Outfox Stories: stories to read and AI adventures to play, no account needed
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Chapter by
EzraWritesThings · 23 May 2024 -
The night at the bar.
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Tuesday nights are typically meant to be spent at home. Usually couples are snuggled up in bed, watching television or mindlessly scrolling through TikTok dances and misinformation. But, not these two. For this couple in particular, this is their Friday night.
Not having regular weekends off has never been a big deal. But for Taylor McGinnity, it does tend to make the bar pickings a little slim. While he’s at the bar, killing back shots of Jack Daniels, his lovely girlfriend Mimi Choi is indeed at home. In her pajamas, watching Shameless, and eating Cheetos.
Bars have never been her scene. And it’s much better if he does this on his own. That’s how their makeshift midweek weekend tends to go. Neither of them mind. Especially not Taylor.
It had took him some time to adapt to it. To the dynamic of Mimi enjoying him fucking other women. The first few times, it had felt like an affair. It’s never been in his heart to be unfaithful, no, he genuinely loves Mimi. While he was adapting, she was enjoying it a lot more than he had been. Thankfully, that’s changed now. The adaptation period has worn off.
Some may say Taylor’s haircut belongs more in the seventies than it does in this decade. Long, choppy, bangs, all black, teased with hairspray. If you look at him in the right light, he looks akin to a pre-heroin Keith Richards. That’s what he’s always been told, anyway. Sporting a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans, he’s been looking around the bar as discretely as possible.
He carries with him the mystique of an era already gone. Which Taylor has found to be something that works in his favor. Women love musicians. Especially musicians in bars. Typically, he wouldn’t drink this much. But the scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne and the light aroma of his shampoo is almost pheromonal. If he wants tonight to be successful, he has to agree on all the help he can get.
The music is flowing from a jukebox, something new and on the borderline of pop-punk. Not his thing, but he isn’t paying too much attention.
Not to the music, anyway.
A lot of this is a social nightmare. But he manages it somehow, having adapted, and knowing who and what he is doing this for. He likes to make Mimi happy. He …
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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…