Page 10 of Level Up for Love

Chapter

Two

Later that evening, I sit with my feet tucked under me on Mona’s plush couch while she waters the dozens of plants cluttered on her shelves, humming under her breath.

In our cozy house in New Haven’s East Rock neighborhood, Mona and I have perfected our living arrangement. We’re both too independent and too picky to share an apartment—we’ve tried that—but as soon as she finished undergrad at Quinnipiac and the unit directly below mine opened up, she moved right in. She’s close enough that I can borrow her clothes whenever I’m feeling particularly peppy or colorful, but far enough that we can both enjoy our space when we need it.

Now I pepper her with questions from the game’s character sheet and backstory questionnaire. In the questionnaire’s intro, the DM provided information about the campaign and the world within it, painting a compelling, high-stakes picture of a shattered kingdom, a gothic setting, and a dark curse spreading throughout the realm. It gives us lots of elements to incorporate into our characters’ stories.

“Character species?” I ask.

“Orc.”

“Ooh, a new one for you. Class?”

“Druid.”

I huff a laugh. “Druid? Again?” This would be her third druid, a class known for its love of nature and ability to shape-shift into various animals.

When Mona doesn’t answer, I look up from the sheet of paper. She sits on a cushion next to her impressively tall monstera with her eyes closed and breath held, lit pipe in hand. She finally releases a thin thread of smoke out the window, then turns to fix me with a half-lidded and slightly reddened deadpan stare. “Sue me, Reagan.”

It’s a fitting class, I’ll give her that.

“Name?” I ask.

“Moss.”

I laugh. “Cute. And we want our characters to be friends, right? We’re establishing that they’ve known each other for a long time?”

“They’re practically sisters,” Mona confirms.

“Of course,” I say warmly. Honestly, I’m kind of buzzing with excitement to actually play with my sister for the first time in years. While I’m still a little worried that this “advanced players” game will just be a miserable, combat-heavy dungeon crawl, the fact that this character creation form is so detailed has me feeling tentatively optimistic. When I see one particular note near the bottom of the page, I grunt a noise of surprise. Impressive.

“What is it?” Mona asks.

“Since we’re starting at a higher level and it’s supposed to be a difficult campaign, the DM is letting each player choose a powerful magic item from a list to start the game with. There are two left to choose from.”

“Huh! Nice.” Mona crawls onto the couch and peers over my shoulder. “Give me that one,” she says, pointing to the description of a vine-wrapped wooden staff that will help her character heal more effectively.

“Noted,” I say. “I’ll take the sword.”

Mona eyes me sidelong, her face creased with amusement. “You still haven’t picked a class. What will you be? Barbarian? Fighter? Ooh, a paladin?”

“…I’m working on it.”

I continue to pepper Mona with questions as I fill out her backstory form. As she outlines her character’s motivations, personality, history, and goals, I can’t help but stitch together ideas for my own character—someone who would be the perfect adventuring companion for Moss. As a spellcaster, Moss will need someone to protect her, so I choose a fighter. My character will be brutally efficient, strong, and entirely capable of handling whatever monsters this Warlock cooks up. As I finish building her out, I write her name at the top of the page: Sindra.

After I’m done, Mona starts to fidget restlessly with the tassels on a throw pillow, casting curious, searching glances at me every ten seconds or so. I smile, and without looking up, I ask, “What?”

She does a little shimmy of impatience, narrow shoulders twitching. “Well, are you finished? Are you finally going to show me?”

“Show you what?”

She makes an exasperated noise. “You know.”

Right. I forgot.

“Tomorrow?” I try.