[i]You have lost connection to the login server. Retrying in thirty seconds.[/i]

"I thought this only happened to your usual MMOs."

[i]You have lost connection to the login server. Retrying in thirty seconds.[/I]

"Are you actually serious?"

[i]You have lost connection to the login server. Retrying in thirty seconds.[/i]

"If I didn't have to login today to get that one-month playing award I would be doing homework right now."

[i]You have lost connection to the login server. Retrying in thirty seconds.[/i]

"Who even gives rewards for participating on a daily basis for a month? The Yakuza?"

[i]You have lost connection to the login server. Retrying in thir-[/i]

The AmuSphere slammed against an orange pillow with a thud, rolling away from it before stopping next to what appeared to be a gigantic plush Easter egg. Why the strange, blue and green object was in Makoto's possession was a mystery to even her, but it had sat ominously on the edge of her bed for the last decade, its eldritch mass adding to the feng shui of her bedroom. Of course, one would wonder why she kept it there despite there being three-hundred and sixty-one days of the year that were unsuitable for Easter celebrations, but the explanation was actually quite simple - like many teenage girls her age, she was too lazy to fix something that had little impact on her life.

"Right, back to doing English homework," she grumbled, pushing herself up from the bed. "Why does this language have so many tenses anyway?"

That of course, was a question that stumped many speakers of East Asian languages, for their logographic systems were mostly free of things such as "past participles" or "imperfect subjunctives" that plagued the grammar of the Indo-Europeans. Memorising them was, in the words of Sai Makoto, "absolutely retarded", but alas, it was her duty as a student at Yamagawa High to complete the homework tasked to her and submit it at the next class. Otherwise she would probably be lectured by her teachers on how slacking off would destroy her chances at graduating high school becoming successful member of society when she reached her age of majority.

She agreed somewhat with that, honestly, but English was horrifying language probably created by moustachioed nobles with dreams of world domination. Logging onto ALO was far preferable to doing all this work, but hey, the login server seemed to despise her existence.

Truly, being a teenager was suffering.

"Damn you Ymir," proclaimed Makoto to the heavens, shaking her Biro pen up at her ceiling. "Damn you to hell."