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The Commission

27 Jan

Sleep beckoned me back to the warmth of my bed.  My clock said nine something PM.  I pulled my cat back against my chest.  In surprise, she trilled at me, and I closed my eyes as I absently scratched her ear.  My brother had friends over.  I could hear them across the hall.  What was my dream?  I was losing it.

Fuck.  No, I needed that dream.  I was going to write about it!  Grumpily, I pressed my face into Velvet’s soft, smooth fur, provoking another trill of surprise.  Her paw pressed against my chest lightly for a few moments before the slim, agile cat wriggled free of my grasping hands.  My clock said eleven in the evening now.  I glared at the glowing red numbers and slowly rose.  I went to the bathroom, then remembered my brother had friends over.  I waited for them to go out for a smoke while I waited in my PJs on the toilet, then finished, cleaned up, and dashed to my room.  I closed the door.

It wasn’t a big deal if they saw me, right?  Just because I wear bunny PJs doesn’t mean I should be embarrassed.  Nonetheless, I changed clothes quickly into a Roadkill Cafe shirt and the same pants I’d been wearing the past week.  I topped it off with flip-flops and a grey hoodie jacket, and went upstairs to get food after I restarted my computer, because the wireless card was overheating again.

The entire house was dark and quiet.  I missed dinner by a long shot.  After a quick investigation, I found that I missed out on spaghetti.  How disappointing.  I sighed and looked to the toaster.  The bananas were no longer resting on it.  I walked to the corner cupboard and found both banana bunches.  They were still a bit green, but I wanted fruit for my ‘breakfast’.  I took one from the back of a bunch and squeezed it to tenderize it on my way back to my basement lair.  I arrived in time for my laptop to return to life.  The log in screen was covered in bloody, grim images, and I typed my password in less than a second, then peeled my banana before I hit enter.

The basement was empty now, and I wandered out to turn off the lights and turn down the heat while I waited for my computer to finish logging me in.  It didn’t take long, but I wanted to feel constructive.  I turned off the light near the back door, the light in the laundry room, and my brother’s bedroom light, then turned the heater down from high to low.  Shortly after I returned to my room, he returned and turned everything back on again.  Typical Bip.

For several hours, I simply puttered around on f-list.  My mind was not yet fully awake.  One of my favored channels was somewhat alive, so I began to chatter with people for a time before my interest drifted to the ever-pulling imgur.  I smirked in amusement at images of cats and gave ‘upvotes’ to those that amused me most.

Eventually, I returned to f-list’s tab in my browser, only to find someone wanted to commission some art.

A deep breath filled my lungs.  Someone advertised a need to spend money on something I learned in high school.  My internet went out with an annoying fizzle.  I dashed to the modem room and reset everything.  I could hardly breathe.  The username clung to my mind as I stubbornly repeated it in my mind, and hindered my ability to count.  I shoved the cords back into their proper places and nearly tripped as I spun around.  I passed through the office door, and then the doorway of the laundry room.  An iron weight settled in my belly as I went into my room.  The pages still hadn’t loaded.  I reset the wireless card on my laptop and waited.

The wait was agony.  I gorged on freshly-made oven pizza as I stared at the screen and absently swatted my spoiled kitten away.  The page loaded!  I copied the username and reloaded the main f-chat client.  My heart was pounding as I checked the channel.  She was no longer there.  I typed the command to open a private chat and pasted her name.  She was still online!  Hurriedly, I asked if she still wished to commission someone.

She said yes, and asked for samples.  I pasted a drawing of Morella, a drawing of Armand Senior and his son, and the profile for an older character of mine.  So far, signs were good.  She asked about my prices and I suggested that we start with a minimum price per piece.  She agreed to the concept, and I suggested five dollars for each of the four color drawings she wanted.  I thought this was a very reasonable rate.

Suddenly, she disappeared!  She signed off, and when I tried to send her a note on the main site, she did not respond.

I returned to the channel where I found her and asked if anyone heard from her.  Nothing.  I told my friends there what happened, and they said I undercharged.

I assumed she no longer wished to buy from me, so I went on with my day.  I started to play some World of Warcraft while browsing Imgur and listening to a Sound Horizon song.

Several hours later, she returned online and I welcomed her back.  She thanked me rather cooly, and from there, we no longer spoke.  There were still a few hours before I had Dungeons and Dragons, so I returned to the world of Azeroth to try to dethrone the Lich King with a priest friend, while I played on my Death Knight troll.

We died many times, until my younger brother joined in and shamed the both of us by soloing the boss we had so much trouble with.  He went several minutes before he even noticed that we were dead!

I’ve since decided that I need to get some better gear.

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Posted by on January 27, 2013 in Nonfiction

 

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