3.04 – Intermission, Introspection
It was pretty inconvenient being spat out in a random pocket-realm after finishing a shard. As far as ‘enjoyable game mechanics’, Zoey would give that one a zero out of ten.
The good news was, the exit-realm was usually in the vicinity of the entrance-realm, for a loose sense of ‘vicinity’. As in, it wasn’t likely they’d be spat out halfway across the world—though apparently possible—but rather a short distance, perhaps a half-day travel from where they’d started, on average.
Fitting to that norm, the trip back to Treyhull took about seven hours. They set off early, just after eating breakfast, apanied by a golem-woman who wasn’t a tenth as talkative as Zoey and Rosalie’s first guide.
Which was fine. They made conversations themselves, the tall, bulky woman setting a quick pace, with the three of them trailing behind at enough of a distance to have privacy in what they were saying. Zoey appreciated theck of mindless chatter, honestly.
The trip was less exhausting than the first. Zoey still needed to lean on stamina potions to some extent, but not half as much. Her feet got sore slower, as did her muscles. Her progression through advancements—to second, now, technically—hade with benefits. Though her ss wasn’t focused on physical durability or speed, she’d grown stronger passively. To a lesser degree than a ss like Rosalie’s or Delta’s would’ve provided, but noticeable nheless.
Plus, a mundane sort of growth. She’d been on her feet constantly since arriving in this world, and partaking in all sorts of … physical activities. She’d grown passively more durable, and acquired better mental endurance, too—she could push her aching muscles to the back of her mind.
In the meantime—during the walk—Rosalie and Delta haggled how the loot split would work. While final decisions couldn’t be made until they’d had the items appraised—both for price, and effects—they could still work out plenty of the details in advance.
Wasn’t that hard, even, since Rosalie kept her stance from earlier: she didn’t care about low-level loot, beyond selling it for supplies. By the sounds of it, she had enough coin on her person that wasn’t particrly concerning, either.
And, knowing Rosalie’s social status—even if not specifically—money wouldn’t be a problem for her once she returned to her family. So the whole thing, Rosalie didn’t care much for.
She still bickered and haggled, but Zoey got the sense she did it to annoy Delta, and out of an ingrained need to ‘stay even’—to get what she felt she was deserved.
Zoey’s and Delta’s splitting of loot was the trickier one. Initially, Delta had imed she cared about practical loot, and that Zoey could have all the lewd items. Unfortunately, she seemed to be reversing that opinion.
Which was good news and bad news. Good news because Delta taking a higher interest in sex items was … well, Zoey wasn’t going toin. Bad news, because Zoey wanted all of the lewd items; pretty much all of them seemed fun in some way or another. It was implied she and Delta would share them as avable, but ‘ownership’ status needed to be doled out.
Zoey hoped Delta stuck with the team for … well, ever? Until the world was saved, whatever that meant? … but Delta was more practical than to take her continued presence in the party for granted. So, well-defined bounds of who owned what, should the party split. It looked like they’d be sticking together for the short term—maybe even medium and long term—but anything could happen.
Zoey got all the alchemy reagents. She also got the panties of holding. Delta had wanted them too, because they worked for a pussy as much as a cock, but Zoey actually <em>needed </em>them; they were convenient for when Zoey had to keep her secret … well, a secret.
And sure, she’d made the previous determination to keep her secret ‘on disy’ on the off-chance someone saw and took interest, but for situations where Zoey legitimately did want to keep her equipment down-low on the down-low … say, for example, when Zoey finally met with Rosalie’s family … the panties became less convenient and more a necessity.
So Delta parted with them reluctantly. She did, however, extract a promise that Delta got to ‘have Zoey’s cock’ when they’d been identified and dered safe by Fe. She was … surprisingly tight-lipped on what, exactly, she nned to do with it. Knowing Delta, Zoey was about as scared as she was excited. Zoey suspected ‘taking it around town’ to use as a living strap-on might be the smallest of ns Delta had.
Rosalie hadn’t been pleased about that—about not getting to be the ‘Keeper of the Cock’—but Delta had sneered that Rosalie ‘would get her turn, too, blondie, so chill out’. Rosalie seemed satisfied by that, which, uh, also concerned Zoey, honestly. Not as much as Delta … but still concerned her.
Not that Zoey was <emining, </em>per se. Just, a bit conflicted about what ‘free use’ of Zoey’s cock meant, without her being present. Or a two mile radius, even.
Much as Zoey hadn’t wanted to, she’d needed to share. Delta got some of the loot. Namely, the Ink of Empowering Degradation, and the Mirror of Deep Echoes. Thest, of course, being the crown-jewel. Delta had been willing to trade almost everything else for it.
Her reasoning had been pretty simple. It’d been something she’d already exined, the moment she’d seen the item.
It was a way for Delta to have a cock.
Zoey was a bit amused at how much Delta had enjoyed being in Zoey’s body. Maybe even more than Zoey, who had been a bit slow to warm up to the idea, Delta liked having something extra between her legs. The Mirror, which let her take someone’s body, meant she’d have a way to do that, through Zoey.
Or turn into a guy, Zoey guessed. Would Delta do that? Zoey was pretty sure she’d rather just take Zoey’s body. She had … a lot more down there than most did, anyway. And both parts, not just one—which she suspected Delta would prefer. Zoey’s disorientation in having both parts was lessening, but hadn’t fully gone away.
After the discussions on loot—because that could onlyst so long, considering a seven hour trek through multiple pocket-dimensions—their talks turned more practical. They hammered out the details behind their schedules, how they would handle their return, and theing ‘break’.
Exact details depended on whether Delta had an easy contact through her friend—Madeline—to train Zoey. Rosalie had questioned Delta whether Maddy was a ‘sufficient tutor’, and Delta had assured Rosalie she was skilled, but more importantly, ‘a sweet girl, and trustworthy’. Rosalie had seemed briefly hesitant, but while she didn’t get along with Delta, she respected her professional opinion—hence why she’d teamed with Delta in the first ce.
Speaking of Rosalie and Delta’s ‘getting along’, the friction seemed to be easing up. Zoey doubted they’d ever be all smiles and bright-and-gooey with each other, but they were falling into a type of friendly bickering, rather than hostile. Like siblings, almost, though that was definitely not a good way to define the dynamic, now that Zoey put more than a second of thought into it. Definitely not sisters.
Because, Zoey noted, Rosalie’s eyes were catching on Delta’s hips, ass, and bust with <em>far </em>greater frequency than before. Rosalie’s fucking of the fox-eared girl’s body, through Zoey, had done a great job at warming her up to Delta—or at least her body. Which Zoey counted as a big win for team dynamics. And more selfishly, a big win for herself. Zoey couldn’t wait for the first time they all decided to be together, and not in a ‘watch each other while the other two go at it’ way.
During the lulls—the long breaks in which they simply trudged forward, not speaking—Zoey did some mental nning for her date with Rosalie.
It was a big event. A world-ending event. Something that had Zoey’s stomach clenching whenever she thought about it. How in the world was Zoey supposed toe up with something that could impress <em>Rosalie? </em>Zoey wasn’t an anxious person by nature, but the idea of taking Rosalie out on a date had her sweating.
Rosalie was … well, possibly this world’s version of royalty. Or, probably not that intense. Delta’d simply said she suspected high-ranking guild officers, so, shit, Zoey didn’t know—a senator’s daughter, to use an Earth equivalent she could understand?
Zoey was just some girl.
Or, she guessed not really, anymore. She was the chosen pdin of the goddess of sex. Not ‘some girl’. But she still felt that way.
Rosalie was just—so amazing. It would be impossible toe up with a date that could show what Zoey felt.
Slowly, Zoey came to the conclusion trying too hard was exactly how things would go wrong. And trying too hard, trying to take Rosalie somewhere fancy, ssy, and live up to her status—Zoey shouldn’t. Couldn’t, even. Rosalie had grown up with old money, status, and under excruciating standards.
What Zoey <em>should </em>give to her was a normal date.
A pic at the park. Feed the ducks, bask in the sun and the fresh air—something low-key, rxing, without expectations. Maybe Zoey would bring along a poetry book and read sappy stanzas to her, see how long Rosalie could keep a straight face, thinking Zoey was serious. Hell, knowing Rosalie … it might work. Either way, the blush it would draw out would be amazing.
But something organic. Something neither of them had to pretend for. She thought Rosalie would appreciate that. And they had something, didn’t they? Just being around each other, naturally? Forcing things would be how it went wrong.
Rosalie had said ‘a girlfriend of hers would need to try her hardest’, and Zoey would. But not in a way that was contrived—that wasn’t Zoey. Zoey would put the work in, have a nice day nned, but it’d be something Rosalie’d never experienced: something calming, low-key, where she could breathe.
And that decided, Zoey was suddenly not that stressed.