I typed in “Artie.”
Alan laughed. “Artie?”
“You said anything.”
“Yeah, but a human warrior is a tank. A total badass. And you’re going to ruin his rep by naming him Artie.”
“What’s the name of your character?” I countered.
“Athene the dark elf from the forests of High Windsfell.”
“Well, I like Artie.”
“Bowen!” Alan protested.
“Alan,” Felix murmured, not looking up from his magazine. “Let him be Artie.”
Alan rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He told me a few more things I had to do, and then I was in the game.
“Artie isn’t very impressive-looking,” I said.
“Well, he’s naked. You need to put some armor on him.”
My character jumped up and down and started skipping along the road of some Dark-Ages-looking fantasy village. “The loincloth is a nice touch,” I stated.
“Don’t leave town naked,” Alan warned.
“Why?”
“You’ll die in the first battle you come across. Bowen! Come on, put some clothes on Artie!”
Alan walked me through more menus and stat pages than I knew what to do with, but by the end of his very thorough tutorial, my warrior dude was dressed, wielding an ax, and beating the crap out of some highway robbers. It was actually pretty fun.
At some point during my adventuring alongside Alan’s way-more-awesome elf character, Felix had set his magazine aside and contented himself with watching my screen. I moved my arm and he put his head on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair and played the game one-handed.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
Felix hummed in response.
“Battle!” Alan exclaimed from his chair.
I took my hand out of Felix’s hair and reached around to grab his scarred hand before he had a chance to pull it away. I positioned it onto the right side of my keyboard. “Here, you control the inventory.”
“What do I do?” Felix asked.
“Just press Control when I start dying.”
“How do I know—” Felix laughed when the enemy on screen threw Artie to the ground. “Press it?”
“Yes, yes!”
Felix pulled up the inventory page and used a potion to heal Artie.
“Are you guys actually tag-teaming the keyboard?” Alan asked, not looking up from his computer.
“Sharing is caring,” I answered.
“You’re going to die,” Alan warned.
