Was there anything else he needed to be saying? Probably not. Even if something had come to mind, it was too late for that now, Alessio had just quit the call. Most likely for the best, who knew if he hadn't made it worse with more talk.
Maxim leaned back in his desk chair, firmly pressing his back against the backrest as if he was trying to push through it. He licked his lips, staring at the screensaver of his desktop for what seemed like minutes to him, at least in his head. It had probably only been seconds, but with his mind being unusually empty for once, almost a blank, a mere void, he felt like he had lost track of space and time for a short duration. Only then did he notice that he was still wearing his headphones, promptly brushing them off his head with a swipe of the hand.
It started to feel like his neck was cramping, courtesy of not moving his head around for probably far too long. So he looked to the right, at his most sacred resting place. His bed was in a total disarray, sheet and blanket rumpled and clearly looking like they were in need of changing and probably contributing to the staleness of the air in the room as well. Ugh, how he hated having to change it by himself, sorely missed were the times where his dad would take that burden off his shoulders. Begging for him to that job today, only today, that was still an option. But no, even he wasn't that lazy, this was a matter of pride. His dad had enough to deal with as it was.
But even so, with his mood having received a serious blow, he felt like the effects of said blow were already beginning to wear off. He couldn't quite describe it, but the sudden angst that had gotten hold of him seemed to be supplanted by a different sentiment entirely. He was still slightly annoyed, yes, but that wasn't because of that whole business with Alessio. To be honest, he did feel almost at peace, an idle, hollow form of peace, but peace nonetheless. So much at peace that he was willing to ignore the fact that his bed clearly needed a cleaning of some sort and simply threw himself on the musty sheets, no regrets.
Tired, that was how he felt now. Not anxious, not resentful towards himself, just tired. It wasn't hard to see why that was, both him being tired and having shaken off that overwhelming negativity rather quickly. It was because he was by himself now. No longer having to worry how to act, what to say, he was alone with only his own thoughts and a few lonely socks lying around to keep him company. And quite honestly, he preferred it that way. He wasn't needed elsewhere, not by Al or anyone else, so he was content just being here. At least for that moment.
Nodding off was looking awfully tempting now.
"Match of chess? Well, sure, don't see why not. I don't have a better idea anyway, so let's go with that."
The game hadn't even started yet and he was already making a mistake. The mistake being him conceding that easily. Of all the possible games, chess. Sure, they played that every once in a while, but it was the same each time, with him not being able to enjoy himself, at all. Alessio seemed to really be into it though. Probably wouldn't have proposed to play it otherwise, time after time.
Well, it was too late now. He had agreed, now he had to live with that. Hopefully, those new chips his dad had bought would be something for him to smile about. Didn't sound like they were going to be, but once could never know. He'd save them for a later time though. Munching away right at the beginning didn't feel right, he had only just eaten a short while ago. About...an hour ago, yes, since it was 3:30 now, at least according to his taskbar's time display.
"Go ahead, open up a new game, I'll join."
Hearts of Irony
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Rorick Skyve†
- Posts: 246
- Joined: Thu Nov 15, 2018 5:26 pm
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Alessio gave Maxim the link in their Skype chat dialogue. He was glad that Maxim played with him. Alvaro was the only regular opponent for Al at the chess game. His father did not like the game, his mother did not understand it. And, well his cats couldn't play chess. So he wondered how Maxim would perform against him. Probably good. Maxim was a smart guy, smarter than Al. And Al was never really good at chess. Especially against Alvaro.
Al looked forward to see what his brain could do after that hard school day. Perhaps, he should have suggested a game that required less thinking.
Hm, Al had to start the game. White. Hm, what should he move? Which pawn? When playing in the café he sometimes tried more risky things, to confuse. But now, he should play properly and move the pawn in front of his king.
Al looked forward to see what his brain could do after that hard school day. Perhaps, he should have suggested a game that required less thinking.
Hm, Al had to start the game. White. Hm, what should he move? Which pawn? When playing in the café he sometimes tried more risky things, to confuse. But now, he should play properly and move the pawn in front of his king.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Rorick Skyve†
- Posts: 246
- Joined: Thu Nov 15, 2018 5:26 pm
There they were, neatly lined up, a phalanx of black and white. He could almost envision them as humans and orcs, Gandalf and Saruman both leading the battle from behind their lines. Though that did probably make him the bad guy in this scenario, given he had the black pieces. Then again, Saruman was called Saruman the White and besides, that entire trope with white representing 'Good' and black 'Evil' was not to his taste anyway. Too trite, simply put. White was the color of death in Chinese culture after all. Though that too did not bode well for him.
This seemed like a good strategy though, simply pretending those dull virtual figures out there on those checkered Plains of Justice were some kind of fantasy armies, trolls and ogres and elves and whatnot. Certainly made it more interesting to him.
It was his turn. Naturally, the only logical thing for him to do was to move one of his pawns - his goblins. Preferably the one directly opposed to the one Al had just moved forward. Would make for a nice little duel, though not really, since all the two pieces would be doing was stare at each other indefinitely until someone else than their opposite freed them of their burden. Alessio would probably move one of his own goblins in return and -
No, no no, this wasn't working, not at all. Renaming the pieces like that was silly, that's what it was, nothing but silly. Even if J. R. R. Tolkien himself had narrated the proceedings of their match, it couldn't have made up for how unbearably repetitive this game was. It might have been sort of fun the first few times he had ever played it, but just like an elderly PC game that had aged badly, it had lost its charm, wasn't up to his standards anymore.
Again, no use in whining. All he could do was grit his teeth and get to it, get through it. The least he could hope from all this was walking away with the satisfaction of a hard-fought victory. He really hoped so. But Al wasn't that much of an opponent anyway. It wasn't going to be much of a problem, most certainly not.
"Well, get to it. It's been your turn for quite some time now."
((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued in Empire of Dirt))
This seemed like a good strategy though, simply pretending those dull virtual figures out there on those checkered Plains of Justice were some kind of fantasy armies, trolls and ogres and elves and whatnot. Certainly made it more interesting to him.
It was his turn. Naturally, the only logical thing for him to do was to move one of his pawns - his goblins. Preferably the one directly opposed to the one Al had just moved forward. Would make for a nice little duel, though not really, since all the two pieces would be doing was stare at each other indefinitely until someone else than their opposite freed them of their burden. Alessio would probably move one of his own goblins in return and -
No, no no, this wasn't working, not at all. Renaming the pieces like that was silly, that's what it was, nothing but silly. Even if J. R. R. Tolkien himself had narrated the proceedings of their match, it couldn't have made up for how unbearably repetitive this game was. It might have been sort of fun the first few times he had ever played it, but just like an elderly PC game that had aged badly, it had lost its charm, wasn't up to his standards anymore.
Again, no use in whining. All he could do was grit his teeth and get to it, get through it. The least he could hope from all this was walking away with the satisfaction of a hard-fought victory. He really hoped so. But Al wasn't that much of an opponent anyway. It wasn't going to be much of a problem, most certainly not.
"Well, get to it. It's been your turn for quite some time now."
((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued in Empire of Dirt))
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So many possibilities. Openings were the worst. The midgame was much more simple to follow since it had less options. But now? Al, who also had pressure due to Maxim awaiting a response, quickly made a next move.
And while Alessio and Maxim played chess, Julius arrived at home from his hunt. After having had eating some tasty meal, he returned to his territory: Al's room. He wanted more food. He jumped on Alessio's bed and meowed. Al quickly turned around to pet him, just to turn around again to continue playing.
Enough is enough. Julius wanted fooooood. He put all the force into his legs to jump on the desk of Alessio to alarm him that he needed fooood. That a water bottle fell to the ground was no big sacrifice. Fooood. Julius then began to cuddle with Al, but he rudely grabbed Julius to put him on the bed, removing the cat from the desk.
"Aaaahrgh, Julius! Not now, not now."
That's why Al was muted. But Julius did not care. He cared for food. But then he did not care about food, and cared about sleep instead. Aww, the blanket is so cuddly and it was so beautifully dark. Maybe he wasn't that hungry, maybe he needed sleep after the failure of a hunt he did. Julius had not caught a bird, Julius had not caught a mouse. So, Julius took a nap under the blanket.
After Al took his cat to the bed, he found a brilliant move. Maybe it was a good move to move the bishop there.
((Alessio Rigano continued in Everybody Wants To Be A Cat))
And while Alessio and Maxim played chess, Julius arrived at home from his hunt. After having had eating some tasty meal, he returned to his territory: Al's room. He wanted more food. He jumped on Alessio's bed and meowed. Al quickly turned around to pet him, just to turn around again to continue playing.
Enough is enough. Julius wanted fooooood. He put all the force into his legs to jump on the desk of Alessio to alarm him that he needed fooood. That a water bottle fell to the ground was no big sacrifice. Fooood. Julius then began to cuddle with Al, but he rudely grabbed Julius to put him on the bed, removing the cat from the desk.
"Aaaahrgh, Julius! Not now, not now."
That's why Al was muted. But Julius did not care. He cared for food. But then he did not care about food, and cared about sleep instead. Aww, the blanket is so cuddly and it was so beautifully dark. Maybe he wasn't that hungry, maybe he needed sleep after the failure of a hunt he did. Julius had not caught a bird, Julius had not caught a mouse. So, Julius took a nap under the blanket.
After Al took his cat to the bed, he found a brilliant move. Maybe it was a good move to move the bishop there.
((Alessio Rigano continued in Everybody Wants To Be A Cat))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.