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Pulling out his netherite sword, Skeppy moves forward to deal a sweeping attack to the zombie, effectively leaving it for dead as it flops over onto the ground from its fatal wounds.
"Don't think that undead'll be rising again," Skeppy mutters.
He quickly leaves the body after picking some drops. Eating some rotten flesh (while also glad that virtual reality doesn't affect taste or smell), he quickly moves through the dark oak forest, jumping over small cave entrances effortlessly.
After a particularly far jump, Skeppy winces as he lands on the ground. "I should really be more careful..." he mutters, as he finds his way along a dirt path.
Thirty seconds later, he's standing in front of a large quartz house. He quickly sprints to the door.
"Bad!" he yells. "I'm home!"
He gets a strained response from inside. "Okay, come in, and stop yelling!"
Skeppy enters the house, closing the door behind him. Bad is inside, looking through some chests. Skeppy saunters in and peers inside.
"Hello, 'Geppy," Bad mutters, reaching up a hand to give his friend an awkward side-hug despite his preoccupation with organizing the chest.
"Something wrong?"
"No, why would anything be wrong?"
Skeppy just looks at Bad.
Bad glances at him.
"... Okay, well, I may have been thinking about something."
"Yeah?" Skeppy eats a cooked porkchop from his bag. "What's that?"
Bad pauses, thinking of a way to put it. "Do you ever think what we're doing is... messed up?"
Skeppy gives him a look. "Playing... a video game?"
"Ugh, you muffinhead," Bad grumbles, his voice falling into an almost-growl. "That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" Skeppy sinks into the makeshift couch in their living room. "Gotta be more specific, Bad."
"This is just another reality, isn't it?"
Skeppy pauses to think about that.
Virtual reality has gotten much better in recent years - breakthrough in technology led to the creation of games where you could pretty much physically be present in video games. It's no surprise that a game like Minecraft was one of the first to be added to virtual reality.
And it feels... real.
Minecraft has always felt like a life simulation game, at least the survival aspect of it. Before, it was on a screen, obviously fake. You didn't feel damage before, you didn't feel yourself falling before, and you certainly didn't feel yourself burning alive after a misplaced step.
And well, virtual reality has the word reality in it.
Skeppy glances up.
Bad's holding his cup -- well, bottle, really -- and looking down at the ground. He seems lost in thought as he absentmindedly taps his fingers on the side of his cup.
They're not quite used to this, just how real it feels. Skeppy and BadBoyHalo still haven't met up in person, in real life, in reality. This is just a cheap version of reality. Sure, Bad can hug him and kiss him on the cheek and do all of these things that they could technically do in real life together.
But it's like a cheap copy that you get as a hand-me-down -- not a worthy substitute.
"What brought this on all of a sudden?" Skeppy cracks a grin.
Bad huffs a little.
"Minecraft was so simple back then. Your mouse, your keyboard, a couple of clicks. Now, it's structurally so different. And now, things that seemed simple before seem so... difficult."
"Difficult, how?"
Bad frowns.
"I got involved with a scuffle the other day. With Quackity."
Skeppy raises a brow.
"I killed him."
"Seems normal enough."
"Sure, until I could physically see the way his face --- Oh, Skeppy," Bad sighs, a slight tilt in his voice telling Skeppy that he's being very, very serious. "His face contorted in pain. And there's no blood, and he respawned, of course, but it---"
"Left a bad taste in your mouth?"
"Yeah. I-- I don't know how I feel about this. It's not real, right? So I shouldn't feel bad?"
Skeppy opens his mouth.
Then he closes it.
"I just -- " Bad continues. "It's fiction. Everything's fiction. The story here, on this server, in this world? It's fiction. But every time I raise my sword, I do it with my hands, not a simple press of a keyboard button." Bad shakes his head. "I slice them open. I cause wounds. And there's some element of pain involved, and it's too -- too realistic. I don't like this. I love Minecraft, but -- I do. I don't. I --"
"You feel like this isn't the Minecraft you know anymore."
Bad furrows his brows.
"You're scared that it's so easy to wound someone in the game, that's so closely linked to reality that you're afraid that it'll be that easy for you to hurt someone in real life." Skeppy lets the words spill out of his mouth. "You're -- you're not sure what this says about you as a person."
Bad licks his lips.
Then he nods once.
Skeppy lets out a small sigh. "Bad. I promise you this is just a video game and it's not that deep. It's just fiction. This isn't real. None of this is real. As long as you can make that determination between reality and fiction, then who cares what you do in a fictional context?"
"But---"
"Killing someone isn't that bad. I got punched the other day by Vurb and honestly it was more of a numbing pain than anything." Quackity was probably just shocked, right?
"I guess," Bad shrugs. "It's just -- I've been thinking about it. Maybe a little bit too hard."
"It's just a video game. Unless you're thinking this is going to be Sword Art Online, or something, and we're going to be stuck here in hardcore mode or something."
Bad snorts. "No, no, not that."
"Then it's just fiction. Trust me, I've been killed--"
"What!?"
"And honestly, it doesn't really feel like anything. It's like a phantom pain that goes away really quickly."
"Oh my goodness, you muffinhead," Bad grumbles.
Skeppy taps his fingers on his knee. "Either way, this is like the whole 'playing video games equals kids being more violent' argument. Like there's no proof and there's no correlation. You murdering someone in a video game doesn't mean you're going to murder someone in reality."
"Yeah," Bad laughs a little. "I guess you're right."
"I'm always right." Skeppy kicks up his feet onto the table. "Fiction doesn't equal reality. Now if only some people could get that into their brains. After all, it's your life. Who cares what you do in a fictional, creative outlet?
"Really, the only problem I see is if you do something despite being asked not to. I'm sure Quackity was laughing his butt off."
"I can hear it even now," Bad grumbles. "He just loves trolling me, like a certain other person."
Skeppy's eyes twinkle with delight. "See? As long as he didn't say he was uncomfortable with what you did or what you're doing, then it's fine. Murdering people in a game doesn't mean you want them to be murdered in real life."
Bad sits down on the couch next to Skeppy. "You're right. I'm just overthinking it."
"Yeah," Skeppy agrees. "But that just shows you have empathy, that you care about other people, right?"
"Mhm."
"So, yes, fiction doesn't equal reality. So, remember that, BadBoyHalo."
"I'll be sure to, Skeppy. When'd you become so wise?"
"I'm going to college, so --"
"This again? You muffinhead, listen here, just because you're going to college doesn't mean anything. You're not even attending yet!"
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
"We're not starting this again."
"We are."
"Oh my goodness."