Jill's Dice

The name of the scholar.We seek every opportunity to cause death, which is to please our goddess.If someone shows reluctance or cowardice, Goddess Rose will bring her wrath down on that person, and his entire family will bear the shame. "Leo's slender fingers slowly held the draft beer glass. His palm was pressed against the cold glass, and the sticky touch was like the blood that once wet his palm. He recalled those who died under his knife again. The dead soul found that he still couldn't keep calm. He said with resentment: "Mzoberranzan's self-enclosed and endless internal strife will lead to its demise, and I don't want to be buried with it. "

His hand was touched lightly.

He looks up.Gibson looked at him calmly.Leo knew Gibson couldn't understand every word he said, but he was there, listening.

"You've left the underworld, don't let it hold your soul anymore," Gibson looked into the purple eyes hidden under the hood, "you're free, and before long, you'll be enjoying it. And With your martial skills, your name may spread farther than Eric the Red Axe. Drow Elf Leo."

A long sword slammed down on the round table, almost shattering the table.The two stood up at the same time and put their hands on the weapons at their waists.The sword's owner, a redheaded, stocky savage, grinned at them, showing his yellow-spotted incisors.

"Sorry, I overheard all your conversations." The Savage pulled out his chair and sat down.His boulder-like figure nearly crushed the chair.He picked up Leo's glass and drank the beer in one gulp.Under Leo's cloak, the dagger was out of its sheath.

"We don't know you," said Gibson dryly.He'd met quite a few of them, and he was waiting for his blackmail price, and Gibson didn't mind a fight if necessary.

"Why don't you sit down and talk?" The savage used deliberately polite words, which contrasted comically with his savage fur attire. "Sit down, sit down." He pressed his hands down.

"You'd better explain your purpose in the next sentence, or my dagger will pierce your chest." Leo said.

"It's a pity, I thought we could communicate in a more civilized way—" The cold light of Leo's dagger flashed in front of the barbarian's eyes, "—Okay! Okay!" The barbarian raised his tone, "I heard You're going to Defiance Bay, and I'm thinking we might be able to go together. I'm a fighter, and I can help you a lot. You're missing that kind of role, aren't you? Think about it, if you're going to go to Black Meadow, a fighter It is essential to you."

"We don't need traveling companions," Leo said bluntly.

The Savage grinned at Leo, a treacherous look flashing across his face. "Drow alone on the surface world? It's a good subject for bards, but not all of them are as friendly as your companions. Think about it, if I call out your identity here, what happens?"

Leo stared at him as if it belonged to a python ready to go. "We can compare as much as possible, whether my dagger is faster or your tongue is faster."

**

"Passy, ​​this is Andrew; Andrew, this is Persy." Jill said.

"We just met this Wednesday, you don't need to introduce us." Patsy held out his hand to Andrew. "Are you OK?"

"Very well, thank you." Andrew shook hands firmly.

"You and Jill are classmates?" Patsy asked.

"I'm an exchange student and I took the same class as Jill."

Patsy nodded. "Anyway, you are welcome to join our community, and I look forward to meeting you next Wednesday, when we will open a new map called Scarlet Monastery. In addition, we need to give our team a name. Do you think Dragonlance Expedition How's the team?"

"Persy, we all know your character is Tanis," Jill interrupted. "Isn't that enough? As for the squad names—nobody cares about that."

"You're wrong about Gibson," Passy said sternly. "It makes us feel more involved."

"Maybe." Jill pouted, but didn't argue with him again.No one can say that about Patsy.And Percy's character, Tanis the Barbarian, has an unusually high Charisma score, so he has a high chance of succeeding in the Persuasion check.Jill felt that Tanis had won with his tongue rather than his weapon.

"I'll be joining you on your adventure next week," Patsy waved at them. "I hope you enjoyed the party. I've got to find my girlfriend."

"Goodbye." Andrew smiled and watched him leave.

**

The cassette game console area is in the innermost corner.There were five or six people standing there, watching the game progress of the two players on the sofa.On the old-fashioned box TV is a rough 8-bit game screen, which is the first generation of "Metroid" (Note [-]).Jill asked Andrew if he had played the game, and Andrew said he had, but now his Nintendo console has been sent to the recycling bin by his mother, and even the game cassettes have been buried in the basement.

Jill patted one of the players on the shoulder, bowed his head and said something to him.The two gave up their seats and handed the handle to Jill and Andrew.Another gave Andrew a thumbs up and wished them luck.

They sat down on the leather sofa, leaning comfortably against the soft leather layers.The handle is old and the keys are stiff.They pick up where the two players left off.They occasionally make each other laugh by saying a few words about difficult game mechanics. After 5 minutes, Jill had to admit that Andrew's technique was better.His character has died three times, but Andrew is still using his first life.This may be because Jill has been peeking at Andrew from the corner of his eye, so he was distracted.The fluorescent light of the TV flickered, like a signal from a lighthouse in the dark, dancing in Andrew's eyes.He stared at the TV screen intently, and there was a certain innocence of a child in that concentration.Does he have a girlfriend?Jill can't help thinking, or does he have a boyfriend?

Andrew turned his head suddenly, and Jill's gaze was caught by Andrew's gaze before he could retract in time.Jill could have taken it in stride, but for some reason, he looked away from Andrew in embarrassment.He pretended to be concentrating on playing the game, but his heart beat faster and faster.His cheeks became hot, but fortunately the dim light concealed his abnormality.He was calm and expressionless.But Andrew still looked at him, as if pondering Jill's inner thoughts.After a few seconds, Andrew turned his head and returned his attention to the game.

Jill felt relieved all of a sudden.But at the same time, he found that as Andrew's gaze disappeared, it seemed that a tiny fragment was peeled off from his heart and left.The pad of his thumb slowly stroked the round button of the handle.In the game screen, his Mech Warrior is accepting the countdown to resurrection.

The author has something to say: Note [-]: Tanis, one of the characters in the Dragonlance novels.

Note 1988: Metroid, a video game series launched by Nintendo in [-], was originally released on the red and white machine platform.

☆, ten

The midnight wind is warm.

They sat on stone chairs outside St. Mary's Church, surrounded by silent tombs and steles.The neon lights of the bar stay a few feet away, making it impossible to step into the silent darkness.

They feel each other's presence.

Andrew raised his head and looked through the silhouettes of the branches for the stars not buried by the night.For a moment, he thought he was sitting on the deck of some space ship, looking at the galaxy outside the porthole.He put his arms on the back of the stone chair and wrapped his arms around Jill.

An indefinable hug.

Jill's head drooped wearily and his eyes could barely keep open.A can of soda hangs down in his hand, and he can barely hold it.In a trance, he heard Andrew calling him and asking if he was asleep.Jill responded dreamily: I am still awake, thank you Andrew, thank you for being with me.He bowed his head.Weary gently disarms him and lets him open up.He covered his cheeks with one hand and closed his sleepy eyes.His whispers seemed to be addressed only to himself - I knew parties weren't such scary things, but I couldn't contain my fear.I'm afraid of making eye contact because I'm worried about being judged, and the thought of being judged just makes me more clumsy.But today because of you, I forgot to be afraid of this, so I want to thank you.

The root of the problem is that our culture encourages socializing, and those fake smiles just make me sick, why do I have to pretend to be happy, even if I don't feel happy inside?

Sometimes, I think about my runaway days in Bristol.I lived in an abandoned house with a bunch of homeless people trying to keep things comfortable.It wasn't an experience to brag about, but I miss those genuine people.At least I don't have to hold a cocktail and talk to people about things that don't interest me at all.I feel free to express fear and anger without caring what other people think.Of course, it also had to do with me being a teenager.As I grew older, I gradually learned how to hide these emotions, but the confusion and weakness remained in me.

I think my aversion to social situations is essentially my loathing for myself, my denial of self-worth.Salinger doesn't tell us Holden's story as he grows up, but I think he's most likely to be something he doesn't want to be.They complain about unsatisfactory things, but they can't change everything, so in cursing and accepting, they gradually become bitter women and dumb.You know, people grow up, and some feelings of despair and anger are reserved for the young.

In the dark Andrew put his arms around Jill.

Thank you, thank you for telling me all this.Andrew said.He wrapped his other arm around Jill, letting Jill lean against his shoulder.The strange thing is that even though Andrew has Jill in his arms at this time, he feels that Jill is standing on a sea cliff, while he is standing far away, watching the strong wind almost pulling Jill to the point of falling, but he Can never reach that lonely reef.

Jill closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of Andrew's neck like oxygen.Maybe Jill would be embarrassed tomorrow when he recalled this conversation, but right now, the alcohol was burning his mind and distorting his sense of reality.He said hoarsely, have you ever been in a moment where words can never quite express what you mean.From the very first sentence you speak, you are moving away from the truth.All attempts to restore reality will eventually fail.One can never really understand another, but all human beings have to make such an attempt.because of U.S……

Jill's voice trailed off until he was taken over by sleepiness.

Andrew put his cheek against Jill's hair.His lips touched Jill's temple lightly, like a butterfly flying lightly to the petals wet with tears.

He finished that sentence for Jill.

Because we - all human beings - long to be understood by another human being, and then to be loved.

**

The church gardener woke them up.

They looked around blankly, unable to understand how they got here for a moment.After a while, the memories of last night flooded into my mind, connecting all the pictures together.Jill propped her forehead and thanked the old man hoarsely.

The sky is shining, but the streets are deserted.Jill's dormitory was nearby, so they decided to have breakfast there first.

Today is Saturday, and Patrick is not in the dormitory unsurprisingly.Andrew looked at Jill's picture postcards plastered all over the wall.From Brighton in the south to Glasgow in the north, the miniature landscape of the whole of Britain is presented in it.

"I didn't know you liked traveling," Andrew said.Pointing to the postcard with the Palace of Westminster on it, he said: "I've always wanted to go to London. That's one of the things on my life wish list. This Christmas I can make it happen."

Jill spat out the mouthwash. "You might be disappointed if you go."

"why?"

"London has changed a lot. I went there once when I was a kid, but it's no longer what I remember. I don't recognize the city anymore." Jill wiped the water stains off her face with a towel, "Come on, I Washed up. The black one for toothpaste. Do you need shaving cream?"

"Yes, thank you." Andrew walked into the bathroom.They stood side by side in front of the sink, and the small place suddenly seemed very crowded.Their eyes met in the mirror, and Jill looked away. "Use this towel. I'll go to the kitchen to prepare breakfast first. If you want, you can take a shower or something." He said, and opened the door of the dormitory room.

Andrew stared at himself in the mirror.His hair was disheveled, hanging loosely from his forehead, and his eyes were puffy and dark.He scooped up a handful of cold water and raked his hair back.Jill didn't know that Andrew's grooming last night was for him.But after one night, the pumpkin carriage will disappear, leaving only Cinderella's dress on Andrew.Andrew took off his biker jacket, which smelled of e-cigarettes and alcohol.He sniffed his armpits and frowned.God, he smells like he's gone for a spin on some camping barbecue night.

He took a shower and changed into Jill's white T-shirt.Jill was thinner than he was, so even though the white T-shirt was the loosest size Andrew could find, it held tight against his body.

Andrew walked into the kitchen, and Jill was frying something on the stove. Without looking back, he asked, "Do you want baked beans or sausage? Oatmeal or cornflakes?"

"Sausage and oatmeal, thanks, I don't want to stop farting after eating beans." Andrew walked over to Jill and saw that he was frying eggs. "Do you need any help?"

"The water is already boiling. It would be great if you could help me make two cups of breakfast tea. The tea bags are in the first drawer." After Jill finished speaking, he realized that Andrew was wearing his T-shirt .The T-shirt had a totem-like Old Norse pattern printed on it, but Andrew's large chest muscles stretched the print a little.

Jill's Adam's apple slipped.He took the eggs out of the pan and put them on a plate. "How does it feel?"

"It felt like I'd been wrestling with a bull all night. It threw me off my back and kicked me in the head hard." Andrew handed Jill the mug, and Jill took it, the tea bag soaked in boiling water Gotta be bloated.He lifted the tea bag and shook it up and down in the water, the color of the water gradually darkened.He leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of hot tea.The tea soothed his parched throat. "I feel the same as you," he looked at Andrew, "I feel like I went to a heavy metal show, and my neck hurts so bad I can't straighten up."

Andrew laughed, "But last night was really good. Did you enjoy the party?"

"Not bad," Jill shrugged, "but I won't go there again. Some experiences only need to be experienced once."

"How much do you remember about last night?" Andrew stroked the rim of the mug with his thumb.

Jill braced her forehead. "Ugh, can't remember a lot, I just remember us playing Metroid, beer pong, and I got [-] beers by Passy... Somebody was playing Radiohead, who else am I crazy about Laughing out loud..."

"Do you remember how we ran to the pews in the church?" Andrew asked.

"All I know is that I threw up, and then we rested in a chair, and we ended up spending the night there," Jill put down his glass, "I just hope this hangover goes away, anyway." Jill opened The cabinet next to Andrew, Andrew stepped back a little to make room for him.After hesitating for a moment, Andrew asked, "Jill, do you want to go to London before Christmas?"

Jill stops grabbing cereal. "You want me to accompany you to London?"

"No, it's fine if you don't have time." Andrew gave up the plan.He didn't know why he was asking Jill that question.

"I don't mind," Jill took off the cereal box and shook the cereal into a bowl, "Our classes end the week before Christmas anyway, I don't mind going to London for a few days, you need a local guide too, no ?"

Andrew resisted the urge to hug Jill.He reached out, put his palm on Jill's shoulder, and patted it lightly. "Thank you. You never say no to my requests, but I don't know what I can do to help you."

"I would really appreciate it if you could help me get the sausage out of the fridge and into the oven." Jill poured the milk into the cereal bowl and put the bowl in the microwave.The microwave beeped, and the cereal bowl inside began to spin.Strangely, it was Jill who was hungover, but Andrew felt more tired than him.After the conversation last night, he wanted to find an opportunity for Jill to hear his reply, but he couldn't find a suitable opportunity to speak, or in other words, facing Jill like this, Andrew was unwilling to mention everything related to that fragile night .

He opened the refrigerator and wandered his eyes.

"Which floor is the sausage, quartermaster?"

**

They stayed together all Saturday.

In the morning, they played Battle Cube Theater for a few hours, and then went to a Thai restaurant for lunch.Jill doesn't like the sour taste of Tom Yum Kung, but Andrew likes its clever balance of sour and spicy.

After dinner, they took a walk in the park.The wild ducks came round and scrambled for the crumbs they scattered.The sun is warm, like a winter quilt.Jill plugged in the earphones and distributed the other ear wire to Andrew.Speech Debelle's calm narration flowed from the earphones.Jill leaned against the corner of the bench, almost hypnotized by the songstress's unwavering voice.

Andrew threw out the last handful of breadcrumbs and wiped his hands on the top of his trousers.A pair of swans slid past, leaving V-shaped ripples on the lake that slowly spread outward.He looked away and looked at Jill quietly.

Jill closed her eyes slightly, her expression soft.Andrew stretched out his hand involuntarily, and brushed away the broken hair on Jill's forehead, revealing his smooth forehead.

He looked like a child.

Jill slowly opened his eyes.His eyes lost focus for a moment.His gaze retracted from the island in the middle of the lake in the distance, and moved to Andrew's face. He saw his reflection in Andrew's pupils.

"You look like you're about to kiss me," Jill said hoarsely.

Andrew's palm slowly moved down, covering Jill's eyes.He turned and kissed Jill on the eyes through the back of his hand.

Andrew suddenly felt that his palm was a little wet, and quickly moved it away.Jill hugged Andrew's waist violently, preventing Andrew from seeing her tears.Jill's chin rests on Andrew's shoulder, and the tip of her nose smells of her own coconut shampoo.He hugged him even tighter, as if he wanted to embed Andrew in his body, and his nails grabbed Andrew's T-shirt and wrinkled it.

At this moment Andrew understood.

"You remember everything," he said.

Jill ran her other hand through Andrew's hair, leaning his head against her neck.Andrew returned his hug.

They embraced each other, as if they were taking the last bit of nutrients from each other.People walking, people walking their dogs, people pushing strollers, people walking by with children pass them by, casting surprised glances at them.Ducks and pigeons were pecking at the crumbs of bread at their feet, like spectators at a pantomime.Like his character, Jill's tears are also silent.But the trembling words he uttered betrayed his vulnerability.

"We are all the same, we can understand each other's loneliness..." Jill whispered intermittently in Andrew's ear, "This is really a weird planet, isn't it? We pass by others every day, but we can't understand Struggle and pain in other people's lives... But at least we understand each other, which is a lucky thing. I think it's because I've been out in the cold for so long that I want a hug so much..."

Andrew rubbed the tip of his nose against Jill's hair roots. "The strange thing is, I seem to see my shadow in you too."

Jill kissed Andrew's neck.His kisses were wet with tears.

he murmured, I'm one lucky soul...

**

Gibson woke up from the dream.

The surrounding area was extremely silent, only the echo of insects chirping in the summer night.The bonfire danced before his eyes.Tanis lay there with his back to him, snoring.

He barely stood up, his head was dazed.He raised his head, and the layers of canopy above his head covered the starry night sky of Eola Continent.The drow sat on a tree, leaning against the trunk, one leg curled across his chest, the other dangling from the treetops.Seeing the dwarf awake, he thought he had something urgent to do, so he jumped down from the branch.

"What's wrong?" Leo asked.

"Nothing," Gibson shook his head in a trance, "it was just a dream."

"What dream?" asked the elf, not very interested.

"I dreamed that I was a student and went to school with you. It was a strange place, with no magic or martial arts." Gibson stared at the darkness in the dense forest, struggling to recall the details of the dream. "I was alone, and so were you, but in the end we became friends, as we are now, so we don't feel alone or scared of being alone in the dark."

"Well, maybe." The elf thought for a moment, not knowing how to respond to the dwarf's dream, so he said, "Anyway, I'm glad you're awake, and it's time for the changing of the guard."

Gibson sat cross-legged on the felt.He took out the dagger from his waist, threw the dagger from his left hand to his right, and threw it back again.Leo snuggled into the sleeping bag and muttered good night.

Gibson stared at the jumping bonfire, trying to see the ghostly shadow in the firelight.Through the firelight we can see our own life in another world.The master of the Forge had told him so.The bonfire has seldom awakened his fear of the fire in his underground home, but more curiosity and contemplation.Flames fluttered in his pupils, as if something was being forged in them.

He silently recalled that dream, as if looking back on another person's life.

☆, postscript

It is really hypocritical to write an epilogue to a novel of less than [-] words, but I have something to say about "Jill's Dice", readers don't need to pay attention, and you can just skip it.

70.00% of the scene descriptions in "Dice" are real, that is, they are scenes that I personally experienced or witnessed.A small part, about parties and club gatherings, is a scene I imagined.

I have been studying in the UK for half a year, and loneliness used to be the most unbearable emotion for me, but now I can call it brothers and even joke about it occasionally.The cultural barrier is certainly one aspect, but my own unsociable personality is magnified in a foreign environment.I don't want to attribute all the causes of my loneliness to cultural differences/difficulty fitting in with locals/language barriers, a large part of it is my own.But is this really the problem?

I split my shadow into two, Jill and Andrew.Their conversations are like hand-to-hand wrestling, their embrace is like my clasped hands (pray to some god who can hear my voice), their love is my self-pity.But more, I put myself in the role of Jill, and I found the comfort of being with (Andrew) in my writing.When I left the text I was alone again.

Originally about their story, I planned to write it until Christmas, and I even envisioned the two kissing in front of the dark penguin enclosure of the London Aquarium.I imagined Jill's backstory - a kid from StokesCroft, Bristol, who had a street culture childhood, black friends, a brother who was a skateboarder and was sent to a nursing home for schizoaffective disorder - anyway , putting every "cool" label I can think of on him.In comparison, Andrew's setting is somewhat weak.After all, I have never been to the United States, and I cannot understand the environment in which he grew up.Such as his family's hunting tradition, but it is also a story I heard when communicating with Americans.The love between two people is better understood as two lonely people licking each other—an image that is too poetic and literary to appear in real life.

The monologues of lonely people, the fear of social situations, but a reflection of my heart.The social environment in the UK, the cocktail scene always makes me sweat on my brow and want to escape.True, I don't understand their language, and I have a completely different appearance from theirs, but essentially, it's my fear of crowds.I can't get over it and don't know how to get over it.And sometimes, I don't feel like it's a problem.There's no shame in admitting you're lonely, there's no shame in trying to pretend you're not.

Thank you for being here.My novel has no sex scene, no sugar that is so sweet that it is too sweet. In essence, it is not written for readers, but for myself.Stephen King once divided novels into two categories: novels written for oneself become classic literature, and novels written for readers become genre literature.But I'm here to deny his opinion.A novel written for oneself is not written for readers.Because human beings are emotionally connected, writing about one's own loneliness is not writing about another person's loneliness.

Heisenberg