Here's a Don't Hate the Player drabble just for you, because I needed to get this idea out of my head. I was looking at the people in the background during game-Artie's speech and I thought, wait…is that Myka? Which then inspired this fic, so for my purposes we are saying that was, in fact, Myka. This focuses on Pete's thoughts again (surprise, surprise) because I feel comfortable taking wild guesses at whatever it is that goes on in his brain. A special shout-out to Belladonna Novocaine, because her reviews and support for my incessant Pete/Myka shipping always makes me smile. Hope you enjoy!
I own nothing.
Fortress 13. What a joke. Artie was going to blow a gasket when he heard about this…not that the game was going to ever be distributed commercially. Even if it did, Pete doubted that anyone would ever guess at the reality that the medieval decor worked so hard to hide. The reality was, in a lot of ways, more preposterous than the game.
He supposed it might have been more amusing if Fargo had gotten any of it right. After seeing Artie, he kept searching for familiar faces in the game. But each one of them was portrayed incorrectly. Leena was definitely wrong, with her gentle, monotonous voice. Princess Claudia was just creepy. And Pete was a little insulted that he didn't even appear anywhere in the game (although after he saw the portrayal of the others he started to think that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing).
But the worst to see, out of all of them, was Myka. Her doppelganger was a motionless, mute, unmovable one that he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Built to blend in with the rest, her face was shrouded by a white cloth and a lack of expression. It was just so…wrong.
She would have been better as the princess, beautiful and unreachable. He knew there were parts of her she kept locked up; hidden behind walls she had made for herself. These parts, he also knew, were worth saving. They were worth risking peril and (in some cases) bodily harm. In fact, it was those walls that he had worked tirelessly on breaking down ever since they met.
He could see her as a guardian of the Fortress, sworn to protect it. To deter anyone or thing that jeopardized the safety of the Fortress. She was, after all, a fierce protector of those that she loved, ready to take on anything and everything that threatened them. And she had been forged into a protector out of both necessity and her occupation.
She could have been a guide, someone who helped them navigate the game world and aided them with finding the right path. At the Warehouse, several of the cases had reached a turning point because she had found the evidence that had pointed the right way. But more than just that, he often relied on her to be his moral compass. He counted on her to keep him going in the right direction.
Maybe even she could have been used as a distraction. Heaven knows he's found her distracting more than enough. Her scent, the way her long hair falls over her shoulders, and her voice. The laughter that came now more often from her lips was intoxicating. That smile that lit up her eyes was lovely. Not to mention the way she looks when the odd case calls for her to wear something a little more…provocative. Her beauty was distracting.
Even with all of the possibilities that he had thought of, it was clear that when she finally entered the game that this was exactly what she should be. And his musings were confirmed; Fargo could have done so much better when he created virtual Myka.
Pete couldn't really blame him though. No one (virtual copy or otherwise) could every come close to being Myka. And he couldn't think of anyone he wanted by his side more than her.
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