LIT RPG 12

The large, passenger cabin in the limousine included a bar, and Jack, careful of his newly long, crimson nails, took the stopper from one of the crystal decanters and immediately sat back as the dark, earthy smell of bourbon assailed his senses. It smelled really strong, but he poured himself a drink, the brown liquor swirling in the rocks glass.  He took a sip. Wow! It was strong.

As he set the glass down on the little corner table, he admired the way his diamond bracelet sparkled on his slender wrist. It had come with the outfit, along with how pretty his nails looked. He decided to pose his hand for a picture, placing his hand on the table, fingers outstretched, the glass and his bracelet sparkling. Screen Capture, and the image appeared in his “Photos” folder.  Using his phone, he began to frame more pictures, smiling up into  the camera, snap, a sultry side eye, snap. He slipped one of the spaghetti straps off a round shoulder and pretended to look surprised, Snap.

“God Damn I’m hot as hell,” he whispered looking at the photos. Kiyo had a perfect face, but now with smokey eyes and glossy red lipstick, thick, mascaraed lashes, every perfect thing about her was +10. Jack tried out different smiles, tilted his head to the side, slit his eyes in a ‘come on, big boy” seductive look. He felt himself getting a phantom boner, turning himself on, his nipples getting rock hard. This was a new sensation– a double turnon, as he experienced both the decidedly female biofeedback of his avatar while also the ghost memory of his actual body. The end result was he found himself both craving to fuck and be fucked at the same time.

“Okay,” he said, fanning himself with his little hand. Better calm down before I show up at the benefit with sopping wet panties.

He turned his attention to research, scanning the tabloids for articles on his targets, Tommy Grant and Rene Brand. They had first appeared in public as a couple only a few weeks ago, and the gossip pages had been full of breathy articles about their whirlwind romance. Grant came across as a bit of a stock character– a work hard play hard CEBro who taken his father’s sleepy software company, Essentilus, and turned it into a world dominating behemoth. Rene Brand was also kind of stock. Small town girl who’d made it big in Hollywood, but in more than one article she’d complained about people not taking her acting seriously because they thought she was just another pretty face.

Hmmm. Could that be part of her motive in the body swap? Frenchie had hinted at some dark, secret organization, and Jack looked through the Rene Brand materials for anything that might suggest a connection to such a group, but–

“Here we are,” the driver said as he pulled to the curb.

“Oh, boy,” Jack thought, pulling his dress strap back up, smoothing his skirt. The fundraiser was not a subtle affair, at least on the outside. There was red carpet, roped off, crowded on either side by fans and photographers. In another one of those anachronistic moments, the photographers, men and women, all wore fedoras with press cards stuffed into the brims, and they had large, cartoon cameras with old fashioned flashbulbs.

The driver came around and opened the limo door. Jack felt himself flush with anxiety. As a boy, he’d gotten off more than a few times to a picture of Lindsay Lohan getting awkwardly out of a limo, giving everyone a look at her panties. He gave the driver his arm and, keeping his legs locked together, let the man practically lift him from the car and settle him onto his heels. Flash bulbs popped. Jack let his purse dangle from his wrist, tossed his hair, plastered a smile on his face and made his walk down the catwalk. He was practically blinded by all the flashes, only capturing glimpses of smiling, awestruck faces. He kept his head up, despite the fact he wanted to look down, both to see where his feet were going and to shield his eyes from the flashing lights, but it wouldn’t do. He saw a reporter ahead, stationed at the end of the red carpet and near the doors, and he focused on her, trusting he wouldn’t veer off the path and make a fool of himself.

Even in the midst of his stress and suffering, though, Jack felt a full body blush. He was the center of attention, and heard people murmuring— pretty… gorgeous… who is she? He was pretty, and pretty was power. He decided to put a little extra sway in his step and then, giggling to himself at the idea, he lifted one foot and reached back to adjust one of his pumps, throwing a “oops! Silly me” Smile.

The crowd actually applauded, and Jack beamed with pride as he made his way to the TV reporter and her camera man.  “We’re here now with the heiress Kiyo Fawn. Who are you wearing tonight? You look gorgeous!”

“Who–” Jack started to say, but then he realized what she was asking and smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his cheek. “I’m wearing Halliwell,” he said. ”And thanks so much.”

I’m on TV! Jack thought, looking right at the camera and waving.

There was a sudden noise of excitement from the crowd, and Jack turned to see another limo had pulled up. A tall, leggy blonde emerged, somehow sliding and standing with total grace. All eyes, including the reporter’s, went to her, and Jack thought Bitch! As she stole all the attention, and he suddenly found himself ignored, one burly security man opening the door for him while another guided Jack into the ballroom.

Humph. He glanced back over his shoulder, annoyed his moment had been so brief. Of course, he thought, the blonde gets all the attention!

Inside, Jack refocused on the mission at hand. He wanted to get Rene Brand, who he believed to be Tommy, alone. Making his way into the ballroom, where all the beautiful people, and they were all beautiful, had gathered in small circles, chatting, seeing and being seen. He spotted Rene and Tommy toward the front, surrounded by people, Rene clinging to Tommy’s arm, smiling vacantly while he held court.

“What's your status, honey buns?” Bretts voice crackled over the intercom.

“I have eyes on the target,” Jack said, ignoring the taunt. “I’m waiting for an opportunity to get her alone.”

“Roger that.”

Jack found a spot off near one of the exits. It was easier to be a little incognito than he’d expected in this room full of beautiful women, but even still he was conscious of the roving eyes of men settling on him and drinking him in. He pretended not to notice, fishing a little vanity mirror out of his purse as if he were checking his makeup, but keeping his eyes on Rene. Jack had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. As a man he would’ve been wearing a suit that covered everything up to his neck, but in his little dress he was showing a lot of skin– his legs, breasts, shoulders and arms were all bare, and he was on display for the pleasure of the men.  Also, he was cold.

He wished he could put on a suit.

He met a guy’s eyes. The guy smiled.

Oh, shit, Jack thought. He looked away, but when he glanced back he saw the man making his way across the room, right for him. Not now! Is he coming over to hit on me? Jack’s heart started to race, and he looked over just in time to see Rene whisper something to Tommy, then slip her arm free and start toward a side door.

Jack turned to follow, and felt a hand wrap around his soft little forearm.

“Helllooo,” the guy purred.

“I have to go,” Jack said, smiling. “Little girl’s room?”

“You want company?”

Jack shook his head no. “Maybe later?”

“Yeah. I’ll find you,” the guy said, letting go of Jack’s arm.

“And so the game begins!” Brett laughed.

“As if,” Jack said. He didn’t want to be too obvious as he stalked Rene, so he moved slowly toward the side door, not wanting to look like he was following Rene. Once he’d let a little time pass, he pushed through the side door just in time to see Rene entering the ladies’ room. Two women came out as Jack made his way down the hall, and they checked out Jack’s outfit, offering him smiles of approval. Jack smiled back, pleased he’d passed the test with these beautiful women.

When he entered the ladies’ room, he panicked for a second. It was empty! But then he saw Rene’s legs in the stall, and he went to the mirror and pretended to fuss with his hair, though it was perfect. Once more, he was struck by just how gorgeous he was.

He heard the toilet flush. The door swung open and Rene emerged, joining him at the mirror, washing her hands. There was a look in her eyes– pain, humiliation. Jack was sure she was Tommy, feeling ashamed that he’d had to sit to pee.  He broke the silence, “You’re so pretty,”

“What?” Oh, yeah. Okay. Thanks,” she said, and her inflections were the flat, emotionless tones of a man.

“I’m here to help,” Jack burst out. “I know you’re really Tommy Grant.”

The woman flinched. She plastered a smile on her face. “What a strange thing to say,” she said, but the words sounded rehearsed. She started to step around Jack, heading toward the door, and now she looked afraid.

“I saw the film,” Jack said, cutting her off, getting between her and the door. “I know the truth.”

“That?” Rene said. “It was an old movie I made years ago. You are mistaken.” Once more, she tried to get around Jack, and Jack once more blocked her.

“I– I’ll scream,” Rene said.

“Tommy,” Jack said. “I can help you. I can help you get your body back, but this is your one chance. Walk out that door, and you have no hope. Come with me, and you will get out of this.”

Rene paused, calculating. “Who are you?”

“I’m working with Frenchie,” Jack said, deciding to take a chance.

“Frenchie? He knows?”

“Yes. We’re running out of time. You must decide now.”

“Let’s go,” Tommy said. “Get me the hell out of here.”

“Yahtzee!” Brett said.

“Come on!” Jack said, leading the way, Tommy following close behind. “Navigator?”

Brett had pulled up the mission map and saw Jack’s location on a schematic of the hotel. End of the hall. Take a right. There’s a door. I’m heading that way right now.”

Jack and Tommy were moving away from the ballroom, and there were no people. When he came to the turn, he put his back flat against the wall, then peered around the corner. No one. This was too easy, and it made him nervous. Had they hit on the right plan, or was this a set up.

Tommy continued to follow. Jack was grateful he wasn’t one of those talky NPCs who kept dumping backstory while you tried to focus on a quest.

The two of them crept down the hall, Jack listening, looking, sure a guard would pop up any minute. Or he’d trip some kind of alarm. Or– something would happen. He got to the exit. A sign read Emergency Only. Alarm will sound.

“What now?” Tommy asked.

“I can defuse it.”

“Come on. There’s a security guard down at the end of the alley looking at me suspiciously.”

Jack tried “disarm trap.”

FAIL.

“Shit.”

Outside, Brett was leaning against the wall, trying to look like some casual pedestrian just hanging out, wishing he’d opted to equip some everyday street clothes. He didn’t know how smart the game’s AI was, but a tall, muscular woman in battle armor probably looked out of place pretty much anywhere.

A light appeared above the guard, blinking green and red. “Hey, you,” he said, starting down the alley toward Brett.

“Shit,” Brett said. “Hold on. We have company.”

“Damnit,” Jack whispered, trying to disarm the fire alarm a second time.

FAIL.

“What is it?”

“Guard outside. My partner is going to try and get rid of him.”

“Hurry.”

Just then, they heard a distant voice. “She said she was just going to the ladies’ room.”

“Rene!” Tommy gasped. “She must be getting nervous. I’ve been gone so long.”

“I’ll check on her for you,” a woman answered.

“We’re running out of time,” Jack said over the intercom.

“Yup,” Brett answered.

The guard was now close. “Move on,” he said. “No loitering.”

“Sure,” Brett said, walking back in the direction the guard had come from– the main street in front of the ballroom. “I’m going to lead him away,” Brett said over the intercom. “As soon as the coast is clear, sneak out.”

“That could be a problem,” Jack said. ”There’s an alarm on the door.”

Back down the hall, they heard a door creak open. Then, a moment later: “There’s no one in there.”

“Shit,” Rene said. “Alert all security. FInd her! Now!”

Jack glanced back and now he spotted it– a security camera at the other end of the hall, pointing right at him.

Outside, Brett walked by the guard, expecting to be followed, but the man moved toward the door, pulling out a security card. Fuck it, Brett decided. He’d been wanting some action. He kidney punched the man, locked an arm around his throat and started to choke him.

“What’s going on?” Jack said, hearing the sounds of struggle over the intercom.

“Tommy!” They heard a man shout. It was Rene. She’d come to the end of the hall and spotted them. “You stupid bitch!”

“Run!” Jack said, shoving the door open. Whoop. Whoop. The alarm sounded.

Jack plunged into the alley and saw Brett struggling with the guard. “Go!” Brett shouted. “I’ll hold  them off.”

“Come on!” Jack said, and then he saw a new problem. While the game, mercifully, did not impose the limits of his heels on him, it was not the same for an NPC, evidently. Tommy was mincing along, arms waving as he struggled to maintain his balance, tottering precariously on his stilettos.  “Lose the shoes!” Jack said.

Tommy nodded, kicking off his heels. “Yes!”  He said, now running along with Jack. Thankfully, the game didn’t account for tender feet, and the two women bolted from the alley and out onto the main drag.

Brett finished off the guard he’d been fighting, but just as he turned to run as well, the door to the ballroom slammed open and blue clad security poured out. “Yes!” Brett shouted, equipping his assault rifle and shooting as he backed away. Pop. Pop. Pop. He caught one in the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground, hit another in the head.

“You okay?” Jack said, seeing the flashes from the alley, hearing the gunfire.

“Great,” Brett said. “Get out of here.”

Jack saw a Ferrari on the street. Sweet. He ran to the car door and initiated a hijack, watching as his character grabbed the man behind the wheel and dragged him out of the car. “Get in!”

Tommy jumped in the passenger side, and Jack floored it, the car peeling out in a cloud of black smoke.

POLICE HAVE BEEN ALERTED! The game informed him. Come on! Jack said. In most of these games, you just had to clear the zone where a crime was committed and you were free, so he just drove, weaving in and out of traffic, accidentally clipping a motorcycle and sending the driver crashing into a row of trash cans.

Brett, meanwhile, felt something slam into his chest. His armor held, but he lost two hit points, and the security guys were now firing away, bullets whizzing all around him.  They’d take him down eventually, so he grabbed a smoke grenade from his inventory and lobbed it, the canister exploding and flooding the alley with a gray cloud. Brett blasted into the cloud, then turned and ran.

Like Jack, he knew he only needed to put some distance between he and any pursuers, and he would be free. He sprinted to the main street, turned and ran down the sidewalk away from the ballroom, bumping into and knocking over pedestrians, turning down the first side street he saw, zig zagging. His character was marked red, so he wasn’t in the clear.

He ran as hard and as fast as he could before he turned green, and then he ducked behind a truck and sank to the ground, his character’s endurance nearly at zero.

Jack, meanwhile, cursed his luck as he blasted past a police cruiser, which immediately hit the lights and was now in pursuit. If they’d been on a straight away, he could have easily outrun the cops, but in traffic he couldn’t get anywhere near top speed. There were cars in front of him now, blocking the road, so he rammed one in the rear. With a loud crunch, the hood of his car buckled and black smoke started to pour from the engine, a rattling noise filling the cabin, but the car he’d rammed fishtailed and spun out of his way.

“Rene stole my body,” Tommy said. “She wanted my power.”

Oh, great, Jack thought. Here comes the lore dump. He jerked the wheel right, left, dodging cars, the cops right behind.

“She belongs to a group called The Foremost. They want to take over the world!”

Of course they do, Jack thought. Doesn’t every evil group?

He saw a side street and decided to take a chance. Waiting until almost the last possible second, he slammed the brakes and spun the wheel, his car jackknifing, slamming against a street lamp and careening down the side road. The cops weren’t so lucky, as their car, nowhere near the performance level of a ferrari, rolled and crashed into a store front, exploding in flames.

“Yes!” Jack said, glancing back on the carnage. In another moment, they crossed into a new zone, and they were free.

Jack felt Tommy place his hand on Jack’s bare knee. Squeeze. He glanced over at Tommy, who raised a slender eyebrow. “You saved me,” Tommy said, and his eyes promised a world of rewards that made Jack’s heart race.

“Let’s go back to my place.”

“Let’s,” Tommy said.