Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Always Blame the Support (Vicodin + Iko)

Joined
Mar 29, 2010
The team was making history, and yet none of them knew it yet. Four guys sat around the living room, a flat screen television displaying an Overwatch tournament back in Japan. The four guys laid on couches and sat in armchairs, reclining back and enjoying one of the first days off that they've had in a while. Their manager had send them an email that morning, telling them that one of their previous players had been kicked off the team, due to their poor performance in the last tournament. The famed "Triple Sh0t" had a feeling that he wasn't going to be on the team anymore since he wasn't allowed to participate in group games for a month. After some legal issues were brought up in his contract, he was fired and sent back to his home state with nothing but a few thousand dollar stipend to wish him luck. He was lucky that he even got that.

Michael aka "Obsolescence" sat in one of the living room's armchairs. The chair was in the corner of the room, and Obs flicked through girls on his Tindr profile, barely paying attention to the game. Although the chair wouldn't show it, Michael stood at 5'8" with dirty blond hair that was small, but with enough length to give him bangs. His blue eyes were covered by a pair of thin yellow glasses, their sponsored product that intended to prevent eye strain while playing for long periods of time. "Hey guys, do you know who our new teammate is going to be?" the twenty-year-old asked as he looked up from his phone, swiping left on another girl. He was dressed in a pair of baggy track shorts and a white shirt with their team logo (The Watch Dogs) on it. He was as carefree as he looked as he crossed his legs on the armchair and waited for someone to answer.

"Nope," an asian guy replied as he kept his eyes on the screen, absorbing the plans that one of the teams was doing to have a perfect defense on the payload. Every country seemed to have a different playstyle, even across the teams. The Japanese preferred to have a style that was quick on reactions and perfect aim, which was crucial to the competitive Overwatch scene. Om Gun, named "Rider" got his name from bicycle riding, which he considered to be his hobby before he got into professional gaming. Now, he joked that his name was a reference to "riding the ladder", which meant ascending the professional ranks very quickly. He looked to be a 21 year old Korean, imported from the country before Overwatch had become popular. The Watch Dogs had started off as a corporation of numerous other teams, and each of the guys started in a different game before they moved to Overwatch. Rider's game was Call of Duty. He was the lone wolf, it seemed. He didn't have much to say, and when he did talk, it was in short bursts. Even his own team wasn't aware if he still had problems with English or was just simply shy. Rider had short black hair and the same pair of glasses on, and was dressed in some jeans and a shirt from one of his favorite animes: Kill La Kill. While he wasn't taking any notes on the game that he watched, he was certainly trying to memorize any new strategies that he could take to the tournaments.

"Everyone on Reddit says that it's a chick," the third guy said. "All the gaming websites are predicting that we're going to get a girl on our team, for some reason."

The final guy scoffed, but didn't say much else. The third one continued. "Yeah, me too. I mean I'm not sexist, but name one girl that's a professional gamer right now."

The room grew silent except for the cheering from the TV as one of the teams had won. The third guy chuckled. "Exactly. I guess we'll just have to see, huh?" This man seemed to be a spitting image of Michael, but only slightly taller with more unkempt hair. His hair was also a dirty blond, which hung in bangs close to his eyes. He was also on his phone, browsing through Twitter and Reddit. This 20-year-old stood 5'11" with hazel eyes that stared daggers into the phone, pure curiosity keeping him scrolling through his phone. Who was their teammate! His manager was being very secretive about it. He really had no reason to... unless the web sites were true. Nevertheless, Zachary aka "Poisonous" or Zach put his phone back into his pocket and looked towards the tournament. "Who won?" He was dressed in a pair of gray sweat pants and their team's T-shirt, obviously not caring what he wore since it was a day off.

Finally, Steven spoke up, the final guy who had gotten up to walk into the kitchen to grab a snack. "If it's a chick, she better be cute or else why bother?" he said. Most of the guys (Rider wasn't paying attention) laughed and Steven smirked, grabbing himself an apple to munch on as he jumped back on the couch and sat down. Steven seemed to be the oldest of the group. Being 22, he had gotten into professional games late, starting with Hearthstone a year ago. He ascended the ranks within months and won his first tournament, which got him sponsorship for The Watch Dogs. His immediate rise to the top had somewhat gotten to his head, as he frequently ignored his critics on twitter and other gaming websites, thinking that they were simply people that were feeding off of the bottom of the barrel. He had black hair and brown skin, evidence of his Mexican heritage. His brown eyes moved back to the TV, checking the time to see that it was already 1:00 PM. "When are they going to get here?"

Meanwhile... a man stood outside the airport with the new player's name on a cardboard sign that he held up. The last few months had been probably one of the biggest changes in her life. Overnight, she was flown from her home town to Los Angeles, California where many of the pro teams were stationed. After she was convinced to sign a contract to become a professional gamer, everything seemed to pass her by. The lawyers explained the contract, even though no one in their right mind would understand what it meant, and was urged to sign it without giving much thought. She was then enrolled in a high school close to the house and told that she had to live there from now on if she wanted to keep her job. Her contract required 8 hours of streaming time a day with two days off every week. If she wanted an exception, she would have to ask her manager for it. Once the chauffeur had found the new team member, he brought all of her luggage into the rented car and drove her towards the house. After a half hour drive where she was allowed to listen to whatever she wanted and even get food if she was hungry, the car stopped outside the Watch Dogs House.

The house was similar to any house that you'd find on the internet or with a real estate agent, except it had way more bedrooms than usual. The house had six bedrooms, one for each member of the team and an extra for any guests that wanted to stop by, such as the manager himself. The house had a kitchen with a surprising lack of food in it, the food being replaced with shakes and powdered drinks to keep the guys active and alert. However, it's obvious that those powders did not replace a well-cooked meal. Apart from milk and some cereal, the guys definitely needed to go grocery shopping. There were two bathrooms in the house, expected to be split between the five of them. The bathroom that she was going to use had a space near the medicine cabinet cleaned off for any of her toiletries. Other than that, she was most likely going to have to go shopping for her bedroom and bathroom.

Each bedroom was decorated differently but hers in particular was unsurprisingly bare. The manager had ordered a dresser, desk, bed, and new Alienware desktop computer that was worth well over 3 thousand dollars. With that computer's specs, she would be able to do everything related to her job with no problem. The programs she needed were already installed, as if the manager couldn't wait for her to start making him money. Outside there was a large backyard with a pool and jacuzzi. Rider's bikes were locked out back, abandoned after he got into gaming. Inside of the garage was two cars, Poison's and Steven's. Poison's car was a preowned black sedan that didn't look to be that impressive while Steven's gray customized car was worth at least tens of thousands of dollars. The garage remained closed as the manager stepped out of his car and walked over to her, opening the door for her.

The manager seemed to be significantly old, as if he was used to running many businesses. He was known as the man who owned a football team, and as such he didn't come around the house that often. He mainly told the players to figure out any problems among themselves. He swore he mentioned in the contract that if all four players voted to fire her, she would be fired and lose her high school scholarship as well as her job. The manager's name was Kevin Schmidt. He knew next to nothing about the professional game industry. Both the owner and manager expected to pick up local tournament winners and start to make money with them. With any other team, that plan would have failed, but with the Watch Dogs it was a miracle. "Pleased to meet you..." the manager said as he shook her hand, the white man standing at 5'8". He had trails of gray in his hair, but still looked like he could pass for a 35 year old who simply was stressed out too much. "Welcome to your new home." Without further ado, he brought her to the door to the house and knocked, before opening it. "Hey guys, I'm proud to announce your new team member!"

And so it begun.
 
Back
Top Bottom