Taking the last drink of his lemonade, Coney smiled and left the gated area, closing the gate behind him. It wasn’t easy to get his paws up and through the bars to lock the gate, but when that was done the church yard was as secure as it ever was. He’d left the lemonade cup and sickle on the bench, but kept her note.

“I love collecting things in games.” He said, looking up at the red dot. “And fuck, I don’t want to edit this down. The majority of my game session was chores, and not even in the grinding way. I literally did yard work!” He sighed. “Well, I hope you guys liked the lore, because that’s all I’ve got to offer you.”

Looking up at the sun, Coney realized he should hop off. “Maybe later I’ll show you something more interesting next time…” He said, sighing. “Seriously, maybe I was better off not recording this at all. I don’t know why I keep accepting menial quests. It just feels so real, like these are things I actually need to do… my real chores.”

Coney sighed and walked back to the dorm. He’d not even gone to the library like he planned, but frankly he was exhausted. He hoped that next time he could do so. At least today he’d feel better, not leaving from somewhere random. He tried to walk up to his room, but his sensitive nose smelled some food.

“Well, I suppose I might as well.” Walking down to where he smelled the food there was a large group of robed folks like him, sitting in a long hall. To one side there was a pot and a pile of clay bowls. Everyone went over and served themselves. Coney stood in line and did the same.

“Uhg. What’s the rat doing here?” He heard someone say in a stage whisper. Clearly they weren't trying to be discreet, just acting the part. “I mean come on, animals should eat outside.”

“Well, he is kinda cute. I could give him a treat. Maybe some peanut butter…” A higher pitched voice said. He realized this was a girl, and he started to look around to find her as he hadn’t seen any girls around before. Before he could, what she said struck him.

“That’s dog Gemma.” Another voice said, giggling. Coney looked back to the line, keeping his head straight onward. “Besides, doesn’t that break your vows.”

“No, my vows only matter when there’s true love. Passion is on the table.” Gemma said.

“Look at it, it’s blushing.” The first voice said. It was clearly a masculine one, but Coney kept his face from looking as he got to the front of the line instead of trying to find its source. “It shouldn’t be in polite society.”

“I don’t know why a creature like that was allowed to even join the service.” Another said, he had a much deeper voice. “I mean, sure, the gods aren't going to discriminate or anything but… aren't beast-kin monsters?”

Coney looked around, trying to find some secluded space to sit. There wasn’t any where. Half the room was staring at him, and the rest were making a point to ignore him. Without any other option he walked over to a wall and leaned against it, beginning to eat his food quickly.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“At least it knows its place.” The first voice said. “I mean, come on, why should we have to sit next to someone with such poor table manners.”

“It’s like trying to eat with someone from an Orc Tribe. They need so much just because their mouths are so weird. They make such a mess, they need a bib.” This voice was another one, one he hadn’t heard. He actually was able to get a good look from his current perspective, and saw that it was the red haired boy he’d spoken to this morning.

Coney made sure to eat quickly but cleanly, not making a mess or spilling anything. In the end he failed, as he tried to drink the last of the soup’s broth, and some of it got into the fur of his muzzle. Whipping his face with his napkin he put all his dishes in a receptacle for them and basically ran away.

When he got out of there he was breathing hard, his heart beating. He’d not been so embarrassed since high school. Sure, this was some weird form of racism, but he’d experienced his own problems. This reaction was bringing back bad memories. “Yeah, that’s all for tonight gang.” Coney said, walking up the stairs. “Computer, stop recording.” When he got to his room he lay on his bed, still in his robes. “Computer, close Plastikos. Now.” He said, heart racing.

---

Quickly he took off his helmet, sighing at the realization that Plastikos was a real world, not just a fantasy where everything was good.

When he got done he quickly went downstairs. “I need to go on a walk.” He told his mom, grabbing his headphones and walking out the door. He couldn’t stand being inside any more, it felt like his head was spinning. He really needed to just go to the park.

Slowly he calmed down as he started to listen to audiobooks, laughing as he listened to older books he’d listened to a hundred times before . As the idea of the apocalypse came and went, he was happy to listen to their words. It was wonderful.

Finally, as though his mussels were loose, he was able to relax and sit on a bench. He watched the water ripple as he considered turning around and going on a subway… somewhere. Instead, after twenty minutes, Sasha got up. Finally feeling at home in his own skin.

[Rasselbock] - I’m not feeling so good.

As he waited for anyone to respond to his message he began editing his video, cutting down everything from his main chores and cutting those into time lapses. It was easier to see in that way, as if they were more interesting than they were.

[Fluffle] - What’s wrong?! Are you okay?

[Rasselbock] - The game is pretty intense. I think I had a panic attack. I don’t quite know.

[Fluffle] - Are you okay now?

[Rasselbock] - Yeah, I’m editing my game footage.

[Fluffle] - Maybe you shouldn’t be doing that…

[Rasselbock] - Nah, it’s fine. I need to make sure that part has a TW. I don’t want other people to get hurt.

[Fluffle] - Okay, but I’ll be here. Talk to me for a while.

For the rest of the day Sasha edited, and calmed down. He ate, he drank water, and he felt better… Maybe he should take a break…