Ravennittes
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System Architect - Ch 29
🕑 Added 2024-09-13 16:00:06 +0000 UTCWhen everything was packed away at Dad’s as much as could be done before actually moving, I used the extra time to rake a few more yards. I couldn’t do too much with finals coming soon, but a few yards over a weekend was doable. I also was able to finish three writing commissions—the first one had such a glowing review that two more followed shortly after. All the work I’d done netted me two more milestones.
Milestone: Earned $100
Exp Gained: 4
Milestone: Earned $1,000
Exp Gained: 8
Milestones barely counted for anything anymore when compared with all of the other experience I gained from quests or other activities. Even the experience from Economic Experience exceeded that of the milestones for the same amount of money I earned! I was glad that I’d settled on the plan to sacrifice the Milestone chain to get to Achievements—if I was able to find a way to afford that one, of course. That one was expensive.
With the weather changing, many of the outside activities I’d been doing became more difficult. There was no more green knotweed—it had gone dormant for the winter—and what remained of the previous year’s shoots were unusable. What was left from this year was in an in-between state—not quite dry and hard but also not quite living. I’d tried to make things from this type of knotweed and it hadn’t gone well.
Since all of my usual sources of Harvesting Experience were gone, I needed to rely more on making things—when I had the time, of course. I postponed the next sewing project—which included learning how to operate a sewing machine—until after my finals were over. Although I wasn’t due the experience for a few years, getting the best grades I could was my top priority.
The week before exams, I put everything else aside. All my focus went towards studying for each and every test I would have to take. The chemistry lab didn’t have any final and my grade in it was good. For the rest of the classes, most were in line for an A—the material wasn’t difficult and homework helped a lot—but there were two that had a chance of a B if the final went a little wrong. Those were the two I put the most effort towards.
Unlike the midterms, the finals were more spread out—taking place over a week-and-a-half. Even with a day or two off between some exams—though there were a couple days with two each—I kept my eyes on the prize. Thankfully, this time were no issues getting refused entry into any of the tests.
I was nervous after finishing all of the finals. I was pretty sure I’d done well—I was pretty good at estimating my score on exams—but there was always that little voice in the back of my head that whispered doubts into my ears. I did my best to ignore them. Thankfully, I only had to wait three days before the scores posted to my student account.
My heart pounded when I clicked the link. I closed my eyes as it loaded then carefully cracked one eye. Immediately, the nerves fell away. Though not everything was an A—there were three A-minuses—I was satisfied with the results of my work that semester. I went downstairs to where Mom was making pancakes.
“Mom!” I said excitedly.
“Yes, pumpkin?”
“Grades posted,” I smiled.
“Oh?” she cocked an eyebrow. “How’d you do?”
“Great!”
I showed Mom the results. Her face lit up in a smile.
“We have to celebrate!” she said.
“It’s fine, Mom,” I tried to say.
“Nonsense! You did well in school and that should be rewarded. I know it’s awkward with you being an adult in a way, but you’re still my son so let me be a proud mother.”
“Sure, Mom, thanks.”
Mom offered me some pancakes and we sat down to eat together.
“So what do you think about going to the arcade?” she asked.
I thought about it. I didn’t have any particular plans for the day outside of the usual—completing quests—so I decided to agree.
We ate and chatted. When we were done, I went upstairs to get ready while Mom cleaned up our plates—she was already dressed and ready to go. I climbed into Mom’s car and she drove me to the arcade. It was in the next town. Even so, the trip was quick.
The arcade was a combination arcade, bowling alley, miniature golf, and go-karts. The facility was large—with a big building housing the arcade and the bowling alley and a larger outside area where the other two activities were. The outside was closed for the season. In spite of that, the place was swarming with families.
We parked and I followed Mom inside. The inside was dimly lit with flashing lights and many sounds ringing and clanging from all over. We went to one of the ticketing machines and Mom loaded a card with fifty dollars and handed it to me.
“See what you can get with this,” she said.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I got my own,” she said, showing it to me. “I’ll stick with you. Maybe when we’re done we can get lunch and bowl?”
“Why not,” I shrugged.
I wandered around—with Mom in tow—until I came across a game I remembered being decent at. It was based on the classic Frogger with a mobile games twist. It took two tries—with Mom doing one in the middle because she ‘used to play this all the time’—but I was able to beat the high score and snag the ticket jackpot.
We went from game to game. Most of them were ones that I picked but some of them were Mom’s choice because they were multiplayer and she figured she’d be able to beat me on them. She was wrong most of the time. Even though my coordination still wasn’t quite as good as hers, I had been playing video games for a long time. Add to that the faster reactions from being a child and I had a distinct advantage in anything that didn’t require strength. She won the basketball and skee ball matches.
It took almost two hours to use up the money on both cards—I was picky about what games to play since I wanted the best return—but eventually, we had an absolute ton of virtual tickets stored on the cards. I followed Mom to the prize station and looked around.
The prize center had everything from game consoles behind the counter to humongous teddy bears hanging from the walls. There were a plethora of smaller prizes as well. The first thing we did was to combine all of the tickets together onto one card and see what the largest prize obtainable was. With a little over 5,000 tickets, I got one of the teddy bears from the wall and some candy with the rest.
Mom insisted I put the bear into the car before we went to eat and bowl. I thought putting the bear on a stool like it was another person would be hilarious, but I was out voted—her votes counted twice.
Lunch was a hamburger and fries. We at in a booth over by the bowling alley. When we finished, we got an open lane and rented bowling shoes. I put mine on and looked for a ball that I could use. While Mom waited for me, she got the lane set up with both of our names.
“Do you want guardrails?” she asked.
“No thanks,” I said. “I think I can do without.”
“Alright. I’m up first.”
Mom stood and bowled her ball—a lime green one—at the pins. She knocked most of them over before waiting for her ball to come back and the fallen pins to be swept away. Her second attempt secured a spare. Then it was my turn.
I had a feeling that bowling would be a challenge for me. The primary issue was the weight of the ball. Even the lightest one was a good fifteen percent of my body-weight. So as to not get knocked off balance rolling it, I used both hands to swing it between my legs and down the lane. The results were… poor. Although I didn’t gutter it, I hadn’t done much better. Just a single pin. The follow-up was better but not stellar—five more.
The rest of the game wasn’t much better for me. I ended up with 63 points while Mom had 148. I didn’t just lose. I was destroyed. Not that I had expected anything less. It was a physical game that required strength and coordination. I was doomed from the beginning.
After a second game—which I also lost by an embarrassing amount—we went home. I got to snuggle with the teddy bear that was bigger than me the entire ride home, so that was a plus. It kept me warm, too, as even though winter was not officially the season yet, it was already cold with the nights dipping into the teens sometimes and the days hovering not much above freezing.
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Now that finals were done, I had plenty of time to work on projects through the end of the year. The most important upcoming event before that was Christmas—and my birthday. Six wasn’t a big milestone or anything, but that was when the countdown ticked over from fourteen years to thirteen and change.
In the week-and-a-half before Christmas, I was able to do more commissions now that I had the time to focus on them. The experience I got from them was enough to offset the reduction due to not having classes every day anymore as well as the lost Crafting Experience and Harvesting Experience from the time of year.
Because my parents were separated, I had two Christmases on the same day. I started where I was—at Mom’s. That morning, I checked the stocking Mom had hung on the outside of my bedroom door overnight. There were a handful of small gifts that were mostly food. I contented myself with eating them while I waited for Mom to wake up. When she did, I followed her downstairs.
In the living room that adjoined the kitchen was a large faux Christmas tree. It was decorated with colored lights and ornaments. Beneath the tree were a small number of presents.
“Go on and open them,” Mom said.
I didn’t need to be told twice! I tore into the wrapping around each gift. Most of the gifts were clothes and workbooks. The only one that wasn’t was a small package that contained a single silver dollar. I looked up at Mom.
“I didn’t know what to get you,” she shrugged.
“Thanks,” I said, rising and giving her a hug.
“You’re welcome!”
After opening gifts, we had breakfast together then it was time to go to Dad’s.
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Dad’s place was a mess with the upcoming move. Still, Dad put a candle into a cupcake and Mom stuck around to sing Happy Birthday to me with Dad. When she left, Dad and I got into his truck and went to his parent’s house for a second Christmas.
The house was decorated with wreaths, flowers, ribbons, and lights. Dad and I climbed the stairs to the front door. I rang the doorbell.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Grandma Rose said when she opened the door for us.
“Hi Ma,” Dad said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
I got a hug before going to explore. We weren’t the first to arrive—that had been my uncle Ben with his newest girlfriend. I couldn’t remember meeting her before—but that was likely on account of just how many women he’d been with over the years. He was doing what I remembered him for: drinking. Didn’t matter the occasion, they were all an excuse to get wasted.
In the living room, my grandparents had a real Christmas tree decorated with wooden and straw ornaments. Instead of the usual electric lights, the tree had many clip-on candles. I knew that was the traditional way, but it was also really dangerous. Why Grandma Rose insisted on doing it that way, I had no idea, but Grandpa Milton always kept a couple of buckets on hand in case anything got too far out of hand. Beneath the tree were many presents in all shapes, sizes, and colors of wrapping paper.
I ended up in the kitchen where Grandma Rose was finishing up Christmas dinner. Dad helped with the heavy things while I put out the silverware, napkins, and other such things. Grandpa Milton busied himself getting a fire going in the dining room’s fireplace.
When the six of us sat to eat, the table was filled with trays of delicious food. Grandma Rose lit a couple candles and led us in saying grace. Then it was time to eat. I started with the deviled eggs. Some salad, carrots, ham, and mashed potatoes followed. In no time at all, I felt like a stuffed turkey.
After cleaning up from dinner, it was finally time to open gifts. Each person got to open a gift before the next person opened theirs. It went round in a circle until all gifts were opened. I didn’t get anything special—some toys that six-year-old me would have loved but that my adult self would never use—but I pretended to be happy with them. There was no sense in making my grandparents sad. They didn’t know my circumstances.
We had dessert and sang some carols before Dad and I excused ourselves and returned home. Moving day was only two days away and there were some last-minute preparations that needed doing.
