D.D. Ward is Writing

“Okay, real talk. How do I know which way is north? Are we supposed to have a compass as well?” I asked, staring at the map in frustration.  Lynn clucked her tongue, “Well the ocean is to the west. So use that.” “Okay, great.” I paused, “Which way is the ocean?” Lynn rolled her eyes, “It’s over-” she paused and looked around. She kept turning. She began humming to herself. “This is impossible. I know Octavo City better than I know Puerto Maritimo. And I grew up in Puerto Maritimo.” “Yeah,” I nodded, “but the in-game navigation system was top down. Now we’re in the thick of it.” “Gods, that’s true.” “You notice we curse like Yssians now? In fact I think I did it right away,” I said. “Yssians are polytheists, so I say: ‘gods’ instead of: ‘oh god.’ I already knew they did this from watching you play, but it’s weird that I just picked it up automatically, isn’t it?” “Now that you mention it, yeah. It is weird. I already did it, because I love the game.” “Which is weird.” “It is not!”...

“Can you believe that they have swimsuits in Ossedei? That’s flat out unbelievable.” Lynn said as we both stretched out in beach recliners. The beach was busy. Families and couples sat on towels as far as I could see in either direction down the beach. The sand was dark gray and fine as powder. The sky rose clear and vast above us, as the sun stared down. Above our heads, a beach umbrella kept us in the shade.  “I can’t believe anything about this beach,” I said. “Ossedei is basically Regency England with flourishes from France of the same era. And then the beach equipment looks positively modern, just with more lace and frills. That said, I’m not complaining.” We both scanned the beach to note the large number of young women wearing bikinis. Lynn nodded, “It does seem the sort of place where you would be happy.” “I’m allowed to look,” I objected. “Indeed beloved,” My fiancée Fiona stepped past us carrying a towel. She wore a royal blue one piece bathing suit with a V-neck so deep ...

I sat in The Lady of Refreshment coffee shop and waited for Lynn. A pair of men one table over  were locked in an embrace and ignoring their mochas cooling beside them. A pair of women were staring into each other’s eyes and giggling about something two tables over. The rest of the people in the coffee shop did not seem to notice the public displays of affection going on right next to them.  I cast my mind back from the world of Ossedei to Earth. I had lived my whole life in Santa Porta. The little coastal Californian town was progressive as American small towns went. But even in Santa Porta, the elderly couple on my left would have been giving either gay couple serious side eye.  Here? Nothing. I knew that in Ossedei, most countries had no issues with homophobia. But the degree to which gay and lesbian displays of affection generated no response surprised me. And even more, the number of people in queer relationships astonished me. I did a mental head count and concluded...

The women stared at each other, the single purification potion sitting between them. They both needed it. A half dose would do neither of them any good. Amber needed the potion or she would transform. Theresa needed the potion or she would die.  “I’m not taking the potion.” Amber shook her head. “I’m not dying. You are.” “Becoming an infected werewolf might as well mean death.” Theresa said, and coughed a bloody cough into her hand again. “I will not let the lady I have shepherded from childhood to womanhood become a beast. I will not let you become a pariah shunned by society. You will not end up like these ones did.” Amber shook her head again, “I refuse. I am not letting you die.” They stared at each other, neither blinking. Amber felt her ears itching, and noticed that she could hear Theresa’s heartbeat now. She flicked her ears to deal with the itch. Then she realized her ears had grown long and pointed.  Theresa grimaced. “I can’t force this potion down your throat witho...