After a few minutes of aimlessly wandering around the blocks in the sweltering sumr heat, the group was pretty sure they needed to get sowhere inside. ‘2018 is a stupidly hot year,’ John thought, checking his phone to find out the exact temperature. 33 degrees Celsius in a coastal city. ‘I thought the ocean was supposed to moderate the weather,’ he grumbled, then wondered how bad it had to be inland. Going with the middle of the country, he looked for the current weather in Nebraska. It was colder. John was offended.
His annoyance with the fact that weather was nicer elsewhere aside, he still needed shade. By pure chance, the group stumbled by a music shop and decided that was as good a place to check out as anywhere else. It was a family run shop of the variety that was already hard to manoeuvre with just four custors in the room at the sa ti.
This was only partly owed to the size of the shop, the majority of difficulties ca from the absurd amount of rchandise stacked onto shelves and isles. A store clerk smiled and waved when they answered, but otherwise left them to their own devices as they checked out the items on display. She was a brunette of average looks who seed content with her life and with reading things on her phone behind the counter for most of the day. John found that admirable, particularly because this ant they could get along splendidly without actually knowing each other.
Despite its cramped state, the shop was rather well sorted, with areas dedicated to different kinds of instrunts. Primarily guitars, electric pianos and drum kits. Siena clicked her tongue, likely because she couldn’t show off. “No violins whatsoever.”
“Not quite true.” John pointed out and picked up a guide book for violins that stood among others for various instrunts. Waving it in her direction, he admitted, “I an, no physical violins, but maybe you can imagine things.”
“Given how fucking good she is at pretending she is so piece of hot ass and not hot garbage, I think Shadow the Edgehog here can almost imagine a violin into existence,” Eliza pointed out, while Undine pressed a key on one of the pianos and drew her hand back when a high sound rung through the room.
Siena just chuckled at the insult, as if it was below her to answer, which caused the blood mage to hiss and John to follow the entire thing with bemusent. Those three had a much more aggressive friendship than most other people John knew. Not in the physical sense, tra and Salamander took the cake there, but when it ca to throwing word shivs at each other.
Even Undine was caught up in that. “You are both walking insecurities.”
“I am feeling very secure.” Siena smirked. “But if I tell you you are wrong, you are telling I am deflecting, and if I tell you are right, you are just going to claim you are absolutely right.”
“That is how the pitfall goes,” Undine admitted.
“Also,” Eliza growled, “YOU don’t get to tell who is fucking insecure!”
“A viewer doesn’t have to know how to run perfectly themself to tell an athlete they need to jump when trying to win at hurdling,” Undine pushed back.
“Why are you even fighting?” John wondered, although he knew the answer.
“Because it’s entertaining.” Siena walked by her summoner and ran a finger over his chin. “A lot more entertaining than agreeing all the ti, at least.”
“Also, let’s not forget what happens when Siena tries to help people,” the pretty little psycho spoke up and gestured at Undine.
In her singing voice, the abysstide elental said, “It wasn’t a total disaster.”
“I disagree vehently,” John spoke up, but didn’t go into detail thanks to the clerk being around. Instead, he looked to the moonshade elental that now passed him. For a mont, genuine regret hushed over her face, then the amount of ti that laid between then and now put a considerable ease on the emotion.
“You should get so new insults already, that one is boring ,” she stated in a sharp tone, tossing so hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, I am sorry, star-queen MacMoonshit.” Eliza threw herself down on a stool that was likely ant for people that wanted to test so of the guitars. “Did you suddenly get better at helping people? Do I need to remind you of two weeks ago at the candle store?!”
The moonshade elental visibly shrunk back, looked over to John and hastily let out a clear, “No.”
John perked up, he had no idea what this was about and the reaction only made him want to hear this more. “Do tell what happened!” he demanded. Siena hissed and Eliza started to tell the story.
“So, we went out to buy a gift for Salamander, because we are good fellow submissive gal pals and all that shit,” Eliza started, already grinning ear to ear. “Since we had absolutely no fucking clue what to get, we decided to just go to the concrete tube place. After like thirty minutes, we found that candle store and were like ‘Sally likes to burn things, so that shit will do’ and went in. Turns out, there was so elderly fucker already in there, unable to decide whether he wanted to have a yellow or a beige candle. Siena then… hihiaahahaha… Siena… hehehehe…”
Eliza broke out into loud laughter and, no matter how often she tried to continue the story, couldn’t control herself. Only by desperately holding onto the stool was she even able to remain seated. Her upper body shook with spasms while her insane cackling ran its course.
“Siena,” Undine picked up where Eliza left off, “decided that she wanted to help the guy. This ant that she attempted to have a dialogue in which she identified the problem that the elderly man had and then suggested so solutions. Correction: she only tried to get to the second part.”
“IT WAS LIKE A SPONGEBOB SCENE!” Eliza scread past her laughter, and spoke in two different voices, one codically oversexualized, the other that of sobody who belonged in an old folks ho, “So, why is it important which of these two shades your long, thick candle is? – I like both of them. – Yes, I also like it long and thick, but what about the shades of the candle? – I want both – Can you afford both? – Yes – Then maybe you should get both? – No, I have to decide which one I want. – Can’t you store both of them in your deep, deep closet at ho? – No, no, I totally can, big-titted lady, but the issue is deciding which candle I want. – Do you only need the one? – No, I co here every month to get a new one. – So, couldn’t you get hooked up with coc- I an candles for the next two months? – That does make sense to – So you can buy both and the problem is solved, right? – No, no, young lady, I only buy one of the two shades.” Eliza again started laughing uncontrollably, this ti falling off and landing on the floor, repeatedly slapping the carpet.
John looked to Undine for corrections. “Largely accurate,” the abysstide elental only said.
“No way,” the Gar snorted.
“It went on for 20 minutes,” Siena hissed, clearly pissed off and embarrassed at the sa ti. “We got kicked out of the store afterwards!”
“Yeah, because you lost control and knocked over a complete display!” Eliza shouted, still amused beyond anything.
John would have been laughing a lot as well if he hadn’t had to quickly put an arm around Siena’s shoulder and drag her a bit to the side. “Tail,” he whispered, while emphasizing the word with his mind. The prehensile, over a tre-long thing was already dangerous while moving over the walkway, but at least there was a lot of plausible deniability when a lot of people were moving about.
The way it slithered about behind the worked-up shadow spirit, sothing John could see thanks to his lenses, was more than a bit dangerous. One accidental swoop and she could send a whole instrunt flying in a way that gravity could not explain. Doubtlessly, this was exactly how the display had gotten wrecked in the story.
The tail froze mid-movent and Siena curved it up behind her in a way that John doubted was particularly pleasant. It was effective, but it would probably beco tireso after a while, like squeezing through a tight space with both arms raised.
“Haaaa…. Haaaaa…” Eliza managed to get off the floor, dragging herself back onto the stool. “The point is, Siena, you’re a fucking social retard, so I can keep saying you are for as long as you keep making that mistake.”
“I will make you squirm tonight,” the shadow spirit threatened.
“Co at , bubble butt,” the blood mage retorted. Which Siena did. She closed the distance with three large strides, then the two made out for so reason. It had been clear before what was ant with squirming, but now it was abundantly so.
John glanced over to the clerk, still unbothered and just sitting there. A really relaxed mundane person, as Observe testified. ‘People really co in all shapes and sizes,’ the Gar thought, walking up to Undine and putting a hand on her butt. He hadn’t thought about it for a second, his hand had just felt empty.
Undine put her arms around his midriff and humd happily. “Siena.” The addressed stopped dominating Eliza with her tongue once the lodic voice reached her ears. “We should keep that for later.”
“I guess,” the shadow spirit agreed and straightened back up, looking around. “Still no violins though. I wonder what it’s like to have a second one.”
“No way to find that out here,” John shrugged, “but maybe there’s another interesting instrunt?” He looked to the clerk. “We can test the display pieces, right?” He only got a thumbs-up and decided to lead by example. He knew no songs for piano and had no idea how to find his way around a guitar, so the only really available choice was the drum kit. He liked to imagine he had at least a bit of a sense for rhythm.
He grabbed the two sticks and hit the drums in front of him for a little bit. He imdiately knew he was doing sothing wrong. Even though his speed and power, as well as control over both of them, was superhuman, what he did sounded powerless compared to a real drumr. He also couldn’t get the movents to flow correctly. Without the technique, even a mundane person was better than this than the Gar was.
‘Wonder how long I would have to try until Gaia decides I deserve a Skill,’ John thought, then looked at his girls. “Hey, if I’m making a fool out of myself here, you can at least follow suit!” he declared.
“But it’s so much more satisfying to see you being an idiot,” Siena sighed while walking up to a guitar. “I can apply so fingering knowledge from other tasks, I am sure,” she humd, while trying a few grips and notes. She seed unhappy with the result. “Undine, can you give a C?”
She could; the disguised sli opened her mouth and produced a singular, steady tone that lasted for a few seconds, before she closed her mouth. “Like that?”
“I ant on the piano, but feel free to show off that you know what to do with that pretty mouth of yours,” Siena mused and gently turned one of the knobs at the end of the guitar. A few repetitions of this later and they did sothing like jamming together. The exact way this worked was that John discarded the sticks and went for a basic hand drum instead, working a very basic beat, Siena played the guitar with a modicum of success, and Undine sung with the brilliance of the starlit night in the days before electricity.
The level of skill was very unequally distributed.
“The days run past and we run to the last. Chase what may be – realize what is and create a world from both of it,” Undine’s voice ford so very basic lyrics. Things that sounded good and inspirational but were actually quite flat and used because it ca to mind so easily.
Eliza just sat at the side for a little while. “Musical talent is un-fucking-fair!” she complained and caused them to stop for the mont.
“Implying I have that,” John laughed and put the drum down. “Why don’t you try sothing?”
“Because I can’t, I’m a useless bitch without any artistic talent!”
“Eliza, I have seen your paintings,” John stated and crossed his arms. “Please don’t insult the tens of thousands of artists worse than you like that. You draw beautiful things.”
“No!” Eliza exclaid, then slowly shrunk down as three people stared her down. “Maybe!” she conceded. “I still can’t sing for shit though!”
“You can rap decently,” Siena pushed against that as well.
“No, I can’t, shut up,” Eliza grumbled and shifted uncomfortably on the stool. The complints were stressing her for so reason. “Fuck you, stop liking ! I’m big fucking trash!”
“That’s not possible,” John sighed and walked over. “You’re too adorable. Co here.”
“No… noooooo,” she weakly complained as John embraced her, pulled her up, and gave her an intense squeeze. First in the ‘tight hug’ sense, then in the ‘touching her butt’ sense. “Don’t give what I want, you will make even more needy!” the blood mage warned.
“I think that ship has sailed,” the Gar said and hugged her so more.
They continued to test so instrunts. John in a purely joking fashion, while Siena and Undine actually browsed through the display with genuine interest. By the end, both of them wanted new instrunts. While Siena got a guitar and everything needed to transport it right there, Undine had to hold off on buying a piano. They COULD have gotten it in this store, but there was no easy way to get it back ho. Better to just order it via the Abyss Auction later.
No matter the amount of prodding, Eliza couldn’t be brought to actually display those rapping abilities she was supposed to have. John was left curious on that front, but there were worse things to not know. ‘I’m going to hear it eventually,’ he thought as they headed for the exit. Given enough ti, he was bound to catch the pretty little psycho on a day she was in a sharing mood. He planned to spend a very, very long ti with Eliza going forwards. Statistically, he was bound to succeed at so point.
They left the small shop and were back on the street.
“Music is so much fucking better than painting,” the (currently) brunette exclaid while they searched for so place to eat a little bit at. “I can’t carry a bunch of fucking paintings with to show off whenever. All you need for music is an instrunt,” she looked at Undine, “if even that.”
“Music is fleeting,” the abysstide elental’s voice resonated with her disagreent. “No song can ever be made again. Pictures are forever, a finished thing that the world can profit from forever.”
“I am pretty fucking certain you can write notes and lyrics down, goo brain.”
“That’s not the sa.” Undine shook her head. “Every performance is unique, every interpretation new. Music is fleeting, a specific mont in ti you can never get back. Paintings carry forwards into the future and maintain their aning.” The water spirit brushed so of her black hair behind her ear. “They have more value than my voice could ever have.”
“Also, Eliza,” Siena chid in, “you can just pick up a pencil and a sketchbook, not that much different.” Crossing her arms under her boobs, she pushed them up and made yet another man that was walking by them lose focus on what was ahead of him. To John’s satisfaction, that guy ran into a lamppost. “Although I think the sweet caress of music has more value than your skills.”
“Are all three of you forgetting that the internet is a thing?” John asked. “Paintings can be recreated a thousand tis and one certain music number can be recorded and spread as often as wanted.”
“A close, but imperfect, copy of the real,” Undine stated.
“Yeah, that shit isn’t the sa.”
“What those two said.”
“I am not saying the recording is as good as the original, just that your rules of reach are antiquated,” John clarified.
They continued to have disagreents about this for the entire date.
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