The Bet (Closed for Trucken)

[NDIaC]

The thread is closed. Please feel free to read along and enjoy. If you like the characters and concepts feel free to PM either one of us, we on nom comments and praise.

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It was late in the afternoon when Ami Zed finally awoke. She had slept most of the day away, which was typical for her, even if she was an adult, at least that's what the courts said. 'Adulting', as she put it, wasn't really one of her strong suits, but then again with an ass like that it really didn't have to be. With a weary sigh she rolled over onto her stomach and fumbled for her phone, the bright glare of the screen causing her to squint those typically bright and vivid green eyes. She had numerous texts and voice messages, along with several other blinking icons from various other social media devices. With a over-dramatic sigh she shifted, flopping back onto her back, the blanket falling away as her pert breasts jostled freely. She wore absolutely nothing but a scowl at the moment, that svelte, alabaster white frame covered in nothing but ink and her ruffled covers. They had slid away from her upper frame, revealing those pert, impossibly perky breasts capped with pink, already hardened nipples. Ami liked the room cold when she slept, and now as she stirred awake that cold temperature was getting to her.

One hand held the cellphone in front of her, her thumb sliding and swiping through various screens. The other ran through her wild short mane, a dark chocolate hue soft. It had been awhile since Ami had decided upon dying it, though she had already purchased a few colors earlier in the week. She just couldn't make up her mind...first world problems, right? Ultimately, she just left it up to someone else, asking her friends what they thought. She happened to go with the first one she saw, which also happened to be one of the colors that she had bought. Always a winning combination. Slowly Ami collected herself and went through her text messages, finally coming to one that caught her attention. The name read 'Rando #1', along with a picture of Dickbutt for the profile picture. It was a bit of an in-joke, the sender was far from random, at least at this point. But that was what she called all of her lovers (ranking them in order by performance of course), at least the ones that didn't receive the honor of being called her 'significant other'. The honor part of that usually involved taking care of the check at dinner or forking over the green for whatever else happened to catch her eye.

Ami opened the text and lazily read the response as she causally strolled down the hallway, naked as a jay bird, her shapely hips swaying and that oh so lovely backside tensing and jiggling with each step. She let out a subdued, husky little giggle as her eyes flicked over the words, which constituted little more than praise of her sexual skill and groveling for more of her attention. That alone brought out that trademark smirk of hers, a little (and completely unnecessary) boost to her ego accompanying it. She responded with a flippant remark, avoiding any confirmations of her attentions; that always seemed to make them want it even more.


Ami typed as she walked, strolling through the quiet, dark apartment, heading towards the the bathroom and flicking the light on. She set her phone down and snatched up the small box sitting on the cluttered counter. One the front was a picture of a semi-attractive woman with neon pink hair, the title read: 'Radioactive Pank'. Next to it was another box of 'Manic Magenta', with the same exact picture of the same woman just with photoshopped hair color. Instead of just picking one, Ami decided to get creative. Ami examined herself in the mirror critically for a few moments. She slid her hands up through her short mane of hair, currently a dark nutty brown, its natural color with just a hint of faded green at the tips. It was wild yet held a certain alternative style to it, short on the sides and back before slowly growing longer near her brow. She let the neon locks fall out about her temples and over the bridge of her nose as she continued to look over herself. She idly cupped her breasts, pushing them up and together before letting them go, watching them jostle enticingly back into place. She was mildly amused by her own tantalizing flesh, taking in what she could see of that lovely figure before the rest disappeared behind the counter top. Ami looked back up into her own eyes, gave a little huff and got to work dying her hair.


The pipes shuddered and shrieked as Ami cut off the torrential rush of steaming hot water to the shower for the second time. It ended with a sputter, a trickle still dripping from the faucet as she threw back the curtain and stepped out onto the floor-mat. The large bathroom mirror was steamed over from the heat of the water, though Ami could still make out a blurry humanoid figure topped with neon pink and darker magenta. That frame had undeniable feminine dips and curves, a stark pale compared to the dull background of the bathroom wallpaper.

Unsurprisingly, Ami had a stunning little figure. Proud shoulders gave way to an ample, yet modest bosom, a taut and toned inner core and shapely hips made more than a few give her a second glance. She had a tight and toned rear one could bounce a quarter off of as well. Her skin was a creamy alabaster, which glistened with water droplets and hinted at a pinkish hue from where the hot water pelted her. She had a ravishing face with just a hint of angelic beauty and a sinner's smile. Those lips were full, plush, and always seemed to wear some kind of smirk or smile, as if she knew something that no one else did. She reached out and brushed her palm over the fogged mirror, clearing a swatch and peered at herself intently. Her eyes were bright green, with a mischievous light that came from within. They were radiant today, the eagerness and excitement undeniably etched upon her face.

It was going to be a good day.

Ami dried herself off hurriedly with a large fluffy brown towel. She gave her neon pink hair a few shakes, making sure she had given it a proper rinse after dying. Only then did she start her preparations for the day, some powder and foundation, eyeliner and mascara to bring out the verdant hue of her eyes. It was simple and elegant, the same attention was given to her short mane, which swept from her crown and over her left eye. The dye did its job, the bright pink seemed to glow in the bathroom lights, especially at her bangs, the rest fading into a dark magenta near the base of her skull. It wasn't her first rodeo dying her hair, Ami had gotten pretty decent at it over the years, especially in the area of not making a total mess of the bathroom counter.

Only after she was done with all of that did she emerge from the bathroom in her full naked glory, her perky bosom jostling with each heavy step she took. Like anyone else in the confines of their own abode she didn't hesitate to walk about in nothing but her birthday suit and a smirk. By the time she had finished dying her hair and washing up it was getting into the early evening hours. She managed to get dressed by then, choosing a tight fitting black T that had a great plunging neckline to display her awesome cleavage. Underneath she strapped on her pushup bra, making those warlocks appear even bigger and grander then they already did (a near impossible feat if not for science!). A pair of tight fitting gray workout shorts clung greedily to the swell of her hips, leaving those long legs proudly on display. Her bare feet shuffled over the dull brown carpet as Ami made her way to spare bedroom she had turned into her office. There she had her entire setup for playing games and streaming, all meticulously set in place. For such a slouch in life it was surprising to find this part of her life so well organized. A curious quirk, Ami was mostly oblivious to the fact as well. With steaming cup of coffee (mostly sugar) in hand she set down to do some actual work, or as close to work as Ami Zed did. She played a few games, churning out a few Let’s Play episodes for her Youtube channel before she took a short break for food and was back in front of the webcam full of pizza and even more caffeine.

It was just about time for her to start streaming, Ami took a glance at the time before she settled in and started it up. Recently she had been live streaming her escapades in the latest expansion of one of her all time favorite MMORPG’s ever, Fields of War VII. The franchise has been around for decades, she recalled growing up playing one variation of Fields of War or the other. This was their first attempt at an online multiplayer and the hype had been just absolutely ridiculous. Fortunately, the game was pretty good, with a excellent blend of PVE and PVP content to keep almost everyone satisfied. Ami was, of course, attracted to the PVP aspects of the game, the mixture of FPS and traditional RPG elements blended well together and created a truly unique feel. She had a handful of characters she was leveling, though for her live streams she always liked to pull out her all time favorite, Reivers. She had fondly given her toon the name Reivers, after the raiders from the late 13th century that pillaged along the Anglo-Scottish border well into the 17th century. Few people knew that of course, Ami wasn’t just a pretty face after all.

That character was a sight to behold, just like Ami herself. She had built her from the ground up to be ridiculous, both in looks and in style. Reivers herself was statuesque, solidly built with an athletic definition and a pair of monstrous sized breasts (the slider was turned up to 11). It was downright retarded, but that was Ami’s intend. Her built was just as ridiculous as her bust size, Ami had gone all out with this build, creating what she thought was the ultimate stealth unit. She was built for burst damage, to sneak in, deal tremendous amounts of damage and disappear back into the shadows before her target even knew what happened. All that dedication to damage and stealth came at a price though, Reivers was the typical glass cannon, her stamina stat untouched. A few hits and she would be down for the count, but getting those hits was the true challenge. Few could rise to such a challenge, much to her delight, and of course her fanbase. Each time she live streamed Fields of War she made the same declaration, calling out to anyone watching to find her and take Reivers down. So far none had been able to, though there were a few close calls, but it all made for a damn entertaining few hours. That was the entire point, Ami reeled them in with her own endowments, her smart mouth and ultimately her skill. She wasn’t just a spectacular pair of tits (even if that was entirely true), she could backup her shit talk with supreme expertise.

The evening went on and Ami kept it lively and entertaining, the views and donations kept pouring in as did the trolls and the challengers. Ami kept it all going, intermingling her own trolling efforts from time to time as well as some really nice cleavage shots. After a few intense firefights that ended with Reivers sniping her adversary from maximum range, pulling off an impressive shot through a window, Ami called it a night. She signed off in her typical flirty fashion, offering a wink of those lovely bright eyes and a smirk that could make even the strongest and stoic of men (and women) melt. It had been an exhausting four hours of work, Ami was downright fainting as she lounged back in her computer chair and idly scanned the interwebs.

Just then, as she was scrolling through some shit posts, her phone rumbled to life on the counter top. Ami had forgotten all about it, along with the multitude of people that had been vying for her attention. This particular message was lucky enough to catch her attention, Ami brought the phone up in front of her face and swiped the screen awake, her green gaze drifting lazily over the text.

 

[Trucken]

The flashes on the screen continuously illuminated the face of the man in front of it. It was a young face, one that was surpisingly smooth considered how he used to shotgun energy drinks during his gaming sessions. Thick black frames surrounded his blue eyes that nearly looked purple in certain lights (which, honestly, was most lights), and his thick black hair covered most of his forehead and sides of his face. On top of that mop was a headset, large purple headphones covering his ears with a white mic with a purple stripe extending from one of them, following his jaw and stopping right in front of his mouth that grimaced and cursed constantly. His eyes were focused on the character running around inside the monitor, his fingers moving around the keyboard as he controlled its actions, the other hand swiftly pushing the mouse around on top of the old tattered mousepad.

“Run you fucker,” he hollered at the screen, his words directed at the digital character he was controlling. “The fuckin’ girl scout is right behind ya, and she’s gonna force you to buy fourteen boxes of Rah-Rah Raisins! We can’t afford that right now! It’s a recession!” A slight grin spread across his face from his own comment, and on the smaller monitor next to the one he was playing on a small box flashed, showing that someone had commented. The young man glanced over at it and saw two new messages, the first one from xXpsych0sl4y3rXx which read ‘lol, fucking girlscouts r dangerus rofllmao’. The second message was from Batterymonster that commented ‘I like thin mints’.

“Well, ain’t no Thin Mints to be found here,” he exclaimed as he continued to steer his character through the old building. “Just a girl scout on steroids that’s gonna shove boxes of pure hate-cookies up my ass!”

There weren’t any girl scouts in the game, nor were there cookies. The game was called Don’t Slay Out Late, a game that had both elements of co-op and vs play. A few people played as the Victims, the ones that tried to survive and escape. Then there were a few that played as the Killers, basically your standard slasher-movie villains that tried to hunt down their prey and skin them alive, among other things. There were several ways to kill the Victims and the game was gory, but it only added to the fun. Playing as one of the Victims was difficult as you had to complete several tasks while still staying hidden. Outrunning the Killers was nearly impossible after all, but there were places to hide. Gavin O’Toole was desperately looking for one of them, but as he steered his character down the hallways of the building with one of the Killers right behind him he knew that this was probably it for him.

“Ooooh, go away you fucker! Sell your cookies elsewhere, I don’t want -*” An axe suddenly swung down on his characters shoulder, chopping it’s arm off and spraying the screen with blood. It cried out in pain as the Killer grabbed it’s head and brought the axe down again, hitting the Victim across the ear and chopping off half of it’s head. The virtual body went limp and fell to the floor, the words ‘You Slayed Out Too Late’ showing up on the screen.

“OOOOOH!” Gavin let out a scream that sounded both impressed and disgusted as he leaned back in his chair as if to distance himself from the Killer. “It’s a beautiful kill! A Neat kill! And nooo pain for the Victim!” He knew right away that very few people would get that reference, but it still worked, earning a ‘ROFL’ from xXpsychosl4y3rXx in the comment window. Looking over to the side of the screen he realized he was nearing the three-hour time limit he had set, meaning it was time to end the stream.

“Well guys ‘n’ gals, that is it for me tonight, the game was Don’t Slay Out Late. A lot of fun, I recommend it, especially if you’re a fan of movies like Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Hills Have Eyes. Luckily though, this game doesn’t have rape in it. Thank God for that.” Gavin reached to his side, picking up a gavel that lay on the desk.

“Thank you all so much for watching, commenting, and donating, it means the world to me. I hope ya had lots o’ fun watching, don’t forget to check out my YouTube channel The Gavel’s Ruling where I put up Let’s Plays and highlights from my streams.” Gavin made a short pause and pointed at the camera with the gavel, preparing for his catchphrase with a smirk on his face.

“This is the Gavel, and I sentence you…” Another short pause as he brought the gavel down, giving his desk a firm knock. “... To watch my videos. Bye everyone!” Gavin waved excitedly at the camera with the gavel as he clicked a button on the screen that ended the stream. Once it was dead Gavin slumped back in his chair, the smile vanishing and his body language vastly different from the one he had when the camera was rolling.

“Shit…” he muttered as he tossed the gavel up on the desk, a few loud clacks heard before it settled. Looking over at the secondary screen he saw all the numbers from his stream. Total number of viewers, most viewers at the same time, and money made from donations. And those numbers were why he suddenly looked so defeated.

“47 viewers, 17 at most, and 11 bucks…” His head turned forward again, staring through the desk in front of him. The numbers were down from his last stream. Not horribly so, but it definitely wasn’t a good sign. Some would blame the game, that it wasn’t popular enough, but Gavin knew that wasn’t the problem. His philosophy was that if the streamer was funny enough the viewers would come, no matter the game. Of course it was important to get your name out there as well, and Gavin had done what he could to do just that.

“Maybe my material just sucks…” Sighing deeply he reached for a can of energy drink, easily opening it and chugging it down, the mixture of caffeine and sugar disappearing down his throat. Belching loudly he tossed the can into the corner where there already was a pile of them, metallic rustling heard as it knocked the other empty containers around. Gavin sat there in silence for a while, contemplating what he should do. Did he need to find a new strategy to gain viewers? Come up with better material? Or was it maybe time to just give up and get a real job? He’d been trying to be a professional gamer for four years now, doing things like streams, Let’s Plays, and taking part in tournaments. He made some money out of it, sure, but he often found himself having to take on random jobs just to make ends meet. By now he had been hoping to at least be able to make a living out of it, but lately it felt like he had been standing still, treading water just to stay afloat.

“Hmmm, what to do, what to do…” Grumbling for himself he took a deep breath through his nose which immediately made him frown. A foul stench hit him and he quickly realized it came from him and was probably the eight cans of Monster that was now seeping out through his pores.

“Ugh,” he grunted as he stood up. “I need a shower.” Gavin quickly discarded his clothes, making the pile of dirty laundry next to his desk even bigger before walking over to the bathroom, naked as the day he was born. Despite not having the healthiest lifestyle his pale body was still slim and toned thanks to the walks and thirty minutes of yoga he did every day. He had never enjoyed lifting weights and had no desire to become big and muscular anyway, so yoga was perfect since it kept him limber and toned. And while he did have that thick mop on top of his head the rest of him wasn’t that hairy. Some hair on his chest and arms, but they were thin and light in color, barely making them visible. His armpits and crotch were trimmed as Gavin just didn’t like the feeling of letting those areas grow wildly. Plus he knew it wasn’t particularly attractive if he ever got it on with a woman. Not that he was drowning in women or even having sex regularly, but every now and then he was able to hook up with someone down at the pub.

While Gavin took somewhat care of himself and at least made an effort to make himself somewhat presentable his apartment was a completely different story. A crappy studio apartment in a rough neighborhood was all he could afford and considering how he treated it he fit in perfectly. The vaccum cleaner made rare appearances and he had never mopped the floors in the three years that he had lived there. Probably because he would have to get rid of all the shit on the floor first, like his piles of dirty and clean clothes, soda cans, and pizza boxes. Honestly the only part of his apartment that looked somewhat neat was his desk where he recorded himself playing and the area behind him that the camera showed, but that was only a wall really.

After finishing the shower Gavin walked over the dirty wooden floors, his skin sticking to it. His limp manhood dangled between his legs as he started to rummage through the pile of clean clothes, looking for something to wear. Not particularly concerned with what, he ended up with a pair of tight grey jeans, a blue T-shirt with the print of a cartoon duck shot in the head with the words ‘King of the jungle my ass!’ written beneath it, and a red hoodie with a white zipper in front.

Gavin slumped down in his chair again, swiveling it back and forth as he stared up at the grey concrete roof, wondering what he should do. He kinda wanted to hang out with someone, but he knew his friends were busy. Edgar and Kirk were off to see a concert, Trevor was in Australia with his girlfriend, and Larry… well, he had just said he was going to be busy and didn’t want to be disturbed which probably meant he was stoned out of his mind. Not that it mattered to Gavin, Larry was a handful to deal with when he was high, constantly forgetting things and rarely being able to finish a sentence. But still, it meant that Gavin was a lonely friend tonight. With nothing better to do he reached for his phone, checking his Twitter feed. It was mostly the usual stuff, friends arguing about politics, pornstars trying to sell sextoys, and various news about games. He scrolled through the feed lazily, about to put the phone down when he saw a post that caught his eye.

“Ami’s streaming?” Saying the words to no one but himself he sat up in his chair, opening his browser and entering the adress, clicking his way forward until he saw Ami’s face in the corner of the screen and Fields of War VII taking up the rest of it. He leaned back as he studied the monitor, nibbling at his finger. Sitting there in silence for a while he eventually leaned back with his hands behind his head, letting out a deep sigh.

“Why the fuck am I torturing myself like this again?” While it may have sounded like Gavin was lamenting a long-lost love that wasn’t the case. Him and Ami had never been an item. She was attractive, sure, but he didn’t have any romantic feelings for her and he doubted she had any for him. Why would she, they barely knew each other after all. No, this torture was of a professional kind. Ami was a rival, even though they weren’t in the same league. Hell, they weren’t playing the same sport. While Gavin struggled to get views and gather a following Ami was slowly but steady becoming one of the more infamous streamers and Let’s Players out there. She was beating him mercilessly, not only in views and fame. He had faced her in a couple of tournaments for various fighting games, and even though he was good at them she somehow always had his number, crushing him in their matches and taunting him afterwards as the crowd roared in appreciation of the verbal beatdown.

“How the fuck does she get so many viewers?...” Gavin stared intently at the screen, looking at both Ami and the game while listening to her taunt her opponents while cracking jokes. There were no denying her skill, the build she had done for her character was considered idiotic by most people but Ami somehow made it work. Everyone that dared to step up got knocked down and Gavin had no idea how she pulled it off. He played the game as well but he had opted for a build that attacked from a long range and did damage with things like fire or acid, slowly draining his opponents of health while staying at a safe distance. Even so he had been killed numerous times, despite having far more HP than Ami’s character. Gavin had never went up against her though, he knew she was far too skilled for him.

But despite her skill and quick mouth that most people would say was the key to her success Gavin deep down thought it was because of something else. For some reason he denied he thought so, but it was always there. And as always they were on display along with her pretty face and wild hair that was pink for the evening.

Her breasts.

No doubt that Ami had an amazing rack, and while some people openly claimed it was the only reason for her success that wasn’t true. She was good and she was entertaining, but Gavin was also sure (but still denying it) that she never would’ve gotten noticed unless she had flaunted her looks like she did.

“What the fuck do I need to do to get to her level?” Muttering to himself as the stream ended he leaned back again, trying to scramble a couple of ideas loose. It didn’t happen though and he soon found himself lazily staring around the room until his eyes noticed something on the floor by his door. He leaned forward a bit to change the angle and immediately knew what it was. It was his review copy of Brawlmania 17X Foxtrot, a new fighting game being released in a little less than a month. The series was legendary, but Gavin hadn’t bothered to start playing it yet. Which was stupid of him, review copies was a good way for him to get new games without having to pay for them. He did write reviews for a minor gaming site, but he didn’t get paid for it. Instead he did get to keep the game, and considering his strained budget it was something he needed.

Sighing as he looked at it he knew he needed to get started on it, but he just didn’t feel like it. Not alone at least, he usually invited his friends over to play with him, but they were busy or out of the country. So unless he could find someone else to play with…

“Wait.” Gavin jolted in his chair as he sat up, an idea forming in his head. His eyes darted around the room, not really focusing on anything as he was lost in thought. Once the last horse was in the stable again he reached for his phone, sorting through his contacts and easily found Ami there. Despite not being that close or even hanging out in private they did talk sometimes, exchanging numbers a few tournaments ago.

“Hey,” he typed a message, his thumbs flicking the screen rapidly. “It’s Gavin. You wanna hang out?” Pressing ‘Send’ he immediately started working on a new message, realizing that it could sound weird if he left it like that. “Got a copy of the new Brawlmania game I gotta do a review of, was hoping to get your input on it.” That was true. While Gavin was good at games like these he knew that Ami was better and could help him out. However, he had another motive behind it. He wanted to spend time with Ami, pick her brain. He wanted to know what she did to get so successful. If he could find that out it would help him set up a new strategy in gathering a following and getting his name out there.

“There’s a bus leaving in 10 or so, if I catch that one I could be at your place in about 30.” Gavin didn’t know exactly where Ami lived, just the area since she had mentioned it when talking to him before. Looking at the screen he hoped she would reply, biting his bottom lip as he was energized by the idea of getting a few tips from her.

 

[NDIaC]

At first Ami had no idea who the hell was sending her a text message. It was her own fault really, since she loved to give everyone a stupid nickname in her phone. Normally she was able to keep track of who was who, her simple system of calling her 'lovers' Rando along with a number worked well. But now she was just staring at a picture of Judge Judy holding a photoshopped plastic hammer, the name underneath it read “Gavel Asshat”. Sure, he had put his name in the text, but that didn't really ring any bells either. It wasn't a surprise that Ami wasn't particularly good with names, only a select few ever stuck out in her head for one reason or another. But this prick, how the hell did he get her number? Ami's thumbs were tapping at her screen before she actively thought of a response, though another text blinked onto the screen before she had the chance to hit send. It was probably for the best, since she was about to let who ever the hell this was have it. Her green gaze flickered over the screen, taking in what was said and it was then that it all came crashing back to her.

Gavin. Gavel. It was that dork with the glasses and the stupid Youtube channel. She recalled him then, wielding that gavel and spouting off his “sentence you to” catchphrase. Really, who has a catchphrase? She also recalled meeting him a time or two, though the only time she could honestly recall was when she smashed him to dust in the last fighting tournament she attended. He wasn't that much of a chump, the bout had been intense and made the crowd go crazy, but Ami had the upper hand the entire time. She didn't recall giving him her number, but again, that wasn't really much of a surprise. No doubt they had run into each other afterwards, or before, he was kind of cute so she was sure she had a momentary bout of weakness. He was far from her type though, oh hell no, he kind of have that willowy stick look to him. Ami couldn't help but wonder how much that gavel schtick dried up the poon, it was just kind of sad really.

The mention of Brawlmania did catch her attention though. The latest one was coming out soon, some immeasurable number all in roman numerals, she didn't bother to count. Still, the game was always hot when it first came out, even if there wasn't much variety between last years version. She participated in a few Brawlmania tournaments in the past, so she was pretty familiar with the typical rooster, though each edition spawned out a few more characters to bolster their numbers. She hadn't gotten an advanced copy, it really wasn't her thing to do reviews and she already had her calender pretty much booked with work for the rest of the month. The game simply slipped through the cracks, though no doubt she'd fiddle with it at some point in the future. Still, the chance to play a game before it was released to the general public was hard to resist, especially with the idea that was slowly starting to form within her devious mind. A smug little smile drifted out over her lips as she quickly erased the orignal message and typed out a completely different one.

“Ohey mr Gavel. Brawlmania huh? You really want to have your ass handed to you in person? Kk.”

Ami typed out, though hastily added in another message as her mind finally caught up to her thumbs.

“My place is off Main Street. Apartment 168 B. Also. Bring pizza.”

With that Ami set down her phone and hoisted herself up from her chair. She arched her back, curled her arms above her head and gave a good stretch. With a little groaning whimper she felt her tense muscles relax slightly. That smug smile returned to her plush lips and without another moment of hesitation she set about getting things in order. First off, she disrobed, tugging off the revealing shirt and unleashing the girls from their pushup prison. It was a relief to get out of both and into something more comfortable, a simple black tanktop and purple pull over hoodie. She kept her shorts, though slid into a pair of rainbow striped socks that came up to just above her knees. She liked it chilly in her apartment, better than dripping with sweat...save that kind of stuff for the fun stuff. Once she had changed clothes she made her way to her living room and got her equipment setup. She had everything interconnected, so she could record herself playing PC or console games without any downtime switching between the two. Her 55 inch TV was attached to the far wall, with a plush carpet and coffee table in front of a over sized loveseat. Everything was new and in good condition, Ami didn't go for the cheap shit, only the best for her. With that thought she ventured into her small kitchen and got herself a drink. There was no fruity cocktails or other pretentious drinks, just a simple Screwdriver would do. She sipped on the drink as she returned to the living room, her hips swaying ever so slightly under her baggy hoodie, just long enough to almost cover her hips completely but still gave a decent hint of the curves underneath.

Only then did she plant herself down on the couch and roll herself a spliff. Her stash was left out in the open, most of her paraphernalia stuffed into a small wooden box she left on the coffee table next to her well used ashtray. She licked the rolling paper and twisted it skillfully between her slender, deft digits. All there was to do now was wait, so Ami settled back into the couch and started up Netflix. If she was lucky she could fit another episode of X-Files in before Gavin the Gavel came a knocking. If only he knew what she had in store for him he might have thought twice.

 

[Trucken]

Gavin stared at the phone in his hand, his gaze fixated on the illuminated screen. Growing impatient he started to rock back and forth in his chair, thinking it was taking too long for Ami to reply.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’moooooonnn…” Muttering to himself he urged Ami on, really wanting her to reply and tell him to come over. And she did.

“YES!” Gavin flew out of his chair, pumping his fist in victory. Even though Ami said in her text that she would whoop him in Brawlmania it wasn’t those words he focused on, it was the short ‘kk’ at the end, meaning he could come over. This was big for Gavin, he was getting time alone with Ami where he could hopefully get some tips out of her, not only about fighting games but also about how to get his name out there and get a bigger following. While celebrating, his phone buzzed again. Ami had sent her address along with an order for pizza. That made Gavin pause his celebration, he didn’t have a whole lot of money after all. Staring at the screen he wondered if he should text her and ask if it was OK if he didn’t bring one, his fingers hovering above the screen as he tried to decide what he should reply.

“I’ll pick one up. See you in thirty or so.” Ultimately he came to the conclusion that it was an investment. Spend money to make money and all that. Plus he wasn’t sure if Ami would’ve allowed him to come over without pizza. Even though he didn’t know her that well he kinda doubted it.

Gavin quickly collected his things and laced up his black and red Converse sneakers before running out the door. The stairwell outside his apartment was filthy, various trash like beercans and burgerwrappers scattered across the floor. The walls weren’t that much better either, covered in various graffiti and dust, the once white paint having turned yellow by now. Various sounds could be heard coming through the doors to the different apartments, such as music, angry conversations, and televisions with the volume turned way up. Yeah, this was the poor part of town for sure, and it was stereotypically so. Gavin even bumped into the local Mexican streetgang when he stepped out the door, the four thugs dressed in black and white looking up at him from the bottom of the stairs. The leader of the group, and the gang as a whole known as the LA Cartel (even though they weren’t an actual cartel), was a man known as Scorpion, or Score for short. A tall man with a thick build thanks to both a lot of time spent lifting weights and a love for cheeseburgers he looked quite menacing. Add in the obvious thug-look that he had, complete with a Los Angeles Kings-cap with a straight visor, a checkered black and white shirt with only the top button closed, and a pair of saggy black jeans and it wasn’t uncommon that people gave him space when meeting him on the sidewalk. Some even crossed the street to avoid him.

“Eeeey, the Gavel! How the fuck ya doin’ man?” Despite being from very different walks of life Scorpion grinned when he saw Gavin and cheerfully greeted him, a slight Mexican accent to his speech.

“What’s up Score? How’s my favorite cartel doing tonight?” Smiling at the group as he walked down the stairs he extended his hand to Scorpion who grabbed it, the two giving each other one of those weird hugs with their hands between them and a hand on the shoulder of the other person.

“All fuckin’ good man,” the much larger man replied as he hugged Gavin. “Out here makin’ sure those fuckin’ assholes from the Carson Two-eighteenth Battery’s not coming up her tryin’ some shit.”

“How you doing Manny? Smoke. Guerrero.” Gavin greeted the rest of the group in the same way as he had Scorpion, all of them confirming things were good. Well except for Guerrero, he had only been in LA for a few months and didn’t quite speak English yet. Manny was nice enough to act as his translator though, making Guerrero say something Gavin didn’t understand, but judging by his tone and smile on his face it seemed everything was all good before Gavin turned back to Scorpion.

“What, they’re trying to take over the neighborhood,” Gavin asked.

“Wanna sell their fuckin’ poison here. Not allowin’ that shit to happen in my fuckin’ hood.” Scorpion tapped his chest with his closed fist, showing that he wasn’t about to let anything happen to his home. Didn’t stop him and the rest of the Cartel from selling various drugs in other areas though.

“Good we got you guys lookin’ out for the rest of us.” Gavin nodded as he said so, making sure he wasn’t sounding sarcastic. After all, he kinda liked most of the guys in the LA Cartel. After moving there he had quickly gotten on Score’s good side, not because he intended to, but because they somehow started talking and came to the realization that they both liked videogames. Score was even a big fan of Gavin’s videos, having seen all of them at least one time.

“Damn right, we take care of ours.” The rest of the group nodded in agreement, all of them taking pride in protecting their street, their turf.

“You’re the ones stopping this place from going to shit fellas,” Gavin said as he started moving away from the group. “Look, not to be rude, but I gotta run, got a bus to catch. Stay safe guys, alright?”

“Hey, take care man,” Scorpion shouted after him, before remembering something. “Hey Gavin! You reviewin’ the new Madden game this year?”

“I think so,” Gavin shouted back. “And once I’m done with it it’s yours!” Score and the rest of the group raised their arms in the air, celebrating. Gavin sometimes gave Scorpion his review copies once he was done with them, knowing it was a simple way to stay on his good side. Plus he wasn’t all that interested in Madden, so giving it to Scorpion didn’t matter.

“Rams, vato! Goff gonna win us the Super Bowl!” Scorpion hollered as Gavin waved goodbye, picking up his pace as he headed for the bus.

The trip to Ami’s place was pretty uneventful except for a drunk on the bus rambling on about how dental floss was a form of mind control created by squirrels. As for the pizza Gavin had found a place near Ami’s on Google that had gotten good reviews, so he stopped by and picked up a deep dish with plenty of cheese and beef. He had pondered getting the same pizza with béarnaise sauce on it, but ultimately decided against it. It took a refined palate to appreciate that, and while he didn’t know much about Ami’s… Well, he didn’t wanna risk it.

“Let’s see, one-sixty A, one-sixty B…” Gavin walked through the hallway, looking at the numbers on the door as he tried to find Ami’s apartment. It was obvious that he wasn’t home any more, there was a stark contrast between his neighborhood and this part of town. Not that this was extremely luxurious in any way, but it was just so much nicer and cleaner compared to where he lived. Plus he hadn’t seen any gangmembers which was just weird.

“Ah, here we go.” Gavin found the door with the combination of numbers and letters he was looking for, 168 B. Holding the box with the pizza in one hand he knocked on the door, impressed with how thick and solid the door felt compared to his own.

“Game and pizza delivery,” he said to the door, his voice slightly raised, not even sure if his voice would manage to carry through it.

 

[NDIaC]

It took Ami a few minutes to hear the knocking over the TV. By the time Gavin made his way to her apartment she had gone through her joint, almost finished an episode and was already tingling from the kush, nothing but the best for Ami Zed after all. There was a light haze in the living room, though Ami could still make out the handsome face of David Duchovny wanting to believe while Gillian Anderson refused to even acknowledge the crazy shit she had been seeing for several seasons. She took in a breath and released it as a deep sigh before pushing off her comfy couch, her baggy purple hoodie falling in place about her sleek frame. She was all but hidden by it, except for those long, toned legs encased in the rainbow of stripes racing up and down them. Her feet shuffled against the carpet as she made her way to the door, peaked out the hole just to make sure it was really Gavin there and not some psycho wearing his face (though to be honest he could be a psycho...he did have a prop gavel after all..weirdo). After a few moments of unlatching several locks and chains she swung open the door slowly, greeting Gavin with lazy, heavy lidded green eyes and a wide, knowing smile. Her magenta bangs hung to the left side of her face, dipping well past her chin, the rest slowly shortening to almost a pixie cut on the other side. Despite just lounging about the house Ami looked damn good, it was just nature after all.

“Hey,” She said simply, her gaze drinking in the boy before her. Yes, she considered him a boy, he just had that young, innocent and kind of naive look about him. Not her typical fare really, she either liked them tall and athletic or voluptuous and stacked. He wasn't exactly a neckbeard, more of the dumpy dork who could use a makeover.

“C'mon in. Hope you don't mind the smell, I was just relaxing a bit after a hard days work.” Ami chortled, a fluting little giggle high in her throat. The stench was obvious, even for one that didn't partake regularly, or at all. The noise of the TV still blared from the living room, the lights flashing across the stark white walls and up the hallway. Ami went in for the goods, namely the pizza, relieving him of the box before turning from him and shuffling back towards the inner core of her abode. She left the door open, not even waiting for him to even fully enter the building before she made her way to the kitchen. It was small and cluttered, with brand new appliances and a fridge with water AND ice from the door. Classy stuff. She grabbed a few paper plates, a roll of paper towels and found her way back into the living room. Gavin was mostly ignored, or at least left to his own devices on how he wanted to go about. He could wander if he wanted, Ami seemed oblivious to the stranger really.

“Oh. Shit,” She sighed when she set the pizza down on the coffee table, her brow furrowing in annoyance. “I forgot the drinks. Yer not a pussy, right?” She finally acknowledged Gavin once more, shooting him a index finger, pointing at his chest as she flashed that charming smile that cold melt even a heart of steel. “No diet soda for you. Yer a beer kinda guy.”

The smile widened into a grin, hell, if she was completely wrong about that who really would correct her when she smiled at them like that? Besides, she didn't wait around for him answer, she was already sauntering back towards the kitchen anyway. She returned shortly after with two long necks. They weren't the watered down piss that most people drank either, but the imported dark stuff. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise really, Ami liked what she liked and wouldn't accept anything less.

“So. You cracked open the game yet? You better not, otherwise it wouldn't be a fair fight.” Ami pointed to the couch, ushering Gavin towards it with another pointing finger.

“Sit.” She commanded, before claiming the spot beside him. The TV show was still going on and for a few moments Ami watched it, even while she flipped the box open and started to dish out the deep dish.

“Good call. This place is the shit,” Ami said before promptly filling her face with pizza. It was an unladylike bite, her cheeks puffed a bit as she chewed nosily. The beer was in her other hand, soon being funneled into her mouth as well.

“Lemme finish this episode. I hate stopping mid-show.” She said as she settled back with the big slice in hand. She watched, snorting and laughing at the old sci-fi show, notably at the seeming randomness of the plot.

“So...” She finally said as the show ended, nothing left but crust in her hand, which she tossed aside with absolutely no interest. “Is Thew the Mighty still in the game? He better be, he's mah boy!”

Ami switched input on the TV, only to start up the TV and console with a few presses of her remote. A few screens came up, additional ones that looked more like some program for recording video.

“Hope you don't mind. I thought I'd record some of it. I won't post it till the release and after yer review. It's only fair.” She flashed that smile again, really giving no room for argument. She had sprung the idea out of no where on him, though she had obviously planned it from the start.

“I'll dub over the audio later....maybe I can use some soundbites from you. Gotta throw a dog a bone sometimes...” She tittered, ah now that laugh was more than a little condescending, a backhanded compliment if there ever was one. “Be a dear and stick the game in? It's over there to the left. And dun touch the statues, they're worth more than yer life.”

She gave another gesture, pointing with her index finger towards the TV. The console lay underneath the second shelf, along with several medium sized statues of various famous characters from popular games. They were the ridiculously detailed kind, the ones that were hundreds of dollars that only those with a lot of disposable income could afford.