Author: Yimon The Catman PM
I got a little obsessed and crazy during Retro's down time. If you're reading this, you're either one of those who play, or soon you will be, we hope. A story of my travels, sorta.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Adventure - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,943 - Reviews: 7 - Published: 08-02-05 - id: 2515202
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I don't own RetroMud, thank god, because if I did then the world as RetroMudders know it would crumble. And I would be left standing next to the big switch with 'OFF' written on it, and a foolish look on my foolish catty face. Yimon is the name of my one and only catfolk monk character. If you wanna IM mean on it, I'm a newb as of the date 1st July, 2005. That's a Friday in England. Also the week when RetroMud is down. No connection between that and the construction of this rambling.
Yimon popped into existance. Letters and numbers, symbols in all manner of colours flew around him, forming shapes and word momentarily, before bursting apart and zooming off into the depths of space and time. The effect was incredible, and Yimon looked around himself with awe.
"Wow...this is going to be. So. Confusing." He clapped.
The letters all lined up, some pushing others out of the way to get into their spaces. A brawl between a couple of O's and a capital C erupted, but it was quickly quashed by the tough looking H nearby. As the letters settled, Yimon looked over them appraisingly.
"'Hi, and welcome to RetroMud, Yimon of the Catfolk.' Aw, isn't that sweet? I feel so loved!" And with that, Yimon skipped off north, through a large door again into a big room. Again, this was filled with flying letters and numbers, but these ones outlined the shape of a high hall, and various objects around it. Here and there, a couple of floating balls of symbols were roaming about. Yimon looked down, and noticed that he was one too.
"Hey, what gives! I'm a Catfolk monk! Where's my body?"
A voice boomed out across the hall. "Actually, no. You're not. As of this moment, you're not even called Yimon, Yimon."
Yimon waved a finger. "Then how do you know my name, huh? If I'm not already called that, how come you know it, you big omni-sentient being?"
"Well, that's because...erm...oh, crap." And with that, the voice broke, and the letters in the hall went white, rippling from the distant ceiling like a mexican wave.
Another, different voice piped up. "Listen, cleverclogs, stop breaking the avatars. Just choose your name, your race, your guild and your gender. It's pretty simple."
"Well, I think I'm going to call myself Yimon. That is my name, after all," said Yimon the (future) catfolk monk, "then I'm going to be a catfolk."
The numbers and letters making up Yimons body came together, and turned into a proper figure, with arms and legs and...a tail. Heh. Catfolk. Yimon stroked the pretty tawny fur on Yimon's arms, then he stretched...Hold up. Yimon pulled his waistband away from his body and looked down.
"What the...HOI! AVATAR! Why is there a 'RetroMud' stamp where my...y'know...should be?" Yimon mewled up at the ceiling, hopping from leg to leg in anger.
The voice came back, this time tinged with amusement. "You haven't chosen your gender yet, dearie. Choose it, and you get your peewee. Or, y'know, three pairs of breasts if you're a woman. Cats get that...for some reason."
Yimon stopped hopping. "Well, that's easy. I'm going to be a dude, of cour - wait...so if I'm a woman, I get six tits? Hmm..." Yimon smiled, a grin worthy of a Cheshire cat spreading across his face.
"Oh, you pervert! Ew! Just choose a man, you vile creature!" the Avatar screamed from the ceiling.
Yimon looked up again. "So I guess you're a female Avatar, then? How's that working out for ya? Developing a pesonality? I thought that was a no-no for Avatars?"
The Avatar paused. "...It is...oh, you little bas-" Pop! The Avatar exploded, and the walls again went white for a moment, rippling from the centre of the room.
Another voice spoke, this one slow, and deep. "Right, Yimon. Choose a gender, and a guild, and stop ripping off a Terry Prachett book."
Yimon grinned. "Fine, then. Can I ask your name?"
The voice laughed. "Not so easy, boyo, I don't have a name."
Yimon wagged a finger. "You called me boyo, and at the moment, I'm like a furry Ken doll. Not a dude. Bad, bad Avatar..."
The fourth voice piped up. "Right, you. Now you do this on your own! I have better players to help! And I'm going! Goodbye!"
Yimon frowned. "What did that one do wrong?"
The fifth voice spoke. "Oh, we're not supposed to fear death. And I guess he did. Anyway, Yimon. Choose. Get on with it."
Yimon looked into the shorts again. "I choose male. SCORE!" He snapped the waistband of his pants, and did a backwards flip, before bowing. "Hey, I'm loving these emotes! What else can I do?"
The Avatar chuckled. "Try 'catail'. Go on."
Yimon looked over his shoulder, as his tail began twisting and waving. "Yay! Tail!"
He straightened back up, and looked at his hands. "Well, for the guild, cats are pretty suited to being monks, so I guess being a monk is a good idea! I choose monk as my guild!"
Yimon looked upwards questioningly, and the Avatar shrugged...before realising they didn't actually have a body, and so instead settled for talking. "You're a monk. Your body doesn't change, and you don't get any special physical stuff. I mean, I can see there's chi in your body, but you don't know how to get to it yet. You have to settle for some martial arts. But check your backpack!"
Yimon opened his bag. He delved inside, before pulling out a jacket, a cap and a white belt. He turned. "You've got to be kidding me. You think I'm going to advertise being a whitebelt? I've done karate in the real world! I know what level a whitebelt is! They're the wimps no one takes seriously!"
"Just wear the damn belt!" the Avatar said, with resignation in its voice.
Yimon mewled, and tied the bet around him, though with not a little amount of muttering and flexing of claws. Finally, he was ready and everything seemed to have been done. He flexed and unflexed his claws, before raising a paw to the ceiling and sheathing his claws, save for the middle one. The Avatar groaned. "Stop ripping off X-Men too! Do you wanna get sued? Just, be on your way, catboy."
Yimon grinned through razor sharp teeth at the ceiling, before sticking his tongue out momentarily and turning towards the exit. The Avatar called after him "Have fun, newbie! Just remember, the games bigger than you ever will be! Stop trying to be clever!"
Yimon looked back, just in time to see the walls go white again, and to hear the pop. He grinned. "What did that one do?"
The voice spoke slowly, and Yimon could hear the confusion. "I don't know. He just went pop!"
Yimon smiled again. "Must be my animal magnetism."
"Look, you're not a furry Bond. Get out. Go play. And I hope I see you soon. Cos it will mean you had your ass soundly KICKED! Bye!"
Yimon held up two fingers, and backflipped out of the exit.