< You can't sleep right now. Continue? >
I came to bed late last night. J-F brings me a coffee this morning, and I try to talk out my predicament.
"I'm having trouble with my character — she can't sleep. She won't get into bed, let alone have sex. I think it may be potion-related — you know how many of them are java-based..."
J-F looks at me in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how much you sound like a teenage geekboy?"
I stayed up way past my bedtime playing a videogame.
For Helena's sake, of course. Watching her father play Fable II, well... she wanted to play too. When J-F started to worry that she'd undo his progress, I agreed to coach her through her own game. Better: we've created our own kickass girl hero.
We have an arrangement: she kills all the bad guys and I take care of all the administrative affairs, as well as kill off those bad guys that are either too tough or too scary.
We play nice, generally: work hard, follow the rules, love presents (giving and receiving), don't steal, dance for the crowd, treat the dog right. We make decisions, set priorities, consider strategies. We explore.
I watch her kill 100 hollow men; she ignores me rambling on about TS Eliot, despite the fascinating Doctor Who connection.
At the end of the day, there is business to settle: an inventory of treasures to manage, skills and weapons to upgrade, rents to adjust, relationships to maintain.
I want to keep our game-family provided for and happy. Having been away on a quest, it seems only right to spend some quality time together before embarking on another.
But I can't get my game-husband in bed with me.
I've tried everything. I buy a new outfit, dye my hair. My game-husband says he wants me, as do many villagers. But my character will not go to bed. This bed is worn and has a suspect history; so I buy a new bed. My game-husband asks, "Are you sure this is your bed?" I put the old bed back. I try a few pick-up lines; he suggests we go "that way." I can't be quite sure what that way lies, but it's quite certain he will not lay with me. "That way," in the direction he indicates, I buy a new house, a fresh marital home. But my old problem follows us.
I give up. I decide I may as well get some rest, restore my health. My attempt to do so gives me a message: < You can't sleep right now. Continue. >
Well, I can't sleep now.