What does the word Super bring to mind? To most it entails being special, important, better than everyone else and I would would agree. My generation craved this feeling of superiority, of being special and do you know why? Because all our lives, we were told by our parents, by our teachers, by ourselves that we were special, we were important, the main character of our own story if you would. It was only later in life once the veil of childhood had been lifted that the cruelty of adulthood and the reality of the world set in that I realized, it was all a lie. Sure, we were all special, but there was always someone better.
Athletes? Who cares, I could name off the top of my head ten men or women who could run miles in less than thirty seconds and they were not even the fastest. Flying, some did that too. Strength? I watched a video of a man throw a building with his mind. This was the world of the Supers and I am certainly not a Super in anything. What were we to do, facing such insurmountable barriers? Even if we had Superpowers, there were tiers dividing the weak from the strong. It was referred to as Rank and they went by magnitudes of ten.
We desired it so much so that we would live vicariously through games, books, movies, anything that we could personify ourselves as the hero, the savior. It got to the point where we idolized the very heroes who crushed our dreams to begin with. Really, not such a bad thing considering that they fight Super Villains, who want to destroy the world, but I will get to that later. There was another route, hatred. There were those who resented the Supers for being gifted, for being special and better than they ever would be through hard work alone.
They were simply jelly and wouldn’t get over it. It was not fair, they would complain. Well, unfortunately life isn’t fair. Never has been, never will be. Survival of the fittest, though it has been repressed by our advancements, it is there always waiting, running things in the background. At some point, we have to realize there is somebody out there who will be stronger, faster, smarter, better in every way and that person is probably going to bone the living shit outa some other superior being and guess what? They will have a child and it will ninety nine percent of the time be in the top ten percent of rattatas. Eh, wait that is Pokemon. Same difference, it still applies.
Even I am no exception to this. What have I done to deal with this soul crushing realization? I gave up on the real world. I can’t be Super out there, but I can be my own hero playing games and slaying the evil demon lord to save all the peoples. Well, let’s be technical here. I could theoretically get powers, if I, A. Throw myself into a vat of mystery goo, B. Get super rich and buy cool shit from people with super powers, I sure as hell was not C. Born with it, or D. Got struck by cosmic rays from outer space, or E. Get mauled by a radioactive Subhuman monster, least appealing on the list by the way.
Did I mention Subhumans before? I guess I didn’t, did I? They are the freaks, the monsters, the failed Supers and unfortunately with how radioactive the Slums were, there were a lot of them running around down there. Dangerous is what they were. Every month they made the news, running wild and killing people with the full moon. Makes me very happy I live on the opposite side of the city. Glitter Kitten would be the most famous. Super Villain stripper, that is right, a Stripper. Now, the thought might occur, ‘Who the fuck would go to a strip club run by animal people?’ a lot of people, actually. I think it has something to do with the fact that she has six boobies.
One bite, one misstep in toxic sludge and bam, slum city if you looked like a freak. And that is why I don’t leave the house any more. The risks of obtaining super powers far outweighed the reward. Not to say it is not tempting. The problem is, the odds were just not very high that something good would come of it. I am content with my games, movies, tv shows, manga, comics, and anime. It is taking up so much time, I don’t have any to be getting into trouble. I learned life should be enjoyed and so, I just don’t give a damn. Of course I am not a productive member of society and probably shouldn’t be giving life lessons. Having a job is a very fulfilling thing or it can be soul grinding and reduce you to being a zombie, but hey, if you are dead, then you don’t gotta eat right? Me, I am mooching off my parents. Hypocritical? Maybe, don’t judge me. There are crazy people out there who could kill me with their pinky finger. So, why would I go outside?
I made a minimal amount of money doing what I loved, playing games. How? I streamed on Twitch chat. It also really helped that I did not have any real expenses. I don’t know what the fuck I would do if I had any real bills. For the most part my followers were nice? Creepy is more like it. It was right up my alley, they liked weird perverted stuff, I liked weird perverted stuff. So while I played we would talk and they would occasionally throw me some donations if I dressed up or they bribed me to do something really stupid in game. All in all, it was very fun. Not very productive though.
One of my major hobbies was surfing the web. Cuteness was justice. Kittens, puppies and bunnies are, the trinity of soft and cuddly. I wanted one so badly, but dad would not let us get any pets. They looked adorable dressed up in clothes. Then there was my lurking the Idol boards, looking for pictures of cute girls, in the frilliest, most adorable clothes possible. I wanted to be them. I did not have the face for it though, my nose was too big. My favorite was an online idol named Ichigo. She was so snugly and soft looking. I got hooked the moment I saw her. My supreme favorite picture of her is one where she looks like a fairy, normally she looks like some magical elf creature, but in this one she dressed for it and even had a giant leaf.
The result was that it was now my permanent desktop background and I threw five dollars into her online donation fund. Considering how broke and stingy with my money I am that was a very generous donation. I check her site daily for updates and at one point or another I even looked up where she lived. Turns out she lives in the downtown area of the city. Googled it and everything, if I drove, I could get there in half an hour... Well, not that I would. At most I would try to be her friend. Not into girls like that after all, even though my dad keeps saying that I am. I just love cute things, the smaller and cuddlier the better.
When I was not face deep in a game, streaming of course, I was reading manga or watching anime online. Moon Sailors were my go to when I wanted to gaze upon glistening man flesh. The amount of man on man action was enough to make any girl wild. It was hard not to be in a good mood after watching it. My favorites were Moon Sailors, Atomic Samurai, Abyss and Blood Rager. I know it was a little weird how I loved cute things, but also enjoyed the darkest, most fucked up stories. I loved reading about how people overcame their troubles and grew stronger on their journey. It was inspiring. Granted, you watch enough of it and your brain will drip out your ears. It was good to do it in binges. I typically rotated from one activity to another so that I did not get bored of it.
My other hobby was cosplaying. I would use the pictures as reference and sew the cutest damned dresses I could. I made all sorts of outfits from the various anime and manga I browsed through. I had a few costumes, but they did not seem to fit my image and I looked creepy in them instead of cute. My Twitch chat are a bunch of fucking trolls, but hey, they throw money at me. I tried to make a power suit, a fake one, I am not a Super there was no way in hell I could make a real one. The materials cost way too much and it ended up never happening. If there was a gathering or Con or something I might get out of the house, but unfortunately my good old city of Bronson, California did not have a single Con in it.
I would have to go to LA or something for the time being. That was not going to happen, that place is a quagmire of crime and ugliness. No. I liked my city. Good old Bronson, California. It was the fifth largest city in the state. I am not saying there is no crime here, oh no we got it all here, but it is not nearly to the degree of that festering rat hole. We even got Supers running around, although that is not so impressive these days. Almost every city has at the least a team or if they don't the Hero League loans out some Supers to watch the place. Well, enough about real life.
This brings me to yet another reclusive day playing games in the dark recesses of my parent’s basement. Lately, I had been devoting an excessive amount of time to a game called the Shattered Realms, Broken Destiny. It was, well, to put it simply the best role playing game ever invented. You could create characters from twenty different races and even customize your class. Being the obsessive perfectionist that I was, I had already gotten to late game content and geared up to the point that any guild was slavering at my heels to get me on their roster. Never mind the fact that I am a cold blooded murderer in game.
Well, it was pretty easy to see why. I did have the Goddess of Death title after all, since I was the first to kill Lord Solar, the Sun God and get his fiery maul. Well, to be technical, I ninja looted it and killed everyone who tried to stop me. The thing was rather broken actually, not quite sure why it was even in the game. I could literally break down a castle wall in one swing. My character was a Dark Elemental, Fallen Valkyrie named Sintress. All in all I was pretty bad ass, in game at the least. What else was I going to do? I have no life. At the least my stream subscribers seem to like my murderous rampages, or they just want to fuck my character. I honestly don’t know which. It seems I only get the weirdos. Something tells me there is a bunch of hentai involving my character somewhere and I need to know about it.
To the side of my HUD I could see the chat, people were starting to filter in. Oh good, people here to watch, “Good Morning everyone, I see we have a few new faces. Welcome to Vesper’s rampage. Feel free to donate, if you have requests go for it.”
Almost immediately my donation chime went off, I had it set up to play, It’s Raining Men for about five seconds while showing a gif of Admiral Moon, getting showered with money. Then the robot lady voice I had on started reading what the person, Tittymouse wrote, “When do we get to see your Bewbie, bewbies, bewbies?!”
“Alright, alright that is it, you all just lost boob privileges! I was going to cosplay some sexy shit later too. You cock bags wonder why we can’t have nice things and this is why! This isn’t a fucking stripper cam, now get the fuck outa here.”
“Not fair, not fair! Don’t listen to the troll, we love you!” wrote a couple of them.
“Alright, fine, we hit a hundred bucks and I will dress up,” I replied, crossing my arms.
The fake woman’s voice appeared again as the donation popped up. “Thanks for streaming! Here is my part to the cosplay fund. Which are you going to do?”
“Thanks for donating. I don’t know yet, we will cross that bridge when we get there. So what do we want to do next?”
“Genocide, genocide!” filled the chat.
“So, which ethnicity are we cleansing the Shattered Realms of today?”
“Sounds fun,” I grinned, cracking my knuckles.
Thus, the great Centaur massacre that forced a server restart began. It only took about six hours and I still had time to start up dungeon runs for my subscribers. I loved being able to just zone out and murder things, strangle the life from their necks, burn their huts and slaughter their families. It is not real of course, it would be weird if it was. Sometimes I wish that I could live in the Shattered Realms, but only if I could be my character. Then remembering that they probably would not have invented toilet paper yet makes that a very disconcerting thing. It is kinda like how everybody wishes they could be knights or something in medieval Europe. Fucking stupid, if you ask me.
There is a reason it is called the dark ages. Plague, wars, famine, and shorter life spans, not appealing at all. Not to mention the whole peasant class thing and crushing taxes on wheat or anything else for that matter. Then you had filthy religion getting its grubby paws into everything. Corruption as far as the eye could see. Another thing would be that knights back then were basically just a bunch of thugs pillaging and raping the country side, funny how history glosses over that. I guess I would fit in pretty well, considering the war crimes I just committed on those centaur.
The computer screen was dull with Ichigo the fairy staring back at me. I blinked a few times, setting my virtual reality helmet to the side. It took another moment to make sure that I was logged out of Shattered Realms. My eyes were starting to burn from my latest dungeon crushing marathon. I would take scrubs through high level dungeons and get paid to do it. Not real money of course... If only life was that simple. I mean, I did sometimes, but mostly it was just ingame money.
Oh, look at that I made a hundred bucks from random donations. Looks like the chat earned themselves a dress up stream. The murder sprees always get the cash flowing. People really like violence. I suppose it is pretty entertaining. Looks like it is pizza tonight! The chat was scrolling up the side of the screen, they were trying to bribe me to show them my boobs. These fuckers never learn. It was the old Tips for Tricks fund, it never worked on me, but they try it anyway. I am not that desperate yet, and besides, I could get banned for that shit.
“Guys come on,” I said, exasperatedly, seriously, there is no pleasing these perverts. “You know I don’t show. Look, you want dress up or not? Which you want? Gothic Lolita, Magical Girl, or-”
“Dom, Dom, Dom!” spammed through the chat.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I never should have showed you guys that. That thing is so uncomfortable. I know it is all shiny, but I get all sweaty, do you guys really want to see that?”
Thumbs up started filling the chat log, these guys… whatever I will take your damned money.
“ Alright, look when I get back in about an hour or two I will put on the dominatrix leathers. You guys better be donating.”
With that I cut the feed to the camera. It is hard to move around in that costume. Money, gotta think of the money. I gotta get that new Moon Sailors dvd box set, it has that holographic poster and miniature set that is uncensored. But first I need a break, I had been at it for the past eight hours. Glancing at the clock I realized that I should probably do something with my day, it was already three in the afternoon. Some natural light and fresh air would do wonders for my mood. I was a little pissed since I got stiffed on one of my runs in SR. I murdered him and took all his money, but still it is the principle of the matter.
My room had become a staging area for trash after my latest gaming binge. A pile of pizza boxes leaned by the closet and the trash can was overflowing. The stairway leading out of my room was clear of debris, though it was kinda old and dingy. At any rate, I kept the room clean where the camera could see. A little deceptive, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them. I heard the tell tale signs that my dad was home, the stomping above my head gave it away, I could even follow where people upstairs were and where they were going if I tried.
My dad roared from up above, “Vesper Walda Vasska! Get your deadbeat ass up here!”
Shit, he used my full name, I must have fucked something up I don't know about. I racked my brain thinking of things that I have not done that he would be mad about. I guess the dishes were still floating in the sink, water ice cold. That was supposed to be done yesterday. Ah, fuck. I forgot about the gutters. Reluctantly, I emerged from my lair and walked, following the heavy footsteps. He was in the kitchen, thick shouldered, bald headed and pissed. His gaze could make milk curdle and it was directed at me. I don't even remember doing anything bad recently, at least nothing worthy of this. It was hard to miss the pile of clean dishes. Looks like he did that. He pointed at the kitchen table and I sat down without a fight.
“You know why I am angry?” He asked, plopping down on the opposite side.
“Nope.” I had to play stupid. If I started naming off stuff he don't know about yet things would get worse.
He pointed his finger at the table tapping it angrily. “You need to get outside and do something with your life. You are wasting it in that basement in front of that damned computer. I never should have bought that for you. When was the last time you went outside?”
“I was going to go outside after I took out the trash.” It was a weak answer, but it was the truth.
“See that is an improvement.” He smiled for a moment, but then his face became stern again. “Now listen, I don't mean to be angry with you, I just seriously worry over your future. You have not left the house for over a week and I hardly even see you unless I force my way into your room. That nest thing you got going on down there has to stop. Your mother is more worried than I am. It is like you are withdrawing from the world or something.”
“You could watch my stream, you know.”
“I will not watch my daughter being a cam whore!” he yelled and I scowled back.
“I am not a fucking cam whore, Dad. Jesus, I have some self-respect. At most I dress up. People pay to watch me play games. It is not like I am doing nothing down there.”
“I will take the damned Internet away.”
“Dad, be reasonable. I hear you, but what do you want me to do? You know that I am not some social butterfly.”
“You say that while actively streaming to strangers.”
“It is different. I don’t get all weirded out if they are not here in person.”
“Fine, first off take a shower, I can smell you from here,” he scrunched up his face a little. “No boy is ever going to go out with you if you smell like garbage and a jock strap.”
“Damn it, dad!” I yelled at him, he is always so rude about this. “This again? I am sorry that I am picky, but I will not just throw myself at somebody.”
“When did I say to throw yourself at somebody?” He raised his voice and here comes the I am suddenly a responsible daddy time. All through high school you ignored me. Where the fuck was this when I needed it? “Look, if some punk kid fucks with you, I will destroy him. You need to be out there to meet people. I want grandkids one day you know.”
“Dad! I am only twenty-five. You are rushing this! I don't want to be some trailer trash who got knocked up by some piece of shit you know.”
“Your mom and I were married at twenty-two you know.”
“Well, I am sorry there was no high school hunk to sweep me off my feet. I want an older guy. He has to be at the least thirty, have a job, a car and not live with his parents. All these stupid kids my age are too obsessed with sex. They just want to get in my pants and drink all fucking day. They don't care about me at all. I want something real, you know? You can’t blame me for wanting what you and mom have. I am not stupid, I know they just want to use me. Dad look, when I see somebody that I like, I will tell you. Just let me take this slowly. I will do everything else, but this is not going to happen. This is uncompromisable.”
“When was the last time you got laid?” He said with a straight face and it broadsided me from left field.
“DAD! Are you fucking serious?” I sounded hysterical and I knew it.
“What? Sometimes you just need to get wild.”
“Lalala! We are not doing this! This is not a conversation a dad should ever have with his daughter!”
“Alright, fine. I will leave that alone. As for your goals, though. Those are good things to look for, but how in the hell is such a man going to find you if you are holed up in that cave down there?”
“I know.” I snarled at him. “Just leave me alone.”
“How about you try joining the Baseball Team? I remember you were great as the catcher. Think about it. You would be out of the house and who knows you might meet a nice boy.”
Whoa, that was a shot out of the dark. “Dad that was high school. I haven't even touched a baseball in six years. What makes you think I could even pass the physical at this point. I have not exactly been training.”
“You could do it if you put your mind to it. You have always been like that. Remember when you caught that ball the girl tried to bunt, then threw and took out third base?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I clipped it right under the bitch and she stepped off of the plate.”
“See, you had fun. You should never have quit.”
“Oh god, dad is this about me not doing baseball in college?”
“It is not, but you should have. You could have gotten a full scholarship and everything.” My dad looked a bit hurt. Every time college got dragged up, he just gave me that disappointed look.
“I was not feeling it. I was already bored of baseball after high school. I was tired of being hit by balls all fucking day. It sucks being the catcher all the time. If anything went wrong, it was my fucking fault. I swear it is like being the jungler. Gank my lane you boosted animal. Nice smite, kill yourself. That is all I fucking hear. Thank god, I can mute all in games.”
“You are talking like one of those lesies.”
I rolled my eyes and almost walked away, but I knew that he would chase me down and this would get worse, so I just yelled at him. “Dad! For the last time I am not gay! I wasn't gay in college, even though half the damn dormitory was going through that experimental phase. My fucking roommate was a skanky dike who was plowing a different bitch every night. I had to listen to that shit. I sure as fuck am not gay now! Stay the hell out of my non existent sex life.”
He crossed his arms, glaring at me, “Then why are you stalking that fairy girl?”
“Dad! I am not stalking her,” I glared right back. “For me to be stalking anybody I would have to leave the house you know. I just love cute things and she is fucking adorable alright. So drop it.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Why can't you just be normal and have posters of half naked men all over your room. Instead of faeries and little Asian girls dressed up like those stupid cartoon characters. Those moon whatevers don't count.”
“It is called cosplay, dad. Moon Sailors. Fine dad, fine! I will show you my fucking porn folder how about that? Dicks and tentacles everywhere, there are so many it's like a fucking forest. I like the dick for the last fucking time! God, I can't believe I actually said that... You are so embarrassing dad!”
“Hey, you are the one who said it.” Smirked my dad, the bastard was barely keeping himself from laughing!
I scowled and turned away. “Because you won't get off my ass about it.”
He just laughed and pat me on the back, then ruffled my greasy hair, I could feel it standing up. I stormed off to take a shower while he chuckled and turned on the TV. I could hear the news something about some stupid Super getting caught and being labeled as a villain. The bathroom was over my room, well, I suppose the whole house is over my room. I would like to think that I was average height, five foot five. Not short but not tall either.
Shit, I really let myself go. I had borderline abs in high school. Feels like I was getting fat too, I could grab my flanks. Granted, it was not to the point that I had handles, but it was still troubling. I am going to have to lay off the pizza. Am I even going to be able to fit in that leather jumpsuit? There were some pretty bad bags under my blue eyes, dark and swollen. That VR helmet is not doing me any favors. My black hair looked like a quagmire from hell with tentacles everywhere, thanks dad.