Ch 14 ~ The World on a (Wireless) String
Today was the day. Megan just about catapulted out of bed a full half hour early, beating out the morning ritual of her smart phone sounding the alarm. A quick 15 minutes later, after attending to the matters of personal hygiene, and Megan carefully yanked her outfit off of the hangar in the closet — where the frock had hovered in a holding pattern in patient anticipation of this very day when it would finally drape across Megan’s body, step outside into the world, and see the very bright light of this very bright day. And how was this day bright, Megan confirmed in her mind. The possibilities for her future nearly blinded her, but she didn’t shield her eyes or any part of herself from those possibilities. Instead, Megan was fully jacked into and jazzed up about the path that lay before her because today was the first day of the future: a final interview awaited, one for that coveted position with that high flying company doing that way-cool jazzed-out thing that the market just loved loved loved…which sure beat doing things the market just loathed to pieces. Especially in these times. The economy sucked rocks for the past two years — didn’t it know it should shape up because Megan was finishing her last year in grad school? — and the economy outright sucked boulders now since she hit the job market half-a-year ago. But all of that was about to turn around. By God…if not by Wall Street. Who the hell could count on Wall Street except for Wall Street anyway? (I’m sorry, but that’s precisely what Megan thought…no point in trying to sugar coat it.) Because on a wing and a prayer — in this rocking slick suit that Megan wore close to the vest finished off with her skirt and its back pocket that she slid her smart phone into close to her hips — today was the day that Megan cracked the world wide open, started her future and claimed permanent residency on Cloud Nine.
She strutted her stuff, professionally appointed suit and all — a crisp navy blue jacket paired with a white shirt, a patterned shock of scarf inked in neon red, and a tightly fitted skirt — out of the house and forward along the sidewalk to her car. She was in motion. Forward motion, baby. Her hips swung, her tooshie bounced. And yes. All at once. Entire worlds rocked and swayed and moved.
The screen flickered to life just as Megan entered her all terrain vehicle, painted in an Electric Shock Yellow hue. Somehow the color was appropriate. Sure, it was bold, but it suit her. She had washed the vehicle and vacuumed it and put a shine to every inch of its detail. No one would care or know that the rugged earthy bit of machinery was incredibly reliable even if out of warranty. Megan still babied it like it had just been driven off the lot, and it gleamed extra bright today. All anyone would see was the blinding sun of her wheels, the blinding sun of her personality and talent, the blinding sun of her brilliant career.
Look out World, here she came. Literally. She arrived at precisely the same time as she had plopped her plump rounded tooshie onto the upholstered driver’s seat. She came or the World came — it was difficult to say which came first — but there the World was, and in it, so was Megan.
Except the base of her spine wasn’t so much fleshy anymore. Not that this was all about her backside, but the fact of the matter was Megan was flying by the seat of her, well, skirt, in this instance. But in this world, her skirt was more like a shredded loincloth and her backside was so chiseled you might as well pick your handholds and foodholds and climb up it. Above her rather unforgiving thighs and wrapped tightly around a waist that just about taunted for a fight, Megan wore a thick, weathered belt that carried an assortment of cruel weapons. She hardly needed any of them by the size of her hands and arms and upper body, all of which was punctuated off by torn elven ears and the low-rumbling scowl that rode the tail of a firery cresting mohawk. Body poised and flexed for something not yet visible, she stood in watchful wait for a problem that every one of the massive fibers in her body told her was about to erupt into this World. And then it did. Because life was filled with challenges and the life of an Orc was no exception.
“Can you move it along!” she barked at the long sea of traffic that snaked before her eyes. As if to emphasize the point, she leaned forward enough to just about smother the steering wheel with her breasts and barked into her front window for a second time. Megan was usually cool as a cucumber but she just *hated* being late and this unexpected mob of vehicles was about to seriously take the shine off of her day.
“ARRCKKK!” the Orc boomed incomprehensibly before catapulting onto the mass of bodies that formed around the front grounds of the fortress.
“Outta my way!” she yelled before swerving wildly across three lanes of traffic, just barely threading the open spaces within a hair of her life and that of everyone around her.
A giant ladder arched itself up into the sky and wound itself up into the air, as if biding its time before it landed on the turrent of the fortress keep. The Ocr lunged wildly forward and clutched at a rung, then swung her powerful body heavily forward and around until her clawed feet and treetrunk legs fixed themselves onto the handholds. She clutched a jagged knife between her foul teeth and leaned forward in an impatient wait that gathered in thick darkness for the chance to mow over anything that got in her way.
“HEY!! Loser! Where did you learn how to drive!!” She tore the words out from over her shoulder and flung them at the driver of a semi that came barrelling down the ramp.
Hurling herself off of the ladder, the Orc suddenly ripped the knife from between her teeth and lashed out wildly in the air at anything within arm’s length until she crashed with a punishing thud on top of the turrent and rolled onto the floor of the stone walkway. Miraculously, no one was hurt.
Heart pounding and she was certain her eyes flaring, Megan floored the pedal with barely a second to cut in front of the speeding truck before she launched her all terrain vehicle and her highly aggitated self onto the exit ramp.
It was a wild, bumpy chaotic ride from the highway to the side roads but somehow at last, Megan’s vehicle screeched into a stall in the parking lot of the high-flying company that did all the latest things that the market just loved loved loved. As she manuveured the vehicle, her body rocked side to side until she slammed on the brakes. A beep and a whoosh eminated from her smart phone through the tightly woven fabric of a skirt that threatened to suck her hips in down to the tops of her kneecaps. She made a mental note to check the device later. But for now, she kept it tucked securely in her back pocket, she smoothed her face, caught her breath, grabbed her portfolio, and dashed out of her all terrain vehicle to leap across the parking lot to the building.
Furry Rabbits dashed incredibly gracefully, even when they wear stiletto heels. Ears fluffed back, eyes peeled open, and her nostrils whiskering the air, this Furry Rabbit like all Furry Rabbits stayed alert at all times and mapped out a route before one even made itself known. Like the path of least resistance to the building. Megan’s gaze locked onto the set of revolving doors that made for the fastest route into the all-glass and steel facility, then with her eyes, she mentally outlined the full length of the path as it passed the main and guarded entry desk and into the bank of elevators. She scampered lightening fast across the clearing and into the safety of the pumpkin patch where she burrowed clear into the thicket. Satisfied, she blinked her big almond shaped eyes and with her furry paw smoothed the tufts of hair around her eyebrows. And then she sighed a sigh of calm because now — tucked into the back of one of the elevators behind a thicket of professional type people — Megan had smoothed the near panic of the morning commute out of her hair and face. She was well on her way to retrieve the carrot of a brilliant career with the added bonus that she could bank on arriving a pleasingly 10 minutes early for an interview for a new job that was going to launch it all.
“Good morning, how are you? Megan Than here for a 9:00 interview.”
“Good morning to you too, Megan. Have a seat please. I’ll let them know you are here. And good luck, by the way.” The receptionist smiled. It was a warm smile but it didn’t promise anything…like insider knowledge about the interview process. Still, Megan took it as a good sign that the receptionist wasn’t aloof. She returned the smile with the best Miss Congeniality expression that she could muster up as naturally as possible given that she was so incredibly excited that her energy flirted with nervous disaster, and after she thanked the receptionist, she quietly yet with a pleasing amount of self-assurance claimed the center chair in the waiting area. When she sat, another beep and a whoosh sounded from the back pocket of her skirt but had barely registered in her mind. Yet like all of the times before this time, the beep and the whoosh had occurred even if Megan hadn’t acknowledged it. But, how could she at this moment? The competition that began to file into the waiting area was thick and openly threw daggers at her. The thing is though that Megan would have none of their negativity. She was too excited. Because my God…here she was! Well, really…it was really more along the lines of:
“Anddddd here she is! Miss Virtual World of the Metaverse!” Impossibly long, impossibly gorgeous, impossibly sexy with all of her features impossibly refined and beautiful, and her mouth impossibly drawn in the most emphatic expression of confidence that anyone could ever dream of mustering. Yet Megan managed to muster it even beyond the extraordinary because the competition had challenged her to a deathmatch stare down. Nostrils pinched to the extreme and lips drawn so full yet so fiercely clamped together, it was a wonder they could even breathe. Stare down or no stare down, Megan had won and won clearly, so inhale all of the regalia of her beauty contest royalty she did. She smoldered in her gown as she glided down the catwalk. She set the world on fire with her Editorial Hairstyle and her layers of baubles around her neck that draped in worship on her curved back. She commanded the center of all attention, Megan did…even in the center chair of the waiting area where she suddenly dialed back the ramped up self assurance and lifted the corners of her mouth into a smile that broke the polished veneer away and that was delivered warmly to the Interviewer.
Gosh but this interview went fast. From the time they sat down in the conference room (where another beep and a whoosh echoed distantly down her ear canal) to the time when the Interviewer wrapped things up, it turned out they had talked for a couple of hours. And in that time, Megan stepped fully into herself and emerged as a masterful artist. She painted a very clear picture of the value she could provide to the company. Painstakingly yet with a real enthusiasm, she described every detail of how she could create worthwhile solutions that the company hadn’t yet envisioned. She presented and examined the Muse within the torus and the sphere, the cone and the prim, all the basic building blocks for creation. She demonstrated the language of building: the stretching and rotating, texturing and coloring, flexible paths and glow, hollowing and twisting. She laid out the heart of creation whereby piece by piece, link by joined link, she built an expansive vision for creating an environment that nurtured imagination, for encouraging the unbounded exploration of creativity, for fostering the realization of outright innovation as the aim. At last her ideas encouraged a conversation and their exchange of ideas and views reached a point of mutual understanding, mutually envisioned potential. Then when Megan asked if she could describe anything in more detail or answer any other questions, all that she heard was: “Welcome aboard. When can you start?”
She smiled in that electric shock yellow all terrain vehicle for quite a while before she revved the engine. She relived the conversation — especially the part of the job offer — and just about did back flips. Her mind threw a tiny party, delivered on the wings of a euphoria complete with particles and dancing. My God she was hungry after such a coupe! So hungry and elated, in fact, that she finally managed to pull her mind out of her reverie. Either that, or the incessant beep and whoosh finally tugged Megan by her chin and forcibly drew her attention to her smart phone. She yanked it out of her back pocket. She stared at it.
“Oh my goodnees,” she laughed. She rolled her head back onto the headrest and kept it there for a few seconds while she snorted at herself. At last, she rejoined her chin to her chest and gazed again at the image on the screen of her smart phone.
“So much for butt dialing,” she smirked out loud. “Looks like now I’m butt logging into virtual worlds.” She shook her head and smiled. “I always enjoy being a tiny. They are fun. hmmmm though…I do wonder what else I was this morning…”
And with that, she leaned forward and tumbled the keys in the ignition. She suddenly had a hankering to find the biggest stack of waffles out there in the worlds. Because without question today was the day for it.
Nanowrimo10 total word count: 2,410. Total wordcount to date: 37,700 of 50,000 (not including this notation).