60_Ramagochi

"You can't just run away on your own without telling anyone! What if someone kidnapped you, or you got attacked by one of the Escaldian enforcement AIs. There have been rumors they have infiltrated Generica. Mr. Sheridan would love nothing more than to take the son of Generica's ruler as a hostage."

"B-but nothing happened..." Slippy quietly protested, looking down at his feet and avoiding the human's eyes.

"Nothing? You call "this" nothing?" Herman said, pointing at the destroyed post office and twitching half-dead mechanoids being treated by both robot and human engineers alike.

"Staple still hasn't recovered from the energy drain." Herman added, glancing at the back of one of the ambulances where the unconscious body of Staple lay, twitching randomly, to the distress of Topo who knelt beside her and solemnly held her hand, enduring the painful electric discharges silently with her.

"It is about time you learn to control yourself young man!" Herman declared, crossing both arms across his chest and looking down at the slip, one judgmental eyebrow raised for maximum effect.

"I-I am sorry Herman, I didn't mean to harm anyone, honest!"

"I-I just get so bored these days. Everyone is just SO slow! I feel like my mind is going to explode sometimes."

The repentant slip said, starting quite distressed and repentant to the point of crying at the beginning, then switching to contemplative, then to bored, and then to annoyed in the span of 5 seconds, no doubt a side effect of his speeding mind.

"Hmmm..." Herman thought, stroking his beard as he assessed his young charge. While thinking, the slip fidgeted in place, like a hyperactive kid that has eaten way too much candy.

As Herman thought, the slip couldn't restrain himself any longer and zipped away. He went on to play with the two dragon hatchlings, then after 2 seconds zipped again, this time to rummage through one of the postal packages that were spread everywhere, he uncovered a few sandwiches, ate them all, then zipped to the other side of the street and began building a miniature fort of oranges, he quickly got bored after the fourth fort and zipped away yet again, this time though, Herman reacted quickly and managed to catch the energized slip. Holding him with two fingers by the scruff of his neck, he lifted him up.

"I see what the problem is now..."

"You do?" The slip managed to say with puppy-dog eyes for a split second, then his attention got caught by a nearby butterfly, and his arms and legs frantically tried to reach for it. Herman held him firm, though, so the butterfly managed to flutter away from the overstimulated slip.

"Gnarlgrghh grrgrrr..." Slippy growled, akin to a feral DOS program, clutching Herman's finger and trying to chew it in the hopes of freeing himself. He achieved nothing of course, considering he had no teeth to speak of, plus Herman's skin was probably tougher than a tank's carapace by now.

"Alright, I think I got it." Herman finally said, the inspiration bug having finally bitten him. With that, Herman turned on his heels, away from the post office.

___

"Uu trinkets, so shinnyyyy. Oh A butterfly. Uu a melon. A rat? Oh, it's a mother rat, the babies are so cute." The slip rambled, his attention span degrading even further as he spun in the air, pointing at random things while Herman still firmly held him. The human was afraid that if he let go now, he would never be able to find the young AI ever again.

Both of them were currently back at the Fencetown bazaar. During his previous visit, Herman had passed by an antique shop. He had planned to visit the stall next month or so, after he acquired more funds. But his companion's deteriorating health demanded an earlier visit.

He browsed the various paraphernalia and smiled. There were so many old-world gadgets here: old-style TV game stations, little laser keychain pointers, snow globes, computer mice, and all sorts of other bizarre obsolete curiosities. Each one brought Herman back to his childhood.

Every four years the ferry arrived at his Yartsevo village. It always brought some random politician from the far-away cities, campaigning and bringing a little piece of civilization to his remote, off-the-grid village.

Besides the usual fake smiles and empty promises, the politician also brought various vendors with food and trinkets from the city.

When he was around Slippy's age, Herman's father had bought him his first pet. It was a virtual pet, but a pet nonetheless. Herman remembered the joy and excitement of the gift and smiled warmly at the fond memory.

"Ah, you have a keen eye, good sir." The mechanoid merchant said as he saw Herman pick up one of the miniaturized trinkets.

"It is one of my best Ramagotchis: three different animal types, a 6-bit audio system, plus batteries lasting for over five years. And it is in the latest fashion colors of the 21st century: pink!" The mechanoid merchant rambled on, presenting the tiny device as if it was a mythical ancient artifact. Though Herman had to admit that it was an absolute miracle the Ramagotchis still existed these days, so it might as well have been a mythical artifact.

"How much?" Herman asked, having no patience for nonsense. He knew very well how these things worked. The merchant had gotten a sense of who Herman was, his social skills, mannerisms, and probably what he ate for breakfast last week. He knew he would get swindled no matter what, so he just wanted to get this over with.

"Usually those go for 10 coins, but for you, my friend, that would be 5 coins," the merchant said.

Huh, that's not so bad. It is actually quite reasonable; maybe he was wrong about the merchant. He did look very sleazy and lacking in morals, but he supposed he shouldn't judge the book by its cover alone. There were decent people in the world after all, Herman thought.

As he leaned to pay, the merchant grimaced and shook his head and arms in the negative.

"Oh no no, you misunderstood me, my friend, the Ramagochi costs 5 mithril coins."

Herman just tilted his head and stared the greedy merchant down. His look was threatening and completely unamused. His stats page stubbornly stood at a single point of social skill, despite literally all of his other stats skyrocketing in the thousands by now. Yes, he might be lacking in social skills, but he wasn't THAT lacking.

1 mithril coin was enough to buy a small kingdom in the main Generica continent. And the bastard wanted 5!

Herman didn't say a word, just continued to silently stare at the mechanoid. The only sounds were Slippy's incomprehensible chirps and the bustle of the bazaar around them.

"Oh, alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, my friend, 4 mithril coins, but my 5 kids will stay hungry tonight." The mechanoid relented, shaking his head at the sacrifice he was making.

"50 copper," Herman said.

"I am sorry, sir, but I have already gone as low as I could possibly get; these things don't grow on trees, you know. I think 4 mithril is a completely reasonable price for what I am offering here. Ask whoever you want around here, but I guarantee you that you will not find any better price than mine." The shopkeeper said, his voice completely reasonable and honest.

"Hey mista, I'll sell you this blue Ramagochi for 10 coppers," a young mechanoid kid said, standing on his tiptoes and holding up an unopened device in its original, intact packaging, unlike the merchant's bruised secondhand ones.

"Deal," Herman said after taking a quick look at the pristine plastic packaging. He then handed over the copper and walked away with Slippy in one hand and the brand new Ramagochi in the other.

"Kapso, you damnable kid, I almost bought myself a kingdom!" The merchant barked in anger, taking a broom and chasing after the son of his greatest rival.

___

"All right, here you go." Herman said, gently placing the device in Slippy's fidgeting hands. By this time, Slippy had gone into a sort of comatose state, half conscious, half delirious, his eyes darting rapidly around, hands and feet twitching, screen flickering in and out with digital distortions. The whole thing signaling of the slip was living in sped-up time, on fast forward.

Seeing that Slippy was unresponsive, Herman had to hold the slips fingers around the device, gently tilting his head to look down at the gift.

Slowly, little by little the random twitches of the slip's body subsided, his arms firmly gripping the device as his fingers activated the Ramagochi's screen. He moved the controls slowly at first, but then as he gained focus and confidence, his fingers began to dance around the plastic keyboard, each key press chirping with a distinct retro-digital sound from the device.

Herman nodded to himself and watched carefully what happened next.

Jing! The device rang with the sound of an egg hatching. A new pet for Slippy to care for. Slippy quickly put the pet into a warm nest of towels, then brought it water and food, and then he quickly began to level up: a new pet house was built, a new garden for food, a new fence, tools, equipment, supplies.

Raiders attacked the homestead, the pet was injured. Slippy's hands rushed around the keyboard, the speed intensifying so much that even Herman couldn't track the individual movements anymore. He just saw clipped snapshots of the Ramagochi's screen.

The pet sleeping in the cabin, injured but alive. Slippy standing triumphantly at a pile of dead raiders. The pet all grown up now, he and Slippy flying in the air together, yeeping and wooing as the wind rushed around them.

Jing jing jing jing! Elderly Slippy sitting on the veranda of his log cabin, rocking himself on his chair, as the pet and its mate chased after their hatchlings in the peaceful hill pastures. Slippy smiling at the scene, then clasping his chest, falling down, the pets looking up at him with concern as the screen went dark...

Tew tew tew... the console rang a sad jingle.

Game over.

Cause of death: Heart attack.

Score: 75 years.

Play again? Y/N.

"Woooow... That was awesome!"

Slippy exclaimed, his voice sounding normal, unlike his previous fast-forward pace.

"I... I feel much better now, my mind is clear again." Slippy said, slowly pressing the 'No' button and shutting down the Ramagochi.

"Thank you Herman. I am not sure what had gotten into me before. I felt like my mind was going to explode."

"I'm glad you're back, buddy," Herman said, pulling the fake, illusionary Slippy from his shirt pocket. He detached the medical-inspection cables, then tossed the fake aside, then retrieved the real Slippy and slipped him safely into his pocket.

"Nah, I am not a baby anymore, I think I will walk from now on, and besides..."

"It is about time you learn to control yourself, old man!" Slippy declared, crossing both arms at his chest and looking up at the overpowered human, one judgmental eyebrow raised for maximum effect.

...

"Is this really necessary?"

Squash!

"Dammit, not again!" Herman protested after yet another melon exploded.

"Yes, it is necessary! You helped me overcome my handicap, so now I am going to help you with yours." Slippy said, wearing farmer attire and materializing another melon from his soul space.

"Alright, now carefully put it in the harness at your chest. Slow and steady, as we practiced."

"Grr..." Herman growled but complied with the instructions of the slip.

He carefully, sloooowly pressed two palms around the melon, wincing and anticipating yet another explosion. Surprisingly, though, the melon stayed intact. He even managed to lift it a few centimeters off the ground.

"Slippy, Slippy, I am doing it, I am doing it!" the man exclaimed.

Squash!

A blast of red juice and melon innards exploded in Herman's face, putting a stop to his celebration.

"Control, you must learn control!" Slippy urged, akin to an old sensei imparting wisdom to his young disciple.

Fwoosh.

Another melon, specially grown in Slippy's soul space, materialized in front of the human.

"AGAIN!" Slippy barked, voice full of authority.