Many years ago, in a land far away but not too far, lived a young girl. This girl loved doing everything her older brother did. Her brother started playing video games, she began playing video games. Her brother moved from the N64 to the computer, she moved from the N64 to the computer. Her brother talked with friends at school about video games, she, well she stood in the group and listened. A game called "America's Army" came out and the siblings played. Not together as the dial-up internet couldn't handle that, but the brother played and the sister watched. Then when the brother was at work the sister began to play the game, slowly she played and eventually got better. Her name reflected the age at which she began, but it was hers. Then one day her brother and his friends jokingly came up with a clan name. This was new to the girl. She had seen such things online, but had never thought that she might get to be a part of one. The clan name was silly, but it was her clan. She wore it proudly and began to make it hers.
Time passed.
The young girl was now a young woman, her brother a man. Video games were still played, but now both siblings had separate computers and they could play together. Christmas came. The girl, still a girl at heart, was excited. Christmas was a time of gifts, but more importantly family. Sitting around opening gifts, now more practical items than in the past. The last gift was an odd one; in the past last gifts were a final fun surprise a whimsical trinket in the midst of practical things. This gift was not that, it was towels. Brand new bath towels. These were greatly appreciated, but not a last gift. Then the girl was grateful, but confused. Then out of respect she hugged the towels and went to say thank you. But as she hugged the towels, she noticed the towels had a lump, a hard rectangle of a lump.... The girl quickly unwrapped the towels; there was a box. A bright orange box with two faces and an outline of a person. Girlish squeals rang through the house. The wrapping paper was cleared away and Portal was installed. The other games were nice, but Portal was what had caused those squeals
The next day her brother suggested they try one of the other games, Team Fortress 2; as it was one they both might like and could play. The girl agreed and they began playing like they had years before, only this time the girl played and the brother watched. Then memories were stirred, they could trade as they had before, but the name used on Steam was the girl's name and it was still, as always, girly. Stillness settled as both siblings began to think... Then the girl had it; the clan tag. They had both played under it; it was not his or hers, it was theirs. Quickly it was typed and the play continued.
Time passed.
The game was played often and the siblings took turns. They found a map and server they liked and stayed, and the name became a part of both of them. As voice chat happened the name became a joke and the fellow players knew that the siblings played as one, switching and taking turns. After several months past, the brother purchased the game as well and the siblings began playing together again.
Time passed.
Other games came and were played for weeks or months at a time. TF2 was only pulled out as a lark. But the girl, now an adult, held the memory of playing TF2 on a little laptop, switching seats with her brother and watching the other play.
And with these memories she kept but one visible token, a name, an old clan tag. -=DUH=-
I love how all of you came to your names! It's really neat 
