Sounds Good Ch. 01

With thanks to my editors, Alianath Iriad and Lastman416, who saved me from quite a few errors. The end result is much better than it would have been otherwise.

This story is dedicated to Deadduck, if he's still out there.

*****

- "Daniel!" My mother's voice carried - down the stairs, through the closed door of my bedroom. She had powerful lungs.

"Don't forget your Physio appointment! Four o'clock!"

I had to open the door before I called back - I just couldn't compete in a shouting match.

- "I know, Mom!"

I glanced at the clock. High noon, on the dot. She knew my habits so well.

Once upon a time, I used to read my email first thing in the morning. But I'd discovered that plugging into the computer at the crack of dawn was less than ideal. It was somewhat like starting a bobsled run - hard to stop halfway.

So now I usually began my day with a few exercises, followed by a light breakfast, and a cup of tea or coffee, depending on my mood. I read a book, or a magazine, or chatted with Mom, if she wasn't too busy - working from home may sound like a slacker's paradise, but my mother was conscientious and highly productive.

After a mellow beginning, I would tackle some of my online classes. The temptation to load up a game was always there, but I could always do that in the afternoon or evening - and I found that I enjoyed it more if I'd been reasonably disciplined earlier in the day.

By noon, my appetite for work was swiftly declining. I needed a bit of lunch. Mom found a dozen different ways to remind me of the time.

I ate by the computer, checking my email. A light meal, with light thinking as accompaniment. Today, though, was just a little bit different. I had a message from Mike.

From: TheLegendaryM

Call me.

That was all it said.

Sometimes, when I finished reading my mail, I still had enough energy to go back to work. Most often, though, I would fire up a game. But today, I was intrigued enough by Mike's request that I pulled out my phone.

- "Cyrano!" he shouted. That was my email address: CyranodeScarborough@xmail.xxx. Mike was amused enough that he frequently called me by my alias.

No - I don't have that big of a nose.

- "Hey Mike." I replied. "What's up? Why didn't you just call me, instead of asking me to call you?"

- "Aww, I didn't want to interrupt anything, in case you were takin' a dump, or jerkin' off, or somethin'."

That was Mike, all over. Classy. Elegant.

But he was also one of my best friends. We'd met at elementary school, where Mike had been one of the few people who hadn't laughed at me, or pretended that I didn't exist. We didn't become friends, though, until junior high, when we ended up playing D&D in the same group.

Mike preferred wizards or rogues; I almost always played a fighter. The DM (Dungeon Master) was a bit of a dick: we had a TPK (total party kill) which left us all stunned.

Mike and I lived in the same neighbourhood. It was natural enough for him to walk home with me.

- "Well, that sucked." he said.

- "You'd think he could have planned a more balanced encounter. Or he could've fudged a dice roll or two." I said. "It's like he wanted to wipe us out."

- "Got that right, Dan." said Mike.

From that moment on, we had something in common. It didn't hurt that we liked the same music. We also played the same online strategy games. Neither of us had much of a social life, so we had plenty of time for gaming.

When we were both asked to be play-testers for a new game, Mike and I bonded. He came over to my house, and typed his ass off as I provided insights and free-flowing commentary.

"Sounds good, brother Cyrano." he said. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

We tested several games together, belonged to a couple of the same forums and communities, and found ourselves agreeing on quite a few issues.

Mike was primarily interested in the mechanics, the nuts and bolts. He often delved into the code, and became a successful modder - a creator of modifications to the original games. I was more focused on gameplay issues: how it felt to play, and whether the controls were player-friendly (a bit of an issue for me).

I also tended to notice things that break immersion, like spelling or grammatical errors. It may seem like no big deal to you, but really bad Engrish can ruin the experience for me. Plot holes, continuity errors, overdone clichés ... lots of things can spoil a game - same as with a TV series or a movie.

Now we were talking on the phone, instead of using our usual email.

- "What's on your mind, Mike?" I asked.

- "I'm, ah ... I'm working on a game."

- "Which one? Titans?"

- "Nah. It's not a mod, Dan. It's an original."

- "What? You're developing a game? From scratch?"

He laughed. "Sounds crazy, right? But I have partners. One's doing all of the art - the other is handling the story, and the characters. I'm just doing the coding. But I do have input into everything we put together."

- "That's awesome, Mike!"

- "I know, right? And I was thinking ... well, I was hoping that you'd play-test it for us. In a closed beta, you know?"

Mike wanted me to be one of a small group of people who would try out his game. I felt a little flush of pride, that he valued my opinion that much.

- "What would you need me to do?"

- "Everything." he said. "Whatever you notice. Proofreading, constructive criticism, feedback of any kind, whether it's the gameplay, or the story ..."

- "Story? Did you say 'characters', too? What kind of game is it?"

- "Well ... it's not a strategy game."

Mike knew that I didn't like FPS games (first-person shooters). They were too frenetic. My reflexes weren't quick enough. I didn't have the energy to play for a long time, either.

I much preferred turn-based strategy games, or simulations that had a pause button, so that I could think before I made a move. A 'save' function was a must for me.

"Actually ..." said Mike. "It kinda is a strategy game. Sorta."

- "It's like a strategy game, but it's not a strategy game?"

- "Yeah. That's it."

- "I don't have a clue what that means." I said.

- "Well ... it's more of a ... dating simulation ..."

- "A dating sim?"

- "Well ... a dating sim slash porn game ... kinda."

I didn't know what to say. Sure, I'd played a few of those types of games. Okay, maybe more than a few. But I did that in private, and washed my hands afterwards. I certainly didn't write a critique of the experience ...

There were a number of things that Mike and I had never talked about much: politics, religion, girls and sex among them. I wasn't really comfortable having conversations about ... those things.

"Dan? You still there?"

- "Yeah. I'm here."

- "Hey - I'm levelling with you, bro. It's an adult game. There's sex in it. You ever play anything like that before?"

- "Yes." I wasn't about to lie to him.

- "Well, if I know my Cyrano - and I'm pretty sure I do - you like games with a decent story, with real characters, right? I mean, if all you want is to see tab A inserted into slot B, you could just watch porn. Know what I mean?"

- "Yes. But ..."

- "Okay. Listen: I really need your help. Your feedback. 'Cause my partners are really, really good, and I think this game could be special. Especially if we catch the glitches and the bloopers now, so we can fix 'em."

"It's still early; we've finished the first two builds, and we're well into 3.0. It's going to look good. That's for sure. Snogg is a frickin' genius -"

- "Snogg?"

- "The artist. Wait 'till you see his stuff. Un-believable. It's going to look amazing. But it's going to sound good, too. We've got voice actors lined up, and ... okay, I don't want to give too much away. But I really need your help, Dan."

- "I don't know, Mike."

- "Look - I know that you're a bit shy about this stuff. And I know you can't type pages and pages of comments. But what if you just jotted down a few notes - and then recorded yourself speaking your feedback?"

"You could just send me an audio file - your very own podcast. No conversation, no embarrassment ..."

Mike did know me well. In addition to all of my other problems, I wasn't just shy; I damn near went catatonic rather than talk to girls. I couldn't even talk about girls. I wasn't just a 22 year-old virgin; I was probably a virgin for life.

But could I actually talk about that sort of thing - if it was just with a microphone?

"You have a feel for games, Dan." he continued. "We want this to be fun, with a challenge, too. You've got great instincts for games - and ... it would mean a lot to me if you could help us."

He had me, there. I didn't want to disappoint Mike. And I was a little curious about this game of his ...

- "Okay. I'll give it a try, Mike."

Alea Jacta Est.

***

The very next day, he sent me a file to download. It was surprisingly big - the artwork was probably the culprit.

I didn't expect anything particularly NSFW at the very beginning, but you never know - I waited until Mom was out on an errand before I opened the exe. file.

The very first screen was ... a letdown.

It looked a bit like the album cover from Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti. A run-down building, but without anything interesting in the open windows.

The title was in big letters: THE APARTMENT.

The menu offered me the usual choices: start a new game, load a saved game, options, credits, and quit.

Options would allow me to change the screen resolution, or the sound effects. At that point, I realized that I should put my headphones on. But if Mom came home ...? I compromised by putting the left headphone over my ear, while leaving my right ear free.

I regretted it almost immediately. The music was ... ouch. It sounded like some techno geek was sampling Ravel's Bolero .Repetitive - yes. Hypnotic - no. Sensual ... not at all. It was just ... awful.

I clicked on 'Credits'.

ARTWORK & DONUTS: Snogg

STORY & DIALOGUE: Patience

CODING & INNUENDO: SBD

That was worth a little laugh, anyway, as I appreciated Mike's choice of a nom de plume. LegendaryM was probably too well known - at least among gamers. But SBD wouldn't mean much, unless you'd been on a particular Boy Scouts camping trip, when Mike had nearly asphyxiated his tent-mates by launching a non-stop barrage of toxic chemical weapons.

Silent but Deadly. No assassin. Just a god-damned farting machine.

That he was also given credit for 'innuendo' just made me laugh harder. Below that, I saw

VOICE ACTORS: MarshaB

Felicia

Girl3

Angie

Edna

Intriguing. Five female voices. I was interested already. Back to options - I turned music all the way down, while leaving effects and voices at 3/4.

There was no use pretending that I wasn't already fully committed. I clicked on New Game. A new screen appeared - a simple box of text.

You desperately needed a place to stay. Apparently, these five girls were equally desperate to find a new roommate.

Welcome to THE APARTMENT.

Five girls, looking for a roommate? A 6-bedroom apartment? That was stretching things just a bit. But I suppose if I could accept Klingons, orcs, and dragons, then I could suspend my disbelief enough to accept half a dozen people living together.

It could have been an off-campus residence for college students, I guess. But why would five females want a male roommate? Ok - desperate. Still, I jotted down a note to ask Mike about this little detail.

Another click.

What is your name?I typed in TRISTAN.

I can't help it - I love the Arthurian legends.

What is your occupation?

There were five choices.

Salesman

Student

Athlete

IT Specialist

Bartender

I approved of the opportunity to choose, even if I wasn't quite sure what the different options entailed. There were no immediate clues as to what advantages - or disadvantages - were linked to any of the selections.

Salesman or Bartender might involve some bonus to social skills. Was there a knowledge component? If so, student or IT specialist might confer some benefits. The athlete, presumably, was in the best shape - maybe that translated into some attractiveness, or sex appeal?

In the end, I chose the IT guy - that was, after all, closest to what I actually was. If money played a part in the game, I couldn't see that a salesman or a bartender had much greater earning potential than the IT specialist.

You arrive at the apartment, to see what it looks like, and to meet your potential roommates.

There was the image of a door, and a box labelled Knock on door to click on.

The next screen showed an open doorway, with a girl standing there. She was tall, with pleasant, open features, and a big smile. Hair in a ponytail. Green halter top. Stacked, too.

- Hi! I'm Heather. You're here about the room, right? Come on in. The words appeared at the bottom of the screen, but I heard her voice clearly.

Heather looked - and sounded - just like the very best girl next door I could possibly have imagined. Mike had been right: his artist friend - Snogg - was seriously talented.

The next screen had Heather showing me the room that was available. The interior of the building was in much better shape than the exterior.

- The rent is $350 a month - each. said Heather. That covers utilities, cable, and internet. We also chip in for shared meals, and that sort of thing.

Six times 350. $2100. Not bad for a 6-bedroom, plus utilities. Especially if Heather was one of your roommates.

- What do you think, Tristan? Would you be interested?

I was given a choice.

Sounds good.

I don't think so.

It may sound perverse, but I clicked on the second option, just to see what would happen.

GAME OVER (Good luck finding a place)

Fair enough.

I was offered a return to the main menu - that was kind of them. I went quickly through the opening screens, making exactly the same choices for my name and occupation. Then I knocked on the door of the apartment again.

To my complete surprise, a different girl opened the door.

- Hey. I am Laura. You must be here for the room.

I'm sure that my mouth dropped open.

Okay, having a different roommate open the door each time was just ... so cool. Did all five do it? That meant five different voice actors all speaking a few extra lines, but it also meant that Snogg had to deliver 8 more renders of girls opening the door, and then showing me the room.

I was to discover, over the next few days, that that was exactly what they'd done. I was very impressed.

I also came to the conclusion that Mike had seriously underestimated Snogg's artistic talent. This new girl was nothing short of glorious.

Laura was shorter than Heather - maybe 5'5", or 5'6" - but even more stacked. She was wearing a striped top which seemed to be missing a few strategic buttons. Her long hair was raven black, and could have featured in a shampoo commercial, it was so shiny and lustrous.

Dark eyes, full lips, tanned skin and a bright smile ... she looked like the ultimate winner of some latina gene contest.

Her voice was throaty, and slightly accented. The way she pronounced her own name came out as La-ow-ra.

Wow.

Heather sounded good. La-ow-ra sounded divine.

When she asked if I was interested, I clicked on 'Sounds good'.

- You have to meet my friends. said Laura. La-ow-ra.

Click.

These are your new roommates. said Laura. The next screen showed a tall girl in a green halter top.

- Hi. I'm Heather. said the girl next door, power forward on the basketball team, who didn't seem to wear make-up.

- "We've met." I said aloud, to myself.

- And this is Nalani. said Laura. The next screen showed a pretty Asian girl. Not Chinese - maybe Vietnamese, or Filipino - I couldn't tell for sure. Her voice was soft, but smooth.

- Pleased to meet you. she said.

- And this is Michelle. said Laura, when I clicked again.

- Welcome to our humble abode. said a light-skinned black girl. Yowsa. She had shoulder-length dark brown hair. Perhaps it was the straightness of her hair, or her nose ... Michelle looked like the very attractive product of several combined bloodlines.

- And last but not least ... said Laura.

- I'm Veronica. But please call me Ronnie.

The last roommate was somehow different. Long brown hair, a cute face dominated by an aquiline nose, and lovely eyes. Remarkable.

On the one hand, I wanted to dwell on each new screen, and appreciate Snogg's art. All five girls were ... well, they ranged from pretty to exceptional. Best of all, though, they didn't look like anything I'd ever seen before in a computer game.

Still - I knew that they were just renders. Illustrations. Works of art. While I admired Snogg's talent, I was eager to hear those voices again. Real women - actresses, admittedly. But the sound of their dialogue was almost more appealing than the images I was looking at.

I wanted to click ahead and hear more.

The next screen showed all five of them.

- So - what do you think? Want to move in with us? asked Laura.

Michelle was on the left. She looked to be 5'7" or so. A C cup? Mixed race, but predominantly black.

Nalani, beside her, looked positively tiny - 5 foot zero, tops. I was still wondering about her nationality.

Heather was in the middle. She towered over Nalani - over all of them, in fact.

Laura - La-ow-ra - was next. My goodness. Heather was stacked, but Laura was poppin' out all over.

Veronica - Ronnie - was on the end. She was taller than I'd first assumed, but still seemed small compared to the other girls, because she was so slender.

I sat back, and looked at the five women standing in a line.

Snogg did wonderful work. There was no doubt of that. But he - or they, if the whole team had input - had made some excellent decisions.

Tall (Heather), short (Nalani) and in between. An oriental girl, a light-skinned black girl, a latina, and two white girls. Two busty (Laura and Heather), one in the middle (Michelle), and then Nalani (a B cup - maybe a B minus), and Veronica, who seemed pretty flat.

The voices were all different too. Best of all, none of them were squeaky or fluty, or absurdly high-voiced, like in some of the Japanese video games. (Apologies if that's your thing.)

I leaned back a little further, and brought my hands together. That's right: I clapped my hands, for a computer game. It was that good.

***

I saved the game, and logged out. I was already impressed, and wanted to savour the moment. It wouldn't hurt, either, to let those first impressions sink in.

I jotted down a few ideas, and then decided that I had enough to go on for a first review. I set up my microphone, and recorded my first commentary.

The opening screen, with the run-down building. The nasty music. The humour in the credits. The choices of occupation for the player - did they make a difference? The different girls opening the door. Snogg's genius.

The voice acting. Snogg's genius and the voice acting.

***

I had a saved game, but I went back to the beginning and started out fresh.

Michelle opened the door this time. Nice.

I lingered far too long over the opening screens, enjoying the sights and sounds. Finally, though, I pushed ahead.

To my surprise, the game offered me a new set of choices. There were five roommates; a new screen appeared, asking me to choose a 'role' for each girl.

Athlete

Waitress