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  1. #1
    RadioNationale's Avatar Member
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    Jun 2019
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    A Coign of Vantage
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    A Day in the Life of Hank, professional NPC on the Division 2

    Hank felt resplendent in his BTSU armoured suit.

    It was difficult not to feel a sense of pride as he basked in the adoring gaze of the junior actors.

    Hank had reached the top of his game, and it was going to be perfect.

    The helmet felt a bit restrictive compared to the Hyena outfit he used to wear, but that was nearly two years ago when Hank first signed on as an NPC for The Division 2.

    The brochure promised regular daily work as a minor unnamed character, with most of the day spent wandering the streets of a fictionalised Washington DC carrying boxes.

    Paying visitors to the attraction known only as 'agents' would occasionally turn up. It was Hanks job along with his colleagues to give these 'agents' something to do. That usually involved him being set on fire, shot in head, blown up, and shredded by grenades. Sometimes, all at the same time.

    At the end of his shift, he and his buddies would share their bloody and usually fatal encounters over a beer in the canteen. Life was dull, but it was regular pay.

    The only break to this routine happened every Tuesday for about 3 hours, when a team of people known as 'Devs' would turn off all the lights and talk in hushed tones about 'client updates' and 'server patches'. It all sounded very important.

    It wasn't long till he graduated to a Hyena boss with a regular spot at the American History Museum. Not only was he taking out 'agents' with his grossly overpowered LMG and invincible armour, he also had fun staging fights with some of the minor performers jobbing as True Sons.

    That was until yesterday.

    Sudden illness had led to an opening in the random boss team, and they needed someone with boss experience to play one of the most coveted roles of all; 'named boss'.

    Hank volunteered immediately. In a matter of hours, he had been fitted for a suit and was trying out the mini-gun for size. He'd noticed some strange red bits on the suit, but with little time for training, he let it pass.

    Morning came. Hank strode purposely out into the park near the Ellipse Fuel Depot to see a hapless 'agent' exploring alone. This was his great moment in the limelight.

    The mini-gun purred continuously, churning out brass cases like confetti. Forget the SMG with sniper rifle range and deadly accuracy that Hank used to have, this was true firepower.

    The 'agent' dove for cover and hid. This encounter was going to be short and bloody.

    Without warning, another 'agent' appeared behind Hank, looking strangely static and facing the wrong way. Hank turned round and pressed the fire button again. No matter, he thought. This 'agent' is going down too.

    There was a loud bang and then silence. The mini-gun had stopped and the red plate on the back was gone.

    'No good, no good!' cried Hank. How was this happening? Nobody told him the mini-gun could jam, yet the 'agent' had known exactly what to do. He cursed under his breath. Everything had been done in a rush, and he really should have asked about that red panel. The post of named boss needed filling, and there just hadn't been enough time.

    His supervisor was sympathetic afterwards, as Hank was painfully extricated from the wreckage of his armoured suit.

    'Tough break, Hank,' he said smoothly. 'The game is heavily stacked against the agents by design, but not everyone here is cut out for BTSU work, especially for the more heroic breed of agent.' The supervisor flipped over a page on his clipboard and peered closely. 'How do you fancy being a True Sons rusher for a change? It's easy work, run screaming towards the agents, die, wait to be re-spawned, then do it all over again.'

    Hank rubbed his bruised head and nodded dejectedly. 'Sure, sounds like easy money to me.'
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  2. #2
    Lol! Nice read!
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