A portal fantasy, stranding the protagonists in a VRMMORPG. They gradually grapple with the potential deaths of their physical bodies, while navigating their current existence in a video game. What does it mean to be alive, to be dead? And was their previous life one worth revisiting, or should they focus more on the here and now?
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Dread and fear were on the menu today, and while she was in a chipper mood before, that all came tumbling down soon after. Why, oh why, did it lost her contact details? Did she really come off as approachable? Am I the designated speaker of the party? Eisbaer pressed
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As a sanitation worker from a major city, Saffron had so little time to itself in the outside world. All those old fears of humans being replaced with machines were all for naught; not out of concern for worker’s rights, though the union had a big hand in this.
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In another world, Vallens’ typical day revolved around ver cats, work, ver extensive library of trashy low fantasy books, and puttering around in the game. At such a high position, ve only needed to show up a few hours a week, to read and respond to a few emails (or
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After having a fabulous morning, during which Eisbaer found the perfect fabric for Saffron’s cloak, and discounted, to boot, this was the news she came home to? “Way to marsh my mallow,” she said, draping a damp cloth over her eyes. The staff was finished, the cloak halfway there.
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Saffron tapped at its interface, navigating it like a drunken toddler. Now was a good time to adjust the font size on its HUD. The visuals weren’t the issue; it was the damn narrowness of the keyboard that screwed it over. And of course, having an unsuccessful day of
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“Oh, good taste, Saffy!” The wolf’s ears drooped at the nickname, but it didn’t push back, either. “Thanks,” Saffron said, rubbing the back of its neck. “I knew I wanted something sturdy and long lasting, so this seemed like the best choice of the lot...” Eisbaer awkwardly balanced
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Reluctance set in once Eisbaer was on her own, standing before the faceless wooden figure. Her beloved Trenton idled at her heels, waiting for instruction. “Well, I never thought I’d be doing this again.” But it was either this or harassing poor bunnies in the woods, and she didn’
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“We’ve got clients lined up already, Trenton! Can you believe it?” Granted, Eisbaer suspected most of these pottery enthusiasts were NPCs. Or worse—players utterly devoid of creativity. When she put out that tentative post in the Global Chat (also worriedly devoid of life), she expected one or two
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A queer futuristic portal fantasy, set in the same universe as Early Adopter
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It was a beautiful night to die, but Vallens wasn’t ready to give up the fight. Rapid bursts of flame and lightning lit the dark sky, uprooting trees and shrubs. Specks of dirt and brush threatened to overwhelm ver, only to be repelled by a translucent shield. Vallens’ opponent,
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A tall, shrouded figure stood outside a long defunct toy store. A truly archaic structure, as most things could be ordered online and delivered right to your home. That was all done through virtual channels such as this, but one couldn’t walk out, newly bought toy or accessory tightly
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Being alone was nothing new to Eisbaer. She was used to it and liked to think of herself as adaptable and (mostly) of sound mind. No, that didn’t worry her. What did was the severe shift in circumstances. Such as not being able to logout, or more importantly, the