Ares

Chapter IV

Although I first meant it as a joke, I am starting to reconsider getting a new keyboard after drawing our fourth match.

During the seconds between rounds, I tried to find the reason why some of the times I would move farther than normal. My search was in vain, for I could not point out what was exactly affecting the motion of the characters I played.

Fortunately, I could adapt to this problem eventually. We won all our rounds as defendants, earning our first point in the second half of this season.

“We played well those last rounds”, Liam states before letting out a heavy sigh.

It has been stressful days for everyone. Not only because our constant losses, but also because everything goes well during our practices. Yes, we lose every once in a while, but the outcomes don’t usually depend on multiple mistakes we make — especially my mistakes.

Marcus chuckles. “It seems like Ares is slowly coming back.”

“I’m sorry guys, I’ve been having troubles with my set up today”, I explain, knowing well that there should not be an excuse for my low numbers on today’s final scoreboard.

“We understand the situation and know that this will only be a hiccup”, Atem says happily, his warm voice relaxing my tense muscles slightly.

“Thank you.”

Our captain, Oskar, reminds us about the schedule for practicing and repeats what Reed said in his own words, leaving the message clearer than water. We will get through this together.

This consumes the last bit of worry left in my mind. Even though I do have to figure out if there is a problem with my keyboard or not, knowing that I am not alone during these hard days calms me down.

Since social media is still my enemy, I exit the practice room in silence and go inside my room to leave my phone charging on the bedside table. Then, I walk downstairs to find Reed in the kitchen. To my surprise, Atem is not here. Instead I bump into Marcus, who is leaning against the counter that divides the kitchen from the living room, reading something on his phone’s screen.

“No stream?” I ask while peeking over his shoulder.

Although he is concentrated on the device between his hands, he is not startled at all by my sudden appearance. “No. I don’t feel like playing more Siege tonight”, he explains before locking his phone and finally looking back at me. “What about you?”

“I just wanted to ask someone about the troubles I’ve been having with my keyboard.” I sit down on the empty tall chair next to him. Marcus nods slightly, encouraging me to continue. “It’s weird, but I feel like the motion of my characters is not synchronized with the amount of time I keep one key pressed.”

He furrows his eyebrows. This is something that has never happened to him and that he has never heard of.

“You should try getting a new one”, he concludes without putting much thought into it.

I purse my lips together, considering taking his advice and forget about other possibilities – at least until I test the new equipment.

“I will. Tomorrow probably.”

It is until Marcus notices the feelings behind my words that he puts A and B together. “Is that why you’ve been struggling during out last matches?” Concern is clear in his voice. He probably thought this was just the aftermath of losing the tournament in Montreal.

“I think so, yeah.” I nod, looking away from him. I am confident that there was something off during the match we tied but, for some reason, I feel like I’m just making up excuses for my terrible plays.

“I must have a spare keyboard somewhere. You can try it out tomorrow, if you’d like”, he offers, putting his phone gently on the counter and standing straight.

“That would be great, thank you.”

Marcus smiles back at me with content clear in his eyes. “If I can help you in any other way, let me know.”

I nod slightly, feeling relieved again by the constant support I am receiving. “Thank you”, I repeat, truly meaning the words every time they leave my mouth.

“No problem, Kathlyn. Now, I have to find that keyboard and paint my hair of a different color.” Marcus takes a lock of his white hair between his index and middle finger. “Red, maybe?”

I chuckle at his suggestion. He likes trying out different hairstyles, which is part of the reason he stands out from the rest of players. If you spot a bright green-haired man in a Besiege of combat  tournament, that’s Marcus Holland.

“Sure”, I say after failing at the task of finding a ridiculous color he has not previously used for his hair.

He winks at me before turning around with his cellphone in hand. “I’ll give you the keyboard as soon as I find it.”

I smile back at him. “Just don’t stain it with hair dye.”

“It would look nice though”, he complains jokingly before waving goodbye and continuing his way upstairs.

After letting out a heavy sigh, I get up from the metal chair. I am guessing no one will come downstairs to have a talk, therefore I decide to go back to my room right after taking a can of soda from the fridge.

Once inside my four walls, I sit by the small desk that is full of collectible figures and notebooks. The soda I was holding soon rests on the wooden surface. I should make the most of the situation by cleaning and organizing my set up.

I look for a clean cloth in my belongings. Then, I walk to the scrim room on the same floor. Once I am in front of my computer, I take the objects over my desk one by one, placing them carefully either on my chair or on the floor.

I spend the most time on figuring out which cable goes where and on making sure they do not get tangled up again. Fortunately, I finish this task without any trouble.

A soft knock at the door interrupts me right when I have started putting everything back on the desk. Although we all have free access to this room, we usually knock on the door in case someone is doing a live broadcast.

“Come in”, I say just loud enough for the person on the hallway to hear while taking long locks of my hair off my face.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt” Marcus cuts the sentence when noticing the scattered objects on the floor, smiling at the messy scene. “Do you want help?”

I shake my head slightly while adjusting my PC’s monitor. “I would have appreciated your assistance like an hour ago”, I state with a grin.

“I needed a helping hand too. I almost forget about this while looking for the keyboard”, he admits while pointing at his recently washed hair.

His confession makes feel a little bad, but the smile on his face assures me that it is not my fault in any way.

 “I would help you, if you dyed your hair purple”, I say without meaning the condition. I would help him no matter what – even if he decided to shave his head.

“I did look good in purple”, he says with a smirk. “Anyways, here you have it.”

I take the black keyboard he is handing me and place it on the almost empty desk. “Thank you. I’ll give it back as soon as I get a new one.”

Marcus rejects the offer, “You can keep it for as long as you want. I have been considering getting a new one too.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.” He closes the door behind him, letting me focus on organizing my belongings back on the desk.

Opposite to my expectations, tomorrow I will be able to find out if it is really my keyboard what has brought me trouble in the past few days.

I will test Marcus’ keyboard and mine alternately in different games before jumping into conclusions. Nonetheless, I hope my suspicions are correct and this has nothing to do with my inability to play decently since that night in Montreal.