*been a while, huh? I'm still alive, still kicking. I wrote this chapter and damn did I have fun doing it. Feels like a first in a long time. I got to 3k words without realising it. Sure, feels like filler, but it's also funky-at least for me. So, enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult*
The suit clung to his body perfectly, fitting him in all the right places, while drawing out some kind of allure from his face—or that's what he told himself to try and calm down the anxiety. It kept rising, slowly, steadily, always there, bubbling right beneath his skin. Public speech was something he could nail, but always found difficult to get into.
'Shit. I had to choose this to promote the game, but now I feel like my tongue is tied. I'm sure I'll get asked some stuff by Owlbert that doesn't have much to do with the game. Guess I'll just play it off and go along. Improvising, baby. That's how I do it.'
A soft knock at the door, and a voice calling for him, reminding him that the livestream was about to start in a couple of minutes. He was ready, pampered slightly to look better on camera, dressed to match. It had been a quick endeavor, barely taking him a day. One call, his name, a quick identity check, and there he was, ready for the stage. Apparently, his supposed 'fame' hadn't died out as quickly as he expected. He's ended up becoming a pretty big subject for a while, and people still had curiosities about him.
'Sadly for 'em, this won't be much about me. It's going to be me blabbering quickly to answer some questions, then I'll move on to promoting my product. The trailer's done and ready to be served with the footage I have from the devs. Damn, when did I even get here? Random nobody turned... whatever I may be.'
Wiping the sweat on his brow while feeling the cold droplets run down his back, he stood up, fixing his pants out of habit. No wrinkles, yet he kept looking back on the times his mother would keep reminding him of those over and over, keeping a watchful eye over him. There was no helping his mind as it wondered what she'd say, seeing him in that moment.
'What are they even doing? I hope they don't miss me too much...'
Putting on his best poker face, Mark strode out the room and down the hall, making for the stage and the cameras. The sounds of cheering boomed on the other side as the live went on air, his presence behind the scenes about to be asked for in a flash. Sweat formed on his palms, something that never once gave him peace. Part of him wished to just stop his glands from working overtime in that specific area.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, for today's guest," boomed Owlbert, making a show, as usual. "It's someone you've all heard of but never had a chance to learn much about. The man who hid himself as Five in the Luminary Wardance hosted by the Xianzhou Luofu, the Saviour of the Dream, protector of Penacony in times of strife," Mark couldn't help but die inside a little, wishing for a nice owl soup in that moment. "The Trailblazer of unknown origins who claimed the stage, Mark!"
That was his cue, and he needed no signal from those behind the scenes. His steps took him right up there, in the spotlight, his eyes taking a second or two to get used to the brightness. Apparently, there was a crowd watching live from that location, his gaze scanning quickly. Somewhere in the back, he took notice of a familiar hat belonging to someone he didn't hold at heart.
The couch came closer and closer as he waved, smiling just a bit, keeping about his wit and familiar charade of indifference. That was his trademark for the most part, a tired face that said little about his true emotions unless he showed them willingly.
"Thank you for the warm welcome, Owlbert," he nodded, crossing his legs casually as his arms rested on the upper side of the couch, spread out like wings. His eyes glanced from the cameras to the stage, taking note of Black Swan sitting there at the front, drawing curious glances from those who didn't know her.
'She must be enjoying herself. Welp, I better get this over with.'
He looked back to the host, waiting for whatever questions he had in mind. Truth be told, they didn't get to discuss much, with each one going along with the motions, glad to get something worth their time.
"Well, Mark, now that you're here, I hope you're down to answering some questions and giving us some insight into the man behind these heavy titles."
"Let's just say that I'm prepared to answer as much as I can. A man's gotta keep a few secrets here and there, lest I show my hand."
Owlbert tagged along with Mark's somewhat brazen answers, looking rather pleased with himself for striking what he called a good episode after a long time of mundane affairs.
"I'm sure no one expects less of you, especially after the Wardance. It was then that witnesses from Penacony managed to tie your face to the lone figure that took to the skies, fighting what most had deemed a losing battle from the very beginning."
Mark's face remained motionless, cracking just a half-lipped grin, his usual. On the inside, however, the world spun ever so slightly. Footage from back then.
'I was totally unaware. I should spend more time on the internet, hell... I got rid of my phone addiction by partaking in different shenanigans, and somehow it bites me in the butt... fucking hell.'
"Oh, it's just what us Trailblazers do. It's a call to action, to protect the innocent and those we care for. I'm just doing my part," he spoke calmly, with a trace of innocent softness fitting the ideal—a dream more than anything, one he chased with all his might.
"Splendid words, Mark," replied Owlbert, looking to the camera. "Now, for one of the questions we've had, something that everyone was curious about: why hide your identity during the Wardance? Surely, if I were in your shoes, I'd go for the spotlight in full glory," he cackled, swinging his wings around like makeshift swords.
'Heh, I guess they do like drama, don't they? Should I sprinkle some story up on the spot and bring out my creativity, or just dodge the answer and keep up the somewhat shady persona?'
Mark's hand went up to his chin, pretending to think for a bit. With a dreamy voice, he spoke up.
"Well, you see... there's a certain thrill to being the underdog, the unknown who shows up and steals the show. I guess I went for that feeling, the boost from being seen and judged purely for my skill, not the face attached to it."
Silence for a bit as the host nodded, the public looking rather pleased, whispering among themselves. Black Swan watched, holding a bag of popcorn she got who knew where. In the back, the woman with the oversized hat simply stared right into his eyes, a sultry, pleased smile on her lips.
He felt like he could read the thoughts firing up inside her mind, the pleasure she got from having him rely on them, offering them something in return—his presence, his words, all for a chance to promote something that might not be worth it. In truth, the only idea about the gaming scene of the universe that Mark held came from the minigames and events he's seen inside the game.
'Hell, I'm taking a huge gamble, but there's a nice saying I like: The children yearn for the mines. It's the funniest way someone can describe the affinity children have with Minecraft... or hopefully my supposed Markcraft.'
"A man who cherishes a good fight and the thrill that comes with it. My, oh my, it seems you enjoy fighting a lot—and you sure showed it in a flamboyant display up against the Merlin's Claw. The footage from back then skyrocketed the views into oblivion and beyond."
Mark laughed at that, shaking his head slightly. It felt odd to hear that people actually watched that moment in bulk. The thoughts came and went, but he didn't dwell enough on some, allowing them to slip out of his grasp.
"That moment, huh? I must admit, it was intense, and I do look back on it fondly now... Remember, everyone," he mused, looking to the camera, his tired gaze carrying just a touch more light, a soft crinkle at the corners. "Hard work does pay off, but you also have to be smart about it. There's some risk to be had and some payoffs that might be losses. Tread carefully, and strike a balance. That way, you'll grow both as a person and as a warrior."
The advice, wherever the hell it crawled out from, came with a note of sincerity he didn't know would show so eagerly in public. The guarded words he usually held ready simply faded, leaving behind a bare, unfiltered truth.
"Wonderful advice, Mark. Wonderful indeed. This actually relates to the next question: how did you get so strong? Most people are also curious about your origins and how you ended up on the Astral Express of all places."
'Striking right at the core, ey, Owlbert? I wonder who had you ask me these things. Of course, I'm not stupid enough to answer truthfully, but whoever planned for them to be asked expected at least SOME clue. If I deny some things, I might prove others.'
He cleared his throat, preparing to answer with a made-up finesse that moved the show his own way, portraying him as something he isn't, someone more cunning with better self esteem and abilities that outdid his own.
"My now, that's a rather private question. Each journey has a start, each one different in its own right. My story may be whatever the public wants it to be. I just know where I am now and look forward to the future, the only thing I can actually change."
A moment of practiced stillness, allowing the information to settle in the minds of the spectators.
"As for how I got so strong... just keep training. Do whatever you can, and keep training. Life grants some certain abilities, while others don't have such a privilege. It's important to know your limits, tho. Don't go trying to bite off more than you can chew."
His arms crossed together, no more coming out on the subject. Instead, he looked over to Jade, sparing her a brief glance as if blaming her for the questions.
'From the public or not, they aim for shit I'm not going to disclose. Let them try to find my identity as much as they can. I managed to get into the system already through some easy means thanks to being part of the Astral Express and knowing the right people. I'm clean on paper... or digital screens.'
Owlbert nodded, not really satisfied with the answer, yet there wasn't much they could do. The rest of the show went back and forth, with questions coming in live, and Mark answering them truthfully if they were lighthearted curiosities or straight up dodging them like bullets in the Matrix.
"It seems we have a rather funny question here, Mark. I hope you're ready to answer. It's plain and rather simple: 'Hey, Mark, since when did you become a celebrity, and why didn't you take us with you?' followed by a lot of emojis that have their tongue sticking out."
Mark found himself laughing once more, falling in the same old habit of shaking his head whenever something outside his personal script happened.
"Oh, that must be March. Yep, hi guys, I'm on TV and wherever else this thing is being streamed to."
There was his chance.
"Recall the game I told you about back on the Express? Well, time for the reveal. It's something I had in the works for a short while, and it'll still take some time before the final version can be released to the public, yet I guess this is the best chance to show it off."
He stood up, stealing the show from Owlbert to present the game.
"Now, most of you know me for what I showed in the past, a rough side comparable to a sword's blade. Now, I show you the side of me that's a touch more pen-like, creative in its own right: I hope you guys love games where creativity reigns, endless planes for you to expand your ideas on, to play with friends or alone, and explore to your heart's content. The universe is large, but so is the world in this game."
He motioned to the screen, where the video started playing, prepared since earlier before. A world of endless cubes came into view: lush forests, giant mountains, and lands that stretched far beyond what the eye could see. It wasn't fully like the vanilla experience for Minecraft. He had chosen to have mods directly implemented into the game to bring it up to speed with the need for more.
In a world were most of the things one could achieve with modded Minecraft were real, he had to step up the base experience from the start and go big. Countless mods he knew prior, mixed with his own personal preferences on things, came together to form the new experience, one he himself was looking forward to.
"It's my pleasure to present to you all a vision that far outdoes a normal gaming experience. It thrives on creativity, on the user's willingness to grind away and survive in a normal world, or the simple desire to experiment with all there is to find in a gamemode not so creatively titled: Creative. Of course the other one has to be Survival, right? Alone or with friends, it's your call to make," he spoke firmly.
Black Swan, however, caught a glimpse of the joyous child found in that memory Mark had given her. It was the same joy he'd experienced back then, the wonder of a new world at the tips of his fingertips—now shared with everyone. She was most thrilled to be there to witness the moment, glad to have made a tiny gamble by following him around.
'The memories are priceless, Mark. I'm glad I chose to follow you. Show me how much higher you can go.'
Mark glanced to the public, seeking reactions—and he sure found them. Some were curious, others looked excited, while some seemed to already look forward to monetary results, the gears in their minds spinning to try and steal a chunk of it should the game grow in popularity.
"Now, the question does arise: Where can we find this game should we wish to buy it upon release?" he kept going, adding upon the existing emotions. His heart throbbed with a mix of panic and sheer, wonderful adrenaline born not from fright, but from the unhinged lust for success, for greatness built upon the things he loved brought together under his perspective.
Owlbert himself was staring at Mark, trapped in the seat of a witness, not a teller. He wasn't the one pulling the show along, not in that moment. Mark's eyes fell on the cameras, staring at them no matter how bad he thought he'd appear on video. It was something he'd gotten used to already.
"Well, it's safe to say I plan on setting up my own website to host it. Just look up MarkCraft, and trust me, you'll surely figure out which one's the right link."
He winked at the camera, surprising himself a little. With a slight nudge of his head to the side, Mark turned to the screen again, watching the gameplay unfold. It had the same simple look Minecraft had, but with a lot more twists one would only see in modded models and whatnot. It surely seemed strange, but the progression was there, prolonged to have content for months after the End dimension was conquered.
"Well, that's the footage for now. It's probably not much, but as you could see there, the limit to one's creativity is just their mind. Explore new dimensions, conquer monsters heard of only in legends, build civilizations that can rival what one can see in reality. Harness the power of a blackhole in your backyard as you build another skyscraper because why not?"
The public just stared at him, curious for more. He couldn't even fathom what the ones watching from their devices at home or wherever were probably saying, yet Owlbert seemed livid as he checked the viewer count. Mark winked at the bird, who managed to wink back, looking so pleased that he nearly fainted.
'I guess that was a success. Now, finishing touches. Hell, good thing I got Silver Wolf on such short notice to set up the website, even if it's somewhat bleak for now. She's insane when it comes to coding, and hearing about the game got her spiraling. I do love working behind the scenes to get stuff going.'
With that, Mark took his seat back, answering a few more questions about the game, mundane aspects that those familiar with the mechanics would already know—yet for them it was new.
In the end, he left with a wide grin on his face, exchanging glances with Jade one last time. She had a tiny smirk on her lips, looking pleased.
'Yeah, yeah, look all smug. I made sure I'd have to pay the smallest tax on income possible to you guys. Don't make me try tax evasion... even the Stellaron Hunters feared messing with the IRS of this world... I might be the first. Hell, I bet those money-hungry fucks would react worse to losing money than lives. Typical.'
Thus, Mark left behind a pleased Owlbert who was at a lowered risk of losing his job, an open invitation extended to him to co-host sometimes, since he seemed fit for the job with how he spoke.
'We'll see about that. I'll surely come in when I have new things to announce. I got away cheaply, with what's probably the most expensive advertisement form done just for showing up. IPC, be ready... there's a new contender on the market, and I'm coming for the gaming scene.'