The sun was coming up in my dark and musty room again, and I could barely see the cracks of light around the curtain. My computer buzzed and hummed as I installed a new game I had just bought via direct download for only ten dollars. It was an Indie game, and I have to say, there's something about Indie games that makes them different from the modern, blockbuster-like video games today.
They bring people back to older and in some ways, better times, two-dimensional times where the Super Nintendo or Famicon, and Sega Genesis reigned (though Sega has now been bought out by Nintendo). And the emergence of 3D, when Playstation, the Nintendo 64, and Sega Dreamcast duked it out; and Nintendo was arguably their most obsessed over the graphical capabilities of their consoles..
But graphics aren't everything, and the sandbox RPG I was installing is proof of that. It is called Block World, not much of a name. Funny enough, someone had written a semi-popular creepypasta (that's an internet horror story), on how their was a copy of the game that put the player in the game.. what a TRON rip-off. In the story the player tested to see if he would actually get hurt in-game, and inevitably he ended up dying for real.
Clicking on the buttons to finish this installation, I supposed it would be kind of cool to be transported into a video game. And being able to get out without dying, of course. This game had a massive amount of classes which sound like they were ripped from Ragnarok, a game now plagued by bots mining the game for items; and of course you have to work your way up in Block World with a fair amount of leveling to get to the better classes.
When the installation was over I started to feel this tingling feeling followed by panic. I had memories of what it was like to be electrocuted from an event that had happened in the past-- I had once accidentally tazed myself. In this brief moment of panic I thought that my computer was electrocuting me, and my entire world changed in one simple blink of my eyes.
What I felt next was a thud, since I was no longer sitting on a computer chair, and my ass hit solid ground.
"Son of a..!" I yelled. But my voice sounded strange, and following it were these little 'dinging' sounds..
Surrounding me was, well, a three-dimensional, pixelated medieval landscape. I was smack dab somewhere in the desert, feeling the intense heat of the square sun. Some sort of elaborate sand palace was ahead of me though, amidst the rectangular cactuses, or maybe it was just a mirage. Either way, I would get up and walk towards it.
I still had all my senses, but I can't quite describe it. I still had my glasses, my blue jeans which I had secretly wore for the second day in a row, and that 'Fucking Classy' t-shirt my mom didn't like.. which might I add, was written in cursive.
As I was walking I quickly came to a blackbird on a cactus, if he hadn't have had an orange beak sticking out, I might've thought he was a bat. The bird talked to me, "What is your name, traveler?"
"What are those dinging sounds in the background? Are those because we are talking?" I asked the bird, unable to make out any eyes on his small blocky shape. Maybe he just liked keeping his eyes closed.
"Invalid name. What is your name, traveler?"
It was kind of hot and standing around trying to think of a good name without water was annoying, "Um.."
"You have chosen the name, 'Um'. Is this correct?"
The bird reformed its speech, "Then what is your name, traveler?"
"Pushy." I blurted out, referring to that damn bird.
"You have chosen the name, 'Pushy'. Is this correct?"
"No!" I yelled.
"Then what is your--"
"Max Powers." I interrupted. "Fucking Max Powers."
"You have chosen the name, 'Max Powers, Fucking Max Powers.' Is this correct?"
"Sure." I said, feeling too thirsty to care about the great mistake I had just made.
"This will be the name that you will be known by for all of eternity unless you change it through my services." The bird said, beginning to flap its wings and float in the air, before being shot down by a tanned man in a turban wielding a crossbow.
"You there." His blocky mouth flapped from a distance. "I can change your name.. for the price of 200,000 rupees."
"No thanks." I said. "Hey do you have any water?"
The man in the turban pointed his crossbow at me, "I'm robbing you."
"I have water." A friendly voice came from the cactus that the dead blackbird had been on.
"Wait one second." I said to whoever had water. "I'm being robbed."
The blockman in the turban spoke aggressively, "Give me everything you have."
"I don't have anything dude." I said to him, panicked, and raising my hands in the air.
"Okay, I believe you." And with that, this failure of a highwayman walked off into the arid Arabian plains.
"Who has water?" I then asked.
"I DO!" The friendly voice said excitedly, someone must've been hiding behind the cactus.
I went over to the other side of the cactus to see that it had a giant smiley face.
"You look extremely happy." I said to the cactus, noticing that it had a glass of yellow ice-water in front of it.
The cactus had a comically exuberant voice, "Its lemonade! I made it just for you Max Powers, Fucking Max Powers!"
"Okay, thanks." I said, grabbing the glass.
After that I parted ways with the smiling cactus and headed towards the sand fortress.
As I approached the elaborate entrance or entrances to the sand fortress (since there were multiple gates in front of me), I heard the singing of a man who felt the need to change notes many times; it was as though the desert denizen had multiple testacles and they were being kicked by a steel-toed boot individually. He went on and on at the length of a Post-rock song or orchestral movement, and his high-pitched note changes made me wonder at one point if he was going to die.
When I approached the end of the gates I came to a great, blocky market and realized that what I thought was a man was actually a grinning, singing llama made up of rectangles.
A man behind a booth who looked identical to the man who tried to mug me pointed at me and said, "You, its you Max Powers, Fucking Max Powers, I have deal for you."
"What kind of deal?" I asked.
The man took off his turban and revealed a bald head, "You wear my hat, no charge."
He slammed his turban on the table, "You wear my hat no charge!"
"I'm not going to wear your hat unless you charge me money."
"You take my hat or I.. I flick you off." The disgruntled man replied.
"Look, trade me the god damn hat for this empty glass."
"I.. trade you? For.. the glass?" The man hesitated.
I put the glass on the table, "Just take the fucking glass."
The blockman took the glass and put it away. The next thing I knew he was pointing a similar crossbow at me, "Give me everything, everything you have."
I was pissed, "I don't fucking have anything and I just gave you the glass."
Two town guards came that looked like they came out of that 'A Link to the Past' Zelda game. The man pointed his crossbow at one guard and shot him but the bolt got caught in the guard's armor.
The other guard quickly responded, cutting the highwayman down with his sword.
"Thanks." I said, but the guards just walked away.