strained myself.
With the help of Josh the actor in Steelport, I made my way to Hollywood,and there it was a simple matter to find which of the waiters and would-be stars in bars were Blood Elves escaped from WoW. If you listened, it was easy. I heard one guy say, “Debt to our Enemies,” and another accidently told a departing customer, “Remember the sunscreen.” At first they were wary of being sucked back into a life of handing out quests in Falconwing Square, but when I assured them that I would never tell the secret, they showed me how to make my way through a line of sloppy coding in the real life interface, and thence into Daddy’s throne room in Draenor.
“Hi guys”, I said, as I walked into the guild headquarters sometime later
“Hiya Evi,” said a guildling. “Can you polish some armour for me please?”
“No I can’t,” I snapped. “No-one in their right mind polishes armour. If it shines too much it over-aggros the boss.” For some reason he looked confused, but then guildies always looked confused around me, especially if I’d said something, so I thought no more of it.
“Where’s dinner?” asked someone else.
“How should I know?” I shrugged. “I only just got here.” Two guildies now looked confused, again, perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. In fact, I savoured the moment, that special rapport I had with my guild-mates. I had missed this so much.
“Are you ok, Evi?” asked Nightbelf.
“Um… yeah. Why do you ask?”
“I couldn’t help noticing you’re not whirring….. shall I try and find Sooze?”
“I’ve never whirred in my life,” I said, trying hard not to sound offended. “I hum a bit sometimes though.”
“Oh,” he thought for a moment. “Can I ask you something?” he asked.
“You just did.”
“As long as it’s not about me and Gamon.”
“What about you and Gamon?” he said perplexed.
“No idea,” I lied.
“I wanted to ask if it’s true that you’re a robot.”
“Of course it isn’t. Where on earth would you get that idea?”
“It was something Sooze said.”
“Sooze isn’t normally wrong,”I admitted. I thought for a moment. Could I have been a robot all these years without knowing it?
“Where’s your little light gone?” he asked then. “I thought it was cute.”
I thought for another moment, and then it all made sense. “Oh I get it,” I said. “It’s some weird post-traumatic stress thing from when you were all kidnapped.”
“Wha……?” he said. He seemed confused, but again, that was the effect I had on most people.