Outfox Stories: stories to read and AI adventures to play, no account needed
-
Chapter by
azn8573 · 27 Aug 2026 -
Mark gets sent on a trip to Europe for work and has to deal with another bout of boredom.
-
Chapter 6
The flight to Europe was only two hours in and Mark was already bored out of his mind.
Economy seats. Recycled air. A movie he had already seen. The low drone of engines that never quite settled into white noise. He had deliberately chosen a long-haul red-eye for the unstructured time, hoping the monotony would coax the power back the same way the empty weekend had. So far it had only given him a stiff neck and the slow, restless itch under his skin.
He watched a flight attendant move down the aisle with the drink cart, mid-twenties, neat bun, professional smile that never reached her eyes. When she paused beside his row to hand a ginger ale to the man across the aisle, Mark reached.
The transfer was instant.
Suddenly he was standing in the narrow galley space between carts, weight balanced on sensible black heels, the starched blouse and pencil skirt feeling crisp against unfamiliar skin. The attendant’s name tag read Jordan. Her memories supplied the rest in a quiet rush: three years on this route, tired feet, the private tally of which passengers were difficult and which were invisible.
Mark glanced down the aisle at himself, slumped in 28C, eyes half-closed in feigned sleep. A small, wicked impulse took him. He felt Jordan's neat, professional hands respond as he uncapped a miniature bottle of whiskey and poured it into a plastic cup, the liquid catching the dim cabin light. He walked the short distance back down the aisle, her sensible pumps clicking softly against the floor, and set the cup on the tray table in front of his original body.
"Compliments of the crew," he said in Jordan's polite voice, but he let a thread of something warmer slip into it—a playful, almost private edge that made his own reflection in the window seat look up with a hopeful, drowsy curiosity.
His own body met Jordan's borrowed gaze. Mark felt it from both sides at once: the cool, professional set of Jordan's features above him, and the slow, lopsided smile spreading across his own face down in the seat. Jordan's hand reached out, fingertips brushing the sleeve of his shirt in a tiny, deliberate touch that lingered just a moment too long. Mark felt his own pulse quicken in his chest, and felt a subtle …
This content is age-restricted
Sign up to verify your age.
No more chapters.
More like this
Colm's party splits one silver a month. So when he overhears about a dungeon nobody's logged yet, he doesn't wait for the rest of his crew. He grabs the party healer, Agnes, burns their emergency teleport scroll, and goes in.
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…