Next to him, sitting in her own recliner, was a girl. Almost a woman, but not quite yet – Richard guessed she was somewhere between thirteen and sixteen. She was holding a can of Red Bull, her expression one of confused surprise. She had a heart shaped face, mousey brown hair and a light dusting of freckles on her cheeks. She wore what looked to be a very comfortable bathrobe, white and plush, cinched up tight. Hello Kitty slippers adorned her feet. She was staring around the room in surprise, her mouth moving but making no sound. One day she might be a looker, but not yet. Her eyes were a little to frank. Too assessing to be peering out of such a young face.

 

He looked down and saw that he too was wearing a plush robe, white like the girls. His hairy feet however were bare, his toes (which he wiggled experimentally) warm and well-manicured. The room smelled lightly of citrus and furniture polish, and bookshelves lined the walls. There was no door aside from the French ones through which the sunlight streamed so warmly.

 

He helped himself to a cookie, munching happily as the girl next to him continued to speak and jerk her chin towards him, then the door. He didn’t care. The cookie was as good as he remembered, the milk the perfect icy compliment. He smacked his lips and settled himself more firmly into the recliner, reaching out for another cookie as he did so. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that his gram’s golden retriever Phillip could be heard barking outside.

 

TICK

As he brought the second cookie to his mouth, he heard the sound of someone clearing his or her throat politely in front of him. He thought about opening his eyes and seeing whomever this might be but decided against it, popping the cookie into his mouth whole and relishing the tastes of warm chocolate and vanilla.

 

Chew. Swallow. Milk. Swallow.

 

Perfect.

 

He could hear the sounds of the worn floorboards in the kitchen protesting lightly as someone bustled about inside, could almost hear a trembling voice humming a Big Band tune as she pulled a turkey from the oven. He knew it would be golden brown under it’s wrap of shiny silver aluminum foil. Knew that right now she would be basting it with a large plastic thermometer thing that had always grossed him out.

 

Lovely…

 

“Ahem,” came the sound again.

 

Richard’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. His hand groped once more for a cookie but came up empty, and when he turned his head and opened one eye, he saw the table was gone.

 

No more cookies. Zero milk quotients.

 

He opened the other eye and, sighing, looked over towards the kitchen, but saw only bookcase. Naturally.

 

TICK

 

“Richard?”

He turned to look and saw his grandfather/father/Second Grade History teacher Mr. Lowell looking at him from behind an immense walnut desk. This melded being wore a tweed overcoat, a brown leather vest over a white shirt and was leaning on it’s forearms, stroking a small silver-white goatee with on hand, the other resting in the crook of it’s elbow. Eyes the exact color of starlight peered out from beneath Santa Claus eyebrows at him, and he had no idea what expression might be lurking there. He suspected it was an appraising one. It always was in the end.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you ready?”

 

As Richard mulled this over, staring down at his still warm toes, something big moved across the French Windows, casting a brief but immense shadow across the room. He looked up, and saw the girl was still sitting there, slouched in her recliner, Red Bull still in hand, her mouth moving furiously, eyes wild.

 

“For what?” he asked sullenly. He could still taste the cookies, the scent of turkey still hung in the air, fighting gently with the smell of oranges and polish. He wanted them back.

 

TICK

 

“You get a chance. Just one more chance,” said his grandfather/father/Second Grade History teacher Mr. Lowell from behind his immense desk. Richard could see ornate carvings all across the front of the desk. What looked like people, and continents? Maybe some animals? The shadow again, blocking the sun for just a moment.

 

The globe was spinning now upon the desk, and the countries upon its surface looked familiar. Except that middle one – what was that middle one? Was that the one he’d missed during his final? Probably. He tore his gaze from the globe upon the desk and looked at his grandfather/father/Second Grade History teacher Mr. Lowell. “I haven’t studied,” he admitted grumpily. “And you said if I went to college and applied myself I’d make money and acquire happiness and get the girl.” He glanced at the girl as he said this – she was glaring at him furiously, mouth forming the words of what looked to be some pretty choice curses.

 

“Well?”

 

His grandfather/father/Second Grade History teacher Mr. Lowell leaned back against the tree behind the desk and rubbed a seven fingered hand against it’s forehead tiredly.

 

TICK

 

The shadow once more, right-to-left, light-to-dark. The burning star-filled eyes regarding him from under the tired hand, weighing him, assessing him. “It is done.”

 

He fell onto grass, lavender and smelling of some peppery spice. The desk, his grandfather/father/Second Grade History teacher Mr. Lowell, the room – all gone now. As he clambered to his feet (which were no longer bare, but snugly encased in his sneaks) he heard a feminine voice behind him saying in a songlike, lilting accent “What the FUCK is going on here!!!!”

 
Rick tried to get to his feet.  He wasn't dazed or tired so much as really, really confused.  He planted one hand firmly on the ground and got to one knee.  He almost spun into a sideways fall, but he staggered and kept his feet before turning to see who it was complaining behind him.
 

Dianthe stood there, next to him, on a wind-swept hillside covered in purple-y grass.

 

And she looked pissed.

"Gaaah!!"  Rick jumped so abruptly at the startling sight of the cartoon character next to him that he almost fell backwards.  "What the fuck!  You're a - you're - you..." 

Recognition led to curiosity that quickly overcame panic.  He leaned forward to squint at her through his black-framed glasses.

"No way.  Dianthe?"

 

Kara was shaking inside. She didn't know if she was more afraid or pissed, but something weird had just happened, and the only constant was this old balding loser in front of her. She'd been sitting at her computer, playing WoW, respeccing her character Dianthe, when next she knew she was sitting next to this loser in some sort of southern sitcom set, she could still smell the turkey adn giblets, only she'd been unable to move or speak. And this guy, this ... weirdo was sitting there eating cookies and milk like some sort of retard school reject. Then she was here, wherever here was. Everything had a surrealistic edge to it and the colors were weird, cartoonish, almost like somone had pumped some serious server time into rendering one of Azeroth's zones.

Whatever this old perv had pumped her full of, it didn't seem to be messing with anything but her visuals. I bet this is what E feels like she thought. "Look dickweed. If you don't tell me what's going on right this instant, I'm going to start screaming for the cops. If you come anywhere near me, I'm gonna kick you in the balls so hard they'll be bouncing around that empty head of yours. I took Karate, and I'm not afraid of you!" She struck an appropriately fearsome stance, one she'd fallen in love with from Jade Empire. She thought it looked cool and menacing. It had certainly scared that Billy Masters when he'd tried to get even for the stomping she'd given him in the Arathi Basin BG. Stupid Horde players.

Richard just stared at her with open-mouthed confusion and a furrowed brow through her rant, head held slightly forward.  He held the pose through a very pregnant moment of silence before sighing and running both hands over is head.

"Okay, this is fucked up."  He ignored the avatar of his online friend for a moment and looked around.  We're not in Kansas any more, he realized.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked himself conversationally.  "No, this doesn't feel like a dream, although you," he said to the purple night elf sharing the hill with him, "certainly aren't real.  I mean, you're real in that you're there, but, you're not...you know..."

Rick shook his head and laughed a bit.  "Wow, okay, so... I'm not dreaming because this doesn't feel like a dream.  And I can see myself, which isn't supposed to happen in a dream."  He was talking as much to her as to himself now, as if giving a lecture.  He had one hand on his chin and the other traipsing in random gestures to match his words and thoughts in the air.

"Plus, I'm standing here having an existential conversation, which doesn't happen in dreams.  Unless it's a lucid dream, but then I should be able to control what's going on and so far I'm not seeing that happen.  So, okay, not a dream."

Kara listened warily to the rambling of the obviously insane pervert who'd kidnapped her, or whatever the hell had happened. It was then that several things registered on her awareness, now that her attention was diverted from her anger. First her voice had sounded odd to her, it was deeper, more adult, and it held a strange accent to it. Her words, despite their vulgarity, had held a lyrical, almost musical quality to them. She thought it might be a side effect of the drugs this baby-raper had given her so she started to dfismiss it from her mind when his words and the next realization struck her like a hammer.

He turned and stared at his companion, studying her with his hands in his navy blue sweatpant pockets.  "But then how do I explain you," he wondered aloud.  "Drugs?"   He thought about it.  "Could be drugs.  But no amount of pot could do this," he said, gesturing at her up and down.  "And this isn't shrooms or acid because I've done both and," he chuckled, "this ain't it."

He took a quick self-assessment.  His head was fine, his focus steady, his thoughts clear.  He felt mentally sharp.  Physically he felt better then he could ever remember feeling.  No, this wasn't drugs - at least no drug he was aware of.

His words struck a chord in Kara. He was experiencing some weird shit too. Before she could follow that thought through to its conclusion, she was struck by the fact that she was looking down on the man, even in her slightly crouched stance. It hadn't struck her at first but now that her mind was a little focused it was really weird. She was only 5' 2 and judging by the age of this man, and his proportions, he had to be at least 6 to 10 inches taller than her. And yet she could see the top of his head, receeding hairline and all. It was then that the final blow toppled her from the razor's edge of calm that she'd been balanced on.

"So... not drugs."  He turned around again to survey the landscape.  The colors, the scents in the air, it was familiar but also off somehow.  "So what the hell is this?"

He began to pace slowly, back in forth in front of the night elf, studying the purple grass as his mind tried to wrap itself around everything.  The vague memory of Nana's cookies.  Turkey in the oven.  The imposing amalgam telling him about one last chance.

Richard stopped dead in his tracks and a terrible mask of horrified realization dawned upon his face.

"Oh my God... I'm dead."  He looked around again quickly.  "And this isn't hell, so... I'm in heaven!  Yes!"  He paused in his celebratory preparations and considered aloud with a hint of amazement, "Geez, their standards must have dropped or something.  I mean, I've always tried to be good, but..."

He shrugged.  "No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth, I guess."  Turning to Dianthe, Rick released a deep breath and said, "So, this isn't drugs or a dream.  I am dead, this is heaven, and you're some figment of my after-life imagination that I don't fully understand yet, like Cuba Gooding was to Robin Williams in that movie." 

He stepped a little closer to her, hands back in his pockets, smiling and completely at ease and unthreatened by her martial pose.  One hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Kara looked down at the purple grass to see if she was standing on something that gave her some extra height and her left hand and forearm, in the guard position of her karate stance, arrested her gaze. Her skin was a deep purplish blue. BLUE! Not the rose of a blush, or the red of a sunburn, or the pale peach of normalcy, but freaking blue. The deep kind of blue that in certain lights looked either purple or black. She stood there in shock for a moment, her mouth working silently, trying to verbalize.

"You have no idea what a huge load-off this is.  Things had gotten pretty bad for rme."  He looked her up and down again, starting to get impressed with the level of detail and then thinking it completely appropriate given where they were.  He returned the scratching hand to his pocket.

"So, do I get a harp or something?" he shrugged in question.  "Is James Mason still in charge up here or what?"  Rick laughed at his own joke.

Kara quickly broke her stance and started rubbing at her left hand and arm, praying silently that it was makeup, or chalk, or something, but her right hand and arm was the same color, and it didn't budge. She took a few stumbling steps backwards from the crazy babbling man, finally frightened and freaked out. This wasn't E, she'd never heard of anyone having this kind of trip on E.
 
She didn't know what this lunatic had done to her but she needed to get out of here, now.  She turned without answering the man, not even understanding what he'd been talking about and started to run. She didn't know where to, but anywhere far from him. Maybe she could find someone, a cop, or a priest or somone who could help her. That's what their jobs were, to help kids in trouble like her.

Rick watched her depart in long, flowing, even strides.  His brow was creased with concern that his after-life figment whatever was running off to do whatever it was that figments did.  Still, the realization that he was in dead and in heaven made developing a sense of urgency about anything somewhat difficult.

"Kooky," he commented with a slight shake of his head as she made her way into the near distance.  Then, in his best James Mason impersonation, "I'm sorry, Joe, but this is how it works."

With a chuckle, hands still in his pockets and in no particular hurry, Rick started down the other side of the hill.  Might as well check the place out if he was going to be here for eternity, he figured.

***

Dianthe

After only a few minutes of frenzied, terrified running, Kara realized a number of things. First, that running away never really solved anything. Second, in a place with purple grass and silvery-leaved tree's, she was unlikely to run across a police officer. Especially a place like this. Third, the perv behind her was the only person she'd seen since opening her eyes in this very very strange land, and while he was probably nuttier than a squirrel, maybe he knew something.

She slowed, then stopped, and realized another thing: she had come quite far, and wasn't even winded. Her heart was pounding, sure, but that was fear and anger and adrenaline talking. She wasn't breathing hard and hadn't broken a sweat. She tried to avoid looking at her purple arms and hands, tried to not feel the silken softness of the robes, but... but that's what dumb people did. Avoiding a task was letting it own you, and she was all about owning others at the end of the day.

She looked at herself, at the smooth limber arms, the narrow tapered (and elegant) fingers. Flexed them, felt the suppleness and strength in them and marveled inwardly. Her black robes rippled in the peppery-scented breeze, the golden sunlight causing oil-sheen ripples to run across them as she ran them through her hands. Robes... purple skin...

He'd called her Dianthe.

She clutched at her side and felt the long slender wood of a wand that she knew would be there. Felt beneath the waistband and discovered a pouch that seemed quite full. She removed it quickly, opened it, saw the glint of three red phials and new them for what they were. Saw below that the sheen of gold.

Dianthe...

Could it be? There were a couple of ways to be sure. Kara brought her new hands up to her face. They were shaking, giving visible signs of her inner turmoil. She her supple fingers played lightly over her chin, delicate and slightly pointed. the brushed lips that were full and pouty, continued up to trace high delicate cheekbones. She brought them slowly back to her ears, the lobes were smaller than her own and pierced, whereas mom wouldn't let her have hers pierced until she was sixteen, some stupid parent rule. With fingers shaking even more she started to trace their outline. Where her perfectly normal ears had stopped and rounded, these continued, arching gently back from the side of her head like a pair of thin fleshy antennae, coming to a point approximately 4 inches behind and nearly a full inch above the top of her head.

She snatched her hands back, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. She'd been turned into a Night Elf! Excitement stirred to life, slowly burning away the fear.

Dianthe ... Wow! That's so cool. Kara wondered whether the transformation was more than physical. Part of her brain held to the fact that this could still be a drug induced hallucination of some sort, but hell as long as the nutcase wasn't trying to feel her up , she might as well try to enjoy it. She'd never get this kind of trip again.

She pulled the wand out of the small sheath it rested in and examined it. The wood was smooth to the touch, silken even. It was a deep mahogany color, enscribed with spidery runic script.  The tip held a jewel that glowed slightly with an inner light all of it's own, its ruby light flared briefly as she first handled the wand, and her hand tingled with the power she felt in it.

Taking a quick glance around, she focused on a tree approximately 100 yards away. Feeling slightly silly, she brandished the wand in a slight flourish, and a word forced itself out of her lips in a singsong whisper. "Fielloura." The gem flared brightly and a bolt of crimson light shot from the wand directly at the tree.

The bolt hit the small sapling nearly dead center. As the wand's energy burnt its way into the tree, she heard a high toned hiss, and milliseconds later the tree exploded in a burst of flame, wooden shrapnel and vaporized sap.

Kara/Dianthe ducked instinctively at the explosion as a splinter the size of pencil whizzed by her delicately waving ear.

AWESOME!

Let the baby-raper try something now.

Armed, she turned resolutely back towards the way she had came and started walking, wondering what other powers she might have inherited. As if in answer to the question, the words of spells began to form just behind her eyes, the gently rounded symbols and cuniform letters glowing and writhing as they changed slowly from one spell to another.

Desylliath - The holy shield
Azzanthia - Gods fire
Reurishaka - Healing of the body
Reurishala - Returning of the soul
Suerizhala - Cleansing of disease

Many were missing... there were huge gaps in her mind, places that had held other powers and abilities that seemed to have vanished. Really, really, huge gaps...

This pissed her off, but she calmed quickly enough as excitement once more overrode fear and annoyance. Let's face it, she was seeing actual SPELLS, words of power that seemed to be more than just little icons to click on a sidebar. And this to be done as fast as possible to avoid being raged at by the morons who didn't understand what it took to be an effective healer. It almost took her breath away to think that she could do these things.

Right? She could do these things, right? 

She stopped again. Maybe she should try it out. The words were there, and she'd made the wand work, amazingly well, so maybe whatever had changed her had filled her with power too. 

She mentally ran the key word for the Holy shield spell over in her mind, it's syllables dancing in her inner ear like a song. Her new voice seemed perfectly matched to the words, so after a few internal practice runs to make sure she didn't trip over the pronunciation, she sheathed her wand, stood stock still and said the word as confidently as she could. "Desylliath!" 

As she began to speak, her hands began to shape an intricate pattern in the air to accompany the word. They did this automatically, the motions of her fingers smooth from long practice.

A golden, translucent bubble appeared around her as soon as the word and the gesture were complete.

Kara giggled as excitment bubbled up through her. She felt a little drained from the casting, but she was still tingling, and felt nearly invincible. Before she knew it, she was bouncing on her on her toes. She felt more alive than she had ever before, even more so than when she and Mkay had duoed Stormwind's prison instance, 2 levels below the recommended range.

She continued bouncing for a good thirty seconds before breaking into a run. She ran for the sheer joy of it, feeling the strengt, stamina and agility of her new form rippling through her. As she topped the next little hill she threw herself into the air and rolled forward into a full 360 flip, landing lightly on her feet, never breaking stride. She did it again, and this time just layed out, prepared to do a face plant. If the shield worked, she wouldn't be hurt. As the ground rushed at her face, she crossed her fingers.

The shield slowed her descent for just a moment, then she felt herself gentle settle onto the ground. Not even a scratch. 

Kara rolled onto her back and laughed, and laughed. She laughed until her sides hurt and her eyes teared. She had power in this delusion; a weapon of deadly energy, a magical energy shield to protect her, and spells to burn, to heal, to resurrect; her body was strong, healthy, and agile beyond her dreams; her mind was the same, sharp and intelligent, wise beyond her peers. Had she become a goddess, or merely one's tool? Was this real or a dream. If it be a dream then please don't let me wake up! She prayed to whatever gods existed in this realm.

Kara .. No... For as long as this dream persisted, Kara was no more, she was now Dianthe. While she may not have all that her game avatar had in abilities, what she did have was enough, more than enough to get answers from the only source she knew of. The only other soul she'd encountered. The nutcase she'd left back on the hill.

With the same sense of purpose and determination that saw her demolish all comers in all games she played, Dianthe got to her feet turned her face to the sky, let out a primal scream of challenge and ran, as hard as she could back towards the hill she'd left the odd man on. If there were any answers, he'd have them. If he didn't then she'd find them, or die trying.

***

Richard

He was beginning to find Heaven somewhat repetitive. The grass was nice, the breeze was nice... no fire or little horned guys with pitchforks, which was also nice. No people either, aside from the figment which had screamed and run away. The tree's were nice, if a little weird. He remembered stories about the trees in Heaven - there was one that had fruit you weren't supposed to eat, wasn't there? Would there be a warning label or something? An Angel with a fiery sword saying "Begone!"?

Not that he felt hungry, cause he didn't. Or thirsty. Doing ok there. His sneaks moved through the stiff purple grass, disturbing the odd insect here and there as he passed, but otherwise... pretty non-eventful on the whole. Pleasant breeze. Pleasant grass. Pleasantly deserted. Nothing but rolling hills of purple grass beneath a deep blue sky.

Rick had the thought that heaven was awfully boring for the paradise it was hyped up to be.  Perhaps there was fine print he missed somewhere.  Or maybe one man's paradise was another man's boring day in the country.  He sniffed and considered, and then decided to see if he couldn't get a better handle on things from a higher vantage point.

The next hill was fairly tall, taller than many.  He marche dhis way up it to the top, amused at how effortless everything seemed.  Normally he'd have had to stop several times to catch his breath and give his out-of-shape body a rest, but this was practically effortless.  He wasn't even sweating, he he'd sweat in a cool breeze.  Marvelous.

From the top of the hill, Rick could see for quite some distance.  In an unfortunate twist, he found nothing except more rolling purple-tufted hills - purple mountains majesty? - in all directions all the way to the glittering horizon.  He threw up his arms in frustrationand looked around some more, and then threw up his arms once again.

Back the way he'd come he saw a thin pencil of greenish smoke rising slowly into the afternoon sky.  Odd, that wasn't there before, he realized.  And yet, while the smoke was interesting, the allure of meeting additional residents of this place was even more captivating.

"Where the hell is everybody?" he wondered out loud before catching movement out of the corner of his eye. 

He looked towards the spot where he thought he caught sight of something but found nothing.  Then his eyes were drawn to several small specks moving about several hills off.  They were too small to make out - animals maybe.  But at least they weren't hills or purple grass, so that made them immediately more interesting than anything else at the moment.

About to set off in their direction, Rick checked himself.  If this is heaven, he theorized, then perhaps I do not need to walk?

With a beatific smile upon his lips, Rick spread his arms and leapt up and out in the direction he wanted to go.  He willed himself to float there, to fly on astral wings.  The he willed himself to not break his neck as he tumbled down the side o the hill.  Muttering words not exactly proper for heaven, Rick dusted himself off and started jogging towards the distant specks.

It took about ten minutes effort (and he still was neither sweating nor even breathing hard from the exercise once he stopped) to jog close enough to see that the little specks were some sort of deer. Maybe twenty of them or so, some with antlers and some without. They were an odd color, sort of blue on the bottom and purplish on the top, and... he stared. Counted. Stared again. Sex legs.

Huh... well now wasn't that a kick in the pants?

They'd been grazing around a silvered stretch of water, which Richard saw now to be a very small stream running in a tiny depression along the ground. Because he was still some distance away, the herd hadn't seemed to notice him. It was pretty peaceful on the face of it, him and the deer and the sparkling silvery stream. 

Six legs though... 

Slowly, Rick continued on towards them.  He moved on soft feet, trying to minimize the noise of his footsteps.  An unsettling series of thoughts filtered through his brain, most of the pertaining to the idea that perhaps this wasn't heaven and he wasn't dead, in which case - this certainly not being Earth - he was very likely in a world of trouble. 

As the implications of it all began to sttle upon him, he decided to settle down on a hillside overlooking the herd.  HE sat with his knees drawn up, elbows resting upon them as he put his head in his hands.  Dianthe, a fairy forest, a herd of six legged whatevers, feeling better than he ever had in his life...

What the hell was going on?  He wasn't sure, couldn't possibly be, but as sure as his hairline was receeding he was going to figure it out. He'd only been sitting there for a moment, watching the deer as they grazed through the long lavender grass, when he saw their heads almost in unison lift and look back in the direction from which he'd come. They stood there for a moment, ears twitching and noses raised, then bent back down to their meal.

***

Dianthe -

He was gone. She was pretty sure this was the place she'd first opened her eyes on this strange world or dream or whatever. She could see where the grass had been bent and broken by their presence, but he was gone now. For as far as she could see it was just rolling hills of lavender grass, broken occasionally by the odd clump of trees. He could be anywhere. She searched the ground, wondering idly why she hadn't created a hunter and she spotted it. A series of broken lavender blades, the odd foot print here and there... it helped that the grass was so long and brittle, and that the ground was able to take a print. 

He'd headed Northwest  it appeared. She followed the trail, noting that  at one point he'd broken out into a jog. As she crested a hill, she saw the glimmer of a stream in the distance, and a small herd of what looked like deer. And the tiny figure of a man, sitting atop another hill watching them.

Kara's eyes narrowed. She couldn't tell if it was the guy she'd appeared here with, but since she hadn't seen any signs of other habitation, she could only assume it was. She stretched a moment, something she vaguely remembered from PE class. Before and after running, you were supposed to stretch, to keep the muscles loose. She didn't feel like she really needed it, but didn't want a surprise cramp, or anything when she'd need it most.

After about five minutes, the whole time never taking her eyes off of her quarry, she resumed her travelling, this time at a fast jog. She didn't want to be winded in case he tried to pull something on her. Let him try. She thought as her lips turned upward in a predatory grin. She'd fry him where he stood, then laugh at him as if he were a noobcake.

***

Richard -

He'd been looking around, and he saw her coming as she jogged over hill and dale (as it were). It's hard to miss a six foot tall blue elf running at you from across the savanna.  He waved at her to join him as he lay in the purple grass.

When she arrived he pointed at the animals.  "Check it out," he said.  "They've got six legs.  I've never seen anything like it."

Dianthe had stopped a few feet away from him and knelt with a grace that nearly made a song of her movments. There was a wary look about her face, and she clutched tightly at a slender jewel-capped rod at her waist. Her glance in the direction he indicated was quick and perfunctory, no emotion other than caution betrayed itself on her darkly beautiful face. Her ful ips were pressed tightly into a thin line, and the muscles of her jaw pulsed regularly. She was tense and poised for action, whether fightor flight, Richard was unsure. She reminded him of a panther poised to spring.

He took another look up and down his taller companion.  "But then again, look who I'm talking to.  I'm lying here in the purple grass watching blue six-legged jackalopes and talking about it with a real live computer game character." 

Feeling it appropriate, Rick used one of his and Dianthe's favorite in-game phrases to sum it all up.  "There's some fucked up shit going on right here."

"You can say that again." She replied, absently. Suddenly her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes, glowing softly golden, narrowed as her gaze drilled into his. For a split second, Dianthe had half expected him to repeat his words, just like Mkay did, everytime. Something clicked into place and she seemed on the verge of a revelation. 

"Who are you," she asked in her lyrically accented voice. "and what's going on?"

"Rick Lombardo, of the planet Earth Lombardos," he said to her as he rolled a bit towards her from where he lay on his side to extend his hand.

Dianthe shied away from his hand, but her expression changed from wariness to disbelief. It couldn't be. This was too surreal. Mkay's player was named Rick. She didn't know his last name, but then she'd always shied away from that kind of personal information. Considering she'd told him her name was George. She'd built up a male alter ego to keep the dweebs and prevs from bothering her with their cyber requests. when she'd met Mkay, it'd become habit by that time. After she had gotten to know him, it'd just been easier to maintain the lie than to explain it. Besides, she'd never heard anything funnier than some of his rants about his work. It beat that old fart Carlin by a long shot!

He shook his head slowly as he watched the grazing herd.  "And I honestly have no friggin' clue as to what's going on anymore," he admitted.  "At first I thought I was dead and this was some kind of afterlife, but... I just don't know.  I have no idea how to explain what I see or how I feel, but there it is."

Rick lay all the way back and closed his eyes.  "I keep thinking that I'm going to close my eyes and when I open them again I'll be back on my couch in Hoboken.  But then I think that maybe that's not what I want."

He stopped talking and just lay there, eyes closed, for a few moments with a troubled look on his face.  Then he turned his head towards Dianthe and offered with a quick smile, "I guess we won't be making raid night, huh?"

His mention of the guild raid, erased any doubts she might have. This was Mkay's player. She didn't how or why he was here, or what had happened to her, but at least she was captured here with someone she knew, if only a little bit. 

"I guess not, donger." she replied with a soft musical chuckle. "Guess you decided to go for take out,eh?" she gestured to the herd of animals in the near distance. "Though, I'd have thought you'd go for chinese or Taco Bell, don't you think this is a bit much?"

"What?" Rick said with amusement at her suggestion.  "Oh hell, I only play a warrior.  I couldn't actually hurt something like that.  I'm a lover, not a fighter," he added under his breath.

Something clicked in his head and Rick did his best to ask his question tactfully. 

"Um... is that you in there, George?  I mean, you're obviously Dianthe, but you talk like George talks."

The night elf's laughter was like silver bells chiming in a gentle breeze. She smiled for the first time in his presence seen they first appeared here. She sat next to him, more relaxed now. "At least you're not as much a noob as you look." she said, her voice tinged with teasing humor. "For a second there I thought I was going to have to hand you a fat red crayon and a Big Chief tablet and start drawing pictures for you." 

She paused a moment and looked away, at the surroundings. "So you're as clueless as I am about where we are and what happened, hunh?" Her sigh was heavy. "We have a a crapton of unanswered questions, and no one to ask. So what's next, Rick? We just stay here and play Swiss Family Robinson, or we try to find answers?"

Rick shrugged and returned his attention to the grazing whatchamalopes.  "Oh, I don't care.  Honestly, this could be an alien planet and I'm totally ambivalent."  He sighed.  "I must be crazy.  I should be running around trying to figure this out, but for whatever reason I'm just missing the motivation."

"Besides," he added, "If we're here for a reason, the answers will probably find us, sooner or later.  Until then, I'm considering myself on vacation from a life of sucktitude."

"Dude, look around, there ain't no beach, no waiters with mai tais and pink umbrella's. Your life may have sucked, but mine didn't. I don't know why I got dragged along, on this fairy land trip, but you know me, I can't stand to just sit and wait." Dianthe replied, her voice heavy. "I got your back as always, but we gotta do something, anything other than just sitting here and waiting."

"Okay, Leeroy Jenkins," Rick said with heavy but friendly sarcasm.He lay his head back in the grass and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face.  "Just what exactly did you have in mind?  There's nothing to see from the top of this hill except more hills all the way to the horizon."

His face scrunched up in thought and he said, "Actually, there was some smoke back the way we came, like maybe someone had a fire going.  I guess we could always check that out."

Had Rick turned his head he'd have seen something even more unusual than a live 6 foot tall Night Elf, a 6' tall Night Elf blushing. Dianthe had felt the heat rise in her face and ducked her head a little. "I would'nt bother. It's probably just the smoke from the tree I blasted."

She sighed again. Rick's mood was getting contagious and was warring against her inner joy of having power, real power, in this place. "There's always something beyond the horizon, man. Remember your 5th grade science class? The world is round my friend. Hell, there might even be dragons over yonder. That'd be cool as hell."

"Probably be a little more challenging than a tree," he said through a low chuckle.  "Dude, you blasted a tree?  I'm surprised you didn't ask me to tank it for you."

Dianthe giggled softly, "Well, I might have, had you been there, besides, it was green to me, I could handle it. I'm not entirely helpless, you know. I got skillz."

"Yes you do," Rick agreed readily as he closed his eyes.  I can get used to this, he thought complacently.

"So what's your plan?" he asked.  "Just pick a direction and start walking, and hope for dragons?  Lest you forget, you may have arrived as your epic main, but I'm just me.  I'm not going to be tanking much in sweatpants and a T-shirt."

"Dude, this is far from my epic, I have 5 spells and a wand of uber tree killing, but this ain't the game man, those 5 spells should be more than enough to keep your flabby ass alive." Dianthe said with a grin. "Seriously, you need to hit a gym or something. C'mon, lets get off this hill and find some semblence of civilization. You can go all existential on me later."

Rick sighed and got up to follow his friend.  "Coming, Mom."

As he fell into step beside her, he asked, "So... what spells do you have?"

Dianthe smiled. This was more like it. She picked a direction at random, and started walking. Her voice was excited as she spoke. "Well, I haven't tested them all, but I seem to have a heal, a rez, a cure disease, a shield spell, and some sort of blast, on top of my wand, of course. " She fished out her belt pouch, and flashed it's contents to her companion. "I also have a couple of heal potions and some gold, though I'm not sure how far it'll take us. But it's better than being empty handed."

Their feet swished through the strange purple grass, the sun burned down upon them from out of a sky so blue Richard wondered if it was photoshopped, and still they saw no people. Birds and insects yes, but people seemed to be in short supply in this place. Quickly they left the herd and the tiny silvered stream behind them, moving uncounciously at a ground-eating pace. Strangely, neither were feeling particularly fatigued as they moved across the rolling plains. Or thirsty. And while the sun moderately bothered Dianthe, Richard continued to feel a sense of well-being that seemed enormous, if only because it had been so long since such an emotion could have been found on his inner roster.

Dianthe let him see the gold, small circular discs no bigger than his thumb, each stamped on one side with heavily crowned tree, the other side being blank. The potiions as well, each in a sealed red bottle that glowed faintly. The pouch at Dianthe's side seemed far too small to hold these items, and yet it did. They were marvelling at what appeared to be a rather intricate sewing kit contining needles of copper and silver and gold, as well as various threads that seemed to have thier own inner luminoscity, when they both felt it.

A sense of being watched.