Page 21 of Level Up
Polymath:Your knowledge of a vast array of subjects makes you well-prepared for any situation, allowing you a 10% bonus to Parrying, History, and Science, and all skills improve 3% faster.
Rakehell:Your brazen reputation and libertine lifestyle have earned you enthusiasts and enemies alike, allowing you a 10% bonus to Persuasion, Distraction, and Escape, and a 20% bonus to Seduction (if your reputation with the target is above 50%); you also receive a -1 penalty to Defense if your opponent Hates you.
Razor-wit:Your quick mind and sharp tongue make you a formidable opponent, both in battle andconversation, allowing you a 10% bonus to Intelligence, Repartee, and Quick Attacks, and a +1 resistance to being Fooled.
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seven
hot in a nerdy way
I didn’t getto bed until after four last night—this morning? Late, anyway.
So I’m less than enthused when a loud knock on my bedroom door wakes me at—a bleary-eyed glance at the clock on my bedside table—nine-something. I don’t even keep my bedroom door closed when I sleep; Victory is just standing in the doorway, knocking on the open door as she stares at my blanket-laden corpse. (I realize thatcorpseimplies that I’m dead, but it feels accurate.)
Also, she’s not alone.
“Jesus, Vic,” I groan, struggling to keep my eyes open as I try to glare at her. I’m not even sure if what I’m seeing is real. “This is not what your key is for.”
“Pal and I were in the neighbourhood,” Victory says, thus confirming my suspicion that the blue-haired figure next to her is, in fact, Pal and not a hallucination. “And I figured you probably would be so busy playing the new game today that you’d forget to eat, so I brought this to make sure you at least have some food.”
She holds up a white paper bag and I can already smell what it is. The breakfast sandwich from Green Bean, with jalapeño havarti and peameal bacon. Victory thinks it’s disgusting but it’s my absolute favourite.
“Why are you such a good person?” I whine, dragging my hands over my face, trying to stretch my eyes open all the way.
“I’ll eat it if you don’t want it,” Pal says. I think they’re joking but I’m too tired to say for sure.
I hold my arm towards Victory, making a grabby motion with my hand, but she stays frozen in the doorway.
“You have to get up first,” she says. “You don’t want bacon grease in your bed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I shove my blankets off, pushing them away with my feet, and haul myself into a vaguely upright position. I glance down at what I’m wearing—a stained t-shirt with no bra and a worn-thin pair of flannel pants that I know have a large gash in the butt seam—and sigh. “And now Pal has seen me in my jammies, so that’s fun.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Pal says with a smirk.
“I appreciate that.” It takes a great deal of effort to stand, but when I finally do get to my feet and take a few steps towards Victory, she takes a step back.
“I’m going to plate this for you, because you would just eat it out of the wrapper like a raccoon,” she says, and Pal snorts.
“Do raccoons eat out of the wrapper?” they ask her.
She shrugs. “Probably.”
“I have to pee,” I announce, pushing past them and across the hallway to the bathroom. It was perhaps more information than they need right now, but neither of them objects.
I wash my face and brush my teeth while I’m in there, although I don’t bother taking a shower, since I don’t intend to leave my apartment all day. When I come out to the main area of my apartment, I find Victory making all of ustea.
“If I were gay, I would marry you,” I tell her as I walk past, grabbing the plate with the breakfast sandwich and taking a seat on my couch heavily. “I might anyway.”
