Page 117 of Level Up
A couple minutes later, it switches to another clip. A different stream, a few months ago, where he’s roasting the game series for some of its more problematic elements, because he has no hesitation in admitting that it’s not without its flaws, including the gendered limitations of romanceable characters in earlySOAgames.
Another clip of him casually making jokes while his character’s health meter is nothing but a red sliver, and then laughing when he dies—for the third time on that stream. A warm, open laugh, like he doesn’t take himself too seriously and only cares about having a good time while on stream.
A clip from a few weeks ago, playing as Charles the vegan pacifist, where he’s avoiding combat because he’s trying to stayin character. He doesn’t mind being silly about it, but he still puts thought into his choices.
And from our first joint speedrun, when he defended me and said that I’m better at strategies than he is, when people accused me of cheating. Because he doesn’t think that being the most popularSOAstreamer automatically makes him better than anyone else.
I have over twenty-five minutes of clips compiled, showing the many ways that he is kind and considerate and clever and funny and weird and awkward and sweet and welcoming.
And none of this was ever hidden.
“Look,” I say when I return on-screen, addressing the camera again, “when it comes down to it, Scones doesn’t owe you anything. He doesn’t owe you his face or his name, he doesn’t owe you his personal life or his family drama. And he doesn’t owe you the heart of who he is as a person. He could put on a whole fake persona for his streams and that is completely acceptable.
“But I know him—I know Damien. And what you see in his streams, that’s all him. That’s the kind of person he is. That’s the stuff that matters. He’s not afascist, he’s not a Conservative, he’s not a homophobe, he’s not a gatekeeping asshole. He’s just Scones.
“And you already knew that. But it seems like you needed reminding.”
With a nod, I say my goodbye and end the stream.
I don’t think I can stick around to deal with the aftermath of all of this, so even though it’s still pretty early, I turn in for the night.
Let this be a problem for Future Me.
“I always knew it would end like this,” Hadley said, his voice strained. “With your knife at my throat.”
Mona laughed with delight—a sound he’d heard often. Her eyes, black as tar, glinted in the moonlight as she bore down on him, rocks digging into his back. He’d dreamed of Mona having her way with him, some day, but of courseher waywas this—the steel of her blade was cool against his skin, and if his throat bobbed when he swallowed, it would draw blood.
But, for the first time since he met the elven assassin, when she joined his boss’s crew, he wasn’t afraid of her.
“My, my, Hadley,” she cooed, leaning in so close he could almost kiss her. “How very wrong you are about all of this.”
“Then enlighten me,” he said with a gruff laugh.
Steel pressed harder against his skin but didn’t break it, and her lips curled into a smile, hovering over his.
“This isn’t the end, my dear; it’s only the beginning.”
— Excerpt from “Love Like Knives” by@MadleyStan194
thirty-one
convalescing on a fainting couch
I don’t havethe time—or the courage—to check my Play’N account in the morning before work. I do, however, check my phone. No new messages from Damien. I have no idea if he saw my little gambit last night or not, but I had decided to give him his space until he feels like talking to me, so that’s what I’m doing.
It’s hard to keep my mind off all of it while I’m in the shop all day, but I don’t let myself check the Play’N app on my phone. Partly because it always makes my phone crash, and I don’t need my phone or my brain imploding while I’m trying to work.
But the second I get back to my apartment at the end of the day, I wake up my computer and zero in on my Play’N dashboard. A ton of notifications that I’ve been tagged in community posts and forum threads, as well as comments on the archive of last night’s stream. I ignore all of them for now.
I click over to my private messaging tab and find that I missed several voice calls from Damien last night and this morning. He must have seen the video, then. But he didn’t leave any text messages in that time.
The only message is from about an hour ago, around the time his streams typically end.
A link to the archive of his latest stream. From today.
I open it immediately, but for a second, I think he must have sent me some sort of private video link. Because I can see his whole face.
One glance at the chat log, though, andnope; this was his actual stream.
