Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival?! - A CARTA Journaling Game

[Teviko604]

PROMPT 10 - THE FOUNTAIN

I choose the card beneath my last turn.

Card Draw: 6 of Hearts (Red) +2 Potential, 6 total potential

Prompt: You’ve impressed your Rival, this time. How? What lets you know that you’ve won some respect?

*  *  *

Wayne’s shouts of exultation jolted me back to the present. He had just won his second game of Gem Squares.  Since each match was short, typically only lasted fifteen to twenty minutes, Wayne, Erik, and I decided whoever won three games would be the Champion.

“I'll be right back,” I said, getting up.  “Water break.”

I headed to the water fountain in the back of the store. I had just started to drink when I heard my name.

“Hey, Lance.”

I turned, surprised but glad, to see Gwen.

“How much longer do you have in your game?”

“Huh?” I replied, momentarily confused until I realized she was asking about my game with Wayne and Erik. “Oh, we're playing to three. Wayne’s won twice. Erik and I just once. It could be another hour, or so.”

“Oh. I was hoping we could play our game of Wyvern's Retreat, but that doesn’t give us enough time.”

Gwen clearly looked disappointed.  I guess she was serious when she suggested us playing a game Wednesday night.

“I didn't know you were serious about that.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, my mistake. Never mind.”

She tried to hide her embarrassment with nonchalance, but her face flushed and gave her away.  She turned to escape, but I reached for her arm.

“Wait!”

She spun back and I hastened to pull my hand back, afraid I had offended her.

“I do want to play,” I quickly explained. “I'm the one who was mistaken. As soon as I'm done with my game . . .”

“That'll be too late,” Gwen lamented. “My parents don't get to spend much time together, so they planned a special date night tonight. Dinner. A movie. Who knows what else.” She smiled at that. “I promised to stay with Fisher, so I need to be home early.  Even if we started now, we would barely have time to finish.”

I thought for a moment.

“Wait here,” I told her, and took off, halfway between a walk and a run.

“Guys. Finish the game without me,” I said when I returned to Wayne and Erik. “Something came up.”

“What are you talking about?” Erik asked as I turned to leave. “Where are you going?”

I didn't have time to come up with a story. “I promised Gwen I'd play a game with her,” I called out as I walked-ran away. I'd have to deal with that fallout later, but right now, I couldn't care less.

“Let’s go,” I said to Gwen when I returned to the water fountains.

“What about your game?”

“I told them to finish without me.”

“You brushed them off?” Gwen said amazed.  I watched her deep brown eyes melt from surprise into appreciation.  “Thanks.  Really, I mean it.  Thank you!”

Again, my heart skipped a beat. 

“It’s fine. Let’s play.”

We went back to the table where Gwen had already set up Wyvern’s Retreat.  It was no contest.  Gwen handily wiped up the floor with me.

And I was okay with that.

========================
Image of Lance and Gwen generated at perchance.org

[Teviko604]

Prompt 11 - The Mother

I am going to back to the north, which means I skip over the card that is already revealed and turn over the next face down card.

Card Draw: Queen of Hearts (Red)  Red royals do not change the potential, but they give you a save.  At the end of the game (second joker), you can turn over as many cards as you have saves.  Resolve any that add potential. Ignore any others.

Prompt: You have a sincere talk with someone you trust regarding your complicated feelings about your Rival. They give you some good advice: What is it?

*  *  *

Tuesday nights are always busy at the “Dice & Deck.”  There may not be a lot of customers, but there is a lot of work for the employees.  The new comics release the next day on Wednesday, and there is a lot of prep that goes into preparing them to be put on the shelves the minute the store closes. I was busy arranging stacks of comics behind the front counter when Elaine, Game Board member and unofficial “mother” of our Saturday morning group, walked into the store.

“Good evening, Lance,” She greeted with a properness that comes from maturity and experience, not to mention two boys who were both now in high school. 

“Hey, Elaine,” I greeted. “I bet you’re here for the new Tu’Akka manual.”

“You know me too well, child,” she confirmed with a big smile.

In additions to the new comics, we often received special orders on Tuesday, as well, so it was no surprise that Elaine was there.  In addition to everything else she did,  Elaine ran a bi-weekly game of Tu’Akka, Eternal, a tabletop role-playing game based on the Gallant World’s Comics title of the same name.  The game is set in a fictional county of Tu’Akka that is clearly modeled after the central plains of Africa.  Each player assumes the role of a member of a warrior tribe, each with extraordinary strength, athletics, or supernatural powers. Each game session, they battle against any number of villains bent on endangering their land.  The game’s developers have been working on a big update of the rules and the resulting manual arrived today.  Technically, like the comics, they don’t go on the shelves till the next day, but I kept one aside for Elaine to pick up early. Nothing like good customer service.

Elaine paged through the hardcover volume, which was about a third thicker than its predecessor, decorated with a variety of dark skinned male and female Tu’Akkan warriors, dressed in a mix of traditional battle gear and superhero tights.

“Ooo Wee! There’s a lot here,” Elaine said.  “I hope I can figure all this out before the big game next month.”

“Big game?”

“My fortieth birthday bash!  We’re going to start early that Friday evening and go though the night into the wee hours a’ tha’ mornin’.  Don’t expect me to be here that Saturday!”

“I don’t expect so,” I agreed.  “Sound’s like a big deal.”

“I’ve been planning it all year, Lance.  Forty years is a milestone, and there’s no better way of celbratin’ than with Tu’Akka Eternal.”  Elaine beat her fist to her chest twice in the traditional Tu’Akkan salute. I returned the salute and we both broke into laughter.

“Sound’s like a lot of fun, Elaine.”

“Ya know, you can join us anytime you want,” Elaine invited.

“I know, but I’m not really a role-playing type of guy.”

“It sure ain’t a tradin’ card game!”

“You know me too well, Elaine.  Anything else before I ring you up?”

“You should have a box back there for me, if I’m not mistaken.” She stretched to peer behind me on the shelves behind the counter where we kept the special orders.

I turned and ran my eyes over the dozen or so boxes and bags that were sitting there until I spotted her name.  The tag was attached to a box that was only a few inches on each side.

“You sure do,” I said, picking up the box and laying it on the counter in front of her.

She opened it and spread the contents on the counter. Before me sat seven dark grey stone dice -- the box listed them as black lightning zircon, whatever that was.  Their numbers were etched in black and each die was one of the traditional polyhedral shapes used for many role playing games. I was admiring them with Elaine when I happened to see the price.  Over $150!

“Damn!  That’s a fine set of dice,” I exclaimed.

“I’ve been savin’ for these for quite a while.  An early birthday present, you can say.”

I rang up Elaine’s purchases and checked her out.  As I slipped her items in an official “Dice and Deck” bag, I glanced around the store.  Other than a couple of my co-workers, the place was empty.

“Elaine.  You and Luther have been married awhile, right?”

“Nearly twenty years,” she answered, caught a bit off guard.  “And it’s Uther.”

“Huh?” Now I was caught off guard.

“His name is Uther,” she explained. “But don’t worry. E’ry one makes that mistake.”

“How did you two meet?  I mean, how did you know he was the one for you?”

“Now why do you want to know that?”

“I’m just curious.  That’s all.”

<Time for BOLD:  I’ll roll two waylays and see what I can do with them.
1. Bitter physical-pursuit overcome by a close friend.
2. Corrupt factional-authority overcome by favored ability
I can use the first one almost as is, and I can borrow the idea of corrupt faction-authority to create an obstacle that leads to the ultimate outcome.>

Elaine’s face took on that look you see when someone takes a journey down memory lane. “When I was in college, I joined the debate team,” she began.

“I didn’t know you liked debate.”

“I didn’t!  But Lucius Hamilton was on the debate team, and I liked Lucius Hamilton. Now, Lucius was a couple of years ahead of me.  I’m sure he had no idea who I was, but I was certain that by joining the team, he and I would spend more time together and he would notice me.

“Well, that did’n quite happen.  Mr. Moore, the professor who oversaw the team, was primarily interested in spending his time with the veteran students, of which Lucius was the captain.  Mr. Moore pawned us newer students off onto his student assistant, Uther.  Yes, my Uther, but don’t get ahead of me.

“Uther was officially tasked to work with us in order to get all of us ready for debate. But for some reason, he took a special interest in working with me.  The first week, he told me I could be a great debater, but I needed a bit of fine-tunin’.  I tell ya, that got me ruffled up.  Who did this kid think he was, tellin’ me how I should speak. 

“But he was patient and took his time.  He helped me with speech exercises. He worked with me on selecting strong topics. We even had a few mock debates.  Through it all, I was frustrated. I was there to meet Lucius, not this assistant.  The more time Uther spent with me, the less time I had available to be around Lucius.  It was not working out the way I planned.

“Eventually, the team competed in its first debate and I did horribly.  I was ready to quit, but Uther urged me to stay.  He suggested that all I needed was a little more help, perhaps outside the classroom. He suggested we get some ice cream and, while we are at the shop, work on our debate.  I refused, but he kept asking until I gave in, thinking it would stop him pestering me.

“Well, he didn’t stop and Uther continued to tutor and practice with me until one day, my best friend Vivian literally hit me across the head.  ‘What are you doin’ girl?  How long are you going be on the Debate Team before you start giving Uther the time o’ day?’

“‘Whattya mean,’ I said.  ‘I’m taking debate for Lucius.’

“‘Lucius!?’ Vivian said. ‘How many times has Lucius told you could be a good debater? How many times has Lucius offered to help you with your speech?  How many times has Lucius worked after hours, at an ice cream shop, no less, to work on an upcoming Debate meet?  And what about walking you to your dorm when practice runs late and it’s dark, just to make sure you are safe?  Uther does that all the time.  That boy is sweet on you, Elaine, and you better notice it before you lose him.’

“Vivian was right, and it took her hitting me aside the head to realize it.  After that, I stopped thinking about Lucius and started listening to what Uther was trying to teach me. I came to look forward to our practice sessions and mock debates.  And, of course, went out to the ice cream shop more often. Sometimes we didn’t even talk about debate.” She gave me a wink.
So, I ask again, Lance.  Why did you want to know that?  Are you trying to impress somebody?”

“Kinda,” I admitted.

Elaine gave me that I knew it look. “There’s no trick to it, boy.  You show them kindness and you be patient.  If she’s the one God has for you, she’ll come around eventually.  Is it Gwen?”

I must have flinched.  I couldn’t help it.  Of course, it was Gwen, but I wasn’t ready for anyone to know.

“Gwen?  Heck no!” I protested.  “You know how we butt heads.”

“I know well enough,” Elaine agreed.  “I’ve been watching you too ever since that cute red-head walked through that door. I don’t know if you remember, but you welcomed her right away.  Even asked her to play a game with you. That was sweet. I don’t know what went south with you two after that, but it was a shame.  Both of you were competitive, but kind.  You both loved our gaming group.  If you and Gwen had spent more time together, I think you would have made a great partnership.

“But I’ll tell you what I do know, what I learned from my time on the Debate Team.  God puts the right person in our lives, but we fight it tooth and nail.  We’re stupid and don’t wanna listen. We think we know whose best for us, and no one will tell us different.  But when we finally shut up and listen to God, right after He hits us over the head, we find out God was right all along. He gave us who we needed and once we realize it, our lives are blessed. Now, I’m not sayin’ Gwen is the one, but she’s a good, good girl, and you would do well with her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Elaine.”  I smiled.  And that’s the reason we think of Elaine as “mother.”  She has so much wisdom.

I wished Elaine a good night as she picked up her bag and headed for the door.  Just before pushing it open, she stopped and asked me one more time.

“It’s Gwen, isn’t it?”

I sighed.  “Yes.”

“Good!” she said, with a knowing smile.  “For a minute there, I was afraid you’d say, Morgan. Child, that girl is way too wild for you!”

I laughed as I again wished Elaine a good night.

==========
Image of Elaine gerated at perchance.org

[Teviko604]

Prompt 12 - The Campaign:

I’ll turn over the card to the right.

Card Draw: 9 of Clubs (black)  I am going to use my last Insight to keep from losing a potential.

Prompt: You and your Rival have to work together on something, but it goes poorly. You get in each other’s way, perhaps you even deliberately sabotage one another. How does it go wrong?

*  *  *

The Game Board held an impromptu meeting the last Saturday of October. After most of the players had arrived for the day, Elaine asked everyone to stop playing and join her and Art near the rear corner of the store.  I saw an empty seat next to Gwen and took the opportunity to sit next to her. She smiled, fine with my choice. 

“We have had many good and thoughtful recommendations for our featured game at this year’s Holiday Bowl,” Elaine announced. “While the Board and I have been able to whittle the options down, we still have four great options.  This year, we have decided to leave the choice up to the entire group.”

Being on the board myself, none of this was new information.  I guess technically, I could have been standing with Elaine and Art, but I had nothing in particular to add to the announcement, and I wasn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to sit next to Gwen.

Elaine went on to list the four games that were up for consideration.  It was no real surprise that two of the options were Andromeda Factions and Wyvern’s Retreat.  The third game being considered was Passage to Fly, an aviation themed game where each player runs an airline, and establish routes around the globe.  The goal is to earn the most points based on how many airports to which you travel and the types of flights you offer.  Passage was an old standard, but well-loved and a great tournament choice.  The final game was Mediterrania, a resource-management, worker-placement game set in a mildly futuristic version of the Mediterranean Sea area. Of course, the gameplay was very common, nearly every area of the globe has been used as a setting for a worker placement game. This particular title, however, was released only this past year and still on everyone’s hot list, which is why it made the cut.

“We have decided to hold a vote,” Elaine said after listing the four games.  “Starting next week, each contributor is encouraged to campaign for their game.  Tell people about your game, play it with them, maybe even set up a mini tournament.  Whatever you want, in order to convince others that your game should be featured in the Bowl. The campaign will continue for three weeks.  Then, the Saturday before Thanksgiving, we will hold a secret ballot where everyone will have an opportunity to vote.  The game with the most votes will be this year’s Holiday Bowl game.”

“And remember,” Art cut in. “This is supposed to be a friendly competition, and we are one big, gamer family.  These are all good games, so while informed critiques and comparisons are encouraged, I don’t want to hear anyone belittling someone for choosing a particular game, or worse, speak bad about that person. Is that clear?”

That seemed a bit strong, considering our group, but I was pretty sure Art was looking at me, as if I was the focus of this warning. C’mon, dude.  That hurts.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Gwen asked when the meeting was done.

“The vote?  Yes. In fact, I may have suggested it.”

Gwen looked at me suspiciously.  “Really?  That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Art and Elaine were leaning toward Andromeda Factions, but I thought it might look bad if they picked a game suggested by one of the Board members. So, I suggested if they held a vote, everyone would think it was a fair decision.”  Okay, maybe my game wasn’t really being considered any more than the others, but I thought it would sound better than the truth: a vote was probably the only way my game would be chosen.

Gwen held out her hand. “Then may the best person win.”

I looked at it for a moment.  It was only a handshake, but it was still holding her hand.  I took the offered hand and did my best to keep my hand from trembling.

“Agreed!”

*     *     *

The next Saturday morning, I arrived at the “Dice & Deck” ready to hit the campaign trail. My plan was to hand out a bunch of booster card packs to promote the game. My reality, however, was that I simply didn’t have the money for that many cards. Besides, Art would probably consider it a bribe and disqualify me.  Instead, I printed out some flyers to hand out that listed the highlights of the game and give me an opportunity to answer any questions.

Almost immediately, I saw that Gwen was taking this seriously.  All over the gaming section of the store were hung letter-sized posters printed on glossy paper.  In the middle was a black and white intricate drawing of a dragon or wyvern, with the words “VOTE FOR WYVERN’S RETREAT” surrounding it in thick, black, handwritten letters.  I had seen some of Gwen artwork in the past on notebooks she would bring with her or draw on the fly using scraps of paper.  She was good, but hers was more of a cartoonish style.  This wyvern drawing was more realistic with a lot of fine detail.  Then I noticed the signature just below the picture: Fisher.  Ah!  This was her brother’s work. <Using the oracle at rpssolo.com - Is Gwen a good artist? (50/50): Yes, but . . . she had her brother draw the wyvern for the poster.>

Gwen’s posters may have been more eye-catching than my flyers, but I still felt confident as I started handing them out and talking to people. However, as the morning went on, I began to understand why Gwen thought the card game’s interest was too niche. I first talked to group members who liked to play trading card games and they were very supportive. But as I reached out to others, they were less enthusiastic.  Either they didn’t play enough trading card games to be competitive or, if they did enjoy TCGs, it wouldn’t be their first choice for the tournament, especially if they weren’t familiar with Andromeda Factions and it’s nuances to begin with. Even Wayne wouldn’t commit. He was much more interested in the new game Mediterrania.

Desperate for more support, I searched for new blood.  That was how I ended up talking to two complete strangers in the comic book aisles.  Despite them having never once come to play games, (in fact, I never found out if they had any interest in board games at all) I told them all about the group and how much fun we have every Saturday.  I ended by handing them a flyer and inviting them to join the tournament.  They politely thanked me and moved down the aisle, grateful, I suspect, to have escaped my uncomfortable sales pitch.

I started to walk back to the rest of the group when I heard familiar voices from just around the corner of the comic book rack, out of eyesight.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” I heard Gwen ask.

“Absolutely,” Morgan affirmed. “You know you can count on me.  All you had to do was ask.”

“I thought so, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“Don’t be silly.  It’s fine,” Morgan assured her friend.

“Okay, and I’ll be sure you are paid. I just might not have the money for a couple of weeks.”

“You know, you don’t really have to pay me.”

“Thanks, but a promise is a promise.”

“And I appreciated it, but I’d do anything for you, Gwen.  Besides, I’m sure it will be fun.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was Gwen buying votes, the exact thing I was afraid Art would think about me? I always thought Gwen was fair.  I couldn’t believe she would do this to me, and just when we were becoming friends.  Surprisingly, I was less mad and more hurt.  Maybe she wasn’t the person I thought . . . or hoped she was.

Still in my thoughts, I stepped out of the comic aisle and nearly collided with Morgan.  She took a step back and held up her hand, stopping me before I could say a word.

“Don’t even think about it, Lance. I’m already voting for Gwen.”

She took off before I could respond, leaving me standing with my last few flyers. In a dejected whisper, I responded anyway.

“I know.”

====================
Wyvern Image from https://clipart-library.com/.  Poster created in GIMP.

[Teviko604]

Prompt 13 - The Reveal:

I’m choosing the card above my location.

Card Draw: 10 of Clubs (black) Lose 1 potential.

Prompt: You’ve drastically misunderstood a neutral or perhaps even friendly action your Rival took, and will not realize it for some time. How? What made you misjudge them? Did they go about any of it the wrong way?

This is an interesting prompt for a journaling game, as it requires the author to have knowledge of a situation that they simply don’t have, especially since the prompt states you won’t realize it for some time.  This can be handled a number of ways (flashback to an earlier misunderstanding, a delayed journal post, etc.), but I’m just going to make it a continuation of the previous scene. I don’t want to give away any spoilers, but I’ve always expected this event to follow the classic Hallmark Movie 1 hour and 45 minute misunderstanding trope.

*     *     *

I plopped myself down in an empty seat at a table where Wayne, Erik, and a much younger boy, Aaron sat playing some train-themed game.

“Man, you look like you just lost your best friend,” Wayne remarked.

Wayne

“Is the game campaign going that poorly?” Erik asked.

“No,” I answered. “I mean, yeah. What do you expect when even your friends don’t want to vote for you?.” I cast an accusatory glance at Wayne, who self-consciously dropped his eyes. “But that’s not it.  I just heard Gwen talking to Morgan.”

“Morgan’s going to vote for Wyvern’s Retreat,” Wayne stated matter-of-factly.  “So, what?  We all knew that.”

“It’s not that she’s voting for Gwen,” I said.  “It’s why she’s voting for Gwen.  Gwen agreed to pay Morgan in exchange for her vote.”

“See!” Erik exclaimed.  “I told you she’d screw you over somehow! But I never expected bribery.”

“Are you sure?” Wayne asked.  “That doesn’t sound like Gwen.”

“Maybe,” Erik agreed, but quickly resumed the hunt for blood. “But you heard her!  Didn’t you, Lance?”

“Yes.  She told Morgan she wouldn’t have the money till later, but not to worry.  She would get paid.”

“I don’t know.  I’m still not convinced,” Wayne said. “Maybe I can ask Morgan.  She and I are close.”

“Dreams don’t count,” Erik said, suggesting the relationship was just wishful thinking on Wayne’s part.

“Don’t,” I told Wayne. “I don’t want them to think I was spying on them.”

“You’re at least going to tell Elaine and Art, aren’t you.” Erik asked.

“I don’t think so.  I don’t want Gwen to get in trouble.  It’s just a game.”

Suddenly, Wayne’s eyes widened in understanding. 

Erik, on the other hand, just seemed puzzled. “What are you talking about?  Cheating aside, I can’t believe you, of all the people here, will just let her win.  You can’t stand . . . Ouch!  What the heck, Wayne!”

I felt a brush against my leg as Wayne kicked Erik under the table.

“Erik, don’t be a lunkhead!” Wayne barked.  “Can’t you see it’s not about the game? It’s about Gwen.”

“What do you mean Gw . . .  Oh!”  Erik stared at me, astonished. 

Wayne had a rare look of sympathy. 

Aaron . . . well, I think we all forgot about Aaron.

So the cat was out of the bag.  Everyone knew.  Well, at least everyone that mattered.

“I couldn't care less what game we play at the Bowl,” I said. “In fact, I’ve had fun playing Wyvern with Gwen these past couple of weeks. We’ve actually been getting along. In fact, I thought we might be friends. But now this.  It hurts to think she could be so underhanded.”

“I’m still not sure if she was, Lance,” Wayne said.  “I mean, she never offered Erik or me money for our votes.” He looked to Erik for confirmation.

“Nope, not me,” he agreed.

“You’re going to have to talk to her,” Wayne told me.

“I can’t do that.  She might not want to talk to me anymore if I accuse her of cheating.”

“But I thought you said she was cheating?” Erik pointed out.

“I did. But maybe I’m wrong. But if she did, then . . . uh . . .  I don’t know.  I don’t know.” I gave up in frustration.

Wayne sat back in his chair.  “Pal, I’m afraid this is going to be a tough one. You either chance it by asking her or let the uncertainty gnaw at you.  You were better off when you hated each other.  And you!”  Wayne directed this to Aaron, who sat up at attention.  “Not a word about this to anyone.  If I even hear you mention Lance’s or Gwen’s name to another person, I’m going to tell everyone you pocket your aces!”

Aaron stared back, uncomprehending.

“I’m going to tell everyone you are a cheater!” Wayne explained in no uncertain terms.

Aaron’s eyes grew wide in fear.  No gamer wanted anyone to think he was a cheater. 

“N-No, Sir!” the kid stammered.  “Not a word.”  He even pulled his thumb and forefinger across his mouth in the old “zip your lip” pantomime.

Then, as though our conversation never took place, Wayne got back to business.

“Now, we have a game to finish.  You can watch if you want, Lance, but please, no advice.  Who’s turn is it?”

As Wayne looked to others for an answer, I stood up, left the rest of my flyers on the table, and headed for the door.

==========
Image of Wayne generated at perchance.org

[Teviko604]

Prompt 14 - The Lunch:

Roll a die to determine direction.  Result is go up.

Card Draw: 9 of Spades (black)  Because it is the other black nine, we have to use the second prompt.

Prompt: You and your Rival have to face the consequences of how bad your collaboration went before. How do you deal with them? If the two of you manage to successfully clean up the mess without letting your conflict make it worse, don’t lose a Potential.

I’m going to have to wait till the end of this scene to determine if I lose any potential.

*    *    *

<At the end of the last prompt, Lance was leaving the Dice & Deck.  I’ll ask the next couple of questions using the oracle at RPGsolo.

Does Gwen see me leave the Dice & Deck? (I’m going to say Likely, for a couple of reasons. 1) It’s not a huge store, and the gaming group is primarily collected in one area.  It is very likely that any person would notice someone coming or going even if they weren’t paying close attention.  2. While I want to honor the randomness of this scene, I’ve already been brainstorming and would prefer that it happen immediately  Therefore, I will influence the oracle by nudging it in my favor.): Yes.

Does Lance make it into his car? (50/50): Yes.>

*      *      *

Shoot!  Gwen must’ve seen me leave because I noticed her in my rearview walking across the parking lot, calling my name.  If only I could get out of there fast.  If asked, I could always say I didn’t see her.  I turned the key and glanced in my mirror before backing out, only to see Gwen standing immediately behind my car.  She must’ve run the last several yards. I had to admit, she has guts.  Unfortunately, I parked along the curb, meaning I couldn’t move forward.  With her blocking me from backing out, I was trapped.

“Where are you going?” Gwen called out.  My window was already down -- crappy air conditioning -- so I heard her clearly.

“Home,” I called.

“Why? Are you done asking for votes?”

“I’ve talked to everyone I need to talk to.”

“Don’t you want to at least play some games?  Turn off the car so we can talk.”

I knew she wasn’t going to leave until I gave her an explanation, so I did as she asked and turned off the car.  Once Gwen was sure I wasn’t going anywhere, she stepped around and approached the window.

“What’s up with you?” She asked.  “It’s barely eleven. You never leave this early.”

“I’m just not feeling it today. I think I’d rather get some other things done.”

Gwen looks at me quizzically. “Is everyone just not interested in Andromeda Factions?” She said, fishing for a reason as to why I was leaving so early.

“It’s what I should have expected,” I said, hoping to give a reason she would accept. “The people who already play, like it.  The others . . . eh.”

“Don’t give up,” she encouraged. “ I thought you were really excited about having your game featured.”

I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What’s the point!” I exclaimed in frustration.  “I’m not rich!  I play by the rules!  Apparently, that means I don’t have a chance.”

Gwen stared at me, confused. “Rich?  Playing by the rules?  What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I am talking about!”

“No!  I don’t!”

“Unlike you, I can’t . . . I won’t buy people's votes!”

The rapid change of expressions that came across Gwen’s face was dizzying.  First, it was sheer bewilderment. Then it switched to anger, but for only a moment before turning into steadfast resolve.  She scanned the area around the “Dice & Deck,” then ordered me out of my car.

“What?”

“I said, get out of the car!” Gwen reached in through my window to flick the lock. Then grabbed the handle and pulled the car door open.  I shrunk back from what I perceived was an attack when she reached in and yanked me out by the arm.

“What the . . . “ I started.

“Burgers or chicken?” She asked with aggression..

“Huh?”

She waved her hand, pointing at two nearby businesses: Sand-Which? and Featherless, two poorly-named but popular fast food restaurants.

“Burgers or chicken!” Gwen repeated, her piercing brown eyes demanding an answer. 

“Uh, burgers?” I admit. I was a little scared.

“Okay, now get in my car!”

Gwen, having never let go of my arm, pulled me to her vehicle several spaces away.

*          *          *

“I thought you wanted a burger?”

I looked up at Gwen’s question as I dunked my Chicken Chunk in a container of barbecue sauce. 

“Oh, this?” I asked, wiggling the Chunk in my hand for emphasis.  “I guess I changed my mind.”

“You know, Featherless has better chicken.  We could've gone there.”

“Forgive me,” I said defensively. “I’ve never been kidnapped before.  I had to make a snap decision. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Gwen rolled her eyes.  “I didn’t kidnap you.”

“You didn’t?  You dragged me to your car without telling me what you were doing. Then you wouldn’t speak to me the whole way over here, leaving me to think the worst.”

“Do kidnapper’s buy you a Sand-Which? Chicken Chunk Deluxe Meal?” Gwen said, trying to get me to see reason.

“Maybe that’s how you lure in your victims?”

“Stop joking, Lance!”

I felt like a chastened child under her admonishing stare.  Those eyes.

“When I first heard you say you thought I was rigging the election,” Gwen explained, “I was shocked.  Then, I was pissed!  I thought, ‘the heck with you! I’m done!’ and was about to walk away.  But I didn’t, Lance.  I lost your friendship once, and I wasn’t about to lose it again.  At least, not without trying.  So I’m here, buying you lunch, and having a serious talk.  Why in the world would you think I was buying peoples votes?”

Lost my friendship?  When were we ever friends?

“I heard you talking to Morgan earlier,” I explained. “I heard her say you could count on her vote and that she would do anything for you. That’s when you told her you would get her her money later.  To Morgan’s credit, she did try to refuse, but you insisted.  You know, ‘A promise is a promise.’”

“That’s what this is all about?” Gwen said.  “Are you sure you heard us mentioned the vote?”

I considered my answer as I finished another chicken chunk.  “I’m pretty sure I did.”

“No!  You didn’t!” Gwen was annoyed.  I could almost see the steam shooting out of her ears. “Morgan was agreeing to come over and sit with Fisher while my father was at work and I had to take my mother to a medical appointment. Idiot! She does that sometimes when Fisher is not feeling well enough to be left alone. And, yes, she gets paid for that.”

“Sorry,” I apologized.  “I didn’t . . .”

“Why didn’t you ask me?  Or better, yet.  Why didn’t you trust me?! You know about my faith.  You know who I am. At least I thought you did.  Why in the world would I pay for votes?  When have you seen me do anything underhanded or sneaky.”

“The ‘Extermo Tent’?” I replied hesitantly. 

The whole restaurant turned as Gwen slammed her palms down on the table.  “That stupid card game! You still hung up on that?  I was a kid, Lance! Sometimes bratty, but still a little kid!.  How long are you going to judge me for being a kid?”

She dropped her face in her hand and took some deep breaths to calm down.  I wisely chose to remain silent.  Once calm, she raised her face.

“Just . . . just finish your meal and we can go.”

“I’m sorry.  I . . .”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.  Just eat.”

She unenthusiastically bit on a fry as we finished our lunch in silence.

*        *        *

I made on my reaction table to see how Gwen would respond when Lance accused her of bribery.  The table is really for determining an opponent's reaction upon meeting, but would work in this situation with a little interpretation.  Roll: 4 Hostile.  Not great, but not the absolute worst.  Basically, I decided she’d be mad, hurt, and not ready for an apology, but wouldn’t storm off in a huff., leaving Lance stranded in the restaurant.

I would say that goes down as a loss of one potential.  That brings the total to 4.

===============

Sand-Which? image generated at perchance.org and edited with GIMP.

[Teviko604]

Prompt 15 - The Call:

I can go left or down.  I’ll go left.

Card Draw: 2 of Diamonds (red)  Add 2 Potential: 6 Potential total. This is another second card with the same number and color.

Prompt: Some time has passed since you and your Rival had to team up. One of you admits a little fondness for that time. Which of you is it? When is a calm enough time for this to slip out?

The original red 2 (the 2 of hearts) referred to the upcoming Holiday Bowl.  Since that is still in progress, I don’t think this prompt really refers to this collaboration. Instead, I think the time being referenced is much, much earlier.

This also marks half the cards revealed. Based on my previous decision, that means the next Joker will certainly end the game instead of triggering a reshuffle.

*          *          *

<Who initiates contact?  (d6 - Even: Lance; Odd: Gwen) 5 Odd-Gwen>

            

<Texts on a Cell Phone>
Unknown Texter: Lance. Can I give Gwen ur #?
Lance: ??
Lance: Who is this?
Unknown Texter: Morgan.
Lance: How’d u get this #?
Morgan: I have my ways. <halo emoji><laughing eyes closed emoji>
Lance: <Vampire emoji>
Morgan: HEY! I’m trying to do you a favor. I can just tell her ur not interested.
Lance: NO NO She can have it.
Lance: Why?
Morgan: She wants to call u.
Lance: Why?
Morgan:  U tell me. What’s up with U 2?
Lance: Nothing. We’re just friends.
Morgan: With benefits? <kissyface emoji>
Lance: <red angry face emoji>
Morgan: JK
Morgan: Geez. I know Gwen wouldn’t do that.
Lance: What does she want to talk to me about?
Morgan: No <lightbulb emoji>. She’ll call you later. Bye.
Lance: Thx.
Lance: AND FORGET YOU HAVE THIS #!
Morgan: <monkey speak no evil emoji><fingers crossed emoji><halo emoji>
Lance: MORGAN!!!!!!!!

*          *          *

Silly me.  I thought later meant in ten or twenty minutes.  I wanted to be available when Gwen called,  , so I just laid my phone next to me and waited.

And waited . . .

And waited . . .

A couple of hours went by without hearing from her. Eventually, I gave up and got ready for bed. Wouldn’t you know it, right as I was tucked comfortable under my covers, the phone rang..

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lance.  It’s Gwen. I hope it’s not too late.”

“Not at all,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie.  Sure, I was in bed, but I much preferred speaking with Gwen right now over sleep.  “You sound tired. Would you rather call back tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.  It’s probably the wine. Morgan hung around a while, and we shared a bottle. I think I had the bigger half.” There was a slight chuckle in her voice and I thought she might be a little tipsy.  “Before we knew it, it was nearly 11. Don’t be mad at her. I was really pressuring her to get me your number. She didn’t want to, but I was pretty relentless.”

“I just want to know how she got it,” I admitted. “Does she do that a lot?”

“Hack people’s phone numbers?”

“No. Come over to watch Fisher.”

“Oh, yeah.  Whenever there’s a time he’s not comfortable being left alone, I ask her to sit with him.  Believe it or not, she enjoys it.  They play games, maybe watch a movie.  I bet they could talk for hours.  To be honest, I think Fisher has a crush on Morgan.”

“Does Morgan feel the same?” I asked, curious as to what Morgan got out of the relationship.

“Oh, no,” Gwen quickly assured me.  “She thinks of him more like as a good friend, something like a brother. I mean, she has a blast . . . and the pay doesn’t hurt . . . but I think she’s careful not to get too involved because of his condition. She’s never told me that, of course, but I can understand why she wouldn’t want to get serious with someone who . . . who might not be around for you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing the conversation might be bringing up some strong emotions.

“It’s okay.  It’s something we deal with.  Anyway, I’m just glad Morgan’s willing to help out.  It’s comforting to know Fisher is with someone I trust, and has fun with.  Lance, I wanted to explain about Saturday.”

“You did, and I admit it.  I was too hasty. I should have asked you,” I said quickly, knowing that I probably wouldn’t have done anything different, but hoping to salvage what I could of our relationship.

“Thanks,” Gwen said. “But there’s more.  I want you know why I got so mad.”

This was getting confusing.  I thought I knew why she was mad.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up,” Gwen explained.  “Not a surprise. Who wants to be friends with the fat girl.”

“You weren’t fat,” I assured her.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that just to be nice.  You didn’t know me in middle school.”

I wasn’t just being nice. I meant it. But before I could tell her, she continued.

“Then, when I was in eighth grade, Fisher returned to public school.  He is only two years younger than me, so we went to the same middle school for the next year.  I spent all my free time making sure Fisher was okay.  That he had no trouble getting around and no one picked on him or teased him.  Needless to say, I wasn’t winning any popularity contests.

“For most of my childhood, our family’s focus was on Fisher, so when high school came around, my parents practically insisted that I find something to do that was an interest to me.  I told them I was fine, but they nearly forced me to come to the “Dice & Deck,” knowing that Fisher and I played a lot of board games. They thought it would be good for me to socialize with other kids with similar interests.  To be sure I went, they drove me there that first day.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was nervous as shit. Sorry,” Gwen apologized for her language, “But the word ‘nervous’ alone doesn’t begin to describe how I felt.  I knew no one. I had no idea what to do. But you asked me if I wanted to play a game. A boy, who didn’t know me, was talking to me.  It’s embarrassing to say now, Lance, but I thought I was in heaven.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I was just being nice, something I’d done with tens, if not hundreds, of other newcomers before and since. All I meant to express was “Welcome to our group,” but it obviously meant more to her.

“When you won,” Gwen continued, “My greatest fear was that you might think I wasn’t very good and not want to play with me anymore. I wasn’t a challenge.”

“You’re crazy if you think that,” I said, knowing almost immediately that I was being too blunt. “I mean, you did really well for someone who didn’t know the game.”

“Maybe, but still, I went home and pulled up every video and strategy guide I could find about Turf Wars. I didn’t want to look like a loser.”

“You accomplished that,” I admitted. “In fact, after you won, you called me a beginner.”

“It was supposed to be a joke,” she told me.

“Well, it hurt.”

Gwen didn’t speak for several moments.  “I didn’t know.  I guess that why you stopped playing with me after a while.”

“I stopped playing because you kept beating me. Who wants to lose all the time?”

She was silent again.

“That was my mistake, Lance. I only wanted to be your friend. I didn’t know being good at games would drive you away.”

When I didn’t respond, she continued.

“What hurt me the most last Saturday was when you brought up your Turf Wars card. It’s not because I thought you were wrong.  It’s because you were absolutely right. You were so smug and sure of yourself back then, I wanted to teach you a lesson. When I saw you carelessly drop your card, I thought, ‘let’s see how good he is without it.’ I wanted you to suffer.

“But, I also wanted to be the hero. I thought if I found your card, you would . . . well, if I’m being honest . . . you might love me. Stupid, I know.  So, when you spit in my face, my world was shattered. You made it obvious that you wanted nothing to do with me. The person who once showed some kindness to me now thought I was a horrible person. And it was all my fault. My prank destroyed any chance of the friendship I was hoping for.

“When you brought that up during our talk, I realized it was happening again. That prank could still destroy our relationship. I got mad at you, when really, I’m the one to blame.”

“No, you’re not,” I assured her. “I’m the one who jumped to conclusions.”

“Because you knew that I didn’t play fair.”

“That was then, Gwen.  Like you said, we were kids.  That’s not you now.”

I waited for a response, and there was none. I lay in my bed, listening to the silence transmitting between our phones.

“Gwen.  You still there.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Let’s start over. Saturday?”

“Do you think it’s worth it?

“It is to me.”

More silence.

“It’s late,” Gwen said.  “And I’ve had too much wine. Saturday, maybe.”

“Saturday,” I agreed, and hung up.

Now, if only I could keep from messing it up this time.

===============
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