fic: virtually
Title: Virtually
Rating: T
Pairing: Soul/Maka, friendship and implied romance
Summary: AU. In which Soul and Maka are partners in a MMORPG called Meister.
Spoilers: General premise.
Chapter 1: Partners
We have located your meister.
the screen says. It’s weird. As though he once had one and lost one and cared.
Begin?
Soul’s fingers twitch over the keyboard. Like over piano keys. He confirms.
Maka Albarn
the screen says.
Your meister is not online.
“Maka?”
Fuck. The system has stuck him with a girl. Or someone who uses a girl’s name. He is equally wary of either option. He minimizes the screen and actually gets to work on a reading response assignment due at the end of the week.
Some curiosity of his twitches over the mouse and sends him back to the game screen. He clicks on the username, pulling up the profile.
The picture is a grainy image of a girl leaning against a brick wall. The color of her hair is dun, the shape of her face delicate, but not sharp. She wears a sweater. Her eyes are green. Deep. It’s the eyes that keep Soul from hitting the option to reselect a meister.
Her main personality trait is listed as “Determined”. Her secondary trait is hidden or unfulfilled. For hobbies she lists reading and cooking. Lame.
The computer makes a thrilling chiming sound.
Your meister is online.
Suddenly the relief that flooded him earlier, the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to initiate contact today, is gone. He can only hope that she is just as indifferent as him, hope that she’s just checking to see if he’s been located. She’ll sign off in a minute.
But she doesn’t.
Five minutes pass.
A small window lights up in the corner of his screen. He hovers over it. Options. Text message chat, video chat, voice. His headset is sitting nonchalantly atop the game box at his elbow. Maka in the picture stares at him with her green green eyes. Soul is hooked. He wants to know what this girl’s voice sounds like. It’s uncool, really. She’s not even attractive. He doesn’t know why it matters.
At first there is only a static crackling sound, two low pitched beeps. Silence. Then.
“…Soul?”
He loses it.
The voice is monotone. But richer in pitch than he expected. She sounds like a princess. The kind that ruled over armies of shadows among mists. The kind that wear long pale gowns and possess wisdom before wealth.
“Hey.” His brain is supplying the small talk for him for now.
“I’m glad,” she says. “I registered a week ago.”
Fuck. It took the system that long to find her a weapon? Or…? Soul stops that train of thought in its tracks.
“Did you complete the training?” he asks.
“Yes.” A pause. “I like your voice.”
He can almost feel her blushing. She is not the type of girl to flirt with a boy like this. He knows that.
“Did you want to be a meister?” he asks.
“No. Not at first. But when I did the training I liked it. If I had the choice now, I wouldn’t want to be a weapon.”
“I wanted to be a meister.”
“Oh. Sorry…”
He grins. She sounds like she means it. “It’s okay. I… I already spent my trial restart. Being a weapon is more challenging.” He says challenging like he enjoys that aspect. And he does. He should add “honest” as a personality trait.
“Oh! I’m glad.” Another pause. “Do you want to start training together now, or…?”
“I have to log off now,” he lies.
“Okay. Tomorrow?” There is hesitation in her voice but also hope. He loves the layers of it, realizing that it isn’t as monotone as he first suspected. The Princess image remains, though.
“Sure. Same time.”
*
In her own room, one city over, Maka Albarn watches as scrolling text appears underneath the photograph of a boy with hair almost white, eyes bleeding into the corners of the frame.
Your weapon is offline.
She’ll have to call Black*Star and tell him that she’s finally been assigned a partner. Not that she’s been waiting. Black*Star has been her friend since childhood, for reasons no one can pinpoint other than that they are both stubborn. Maka is the studious sort and he is a name muttered over the PA system. Just the name. As though the principal is too weary for anything else. Black*Star is the product of a split household, and he spends most weekends with his dad. Whenever Maka makes an effort to help him study for a test he ends up playing video games or computer games.
Three weeks ago he is fed up with studying and turns to Excalibur. An argument ensues that begins with Maka clocking him over the head with a book and ends with Black*Star frustratingly pushing her into his computer chair.
“Oi! If you can beat this level for me I’ll sit my ass down and study.” She protests at first, but when he explains that it actually involves strategy, she dives into it.
An hour later, he sits his ass down and studies.
Meister is a gag gift, then. But she sees it as a challenge.
Rating: T
Pairing: Soul/Maka, friendship and implied romance
Summary: AU. In which Soul and Maka are partners in a MMORPG called Meister.
Spoilers: General premise.
Chapter 1: Partners
We have located your meister.
the screen says. It’s weird. As though he once had one and lost one and cared.
Begin?
Soul’s fingers twitch over the keyboard. Like over piano keys. He confirms.
Maka Albarn
the screen says.
Your meister is not online.
“Maka?”
Fuck. The system has stuck him with a girl. Or someone who uses a girl’s name. He is equally wary of either option. He minimizes the screen and actually gets to work on a reading response assignment due at the end of the week.
Some curiosity of his twitches over the mouse and sends him back to the game screen. He clicks on the username, pulling up the profile.
The picture is a grainy image of a girl leaning against a brick wall. The color of her hair is dun, the shape of her face delicate, but not sharp. She wears a sweater. Her eyes are green. Deep. It’s the eyes that keep Soul from hitting the option to reselect a meister.
Her main personality trait is listed as “Determined”. Her secondary trait is hidden or unfulfilled. For hobbies she lists reading and cooking. Lame.
The computer makes a thrilling chiming sound.
Your meister is online.
Suddenly the relief that flooded him earlier, the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to initiate contact today, is gone. He can only hope that she is just as indifferent as him, hope that she’s just checking to see if he’s been located. She’ll sign off in a minute.
But she doesn’t.
Five minutes pass.
A small window lights up in the corner of his screen. He hovers over it. Options. Text message chat, video chat, voice. His headset is sitting nonchalantly atop the game box at his elbow. Maka in the picture stares at him with her green green eyes. Soul is hooked. He wants to know what this girl’s voice sounds like. It’s uncool, really. She’s not even attractive. He doesn’t know why it matters.
At first there is only a static crackling sound, two low pitched beeps. Silence. Then.
“…Soul?”
He loses it.
The voice is monotone. But richer in pitch than he expected. She sounds like a princess. The kind that ruled over armies of shadows among mists. The kind that wear long pale gowns and possess wisdom before wealth.
“Hey.” His brain is supplying the small talk for him for now.
“I’m glad,” she says. “I registered a week ago.”
Fuck. It took the system that long to find her a weapon? Or…? Soul stops that train of thought in its tracks.
“Did you complete the training?” he asks.
“Yes.” A pause. “I like your voice.”
He can almost feel her blushing. She is not the type of girl to flirt with a boy like this. He knows that.
“Did you want to be a meister?” he asks.
“No. Not at first. But when I did the training I liked it. If I had the choice now, I wouldn’t want to be a weapon.”
“I wanted to be a meister.”
“Oh. Sorry…”
He grins. She sounds like she means it. “It’s okay. I… I already spent my trial restart. Being a weapon is more challenging.” He says challenging like he enjoys that aspect. And he does. He should add “honest” as a personality trait.
“Oh! I’m glad.” Another pause. “Do you want to start training together now, or…?”
“I have to log off now,” he lies.
“Okay. Tomorrow?” There is hesitation in her voice but also hope. He loves the layers of it, realizing that it isn’t as monotone as he first suspected. The Princess image remains, though.
“Sure. Same time.”
*
In her own room, one city over, Maka Albarn watches as scrolling text appears underneath the photograph of a boy with hair almost white, eyes bleeding into the corners of the frame.
Your weapon is offline.
She’ll have to call Black*Star and tell him that she’s finally been assigned a partner. Not that she’s been waiting. Black*Star has been her friend since childhood, for reasons no one can pinpoint other than that they are both stubborn. Maka is the studious sort and he is a name muttered over the PA system. Just the name. As though the principal is too weary for anything else. Black*Star is the product of a split household, and he spends most weekends with his dad. Whenever Maka makes an effort to help him study for a test he ends up playing video games or computer games.
Three weeks ago he is fed up with studying and turns to Excalibur. An argument ensues that begins with Maka clocking him over the head with a book and ends with Black*Star frustratingly pushing her into his computer chair.
“Oi! If you can beat this level for me I’ll sit my ass down and study.” She protests at first, but when he explains that it actually involves strategy, she dives into it.
An hour later, he sits his ass down and studies.
Meister is a gag gift, then. But she sees it as a challenge.