...that's a video game popup window.

A video game popup window, in her real live field of vision.

It has a scrollbar.

She stares at it.

When it doesn't go anywhere after five seconds, she reaches out and scrolls down.

She reads through the whole thing, carefully, and then scrolls back to the top and reads it again.

"Huh," she says.

She grabs her phone, starts recording video, puts it down with a good view of her face, and taps the + next to BOD.

BOD: 25 (+)
LST: 23 (+)
SED: 25 (+)
FUK: 18 (+)
PRV: 39 (+)
ERO: 10 (+)

Does she feel a little different? Hard to tell.

+ + + +

BOD: 29
LST: 23
SED: 25
FUK: 18
PRV: 39
ERO: 10

A skill has been created! Having an absurdly high PRV for a starting character has created the skill: Rape Beacon.

"The what now," she says, staring.

Info/Skills/Rape Beacon

Rape Beacon: Active, LVL 1(0%), rewards 10*LVL SUB/hour

If someone is going to get raped, and that person could possibly be you, this skill raises that chance by 10%/level. This skill is active by default. 

What a terrible skill, what a terrible game, what the fuck kind of joke is this—

—but now she's thinking about it—about going through her life just like normal, and then she's at a party and picks up the wrong drink—walking home from a late class and gets shoved against the wall of an alley—these things don't happen all that often on a population level, but if you concentrated it all down into one person—she should definitely turn off this skill but there is definitely a part of her that does not want to turn off this skill—

Contemplating being taken against your will by a variety of rapists has caused the potential for your PRV to go up by 1!

Quest Available: Consensual Nonconsent

Find a way to communicate to someone (or lots of people, for bonus XP), credibly, that it's absolutely cool with you if they rape you, while maintaining deniability in the moment such that you don't know who's just a rapist and who saw your ad until it's postrape snuggle time.

Success: +2,500xp, increased relations with Christian Dale, unlocks Consensual Nonconsent II

Failure: Disappointingly, your consent remains respected.

Accept: Y/N

—who is Christian Dale, and is he column A or column B, rape-wise?

Well. She is undeniably tempted to find out.

And the game did promise that taking attractive risks will at worst turn out just as well as being reasonable. If they're sexually attractive risks in particular. Which this is.

...she picks up her phone and watches its video. It can't see the floating violet light, but it did a decent job of capturing the gradual five-point increase in her prettiness as she tapped the button.

This is a dumb idea but hey, if the inexplicable magical force or entity that just turned her life into a video game about rape isn't being honest with her about its guarantees, she is fucked whether she plays along or not.

She taps Y.

The pink-violet words vanish. 

"Time to make some fun changes to my social life, I guess."

The Erogame fails to respond to her snark. 

Okay so the first thing she needs to do here is research. Time to google.

...it's surprisingly hard to get from a google search for the word 'erogame' to any actual media she can consume, but she perseveres. If this is her life now, she'd better get familiar with the genre conventions.

If she tries hard and believes in herself, she can find ero.

Eroge varies in tone and precise level of sexy content. Some are romantic, some are horrifying; some are cute, some are monstrous; some are meaningfully censorable into something PG with the same storyline, and some...aren't.

Oh goodness.

Quest Available: The Great Outdoors

Don't just sit in front of your computer all day! Go outside! Enjoy the fresh air, the crisp autumn leaves. The hot college students still fresh from summer break. Bang one of them in the great outdoors.

Success: 500xp, "Exhibitionist" status

Failure: You remain tragically unfucked.

Accept: Y/N

Oh, that one's not even scary. Y. She throws on a cute outfit and goes out in search of hot college students.

There's one! Sitting on a bench nearby, peering over a textbook.

Ooh, pretty. Naomi goes thataway.

"Hi, what's up?"

She looks up and gestures at the book. "Chemistry." She gestures at a shopping bag full of objects on the other side of her. "And art. People give me such odd looks when I tell them I'm waffling between a STEM field and art for my major."

"I guess that's unusual but, like, not that unusual."

"It's unusual enough, apparently. Any idea what you want to major in?"

"Oh, I'm on the art side, no question. My life's passion is calligraphy so if I can't find any rich people to seduce for their money I'm going to do, like, web design, calligraphy not being a lucrative career in the twenty-first century."

She giggles. "See, I have a rich mom, so I don't need to seduce anyone. Please don't seduce my mom, that would be weird."

"I promise not to seduce your mom!" she says cheerfully. "What are my prospects for seducing you?"

"Now that would be telling."

"A promising answer."

"I promise nothing."

"Hmm. If I say somebody dared me to go out and get laid, does that make my chances better or worse?"

"--Worse, it's much more attractive if you want to have sex with me because of compelling characteristics I possess than because I'm the first pretty person you came across."

"You are the first pretty person I came across but I also find you charming on your own merits. If it was just that you were the first pretty person I came across, I'd still want to have sex with you but I wouldn't also want to be your friend."

"--Okay, when you phrase it like that you're back to incredibly charming."

She beams.

"I would also like to be your friend. My name's Emily, what's yours?"

"Naomi! Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you! I am not sure I want to sleep with you until it's not on a dare."

"Suit yourself, I'm not in a rush."

"Glad to hear it. If you were I'd want to know more about the terms of the dare."

"I quote, 'Don't just sit in front of your computer all day! Go outside! Enjoy the fresh air, the crisp autumn leaves. The hot college students still fresh from summer break.'"

She bursts out laughing.

"That's great."

"Though I myself am a hot college student fresh from high school."

"Saaaaaame. Froshie pride?"

She offers a high five.

High-five!

Beam!

"Not, mind you, that there's anything wrong with spending all day on your computer."

"Oh, course not."

"It would be tragic if our friendship were smothered in its cradle by you not understanding that."

Giggle.

"Just out of curiosity, who dared you?"

"Somebody on the internet, I don't know them super well or anything."

Giggle. "This has got to be the least bro-ish sex dare ever."

"I dunno, the world is a big place. There have probably been less bro-ish sex dares."

"I'm not convinced."

"Hmm... I could come up with a counterexample right now but that would be cheating."

"All's fair in love and war."

"Fine, then. I dare you to go on a date with me. A romantic date to a nice restaurant, where we will get to know each other better, eat delicious food, and eventually kiss."

"I accept."

Internally: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Excellent! My transparent ulterior motive is fulfilled!"

"You are the cutest ever."

"Thank you, I try." She gives a little bow.

"You succeed," she says earnestly, then puts her textbook aside, stands up, takes Naomi's hand, bows over it, and kisses it. 

"Wow, I feel one-upped in the best way."

Emily laughs and, on impulse, hugs her. 

Ee! Hugs!

"You're awesome."

"Right back atcha!"

Quick, tentative kiss?

Delighted grin.

Error: delight levels have exceeded operational parameters. 

Naomi is maybe a little smug about how excellent this whole interaction has been.

Convincing a pretty girl to go on a date with you in less than five minutes causes your SED to go up by 1!

Damn right.

"How are you real?"

"Maybe I'm magic."

"If you were I'd hope you'd share."

"I promise that after I've known you for longer than a day and you've turned out not to be a serial killer or anything I will do my best to give you a shot at any nice useful magic I find."

"--Oh--I didn't mean right away, sorry."

"You are pretty great at first glance, I'd probably give you, like, a travel thermos that never gets cold or something if I had one going spare."

"That would be pretty cool. I'd give you--why are all my first thoughts for cool-but-harmless magic gizmos sex toys."

"Ooh, tell me all about your hypothetical magic sex toys. And how you would give them to me."

Snrk. "I was just imagining, you know, normal giving, I had only imagined any sex toys as nouns not verbs!"

"I was deliberately leaving that ambigious between how-as-in-the-fact-that-it-happens and how-as-in-by-what-means!"

"Maybe you have a magic mouth that turns everything into innuendo whether you intend it to or not."

"Oh, if I have a magic mouth I bet it does something way more fun than that."

Giggling. Now there is giggling. Oh no. 

She laughs.

Eventually, after giggles have subsided enough for talking: "Well, my first idea was a magic vibrator that never needs batteries replaced especially not while one is in the middle of something, and the second was a magic sensation-transmitting strapon."

"I like your magic sex toys! Sign me up!"

She gives her a thumbs-up. "If I ever get a job designing magic sex toys I will arrange for you free samples."

"Perfect!"

Hug.

Hug.

"So do you actually know any date-appropriate restaurants in the area yet?"

"Nope! It'll be an adventure!"

"Ooh, adventure." She holds out her arm invitingly. 

"Adventure!" she agrees, taking it.

Emily grabs her stuff with her other hand so it doesn't get stolen and then they can wander off in search of a promising restaurant and/or semi-public sex location. 

Naomi is certainly on the lookout for both.

A restaurant shows up first. It's obvious that this is the right restaurant because the sign displaying the name--"Alla Puttanesca"--is written in violet-pink letters the exact same color as the Erogame text. 

"Nice sign," she says, nodding at it.

"The color's a little gaudy, but I like it," Emily nods. 

"Let's go be the most adorable first date they've ever seen!"

"I accept your challenge," she says, and pecks her on the cheek.

Naomi beams, adorably, and leads the way into the restaurant.

"Oh, by the way - I can pay my own share if you don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of you for your money, but also, if you don't care I will happily take advantage of you for your money."

"I don't mind being taken advantage of," she says cheerfully. 

"Oh good."

Eeeeeeee the time for adorable kisses is now. 

Why yes, it is that time! How did she know?

She knew because Naomi was being extremely adorable. 

Oh. Well. Fair.

Anyway they can like sit down or something probably. Once they have had their adorable kisses.

Emily will adorably put her hand over Naomi's and smile at her like in all those cheesy date scenes in movies. 

Eeeeeeee.

Emily opens her menu with her other hand. "Sure is a lot of stuff 'Alla Puttanesca,' appropriately enough," she comments after skimming the document. "I wonder if they know what it means."

"It seems implausible that they wouldn't!"

"True. It's probably reached the realms of irrelevant etymology at this point, though. ...Wow, they have a kosher section of the menu? I've never seen an Italian restaurant do that before."

"Huh, me neither."

"Convenient, though."

"Yeah..." Kind of implausibly convenient. Did this restaurant exist yesterday? It better have. Reality getting shuffled around for her convenience is an uncomfortable prospect.

A waiter comes over and asks for their orders. Emily selects a cheese tortellini thing while gazing adorably at Naomi. 

Naomi goes for spaghetti alla puttanesca because really how could you not.

The waiter smiles at them and takes their menus. 

A few minutes later he comes back with glasses of water and a slender vase with a single rose sticking out of it. 

Awwwwwwwwww.

"This place is great."

"I'm definitely a fan!"

"Sort of reminds me of a hotel my family stayed in once--my sister was incredibly sleep-deprived when we arrived and she commented to the guy who was showing us to our room that the tiny shampoo bottles were pretty and he ended up getting her a basket full of them."

"Oh that's the cutest thing."

"I know, right?"

"Yes!!"

"And the bottles were really pretty!"

"Well, naturally. If your sister's anything like you she probably has excellent taste in pretty things."

"I am definitely the more prettiness-oriented sister but her taste isn't bad."

"I'm trying to think of something smug to say about how I have noticed you being oriented toward prettiness, because you are on a date with me and I am very pretty, but my wit is failing me. Tragic."

"Oh, I don't think I'm oriented towards anything, that would imply I was oriented away from things, and I'm pansexual. But yes, you are very very pretty."

"I think you were stuck with implied directionality from the moment you used the word 'oriented'. It's kind of in the name. But you can definitely be oriented toward certain things without being oriented away from anything. You'd just need to be, like, omnidirectional. The girl with a thousand faces. Wow, this conversation just got unexpectedly eldritch."

"I wouldn't necessarily mind being eldritch. I suppose it would depend on what kind of eldritch."

"An intriguing assertion. What's your preferred flavour?"

"Something that's like humans, but...more. More senses, more limbs, more capacity to experience. But still able to comprehend and interact with humanity."

"That's a pretty nice flavour!"

She winks at her. "I think I've been established to have good taste."

"It's true, you have."

"Maybe you're secretly eldritch and that explains how pretty you are."

"I can take no credit for my beautiful face."

"None? You have no black magic makeup tips to share?"

"No black magic on the first date! It's a rule. That I just made up. Also I don't know any black magic."

"Oh darn."

"If I ever learn any, I promise you'll find out or at least benefit from it."

"Oooooh. Benefit directly, or...indirectly?"

"Could be either!"

"I admit, I'm having a hard time imagining you prettier than you are now."

"I choose to take that statement as a challenge."

"Oh, do, that'll be fun no matter how it turns out."

She beams.

"You're awesome. I like you a lot."

"I am! And I like you too!"

She squirms a little bit. "Good."

Naomi giggles.

"You're so pretty and awesome. I don't think I'd be allowed to hold it against you if you turned out to be an ax-murderer, at least as long as you didn't ax-murder anyone I personally care about."

"I promise I have never murdered anyone with an axe, nor do I intend to do so in the future!"

"Oh good. That's the least aesthetic kind of murder, short of explosives and other such indiscriminately-targeted things."

"Really? What's the most aesthetic kind of murder, then?"

"Hm...I'm hesitant to make a claim about most, because someone could theoretically top it--that's the thing about art, you can never call something the most beautiful, someone can always do better art later--but off the top of my head, seducing someone who killed someone you love in order to get close to them, actually falling in love with them, and stabbing them along with yourself to death in a single stroke with a sufficiently-long blade whilst clasped in an embrace."

"See, but if you can set up details like that then I can definitely come up with aesthetic ways to murder somebody using axes or explosions."

"If we're not doing details then probably poison."

"Huh. Yeah, I can see that."

"With knife-stabbing a close second!"

"Personally if I was gonna get murdered I think I'd want, like, some kind of elaborate serial killer nonsense."

"Oh?"

"Like, if I'm going to get murdered anyway, I'd rather they put some effort into it, you know?"

"Ah. Yes, that makes sense. Personally my tastes in that direction run to a climactic battle that I barely lose."

"If I'm gonna have a climactic battle, I better win it."

"I mean I'd sure prefer to, but the thing about battles is that you don't always."

"Sounds like quitter's talk to me."

"No, see, Murphy's Law."

"Mm..." She shakes her head. "Nah. Like, when I imagine getting kidnapped by a serial killer, I imagine this coming as a surprise. A climactic battle, on the other hand, has - leadup, it has a plot arc, it has time to prepare. And Murphy's Law doesn't leave me any worse off than the other guy; the universe hates everyone equally. So it comes down to who makes the best use of their time. And all I have to do is make sure that's me."

"I mean, that's true, but assuming we're in a narrative, the guy who says there's definitely no chance they'll lose is significantly more likely to lose than the guy who has contingency plans in case of defeat."

"I'm not saying that, though, I'm saying I intend to win."

"Okay but once you're acknowledging the possibility of defeat, you can evaluate the aesthetics of defeat, and I find them to be greater than the aesthetics of getting got by a dedicated serial killer."

"No, no, that's exactly what I'm saying - being defeated in a climactic battle is unacceptably unaesthetic."

"Oh, I see."

"Probably because of my arrogant and competitive nature."

"I like it better because...the serial killer scenario implies--a lack of agency? You die every time. A climactic battle lost implies the possibility of a climactic battle won."

"Mm... the serial killer scenario is something I couldn't reasonably have expected or prepared for; the climactic battle is a failure. Also, getting kidnapped by a serial killer is hot, losing climactic battles much less so."

"Well, there's the difference, then. I'd rather fail than never have had the opportunity to try and don't find being kidnapped hot."

"Fair enough, I guess!"

"Hooray! We are both sufficiently Adult Human to respect the fact that we have different preferences!"

"It's nice being an adult human!"

"It is! Some people never manage it. I feel sorry for them."

The waiter returns with Naomi's spaghetti and Emily's tortellini. 

"Have you ever noticed," Emily muses, poking at her noodles with her fork, "that tortellini looks a lot like a clitoris?"

"You know, I can't say that I have." She peers at the pasta. "I can see it, kinda. The comparison is a bit of a stretch."

"Mm." She spears one, pops it in her mouth, chews, and swallows. "It just seems obvious to me but maybe that says more about what kinds of depictions of clitorises I've seen than about tortellini."

Naomi giggles.

"So the question is," she says lightly, "between your food's name and mine's dubious resemblance to genitalia--which of our dishes is sexier?"

"Oh, definitely mine."

"Oh?"

"I have no justification, I'm just being pointlessly arrogant."

"Hm."

She spears another piece of tortellini, and lifts it to her mouth, but instead of popping it in immediately her tongue darts out to lick at it suggestively. 

Naomi giggles. "I will note that you had to stab it first, and most people find that to be a turn-off."

She eats the piece of tortellini and picks up another one with her spoon and begins licking the sauce off of that one. 

"The question," says Naomi, "was how sexy the food was, not whether it's possible to have sex with it."

"They seem like related questions!"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining."

"Good," she says with satisfaction. 

She grins.

"You are so pretty."

"Thanks! So're you!"

"We should maybe talk about...first date getting-to-know-you stuff. Where are you from, why'd you pick this college, what's your favorite color..."

"The tiny insignificant college in my tiny insignificant town is in some kind of student-swapping ring for tiny insignificant colleges who aren't gonna get out-of-towners any other way, and they swapped me to Norville U with a full-ride scholarship, so I went."

"Oh, wow, that's neat."

"How about you?"

"I wanted to try out the liberal California college scene but I had a scaremongering guidance counselor who talked me out of Stanford."

"Heh. What did your guidance counselor want you to be scared of?"

"Oh--no time to do anything you actually want to, no time to talk to your sister, late nights and early mornings, no one will be impressed by your waffling between the arts and the sciences--that kind of nonsense."

"Plausible."

"People go there without being totally miserable, I could plausibly swing it. Buuuuut I'm planning to stay here like a coward instead of trying to transfer, so."

"Hooray for cowardice!"