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You go into the game wearing your favorite skirt because that's what you feel like wearing the day you enter the gate with the intention of beating the guardian of zone 1. That day wasn't a special occasion or anything. You just sat down at your computer feeling good and wanting to let off a day's worth of stress with some boss battling and now here you are.
Dedan's laughter rings throughout the room as the meat fountains splash vilely. There's an attack, you brace yourself even though you have not, have never been targeted, and the Batter crashes to the ground at your feet, blood spurting from his nose with the impact. Alpha flits about, agitated by the turn of events. You panic.
"Batter!!" you scream. You put yourself between Dedan and your puppet and crouch down to him, rolling him onto his side so that he won't choke. He sputters instead, breathing irregular.
"P-player-" he coughs out, "I've- failed you." His eyes are barely open. His vision is unfocused. There's a bruise blossoming below his left eye. You shush him.
"You've done admirably." You feel the terror ebbing away as you run your hand soothingly down the nape of his neck and begin to stand up. "Rest." He's probably unconscious, actually. You have other things to think about. Thank god he's alive. You call up the in-battle inventory menu in your head.
Dammit. It's fitting that the tickets are named for luck, because your lack of them is certainly unlucky. You're all out of meats and other restorative items too. Fine.
It takes you milliseconds to abandon that line of tactics and settle on another. Fine.
It's time to get your hands dirty.
The terror from Dedan's strike connecting with your Batter's skull is gone. It's replaced by a ice-cold fury. You bend down to gently pry the Batter's fingers from the handle of his bat. Such a determined hero, even in defeat. You pat his limp hand as you accustom your palm to the weight and balance of the borrowed bat.
Vengeance.
Dedan sees you contemplating the heft of the weapon and lets out a condescending chortle of disbelief. "What're you going to do, wench? You think I'm the kind of gentleman to not hit a girl?"
You call Alpha to your side wordlessly. The Add-on's temporary realignment fills you with a jolt of power that feels like rage, but you're calm.
"I've got news for you," Dedan sneers, "I don't discriminate between pieces of shit." He flicks his clawed fingers in the direction of your fallen Batter, looking down at his crumpled body. "If your little plaything couldn't stand up to me, what makes you think-"
You charge him, bat parallel to the ground in both hands above your right shoulder, and he can't finish his derisive remark because you smash his rib cage in. His giant frame flies backward and collides into a wall, the breath knocked out of him. There's a satisfying crunch and you grit your teeth and hope you punctured a lung or two. Or three, you dunno how his alien anatomy works. "Eyes on me, fucker. I'm your opponent now."
Dedan hauls himself to his feet wrathfully, but his expression betrays a shock that fills you with a sick, satisfying warmth from head to toe. Good. You hurthim.
He roars, and rushes you with that deceiving speed you hadn't expected when you'd first entered into battle with the Batter as your proxy. In retrospect, that was one of the driving factors behind your defeat. Along with the computer being a cheating bastard, you think. One of these days, you think absentmindedly, you plan to make a ratio of boss-to-player critical hits.
You're prepared for it now. You may not be as strong as the Batter but you weave past Dedan's attempts to rip and grasp at your limbs with ease. You duck beneath one clumsy swipe and swing the bat with precision you couldn't accomplish with the Batter as a middleman. You shatter the guardian's kneecap with one well-placed blow, forcing him to kneel in pain, and jump back, distancing yourself from his wail of torment and anger.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH! I'LL FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR COLD DEAD CORPSE-!!" he screeches. You disregard him and vault into a running start, launching yourself onto and off of Alpha's edge as an improvised flat surface to gain height, and raise the bat over your head, your skirt and hair fluttering behind you.
"'Dead corpse' is redundant," you yell at him in mid-air, and bring the bat down onto his chest and his already broken ribs with all your strength.
Your strike is so ridiculously powerful that you feel the bat's wood cut through bone and organs and muscle and actually resonate off the floor underneath your adversary's wrecked body. There's a raspy death rattle from the giant abomination and then silence. The announcement of experience points and credits being granted appears at the upper edge of your vision. You ignore it.
"Come on," you mutter to Alpha. The Add-on circles you, giving you vigor as you run to your Batter and slip one arm between his arms and one between his legs and lift him over your head onto your shoulders. You adjust him, straightening yourself for balance, and turn one last time to see Dedan's form disappear. You start making your way out of the room.
"No one touches my Batter and lives," you announce to the game. You clench the bat still in your right hand and it feels like an oath.
Alpha hums steadfastly beside you.
"Ha ha ha."
"There's nothing to laugh at here, Zacharie." The Player leaned down to settle the Batter's lax body on the ground, leaning against her.
"Au contraire, dear player. I see you- or, rather, the puppet- are in dire need of my wares? I must say, it isn't every player of our humble RPG who ends up fighting in lieu of..."
Zacharie paused. The Player did as well, halfway through counting through a wad of credits. "What?"
"Ha ha ha. That's a nice skirt." Zacharie said.
"Thanks," the Player replied. "It's my favorite."