gotta catch 'em all

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               Artie instictively tries to move away from the hug, still jumpy at the memory of his trusted therapy group turning into zombies and attacking each other violently. It’s a good thing he hasn’t seen Eric yet; he still feels the ghostly sensation of his teeth ripping into the flesh in his arm. 

       “Alright– alright then!” Artie jumps and puts his hands on Vanka’s shoulders, trying to peel her away. Either Vanka is not aware of her own arm strength or she’s too excited beaming at Artie, but boy does she give a strong bear hug. 

       “Don’t wish for any nonesense. It’s not too early to assume zombies won’t manifest in whatever,” Artie takes a look around them, “… wild western world we are. And anyway, you put the group in harms way back then.” He says, with all of the disappointed elderly energy he’s always displaying. 

       He sighs now, looking at Vanka. “Why did you have to go back for your pepper spray?” 

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        With great reluctance, Vanka lets herself be peeled away. She already misses the hug, but she guesses Artie’s not in much of a mood to give them out right now. That’s alright! She’ll just hope to catch him when he is in the mood.

        And then Artie just has to go and bring up... that. Vanka visibly wilts, tugging her cowboy hat so it shields her eyes, though it doesn’t hide the guilty slant of her mouth underneath it. “Because-- I gave it a name,” she falters. “It was Mr. Ouchey. Because people would have gone ouch when it sprayed them. And I panicked and threw it away, I lost it, and I couldn’t just leave it all alone in the middle of zombies.”

        It’s no doubt a familiar screed. Vanka’s said similar things hundreds of times during therapy. She knows she has. She’s tried to throw things out so many times, only to have to guiltily fish them out of the garbage.

        “But!” Vanka beams. “At least I got it back, right? And--” Her hands go to her side, where the pepper spray had been, and find nothing. After some frantic patting over all of her pockets, Vanka looks at Artie with horrified eyes. “Where did it go? I must have dropped it somewhere-- I’m such an idiot!”

✦

eric looked at vanka with half-widened eyes, unable to get a word out before he felt one of his arms wrapped by hers. in hindsight, the first level felt like the most unsettling fever dream, and that he was able to remember every bit of it made eric feel like shit. he felt embarrassed and weak for the way his body had gone into autopilot the moment that zombie disease had taken hold of him, giving into every feral urge without being able to put up any opposition at all.

“and miss out on the fun of robbing an old-timey bank dressed like this? no chance,” eric responded, feigning nonchalance and however much cool indifference the remainder of his dignity could afford. “hey, by the way, thanks for… being nice to me back there,” the man mumbled, as gently as he could amidst the overwhelming embarrassment. eric could remember vanka sticking to his side and trying to drag his uncooperative self out of the zombie-riddled halls during his last lucid moments. he didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it meant something and that went some way. 

“maybe that’s a question for devon or aza to answer–” oof, too soon? “i bet you gave those two a good scare. kinda sad i missed it — where else will i get to see you go absolutely berserk?”

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        Vanka’s eyes widen at the thanks, looking surprised. “Of course! What did you think I was going to do, leave you to be sick and wither away?” She squeezes his arm, beams at him, and finally lets him go. She just can’t help the urge to want to hug, like, everybody, but just about everybody seems to be not much in a hugging mood right now, so she figures she’ll keep it brief. “We’re friends, friends don’t leave friends to become zombies alone.”

        And yeah, poor Devon and Aza. They’d had to witness all of them go zombie. That must have been weird, and... deeply upsetting. Vanka’s putting on a cheery grin, but she still can’t quite get the images out of her head, even if they seem to be fading a little with time, like a dream slipping away after waking.

        “I will go absolutely berserk when we get to the Everything Is Tacos level and someone tries to forbid me from eating the tacos,” she promises solemnly. “I wasn’t very good in the fighting situations,” Vanka grimaces apologetically. “I kind of panicked. I’m not good with being threatened!”

“Because we have to talk to the head showgirl to get information on how to rob the bank. And when I tried to enter through the front door the guard stopped me and was very insistent that I wait until opening.” 

Jess was already frustrated, although that seemed to be her default mode. She didn’t expect the game to be easy, but she was hoping for a little more ‘shoot the targets’ and a little less ‘talk to people and be nice to get what you want’. That wasn’t her style, so she opted for breaking-and-entering instead. Looking up at the ajar window of the second story, she hoped no one could hear them. But the music coming from inside was loud enough to drown out the voices within, so she figured they were safe. 

“I tried to tell him that I’m a dancer but for some reason he didn’t believe me. He was incredibly rude. So, climbing it is.” 

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         “Wow, that is rude that he didn’t believe you.” Vanka squints up at the building. “I think you’d make a great showgirl!” Then again, she supposes Jess’s outfit isn’t very showgirly. It’s more nice lady on the ranch.

        Vanka’s outfit, meanwhile, is more I’m going to rob you at any second. Which she doesn’t think is very accurate, but maybe the video game outfits are just randomized? Or maybe she’s more of a badass than she knows!

        Vanka shades her eyes with her hand, finding the window on the second story that Jess is looking at, and trying to figure out how they’re going to climb it. There’s little windowsills and stuff, they should be fine. “Okay, let’s do it!” she enthuses. “And if we fall and break our spines-- it’s only a video game, right?”

         “Wow, I’d thought you were scary when we first met, but that was nothing compared to you as a zombie!” Vanka chortles, typically blunt as always. It’s not like it’s a surprise, she’s told Eric before about how she’d felt kind nervous around him because of his gruff demeanor -- but that’s changed extensively over time, and now she thinks he’s like a big squishy protective marshmallow. He’s adorable!

         Vanka takes his arm, hugging it between her own, grinning crookedly up at him. “I’m glad you didn’t stay a zombie. Did you hear, I turned into a zombie as well? I don’t remember it that well, though! Do you think I was as scary as you?”

         “I’m on a horse!”

        It’s the very first thing that Vanka says when they load into the level, and she looks absolutely petrified about it, frozen, staring down at the reins clutched in her hands like if she moves them wrong then both she and the horse might actually explode.

        “This is not ideal!” Vanka turns panicked eyes to the person nearest; Aza, wearing a big shiny sheriff badge. “You’re the sheriff, can you... tell the horse to stay calm? And let me down?”

         Artie won’t have a whole lot of time to adjust to suddenly being in a cowboy paradise, not with Vanka shoving her way into a hug, squeezing his ribs and clinging on. “You were so badass, Artie!” she enthuses. “You did the whole sacrifice play, taking out all those zombies right as you were turning, you’re such a hero!”

         She would have said so earlier, in the brief time they were out of the simulation, but Vanka had kind of abruptly vanished for 99% of that spare time. So now she has to do her praising while they’re dressed like cowboys.

         “I hope I’m half as cool as you one day,” she beams.

         "Holy shit.” They’ve loaded into the level, they’ve had a little bit of time to get used to their surroundings, and the first thing that Vanka does is poke at Devon’s chest, peering at him with concern. “You died in a really, really horrible way! I don’t remember much since I was, um, a zombie at the time. But you got-- wow, that was bad. Are you okay?”

         “So let me get this straight.”

        Vanka squints dubiously over at Christie’s. She can’t stop fussing with the gear she’s got on, touching the rough sleeve hems and the brim of her hat, marveling over how real it feels. She’d done the same thing back in the zombie level, but then she’d kind of forgotten it was a video game, so she’s going through the same astonishment all over again.

        “You want us to climb up the side of a building and talk to the showgirls? Because we have to rob a bank?”

               Upon seeing her,   Artie does a quick once-over.   She doesn’t seem to be wearing any merch with his face on it—   god knows where she even gets those things—   so he digs into his manners and offers a polite smile.

       ❛   Hello,   Vanka.   Enjoying the party ?   ❜

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  — @thecollectvr​.

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         “Guten Abend, Artie! This party is great!” Vanka declares happily, and invites herself in for a totally uninvited hug. She can’t help it, Artie is just so nice to hug, he’s all tall and lanky, and Vanka always makes sure to give him a good squeeze around the ribs to really let him know that she appreciates him.

         Sadly, she isn’t wearing any of his merchandise today. She always tries to wear it around him to remind him that she loves his music so much, but sometimes she forgets. Or, okay, she... kind of couldn’t find any of it in amongst all her clothes. She’ll have to make sure to find it for the next therapy meeting, or for their first venture into the new therapy!

         “So, are you ready for our venture into a video game? I don’t know if I am, I’ve never even really been into video games or virtual reality,” she admits, words coming out in a rush, “let alone in one, but it’s exciting, isn’t it? I hope it’ll be really helpful for everyone! I wonder what it’s going to be like? I hope it’s not like that scary one with the big man in armor and all the demons!”

tarrencaldwell​:

-

   He still didn’t know how to act at these things. Tarren tried to, but dinner parties, even with the group he’d come to know so well, still brought back too many memories of other parties. There’d been very clear rules and expectations then, but now? Now he was floundering. He made his way toward the wall, in search of a drink, frown forming immediately as he was stopped by Vanka. He looked between the two of them, before nodding enthusiastically. “Definitely, I love wontons.” He lied. He’d never been a fan of them, but he wasn’t about to say that and ruin Vanka’s ruse. He was too polite for that. He reached, albeit somewhat reluctantly, for one of the wonton’s and popped it into his mouth, praying he didn’t grimace as he swallowed. “Delicious really, thank you.”

Jess sighed and placed her hand on her hip, “When I called in the takeout I asked them to rank their dishes in order or popularity and ordered accordingly. the fact that the wontons have disappeared before the general’s chicken is a statistical anomaly.” she pauses, “Unless the restaurant gave me false data. They did say the peking duck was their most popular dish and I do believe it’s also the most expensive. I think they may have been attempting to scam me.” 

Her eyes go distant as she thinks about whether or not she still trusts the restaurant. Will she return to patronize them again after this betrayal? Probably. They’re two blocks away and they’re open until 11 pm. 

“Fair point,” she concedes to Vanka, “I did buy this for it to be eaten. And I guess it disappearing quickly is better than sitting in my fridge for three weeks.” 

She scans Tarren with scrutiny, watching his face as he recoils ever so slightly at the bite of wonton. She snatches the rest of the cream cheesed filled triangle out of his hand, and scowls at him, “They are delicious,” she stuffs the rest into her mouth, “and they’re my favorite so don’t eat them if you don’t like them.” 

The defensive eating was a habit that could be blamed on her brothers. The was far from the first time she’d grabbed food out of someone’s hand. She nearly broke her nose one time wrestling for a single chicken wing. Her face softens now that she’s gotten what she wanted, “Drink?” she offers Tarren, still chewing. 

.

See, Tarren has her back. He’s a good guy. He knows when to save people from having to admit they took the entire plate of wontons because they feared they were going to to waste, or they wouldn’t be available later. Even if he apparently doesn’t like wontons, which is weird of him.

She watches, unsurprised, as Jess snatches the half-eaten wonton from Tarren. Honestly, Vanka might do the same in some circumstances, she can hardly blame her. It’s better that it go to someone who can appreciate it! And she hears Jess offer Tarren a drink, but all she can do is stare at Jess and think where’s your stuff.

Vanka bites down hard on the inside of her cheek. where’s your stuff where’s your stuff where’s your stuff how do you live like this. No, she can’t say that, that’s rude. where’s your stuff where’s

“Hey, where’s your stuff?” Vanka blurts, “because your place is really empty.” And promptly looks mortified, cheeks flushing pink. “I’m very sorry. Please ignore that. Tarren! I’m sure you would like a drink!”

@tarrencaldwell & @thecollectvr

“who ate all the wontons? seriously guys, seriously?” 

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Vanka looks up from her plate where she has precisely all of the wontons stacked, and at least has the good manners to look mildly guilty about it. Wontons are just so delicious, they’re one her many (many) favourite foods that she’s discovered ever since coming to America, and she couldn’t help herself.

Also? She needs to distract herself from how creepily empty Jess’s apartment is. Seriously, it’s setting her on edge. There’s nothing here. It’s like Vanka’s worst nightmare.