WORLD 1: SUMMER CAMP
LEVEL 1: DANCE CLASS
The worst part was, Kyla hated dancing.
Dancing, in Kyla's mind, was humankind's third-most* nefarious, insidiously evil invention, designed by a secret worldwide Bully Conspiracy expressly to alienate Nerds, humiliate Losers, and exile Introverts, efficiently and automatically, all from behind the blatantly false yet never questioned pretense of having a little fun. Somehow, Society had been brainwashed into thinking that the deeply humiliating ritual of energetically flailing one's body about in a very public and often overtly sexual manner was not just okay, but apparently the standard activity for any large public gathering that didn't belong to the Lesser Nerds. People who were pretty, fit, confident, and popular might get something out of dancing without compensation, Kyla figured, but the rest of the party existed around them to be humiliated for their benefit, to be stepping stones for the Sarahs and Biffs of the world. As if their egos weren't big enough! Kyla had never been to a dance where she hadn't ended up tucked away in a corner, alone, her cheeks burning and her attitude sour, just waiting for her chance to go home and be alone in peace. Even alone, she'd never seen the appeal of doing any more than just listening to her favorite music, never felt so figuratively moved as to literally move to it.
*(Humankind's second-most evil invention, by the way, was Karaoke, created when the Legion of Bullies sought a way to spotlight individual Losers, and came up with the idea of forcing them into the impossible task of outsinging Professional Pop Stars on a public stage, whilst ingeniously getting them to open their poor music taste up to critique from the Popular. Humankind's most evil invention was licorice.)
Carol, on the other hand, could not stop dancing.
Literally. Kyla couldn't force herself, as Carol, to stop dancing if she tried. This game had... idle animations. LOTS of idle animations. And no, they couldn't be idle animations as simple as breathing or blinking or yawning after a while like they usually were in other games; any lack of a game action input by Kyla was immediately interpreted by Carol as an opportunity to express her interpretation of the omnipresent background track with Kyla's body. Thinking about it, she was actually glad she hadn't ended up with Coppelia's oversexed body and mostly kept her androgynous figure after all; her breasts were probably going to get REALLY sore with how much Carol liked making them bounce.
As a matter of fact, it took a while for Kyla to realize that the intro cutscene had actually fully ended and some limited control over her body had been returned to her. Long after the title card had faded out, Carol was still posing, stretching in place, swaying her hips and bobbing her head with the beat, but nothing of importance seemed to be happening next until Kyla finally got bored enough to try asserting herself. Surprisingly, she moved. Kyla could once again walk around and do things and be herself as usual... kind of. Roleplaying was not optional, and Carol was not boring enough to just walk from A to B like any old dork. She strutted from A to B, and always kept up a delicious wiggle to her hips and bounce to her tits, whether Kyla wanted it or not. Every other action - jumping, crouching, interacting with objects, etc. - was like this: filtered, accessorized, and beautified somewhere between Kyla's brain and Carol's body. Kyla would've sighed if Carol allowed it, and made her way to the next room.
... It was Carol's bedroom, apparently. Pictures of her with various friends at various events in her life were thumbtacked up to the walls haphazardly, with captions evidently meant for environmental storytelling Kyla wasn't particularly interested in at the moment. There was a messy, unmade twin-sized bed, and a display case with trophies, medals, and plaques from various dance competitions Carol had won. Old, empty bottles of protein shake were littered here and there, and overall the place was kinda just a chaotic mess. I'm gonna really miss my own room, Kyla thought, recalling her own spiffy nerd haven in her own home.
Possibly more useful than all of the above was the closet, Kyla thought. There was a set of pajamas in a heap on the floor in there, which might have been an upgrade from her current sporty Tifa-Lockhart-esque outfit. So she sauntered over, and then, of course, hit an invisible wall. (A): Switch Clothes said a popup. Outfits Unlocked: 3, said another. Another, Current: The Carol Classic. Kyla shrugged, snapped up the Master Controller, and pressed (A).
Current: Gymnast Fab. It wasn't the cute-looking PJs in the closet, to Kyla's dismay. It was a just a very very pink, very very tight leotard, one with a deep plunging neckline and which revealed way more hip than Kyla thought was standard, but was otherwise unadorned and very plain. Kyla got a sweatband, too, and her hair had been pulled up into a ponytail. Thighhigh socks, no shoes. Her old outfit just kinda blinked out of existence when this one blinked in, Carol didn't have to actually do anything. Didn't have to, but did anyway. Punching (A) didn't just change her clothes, it immediately caused Carol to take over and pose their body in a mirror for a second or two, evidently to show off the outfit or something. She flexed an arm, put the other on a playfully cocked hip, bent a leg, and winked at the mirror with a big, mischievous smile; it was like Kyla's reflection was flirting with her, on reflection. Okay, so, not that one, Kyla thought, unimpressed, before hitting (A) again. This time she was ready for Carol to do some silly pose again, but she wasn't ready for the outfit to not be the pajamas she expected; those were evidently just for show. Current: The No-Frills. This was just a full latex bodysuit in shiny but otherwise featureless black. Being one of the skintight, almost-painted-on variety that despite showing no skin left nothing to the imagination, Kyla decided she liked this one even less, and Carol's pose, covering her breasts and crotch with a faux-embarrased flush as if she really were nude, did nothing to endear her to it. Back to the Carol Classic, I guess, Kyla thought glumly as she hit (A) a third time to restore the default outfit. At least it has shoes.
The last item in the room was an old-fashioned boombox. Kyla didn't touch that. She probably didn't need to, given that the ubiquitous background music was still going strong. Right now, it was just a very relaxed ambient tune, the sort of elevator noise you'd expect in a lounge, except with a strong but slow bassline cooling pulsing underneath. The music would stay this way for the rest of the level, in fact.
So, next room. Carol squared up their shoulders and swaggered on ahead at Kyla's only gentle direction.
The first thing to grab her attention in that next room was a dialogue box. "Oh, hey, Carol! How's my star pupil this morning?" said an NPC the dialogue box named as one Old-School Sally. "Today's the big day, right? You think you can squeeze in a lesson before going on your adventure? It could help you along the way! >Yes No "
Kyla took a moment to kind of just stare while Carol bounced in place. Old-School Sally looked like she'd come straight out of a 1950's-era cartoon. As in, she was literally 2-dimensional and probably hand-drawn with no shading, interacting with the rest of the 3-dimensional world around her like she was Jessica Rabbit at the Ink and Paint Club. She'd certainly dressed the part of a girl from the 1950s, wearing that particular style of polkadot-pattern swing dress you only ever saw from that decade, with her hair fixed up in ringlets at her shoulders. And of course she had the usual giant, expressive eyes and oversized gloves you'd expect from those cartoons. Despite her title, Sally looked fairly young; not a day over 25, if Kyla had to guess.
"A refresher's the least I can do for you before you go, darling!" Sally continued when Kyla'd been quiet a moment. "Trust me, honey, I'd go with you if I could, but-" And abruptly there was a loud, crunchy-sounding CRACK audible from what seemed to be Sally's spine. She grimaced and hunched over in obvious pain, and 50 years of aged wrinkling abruptly showed up on her face. "... but my back's not what it used to be," she finished with a little whine.
Appearances can be deceptive, I guess, Kyla thought, over her second look at the old crone. Only Carol seemed to have the privilege of talking, so she hit "Yes" on the Master Controller.
"Brilliant, darling..." Sally leaned back and stretched in time with the music, until after 1, 2, 3 shaky beats there came another POP from her spine. Pain gone, she stood up straight and was young again. "Let's get started, shall we?"
