“Hi, Jon, I brought snacks.” Barion held out a huge paper bag filled with all kinds of unhealthy sweets, from Snickers bars, gummy bears, Skittles and chips to salted peanuts and roasted cashews. Four bottles of Coke rounded out the perfect gaming sustenance.
“Thank you. We’re going to need them.” He gestured to the two armchairs he had prepared for their gaming afternoon. “Please, take a seat.”
Barion stepped forward, scrutinizing the two seats. “Which one do you prefer?”
“I usually take my ergonomic chair, but since it isn’t here, I have no preferences.”
“Then I’ll take the left one. My peripheral vision is better on the right.” Barion was referring to the two screens Jon had arranged in front of the armchairs.
Once the demon had taken his seat and was reaching for the gaming console that Jon had placed on the low table between the two chairs, he put the snacks on it, making little heaps that could be easily accessed. The bottles of Coke went in the middle, where the danger of pushing them over in the heat of the moment was smallest.
“I see you’ve had to mop up spilled stickiness before.” Barion grinned.
“It was terrible. I had to pause the game.” Jon shuddered at the memory.
“We live and learn. I spilled it all over my keyboard. Had to get a new one.”
“The horror! Did you have a spare?”
Barion looked at him as if he was offended by the question. “Of course, I had a spare. Who do you take me for?” Then his lips split into a huge grin. “Still had to change it out—which took forever—then I needed over thirty minutes to get my flow back.”
“I hate it when that happens.” Jon was done laying the snacks out and took his own seat. He activated his console and the screen lit up showing two windows, one from YouTube with a stream of comments coming in. Jon cursed inwardly for having forgotten to close the account. Barion saw it as well. He stared at the screen, then at Jon, then back at the account. Jon could practically see the gears turning in his head. Of course, a gamer like Barion would know what this was about.
“Don’t tell me you’re PLM.”
“Don’t tell me you know who PLM is.” Jon tried to make a joke, failing completely.
Barion pulled himself up, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm. “Of course I know who PLM is—just the most popular YouTube game tester to ever set up an account. I have subscribed to your channel, and I try to follow all your live streams. You’re awesome.”
Jon didn’t know what to say. He was bad with taking compliments, and Barion’s glowing praise made him physically uncomfortable. He had started the channel partly out of boredom and partly because he wanted to try his hand in earning money that way. Never would he have expected to become some sort of Internet celebrity. If he had known, he would have never done it. Jon navigated the cursor to minimize the window.
“Let’s just play, okay?”
“I’m not sure I can just play, knowing who I’m playing with.” Barion grabbed a handful of roasted cashews and started munching. The rich aroma of nuts permeated the air, instantly soothing Jon with its familiarity.
“You can. It’s still just me, Jon, the zombie living in your brother-in-law’s basement.” He paused. “Is that correct? Sammy being your brother-in-law? Or is there another term you’d prefer?”
“There is indeed another term I prefer for Sammy.” Barion turned to him, the silver tattoos on his blue skin glowing in the semi-darkness Jon preferred when playing video games. “Pain in my ass.”
The words took a moment to filter into Jon’s brain, which was still occupied with how intricate the swirls on Barion’s neck were, where they peeked out of his V-neck shirt. “I’ll tell him you said that.”
“He already knows. I explain it to him every time he reorganizes my library.”
“Uh, I heard that differently. If I remember correctly, Sammy used the terms ‘chaos’, ‘absolute mess’, ‘without rhyme or reason’ and, I think, ‘dilettante’ in conjunction with you and your library.”
Barion’s lips twitched. “Yeah, according to him, the only reason he’s not taking my books away is because he doesn’t have enough room to store them.” He leaned toward Jon, a conspiratorial gleam in his gorgeous black eyes. “To be honest, I think he needs the challenge.”
Jon started laughing. Barion was so odd, in a good way. “I’m not going to contradict you on that. Sammy’s always looking for something to occupy him. Now, let’s get on with the game.”
They started playing, happily discussing all the choices that could be made, commenting on the graphics and interludes, cursing their opponents and comparing possible outcomes after certain choices. Then it was time for the chapter with the crones and Jon’s favorite quest, the Whispering Hillock Tree. As it turned out, Barion was just as enthusiastic about it. Listening to the eerie voice of the tree spirit, Jon tried to decide which choice he should suggest. He hadn’t lied when he’d said he couldn’t bring himself to trick or even kill the tree spirit. Glancing to his left, he saw Barion staring intently at the screens.
“What should we do? I want to free him so badly, but I always do that.” The demon’s silver tattoos were glowing, a sign for his agitation, as Jon had learned from Sammy.
“I want to free him as well. The horse is so gorgeous.”
“But then we’ll never learn if there’s a different outcome if we kill him.” Barion sounded as torn as Jon felt. They both reached for their Cokes, needing sugary reinforcement in the face of such an impossible choice.
“You know what? To hell with it. We are playing this game, so we make the choices. I want that spirit to be free. I want to hear it say ‘A word once given must be honored’ and know it’s going to save those children.” Jon took a huge gulp of the Coke after this impassioned speech. Barion raised his own bottle and they clinked.
