Outfox Stories: stories to read and AI adventures to play, no account needed
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Chapter by
redactedthegreat · 10 Mar 2023 -
These perfumes can let you live another person's memory, but overexposure can lead to permanent changes.
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Smell is the sense most closely linked to memory. I remember reading that somewhere. What I don't understand is how a smell could remind you of someone else's memory.
That's what the new perfume shop advertised: smell-able memories. They called them recreational fragrance. I had trouble believing anything like that could work, but I was too curious to write it off.
Now I was standing in line outside, waiting with all the other curious people in town. The shop was packed, but everyone leaving looked like they'd just had the time of their lives.
Finally I made it to the front of the line, and a friendly sales associate welcomed me in. "Good afternoon sir, have you tried one of our fragrances before?" They asked me, leading me to a wall lined with little glass bottles, each one labelled with a different name in a unique font.
"No." I said, keeping close so they could hear me through the crowded shop. "I just learned this place exists."
"Then you've got to start with a novel sample. Have you ever climbed a mountain?" The associate asked, scanning the wall for something.
I was a little confused. "No, no mountains. What do you mean by a 'novel sample'?"
"An experience you've never had before that you can try as a sample. Novel experiences are very popular, but people also like fragrances for memories. I always suggest new customers start with a novel one, just to clear any doubts." They explained, without pausing their investigation. "Ah, here it is."
I followed them to the end of the wall where there was another line of people waiting to try samples.
"I'm going to leave you here, there will be someone to help you when you get to the front of the line." They handed me a small glass vial with a little drawing of someone standing at the top of a mountain in the background of the label. 'Summit' read the text, in a bold font.
At the end of the line another associate helped prepare a smelling sample from a single drop of the fragrance. I held it to my nose and took a deep breath.
It smelled exactly like the top of the mountain, it took me right back to the moment. I could vividly remember cresting the peak, looking down on the landscape below, feeling the snow sting my face. The …
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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…