Gamer Girl Shiroi
Admiral Biscuit
Shiroi took one last look at her setup before hopping into her computer chair. It honestly wasn’t the most comfortable chair, since it had been built for humans and not ponies, but like many things in her game room—or office, since here was where she earned her bits—it had been given to her. All she had to do in return was sit in it and occasionally say nice things about it on stream.
She powered up all her peripherals, checked the focus and white balance on her webcam, then verified that her capture card was working properly.
It was.
After a sip of tea from her Yeti cup—which had also been a gift—she powered up her mic, did a quick sound check, then tweeted and instagrammed her followers as a friendly reminder that she was about to go live.
After one more sip of her tea, she started her stream. “Good morning everypony and everyone!” Unsurprisingly, most of her early followers had been ponies. “I hope you’re all having a good day wherever you are! I’m Yūrei Shiroi, and today we’re gonna be finishing Grand Poo World.” She paused for a second. “I hope.”
There was always a moment at the beginning of her stream where she worried that she was talking into the void, and then the messages started appearing on her feed.
personjennifur: Welkom terug Shiroi!
hairdryer-in-the-bath: Permission to come aboard, captain? :P
CherryVine: Hi Shiroi!!!! You’re so inspirational!
Rosette: Veel geluk!
drjoe999: You going to beat Bowser?
SoulSilver783: I got popcorn for this stream.
NotNevilleLongbottom: Same
frecklzsux: This is going to be awesome
As the game booted up, she took the time to personally welcome a few of her followers as they showed up, both the ones she knew and a few unfamiliar usernames who’d appeared on her stream.
And then she lifted up her controller and focused on the television, bringing the people the content they so desired.
•••
The Throne Room. Just the name alone gave her a thrill of anticipation, and instead of scanning the comments as the level loaded, she kept her focus on the screen.
A small chamber with spikes, and two shells. And a speaker box, which she jumped into.
You will never win.
“We’ll see about that,” she told her viewers.
•••
An hour later, and the prophecy was proving to be true. The double shell jump was only the beginning; there were saws to spin jump on and spikes to avoid and moving floors and a P-switch she had to jump on in the air. Kaizo blocks were peppered in the most inconvenient spots, the disco shell didn’t like to behave, and the death counter was ratcheting up alarmingly. Not that the number of deaths really mattered; unlike Nintendo’s Mario games, she could die as often as she wanted without the game ending.
So of course it had a death counter as a constant reminder.
DanSolo: Almost had it that time
Stuggabush: Are you getting worse?
Starlystar: je kunt het
drjoe999: dont jump on the spikes
“Godverdomme.” Shiroi slammed her hoof on the table as the disco shell dodged her yet again. “I’ll get it. Thanks for the bits, Chevrolet_Smith56.”
A dozen more lives gone, then a dozen more, and then suddenly she was at the end of the spike maze, frantically pushing up on the controller to enter the door before her star power wore off.
The door led to a mid-level checkpoint, which she grabbed before it got away from her or something else came to wreck her, and then Shiroi had a blessed moment of relaxation. She leaned back in her chair, not worrying about the time counter—which was overly generous, since the level had plenty of ways to kill her without timing out—and let the flood of congratulations wash over her.
Besides the checkpoint, the room had a speaker box, large doors that surely led to Bowser, and a portrait of Barbarian staring down like a malevolent god.
The last speaker box had told her that she’d never win, and she was tempted to ignore this one, but there was a slight chance it could offer useful advice.
Or kill her, but she’d already gotten a checkpoint and was willing to risk it.
Well done, it said. Your efforts have brought you here, the summit of this game. I wish you luck. You will need it.
For just a moment, when she opened the door, she was led into a false sense of security. It looked like the exact same Bowser battle as Mario World—the black background, the thunderclap, the castle parapet, Bowser coming down in a clown car. She had a moment to wonder what was going to make this fight so difficult, what she’d have to look out for, if Bowser could still be defeated by tossing mechakoopas at him, and then he started bouncing like a maniac and she lasted long enough to discover that he also tossed out hammers willy-nilly, and then she was dead.
“Gotta be faster,” she told her viewers, and tried again.
And again.
And again.
•••
The longer the fight went on, the worse it got. Phase one ended with a rain of fire, yet another thing to dodge.
Once she got that figured out, a moment of hope—Princess Peach, which in the original fight threw a mushroom.
In this fight, she threw hammers.
“Stomme kut! Whose side are you on?” Shiroi glanced over at her discord. “I should get good? Thanks for the advice, Ryu, I’ll try it.”
•••
Her fifteen-hundredth in-game death brought a flurry of comments and a surprisingly generous donation of fifteen hundred bits in commemoration. She’d long-since gotten past Princess Peach’s traitorous hammer-throws and gotten halfway decent at dodging balls. If it wasn’t for the hammers that came with the balls.
“Dumb rotzak.” A ball pinned her at the edge of the screen, and she saw the hammer coming but could do nothing to avoid it.
If you can dodge a hammer, you can dodge a ball, xPatches000x suggested.
“Not doing so good at the hammer-dodging,” she admitted, and set down her controller long enough to take a sip from her Yeti cup. She thought she was getting better at the fight, but who knew how many phases it had? How many times did Bowser have to get hit before he’d die? And even then, would that be the end?
She could ask chat; she was hardly the first to play the game--it had been out for years, some of them would know. Some of them had played it. Some of them had beaten it.
•••
CherryVine: Are you going to beat him before 2k deaths?
bigbuffetboy85: Poo did it in like 1500
The_Earth’s_Core: I’ve got faith
ISO9001: You should take a break
personjennifur: Don’t throw your controller
CheeseBreeze: That was bad RNG
Rosette: Veel geluk!
bigbuffetboy85: Jump on the left side of the screen, there’s a dev block with a star
Hot_Grill420: It’s past my bedtime but I can’t stop
princesssaphir: There’s no dev block
It was past her stopping time and almost past her bedtime, but she was on a mission and Shiroi wasn’t going to stop until she defeated Bowser or collapsed on her controller. Other gamers sometimes had all-night streams and she could do that too, if she had to. She’d pulled all-night cramming sessions before, and this was kind of the same.
Bouncing clown car. Hammers, fire, and balls. Traitor Peach and her hammers. Stomp on a mechakoopa, dodge a hammer or two, toss it. A moment’s reprieve during the hit animation, and then back to darting around the screen.
It’s just a game.
But it felt personal, and she was beyond getting upset each time she died, she wanted to learn and she wanted to win, for herself and for her fans. And she would, even if the game had told her that she wouldn’t.
“Oh, come on, that was a hitbox error. I was clear.” She dropped the controller on her table, tried to sip at the last dregs of tea in her Yeti cup, and came up dry. It was time to either brew more, or suck on the teabag.
Shiroi knew her kitchen well enough to do it remotely without making a mess, but she was focused on the game and it wasn’t worth the bother.
She should have logged off hours ago, but she was close to winning—she was sure she was close.
•••
It was just another hit. Bowser held his arms up and rocked in his car, and she was already wondering what was next—this was the most hits she’d gotten on him so far, but the number of lives she'd spent fighting him already had numbed her to the possibility of actually winning.
And then smoke puffs came out of it, and then the clown car tipped over. Princess Peach descended to the castle parapet.
For a moment, cautious optimism. Who knew if Peach was about to throw more hammers? But no, she kissed Mario, and then text started appearing on the screen: Mario’s adventure is over. . . .
“Yes yes yes yes!” Shiroi jumped up in her chair.
Congratulatory messages were already flooding in, and it was reasonable to assume at least some of them had seen Grand Poo World played to completion before, so she was probably really done, but just the same she planted her forehooves on the desk and leaned in close to the monitor, only relaxing and slumping back into her seat as the credits began.
Besides the congratulations, besides the few trolls informing her that a different streamer had beaten the game much quicker, a second conversation had begun.
bigbuffetboy85: Did you see that? Yūrei’s got her nipples pierced.
Keypuncher406: _Was_ that a nip slip? Who knows pony anatomy?
Yong-Gao_Zhao: If anything, that was a belly button piercing.
SoulSilver783:Too far back
Max-a-millionPegasus: Nah, there were two.
NotNevilleLongbottom: Anybody take a screenshot to toss up on Discord?
antzzzzzzz: For ‘research’?
Tampaxpoptart: What’s up with you perverts?
game-and-grave: Shut up fag
frecklzsux: I got one, hold on.
bemaivalentine: you’r moms a fag
hairdryer-in-the-bath: Quit or I’ll start banning people.
•••
Completely unaware of the unfolding scandal, Shiroi made a quick apology for the long stream, thanked her followers for watching, her new subscribers for subscribing, and thanked those who had donated for the bits. She was still quite amused that Twitch called internet money bits, even if she had to constantly remind herself that they were worth far less than actual Equestrian bits.
Shutting down her equipment didn’t take long, and then she went off to the bathroom to freshen up. She’d been planning on cooking dinner but it was too late for that, so she used her smartphone to order a pizza instead.
The next morning, she woke to the usual slew of notifications across her various social media platforms, along with several text messages from Dusty Swift, a professional pegasus gamer from South Korea. Dusty Swift had come over on a student visa originally and ultimately gained enough of a following that EA had sponsored her to come back and pick up where she’d left off. She’d been the one to encourage Shiroi to try streaming—had, quite literally, taken the unicorn under her wing.
Shiroi frowned. Did something happen while I was sleeping? She was too tired to deal with it, not before her morning coffee at least, although Dusty Swift deserved a reply. She lit her horn and tapped out a quick message, then turned back to her coffeemaker.
Her Keurig did nearly all the work itself; all she had to do was put in the little coffee pod and the water. While she waited, she opened her Gmail and started scrolling through new messages. Sure enough, there was one from Twitch.
Your account has been temporarily suspended for violations of the Twitch terms of service.
The first part of the message was typical corporate boilerplate, a form letter, and she skimmed through it. ‘Dear Ms. Shiroi, we regret to inform you . . .’
Further down in the letter was the actual violation: section 9.i, obscenity and pornography.
Pornography? Shiroi wasn’t exactly sure what constituted pornography, but she was sure she hadn’t done it. She and Dusty Swift had had some discussions about the differences between human taboos and pony taboos—and of course, a quick guide was also available back in Equestria in a handy book titled So You Want To Go To Earth. She had a copy and still occasionally used it for reference.
She thought back to last night—some of the events of her stream were blurry; she‘d played for too long—and couldn’t come up with anything she’d done that would have broken the terms of service. Sure, she’d swore a few times, both in English and Equestrian, but other streamers did that. That wasn’t worthy of a ban.
There was an email address she could reply to, although without any more specifics thus far the best she could think of was to reply: “No, I didn’t.” She had a little brother; she knew that that was a discussion that could go on forever and never get anywhere, so she read through the email one more time before typing a text message to Dusty Swift.
I guess my stream tonight won’t be happening. That was kind of a blessing, she could take the night off and none of her followers could blame her for it. Maybe go and see a movie or even better, just walk around town. She hadn’t done that in a while; she’d almost forgotten how relaxing it could be.
Naturally, she’d have to warn her followers on Twitter and Instagram, and after a moment’s consideration, she decided to not be overly specific regarding the reason—after all, she didn’t exactly know herself.
•••
It didn’t take very long for Shiroi to discover what all the hubbub was about. “Is it because you flashed your tits on Twitch?” was the first comment on her Twitter post about missing her scheduled stream; on Instagram that sentiment didn’t come up until the third reply.
Reading further down the comments thread, she quickly found that several somebodies had screenshots, and they’d even circled the offending anatomy, as if she wouldn’t know what her udders and teats looked like. She wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal but was smart enough to not say anything she couldn’t take back in the comments.
Luckily, she had a few closer friends available via text message or Discord DM, and those conversations were private.
•••
In between conversations with close friends, she sent an email to Twitch asking for more information regarding the status of her channel, and then when she saw Dusty Swift was online, decided to video chat with her.
“Anyoung haseyo!”
“Hoi! Goedemorgen, how’s Korea?”
“Pleasant as always. How are you doing?”
Shiroi shrugged and flicked her ears. “I beat Poo World, and then I got banned from Twitch so it’s been a kind of strange day, you know. By the way, thanks for everything you’ve done so far.”
“Think nothing of it. I can put the word out to my followers and get some pressure on Twitch, but I think it’s too early for that right now.”
“Everybody I’ve talked to on Discord thinks it was ‘cause I showed my teats. It wasn’t on purpose; I got excited and put my forehooves up on my desk and I guess the camera was aimed low enough.”
Dusty Swift snickered. “I’ve seen the pictures.”
“I can stand up on my desk again if you want a better look.”
“You show me yours and I show you mine? Probably not the attitude they want at Twitch.”
The two ponies laughed at that.
“When EA brought me back,” Dusty Swift said, “there was a bunch of stuff I was supposed to not do, things I probably could have gotten away with if, y’know, I wasn’t sort of representing them. So a lot of times I wear men’s boxers when I’m gaming. They’re not too expensive and if you put them on backwards you can stick your tail through the penis flap.”
“You don’t usually wear clothes when you go out in public, though. Is that a problem for them? Like when you’re at a con—last time I saw you at a con you weren’t wearing boxers.”
“Tape. Gaff tape, it’s nice and wide and doesn’t stick too much but stays stuck if I don’t walk around too much.”
“I’m not taping up my crack. That’s not gonna happen, and if they ask for that, I just won’t stream on Twitch any more. I’ll find something else.”
“What, PornHub?” Dusty Swift laughed. “You don’t have to find another site, not as long as you keep your rump away from the camera. And don’t show off your belly, either. I’m sure you can work out a solution with them.”
•••
Shiroi made herself dinner. Normally, she would have had something simple and quick so she could get more streaming time in, but tonight she was still officially banned.
It wouldn’t hurt to get some boxers; they weren’t that expensive. She could try them out and if they didn’t work, she could return them or donate them to Goodwill.
The problem was, she didn’t like wearing clothes, and she especially didn’t like covering her rump. Besides the inconvenience of fighting with clothes when she needed to use the toilet, it made her hot and sweaty. “Probably give myself swampass,” she muttered. “Or a UTI, maybe that’s why so many human girls get them. Always got their junk covered with tight-fitting panties, there’s no air circulation. I don’t wanna have to drink cranberry juice.” She should have asked Dusty Swift about that.
Different countries had different rules. She knew that there were some countries where she was required to wear clothes regardless, but not in the United States. Now that she had a better idea what she’d gotten banned for, she might be able to convince the moderators at Twitch that she should be allowed to stream au naturel.
After she’d finished dinner and the washing up, she poured herself a cup of tea and went back to her computer room.
Twitch had sent her a new email, and it had a Discord link to a moderator she could talk to, so she fired up her computer and typed it in. He was online, which was good.
Hey, Shiroi here. Can I talk to you about my ban?
While waiting for a reply, she switched servers and caught up on a few threads. There were a few screencaps of her teats, which were only embarrassing due to the low resolution. She had a couple photographer friends who lived nearby and who could take a far better picture than the current pixelated mess. Depending on how her chat with the moderator went, that might be a good project for tomorrow.
Shiroi frowned. That wasn’t entirely untrue, although she’d had them done before coming to Earth. And they were also lots of fun during sex: they made her teats way more sensitive and drew a partner’s tongue like a magnet . . . not unlike her clit piercing. That wasn’t something she should bring up in the conversation, though.
Shiroi snorted. Some of the more popular girl gamers were certainly flaunting their boobs, sometimes practically falling out of their shirts, but she wasn’t going to say that, not now. One of her followers on Discord had just given her an idea.
She wasn’t scheduled to stream tomorrow, so she had plenty of time to get what she needed.
•••
Shiroi had mixed feelings about the gigantic stores that humans loved so much—it never seemed necessary to have so many things available to buy in just one place. For most of her needs, someplace close that she could trot to was ideal. But when she didn’t know exactly where to buy a human staple, it was a good bet that WalMart would have it.
There were lots of varieties of boxers to pick from, and she wasn’t allowed to try them on, which was stupid. She guessed on a pack of Hanes boxers that looked like they’d fit, then went wandering through the store to see what other options she might have for covering up.
WalMart had Kinesio tape available in several colors, including hot pink. It wasn’t as wide as she’d hoped, but seemed a better choice than duct tape. It was made to go on skin, after all.
Applying the tape over her udders and teats wasn’t any more fiddly than changing her piercings, and when she was done, she had two large hot pink Xes properly concealing everything that HorsesOnDemand from Twitch had told her she should. Admittedly, if she sat too far up in her chair it was likely to actually draw more attention than if she’d gone without, or if she had chosen a color of tape which more closely matched her dark skin, but this way she could follow the rules while also flaunting the stupidity of them.
•••
Shiroi took one last look at her setup before hopping into her computer chair. It honestly wasn’t the most comfortable, since it had been built for humans and not ponies, but like many things in her game room—or office, since here was where she made her living—it had been given to her. All she had to do in return was sit in it and occasionally say nice things about it on stream.
The Kineso tape felt weird. She could have changed into her boxers, but Shiroi was a stubborn pony, and she’d made her choice. A bad camera angle wouldn’t offend anyone or anypony—or maybe it would, but she was following the stupid rules that had been set forth, and at the end of the day, that was what counted. Nopony in Equestria had ever gotten offended at the sight of her teats or a passing glance under her tail.
Was there some glory in having gotten banned? Maybe in the minds of her viewers—chat would tell her.
She powered up all her peripherals, checked the focus and white balance on her webcam, then verified that her capture card was working properly. She could be sure that one prudish viewer wasn’t going to be back, but as for the rest . . . there was only one way to find out.
Shiroi tapped out a message on Instagram and Twitter, then shifted around in her chair until the tape wasn’t pulling too much. Once she got into the game, she knew she’d be able to ignore it; until then, she’d have to deal with it. “Good morning everypony and everyone! I hope you’re having a good day wherever you are! I’m Yūrei Shiroi, and since we beat Grand Poo World last time, today we’re going to be playing Grand Poo World 2!”
Author's Note
Special thanks to my pre-readers! ROBCakeran53, Exuno, Snowliason, Present Perfect, Bugysdor, Sir-Not-Appearing-In-This-Fic, Halcylon, and Akouma!
Click HERE for story notes!
