After little sleep and a massive shared breakfast of French toast and more bacon than I’d seen in my life, we got back into the game. The events of the previous day and the news of it not being a solitary event had dampened our mood, but we refused to let it get to us completely. We were sticking around to help Viv so we’d attempt to enjoy ourselves in the process. It might have been an odd way to honor her, but she’d been so excited about this trip and never got the chance to enjoy it.

The game world stretched out before us. Hidden in a chaotic mess I had no idea how to navigate, were promises of new things, of danger, of adventure. The real life danger we should have been concerning ourselves with took a backseat to the experiences unfolding that teetered on the edge of too much. Gnomish drive-by attacks. Face diving fairies. What other magical mysteries are in store? I wondered, trying to ignore the happy little balls of light dancing around me.

We entered a little town called Light’s Edge which sat just outside the principal city for the game, Lighthall. NPCs with vacant eyes milled about their coded lives and smiled at us pleasantly. If I turned my head, I could see the point where their tracking stopped. It was fun to watch their faces return to rest, staring into the void while they froze mid broom stroke, waiting for the next player to wander close before they sprang back to life.

“All right, talk to everyone with a gold star over their heads. Grab all the quests and we’ll do a sweep,” Cale said, his confidence returning once he was back in his element.

A fat-faced woman with beady eyes asked us to find her kitten, Mittens. While it seemed wildly inappropriate for this woman to own a pet when giant rats lurked nearby, we agreed to find her cat.

In my upper right corner, a circular map appeared with an arrow. Below that were the words:

LOST MITTENS: 0/1 Mittens Found

We moved on to the next quest giver, a veteran from the first war, whatever the fuck that meant, who wanted us to get his medals back from a camp of bandits to the north. He eyed the devilkin in our party with distrust as he spoke. We agreed to help him and he nodded, not breaking his intense glare.

“Why’s he looking at me like that?” Salvo asked.

Cale saluted the veteran before he explained. “The first war was with the infernals, your in-game ancestors. Also, you’re a rogue. Instead of turning in the items to the veteran for xp, you can sell them to a fence for gold. Rogues can finish most fetch quests that way.”

“So, I’m like a double asshole then?” he asked after a moment of pondering.

“Mm,” I agreed. “Your character is too.”

After we grabbed the remainder of the quests, a list formed underneath my little map that read:

LOST MITTENS: 0/1 Mittens Found

EXTERMINATION CREW: 0/10 Rats Killed

TOO MANY BANDITS: 0/15 Bandits Killed

A HERO’S BOUNTY: 0/5 Medals Found

STRANGE MEDICINE: 0/20 Smokeweed Found

“Please tell me I can smoke down with this guy after we find his smokeweed,” I asked, finally feeling a connection with the game. We technically hadn’t fought anything yet, but I was always down for some good old-fashioned smokeweed. “So, let’s go do that one first and then we’ll come back.”

My commentary might have broken Cale. I couldn’t be certain, but his eye twitched at me as he stared into my soul. It wasn’t a game glitch; it was the game reflecting something he did frequently in my presence. Ever since he’d been the teacher’s aide in one of my classes when we’d first met.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll smoke down with the monkey man later. Where to first?”

Cale’s demeanor shifted a smidge. “We’ll sweep around and do them all at once. The experience for killing most of this stuff is tiny compared to what you get for completing the quests.”

We followed a little golden arrow on our mini-map until we came to a burrow in the ground, surrounded by giant rats. I swallowed a comment directed at Salvo and his ex-girlfriends.

“All right, these are easy, but we can use them to get a hang of group combat. Liz, you’ll get a heal in the next few levels, but you don’t need to worry much about that right now.” Cale spun the sword in his hand in warm-up circles. “Cast your Nature’s Fury spell on that one.” A skull icon appeared over one of the rat’s heads.

Just like he’d taught me in our sparring lessons, I mentally brought up the action bar and selected my only spell. Leaves raced up my body and formed a ball of radiant green light that propelled itself to the desired target. “I did it. I’m a fucking badass.”

The spell missed, but the rat lumbered its way in my direction, anyway. So, I could still count it as a success.

The edge of Cale’s sword slashed at it, drawing its attention from me, and a line of ruddy spittle dripped from its bucktoothed mouth.

After the hollow sound of a puff of air blown into an empty metal drum combined with the stench of sulfur and brimstone, Salvo appeared behind the rat and stuck both of his blades deep into the rat’s haunches. It screeched and spun in a last-ditch effort to save itself.

The entire scene became a little too real for me, and I started feeling bad for the little bastard. That was until the rat bit my friend since second grade and all sympathy drained away. I raised my staff with both arms, forgetting I’d do more damage with a spell, and clubbed its head. The rat fell on its side and twitched before going still. And that was damned satisfying.

A new bar appeared with the earned experience points: 15/250

Cale stuck his hand into an opening on the rat. There didn’t seem to be any resistance, it just passed right through like a little window opened into his internal organs. When he pulled his hand out, a sword, somehow three times the size of the rat’s body, emerged.

“Hey, Cale?” I scratched my head. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Looting. The objects are random. I also got some viscera to sell for a few silver.”

“That makes sense, viscera are inside of a rat. They fit within the dimensions of a rat. That sword,”—I pointed to the weapon in his hand, somehow untouched by the gore of the rats internals—“not so much.”

“It happens,” he said, and shrugged. “It’s a little better than my starter one. Thanks, little buddy.” He patted the dead rat on the head.

After we killed the remaining rodents for our quest and found Mitten’s remains in one of the corpses—may she forever rest in peace—we moved to the bandit camp. They were a little spryer than the rats had been, but we took them down with our growing expertise. After searching the area, we found the medals we needed in the bandit’s tents, stashed inside various lootable objects.

Salvo looted a shitty, yet somehow better chestpiece than he’d been wearing, and I found a two-handed mace. Which fit my emerging play style of, ‘Fuck casting, I’m gonna beat a motherfucker on the head.’

We found the smokeweed growing wild around the camp. Like, well… weeds. If I could make a headquarters in this game, I’m pretty sure I’d choose that location. Trees of half-assed 2D quality, fewer fairies attacking my face and all the natural smokeweed I could handle. Good times.

When we were ready to leave the camp behind and return to the village, I wasn’t quite level three. After we turned all of our quests in; I was suddenly level five and a whole other world of possibilities opened up. Just as soon as I’d gotten used to combat in my big-tittied elf form, there was a new spell. Wild Form.

“What’s this?” I asked while activating it. A menu popped up asking me to pick my primary fighting form. I could choose a powerful but slow bear, a fast panther with high damage but low defense, an all-around balanced wolf, or an over-sized viper with poison attacks. I hovered over viper, but chose panther instead. They could stealth, and it would be handy to have if I ran with Salvo on occasion.

My character let out a battle cry, and a haze of emerald magic surrounded around me. When it dissipated, my view was far lower than previous and I was on all fours. Except my hands had formed into taloned paws with dense fur, and my gait was feline. I trotted around for everyone to experience the grandeur of the creature I nicknamed Cat-Liz Neverseen.

“Fuck yeah, bitches, I’m a motherfucking kitty cat,” I cried out in what was somehow still words. I’d half-expected it to come out as a roar.

Cale sheathed his sword and crossed his arms, obviously far less impressed than he should be. “It stands to reason that would happen. Since you’re playing a druid and that’s what they do. Don’t get too used to it though, at level ten you need to spec into full heals to help us level faster.”

“How have I gone two years without having your motivation to keep me going?”

He sighed and looked down at me. “Are you ready for more quests or are we going to dick around here all day?”

In response, I discovered that the emote /piss did, in fact, exist and Cale didn’t seem to appreciate my gesture.

We continued to sweep through more quests, gaining levels at a fairly fast rate. Thanks to Cale’s knowledge of the early game, we wasted little time with unnecessary travel.

After the fourth round of turn-ins, all three of our characters were bathed in a tornado of shimmering light and trumpets heralded our achievements.

Achievement Unlocked: LEVEL 10

A new menu popped up I hadn’t seen before, asking me to choose my specialty. Despite the little voice in my head that screamed for me to pick anything other than a healer, I ignored the rest of my options and went with Cale’s suggestion.

I can be a team player sometimes.

Achievement Unlocked: SPECIALIST

Along with the achievement, I also received a message from the Druid’s Guild of Arcadia. Congratulating me on my advancement and gifting me with a weapon suited for my new role. Attached to the message was a staff of gnarled wood wrapped in vines and flowers. It was the most disgusting girlie foo-foo shit I’d seen in a while. But the stats were amazing, so I equipped it.

The specialization came with new spells, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it didn’t take my cat form away from me. Cat-Liz Neverseen lived on, only not as powerful as she once had been. Beside the icon for my fighting form was a new shapeshifting ability called, Dryad, or a healing form reserved for assholes like me stuck playing the healer while everyone else got to have fun on the front lines. Instead of dwelling any further on how horrible my friends were, I clicked the new spell, figuring I’d give the shape a spin.

Now, I’m really not sure what I was expecting, and truth be told, it wasn’t much. So far, the game had gone above and beyond anything I’d played in the past, easily topping my wildest expectations. But I didn’t think the form would be a variation of my original avatar. Only, instead of armor, vines wrapped around my character and wove in her purple hair; with a few flowers and leaves expertly placed to hide the naughty bits. Also, walking was for suckers. This form kind of hovered above the ground. That would take some getting used to.

“And now I see why Cale insisted I play a healer,” I said, completing the layout of my action bar and revealing my new shape. Arms crossed, face not at all amused.

“You mean, so we had a healer?” he said, annoyance in his voice. His character put away the book he’d been studying, meaning he’d exited from his menus, and his eyes widened at my nearly nude over-sized knockers. “That wasn’t in beta.”

Salvo set his own book aside to take a peek. He pushed a fist to his mouth and bit down on a knuckle while his eyebrows worked their way closer and closer together.

A sigh escaped me. “Go on, get it out of your system,” I said and pinched the bridge of my nose, ready for the further humiliation.

Deep devilish peals of laughter erupted from him, and he wiped at an eye.

“It’s not that bad,” Cale said and tried to give me an encouraging look. Though I noticed, he failed to look me in the eyes.

“It’s not,” Salvo said, getting a hold of himself. “It’s pretty hot. But it’s Liz in there, and that’s fucking me up. The same Liz who punched a guy for buying her a drink. Or kicked another for holding a door open for her. Or-”

“All right, we get it. I might have some issues with intimacy.”

Salvo put a fire engine red hand on my shoulder and flicked at a flower. “No one loves you more than I do, bitch. But that’s like saying the Titanic had some issues with an iceberg.”

Cale glanced sideways, still not willing to look me in the eye, and mumbled, “You look nice.”

“Can we please go kill something now?” I pleaded, returning to my normal avatar, so I’d have the benefit of armor to cover me.

“Yeah. There’s a dungeon we should be able to manage now that we have a healer. We’re a little low on DPS, though. Salvo, how’s your poison and alchemy skills?”

The devilkin stopped twirling a dagger on his fingertip and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can do that?”

The massive shoulder pads on Cale’s armor slumped, and he rubbed a hand against his cheek. He muttered a few things under his breath before speaking again. “All right, let’s head to Lighthall City and take some crafting professions. While we’re there, Salvo needs to learn how to use poisons and, preferably, play his class.”

“If we want to go through a dungeon, can’t we just invite a couple others to join us?” I asked, though not liking the idea of expanding our social circle. I’m a creature of habit and new things tend to be scary.

Salvo draped his giant bat wings across his shoulders and hooked two claws around his neck, making him appear as though he wore a giant red leather cloak. “Can we be sure whoever did that to Viv won’t be someone we invite into the party? Do we even know what that person looks like?”

“No,” I said. “I saved my chat log in case I needed it. Still working up the nerve to read it, but maybe she said something that I missed.”

Cale nodded at me. “Good idea, you can download the log on a tablet to read on the outside. Let’s get to town where you and I can log off. Salvo, grab alchemy so you can start getting components for your poisons. Watch yourself and stick to crowds. If anything strange happens, just exit the game.” He sent me an instant message with instructions on how to make the chat log available to a device on the outside. Since I’d left my tablet at home, we’d have to use my phone.

Annoyed with myself at the growing anticipation of time alone with him, I forced a note of boredom in my voice and said, “Sounds like a plan.”

Salvo shrugged, “Not going to be on much longer, but I’ll work it while I can. Got an invite to a party downtown. You guys want to go?”

The conflicting emotions building inside me boiled over, erupting in my friend’s direction. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?” I asked. “You do remember why we’re here right?”

“I do but-”

“But nothing. Our friend’s in the hospital and you’re still worried about getting your dick wet.” I stormed ahead, ignoring him and uploading the log to my phone. The second I crossed over into Lighthall City, I logged off.

Back in the real world, I’d just pulled on my old sweats before there was a soft knock at the adjoining suite door. The disturbance in the overly quiet room added to my already jumbled nerves. I jumped, cursed under my breath and felt another edge of guilt from exploding on Salvo. Next time I saw him, an apology was in order.

After flipping a few lights on, I opened the door and flopped onto the couch.

Cale stood in the doorway, a laptop bag in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other. After a few moments of hesitation, he stepped through. “Figured while you were going through the chat log, I could browse message boards. See what people are saying online.”

“And the scotch?”

He shrugged. “Some of the greatest minds in history needed a little lubricant to get the wheels turning.”

I had a momentary disorientation between game world versus actual world. I’d heard his deep voice for so many hours that day coming from his elven avatar, it seemed unnatural coming from another source.

“So, where do you think we should start?” he asked, pulling an end table towards his side of the couch for the laptop.

“I can scroll through the log and tell you anything that sounds relevant.” I scratched my head and fixed my face into an expression of apology. “A lot of it is personal stuff that I don’t think she’d want me to share.”

“Let me guess,” he said and sat down beside me. “It’s about Salvo.”

“More or less. She was that easy to read?”

“Most people are. There're exceptions.” His right eye twitched, and he turned away to his laptop, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“Should I get cups?” I asked to change the subject.

“Since when do you use them? Pretty sure coffee is the only thing I’ve seen you pour into anything resembling a glass.”

I cracked open the bottle, raised it in salute and took a pull. It was wretched, not being a fan of scotch and all, but it was warming. I handed the bottle to Cale and pulled out my phone to scroll through the discussions.

Fifteen minutes went by, and I was feeling hopeless as I scrolled through lively messages of a woman without a single care in the world. The banal shit that annoyed me at the time, seemed precious in hindsight. It was overwhelming and, for a moment, a speck of dust must have gotten in my eye and clouded my vision. I was nearly about to put it away, go through it another time when the pain wasn’t so fresh, but when I got closer to the time she disappeared, I found something:

Daddi3sGRL: Holy shit, remind me 2 check the marketplace for a skin I just saw.

Ri0tGrrl: A what?

Daddi3sGRL: Customization. Some guy just ran by looking like static. You know, like when they show old timey TV and there’s no signal, so it’s all black and white snow?

Ri0tGrrl: A character looks like that? That’s cool, I guess.

Daddi3sGRL: Yeah! But I asked where he got it, and he said its limited edition. Sucks. :(( But I bet Daddy can buy me one!

Her next comment steered the conversation back to the topic of Salvo, asking me to describe in detail the size of his cock. If it was closer to a banana or corndog? Ew.

My replies were about the game world and other mundane things. All designed to artfully avoid the question about Salvo’s junk. Less than three minutes later, the conversation ended with the dreaded message of her disconnect.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, the memory was too fresh and swollen. More guilt gnawed away at my insides. Would I have answered her differently if I’d have known? Given her a little something good before the bad? Fuck me, it was too much to take in all at once.

Cale took a large drink and handed me the bottle. Thankfully without making a fuss about my emotional turmoil. “All right, well, we have a lead. Skins like that don’t exist.” His fingers glided across the keyboard on the laptop. “Nothing on Reddit besides guys perving about the dryad skin on adult servers. Sorry again about that. On the other servers, they had robes on.”

“Mm,” I said through tightened lips, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

His shoulders slouched and he groaned. “Nothing on the official forums either.”

“What about a general web search? See if there’s blogs about it or…” I held my hands out, palms up. “Someone had to see a guy with a static skin that doesn’t exist.”

We searched together. I scoured the web with my phone and he on the laptop. As we worked, the bottle grew lighter while our asses scooched ever closer together. Until finally, with nothing else to point us in a new direction, I’d been ready to call it a night. My head spun way too fast for my liking and I was already dreading a day of gaming with a hangover.

“Found something,” Cale said, with a combination of pride and a thick booze-soaked tongue. He’d found a message board with the heading:

Have You Seen Us? Lost in Arcadia

There’d only been three entries, but it was enough to confirm our suspicions. There were other potential victims who might have shared Viv and Lucinda’s daughter’s fate. Cale tried to join but received a message his request needed to be authorized. He’d receive an email with steps to proceed.

“So, now we wait,” I said, feeling nerves spinning my guts along with too much drink. My mouth flooded with saliva and I knew the churning had more to do with the drink than emotion. If I didn’t make it to the bathroom, the pristine white living room would get a whole lot less pretty.

Everything would have gone flawlessly. In fact, I might have even been able to hide it entirely, if Cale hadn’t decided to finally make a move at that very moment. Clumsy, drunken hands grabbed the back of my neck, pulled my face to his and locked his lips against mine.

At first, there was shock and joy as my lips responded. But like all good things in my life, the rush of elation was cut short by an upward surge in my stomach that threatened to spill through the gates. I swallowed hard against it, pushed him away with all my might, and, in a voice filled with more horror than intended, I shouted, “Oh god, no.” I ran to the bathroom, slammed the door behind me before unleashing the devil and all his armies into the porcelain bowl.

Between heaves, I heard the adjoining suite door close.

“Fuck,” I said as I realized how it must have looked on his end. How hard I’d pushed him away, the disgust in my voice.

I waved a middle finger in the air. A statement to whatever being might be responsible and vomited some more.