I should be looking at a screen.

I should be sitting back at my desk by now. Break should be over by a good ten, fifteen minutes now? I mean, I never paid too close attention to it. But, neither did the boss, so I can't quite complain.

Except right now I could.

Not that my snack got stuck again either. Shoot, not even that my favorite snacks were out. Popped chips with some sea salt. Crisp, light, and tingly... No. Work vending machines are always pretty trash, even in a building as fancy as ours. But... i'm not lost. Well, debatable, but...

I should be back at my desk.

Should be back there. Where the world made sense. Be stuck looking at my computer, listening to my cubical mate complain back again about the weekend. Probably that his kid had a game he didn't want to go to. That or food was wrong. Or maybe even just that he was tired. Bored too.

He was consistent, if not pleasant. I could use that right now.

I should be daydreaming of getting home. Logging into a far more enjoyable screen. Yelling and shooting the shit with friends. We were going to start to practice the higher tier content this week. Finally got my mage on up to be a good DPS support for them, so we should be working on a few gear runs for practice. Then actually trying.

But that's not what is happening.

Because I died.

At least, I think that's the case.

We certainly never had an office like this back at work. Pleasant muted cream walls, lights gleaming in the space just out of vision. Hints of color more bright than the warm quiet glow that surrounds. Flecks of green, golden, hints of red, like the afterglow of Christmas lights. Nor did we have a couch in our offices.

High back roller chairs. Heavy tables too big to really get into the room. Stiff. Stuffy. Irritating, and bleeding professionalism. Those were the offices back home.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Still, the color. The couch. The warmth in the air. That wasn't what tipped me off that I might be dead.

No, it was the antlers.

Broad and slim. Jutting and reaching on up into the sky around his brow. Maybe ten? Twelve points? Every time I've tried to focus on them it seems to shift under my gaze. Of course, the reason is easy enough.

"You know, my eyes are down here."

Well, sure. But eyes are eyes. Narrow smoldering looking gaze that he had, it was just that. Thin, drifting, almost narrowed and sallow. His cheekbones were striking, especially with that smile. And on to the sides of his face where-

"Are you going to say something?"

"Uh... S-sorry, just sorta still trying to process the..." Raising a hand, I just gesture back to him. The antlers. the tapered tips of his ears. Bare midriff all that clothed him atop as he lounged in the air. A foot tapped back in the air, those two cloven toes briefly shifting as he smiled that strange smile. Almost familiar. But just....

It didn't fit his face.

"Well, you aren't a mute. Makes this much easier then!" He's smiling again. It's different though? It reaches his eyes. Mirthful. Hands folded up in his lap, question in- "Do you know where you are?"

"I'm.... not at the office at least." Words unbidden flowed as I met his gaze again. And that look! Again, it just looked....

Patient?

"No. No you most certainly are not. You are... well, do you remember what happened?" A more pensive look. Looking for something? Questioning? No, he looks more-

"I mean, there it was on break? So... I got a drink. From the vending machine." Tilting my head, I can't help but look back confused. Here I am with.... a Satyr? And they are asking about- my drink?

I'm still holding it.

Cold, crackling. Faintly fizzy with citrus. Well, artificial citrus. The only scent I can place in the room.

Sip...

Taste is the same too.

".... I thought I hadn't gotten it?"

"You hadn't." His words were clear. Crisp now as I refocused on him. Caffeine free my drink might be, but too full of sugars for that to make a big difference. "You seemed... tense. Something familiar might have helped you. Is it alright?" That same smile again.

"I.... Yeah? It's just something to drink. Are-" Leaning forward, I can't help but let my eyes drift back up again. "Are your... antlers... real?"

That same stupid smile! Gosh darn it why was... Oh! It was.... Paternal! That sorta... silly little... nothing! That grin! Where they know something and are trying to say it. But you just don't.... He was...

... Hey!

"Yes, they are real." With a practiced motion, his hand swung on up, brushing about those bony bases, each finger careful, manicured to perfection as he brushed about and-

"Where's the horn bed?"

"I'm sorry?" Confusion, the same look as my own shone on his face.

Already to my feet, moving over I can't but squint back to his scalp. Each antler perfectly drawn up from his scalp, hair branching and falling about, a roguish look given to him as I can't help but....

"Antlers. They... The horn bed." Babbling a bit, my hands drifted up to my own head, just patting. Reaching like I could simply pluck the words from my mind.

"They... antlers are the core of it, but each one is supposed to be surrounded, by the little... nodules. Buds from the horn bed where it just sorta.... tries to grow and can't. But it just..." Doesn't have any? How? Why? That... Did he sand them down? Did that hurt? Or?

"Oh. I simply wanted them to grow as such, so they did."

".... What?"