Otherworld Girlboss Pervert

This dude's benefit of the doubt was running thin. Maple remembered she could talk to Thera from afar, and sent her a quick update on things along with their location. Just in case. As for Pat's offer, Maple changed the subject.

"What even is life clay?"

"Pretty valuable stuff, also called living clay. As you might expect, it's clay that's alive in some manner. Why and how is a mystery even for the best of us, but it has a variety of uses. It's 'trainable' to a degree, and in this case, would adapt to assist whatever is planted. You'd only use it for particularly special plants. Why, only the very best plant-mom would own a pot like this one."

He intentionally egged Emma on by the end, perhaps only for his own amusement, judging by his face. Emma surely knew that herself and was, partly, just being silly as she held up another note.

I will cry right now if you don't give it to me.

"Oh my. Resorting to threats, are we?"

Maple shook her head in disbelief, but she noticed that the pot did have a clump of prana embedded within the material. That wasn't too unusual on its own, as she'd noticed lots of things absorbed prana. But in those cases it acted like any other ambient energy in the air, and was 'loose'.

She nudged it and the life clay pot's prana was 'sticky', as if it were inside a person. She'd only be able to remove it if she exerted an insane amount of effort. That living boulder they'd crushed at the spa entrance may have been similar, but she hadn't looked closely due to the newness of her abilities and the rush they'd been in at the time.

"Why is it clay? Could, like, rocks have the same thing happen? Or dirt? Mud?"

Maple inquired sneakily, and shared a glance with Emma who seemed to understand what she was doing.

"Oh yes, lots of things can. Clay is simply the most useful for my profession. Living stone is more useful for [Mages]; with their runes, golems, and so on. It's also quite rare, but in a pinch can be turned into living sand, and then even mixed into mundane clay to make something only slightly inferior to the real stuff. Living metal is the rarest of all."

"Ah."

Maple nodded and sent a thought to Thera. She'd have discussed it with Emma if she could—she was the one with any kind of stake in all those rocks—but would settle for encouraging her if Thera thought it was a good idea.

"Quirky dude. Rocks might be valuable. Should we inquire further?"

"Go for it. I don't think Sylla's found any buyers yet. I could send her down to you with one."

"Standby."

"How much would living stone be worth?"

That conniving smile crept across the man's face again.

"Depends on a lot of factors. I reckon a fistful or two would cover the pot. Why, do you have some?"

"Uh..."

Maple tried to defer to Emma, but—damn. They really needed their own telepathy. She ended up giving Pat the side-eye while blatantly whispering into her ear.

"Thera didn't mind telling him. Said she could send Syll down with a sample. It's yours, so whatever you want to do."

Maple shrugged and let Emma, the master negotiator, take over. Emma began by amending her earlier offer with a polite smile.

One gold rock. Pretty please. My baby needs it.

"Do you truly have some?"

His eyes darted between them, waiting for an actual answer. He still had the truth stone in his hand. Emma shrugged, and rather than write a whole paragraph, gestured for Maple, her master interpreter, to explain.

"Uh, we have rocks that are alive. A-according to some kind of [Detect Life] spell? She does, anyway; they're hers. We aren't sure what they are yet. We could show you one, if you wanted."

Maple carefully avoided mentioning that most of the rocks were still sitting unclaimed in the middle of the woods. She really wasn't good at secrets, and being put on the spot like that made her uncomfortable. Pat's eccentric facade gave way to a more serious side.

"I see. That does sound like it. You have some on you?"

"No, but I can have a friend bring one down. Right now, I think. Uh, we have telepathy..."

"Oh, how queer. Yes, let's do that. We can have drinks in the meantime. You never did answer whether or not you were the Maple."

She'd intentionally ignored that question earlier, annoyed by her infamy. She sent a thought to Thera letting her know Sylla should come by, and Emma answered for Maple, nodding with a proud grin on her face.

The one and only!

"I'd love to hear the full story of that little event, if you don't mind telling it. I imagine you must have quite the levels under your belt. But first, what would you like to drink? I have tea, if you're boring. Or what I prefer—cacao."

"Cacao?"

Maple recognized the word, and her mood flipped in an instant. If it was what she thought it was—she hadn't found chocolate anywhere in this world—this entire outing would be worth it.

"Mhm. Little beans from a pod that get roasted and ground up for a hot drink. The flavor is difficult to describe. More bitter than tea, if you're opposed to that."

"Yess, cacao. Give."

"You're familiar with it? Excellent. This way, if you would."

Emma slapped her belly suggestively. Maple would have interpreted for her, but Pat already understood and laughed.

"Snacks? Of course."

Pat led them to a door and waved a hand toward it.

"Ladies first, as they say."

He jumped into a nearby pot before Maple fully opened it. Through the door was a small room with a table and a few shelves. He was already sitting at the table, and waved to them as they entered.

"But some would consider that an outdated practice. You both may help yourself—and something tells me I should specify this—to a reasonable amount of my snacks. But what would you like to drink? Feel free to peruse the limited selection of my break room."

He stared at Emma and gestured to a shelf along the wall, full of labeled tins containing tea and other herbs. Emma read over each one, taking her time to decide. With the tins were jars of dried fruit, nuts, and even cookies and scones.

Maple pulled out a chair and decided she'd just snack on whatever Emma chose, or whatever Pat offered. She mostly wanted the cacao. Hot chocolate.

On the table in front of Pat was an enchanted kettle for heating water, and three mugs. Even if he was somehow teleporting around with a Skill, there was no way he'd have had time to set that up in the second it took Maple to open the door.

Eccentric seemed to be the right word for him, and he was almost definitely a high level. Did that make him dangerous? He'd been able to tell Maple wasn't entirely human from a mere glance. The uncanny way he looked was also off-putting, and that conniving smile Maple tried to assume was unrelated to his intentions.

He seemed to assume she was equally high level, which was kind of funny. Even when she'd had any levels, the highest of them had barely been 10. Level 30 was considered the mark of competence here. If Maple had to translate it, 30 was equivalent to a bachelor's degree, while 20 might be around a high school degree.

As in, most people would have no issue reaching level 20 in their lifetime and most of those would go on to reach level 30. By this metric Maple had been a dabbling, mediocre [Slut] at best.

Her situation had been unique due to goddess interference, but she'd guess this [Verisimiltudinous Vesselcrafter] fellow was at least level 40. He just had a feel to him that said he was high level, especially if her hunch about his teleportation trick was right.

"You've asked me several times, but what are you exactly? How many, uh, twins do you have?"

"Oho, have you figured it out? I'd trade for that info, but I'm never able to resist showing off my abilities, am I? No, I'm not. I've earned my levels, so why shouldn't I be able to flaunt them? I am a human, but..."

He gestured for her to guess, and he had given them several hints. Several. Maple could relate to being unable to keep a secret, because she was resisting a certain urge herself. She'd do it, if her guess was correct.

"But these are all...vessels? Made of clay, or something?"

"Precisely! I would demonstrate by breaking off a finger, or what have you, but that gets annoying to repair time after time. And frankly, it's embarrassing how often I do that just to show off. Maybe if you were a cute boy, but alas. Grit, or no grit? For your cacao. That is to say, strained or not strained? They're soft little beans, ground up fine, but some don't like that regardless. I don't mind the grit."

He dumped some ground up cacao into his mug. It looked more like a very finely ground coffee, than cocoa powder. He filled it with hot water and a chocolate aroma more real than anything she could have in a lucid dream wafted out.

Emma came over to the table, holding a tin with her selection of tea. Maple thought for a second, and decided to trust Pat's taste.

"Grit's fine, I think. I haven't had it like this. Do you have any, um, chocolate? Cacao that's been ground into a paste and molded into a bar? I'm new to Syber, and can't find any anywhere."

"Hmm. Can't say I've heard of it before. Where's it from?"

He filled Maple's mug with cacao, and then filled a teapot for Emma. Emma's expression looked strained as she morphed her body.

"I don't know. Somewhere. Um, how about I show you a thing? As a trade for knowing about your—vessels?"

"Oh, certainly."

He waved for her to do whatever she was about to do, and Maple blushed a little. She raised her hands to the side of her face, palms out. After a second's hesitation, she made eyes appear on them, and then wiggled her fingers.

"Hah! Exquisite. I do wonder what you are, and what your class is. Truthfully, I've tried to [Appraise] you, but nothing comes back. Warded, obviously. Cute trick, nevertheless. And you as well."

Maple tried not to show her shock, but instead play along with his assumptions. She hadn't considered that people might use Skills or magic to discern her classes. She wasn't warded, though; she just had none at the moment.

Pat stared at Emma with even more interest. She'd morphed her face to look more masculine, square jaw and all. Her boobs receded, and she'd even given herself abs. She tilted her head up to Pat, and did a little pose.

Maple laughed because her first thought, for some reason, was of handsome Squidward. She'd never seen this shape of her girlfriend before, but it was hilarious. Not least of all because Pat seemed to actually like it. Emma held up a note for him.

Break a finger for me, bb. If it won't hurt.

"Oh, if I must. Here, keep it."

He snapped the pinky off of his left hand, and Maple winced from how disturbing that was to watch. He handed it to Emma who took the souvenir with a grin. She held her prize up for Maple to see and wiggled her eyebrows. Look what I've got.

There was no bone, blood, or anything, yet it looked exactly like a pinky finger on the outside. Maple laughed again and sipped on her hot cacao. Pat had offered sugar, but she hadn't taken any yet.

The drink was earthier than hot chocolate, and with a wider range of flavors. It was more akin to black coffee than the sweet drink from home, but—entirely chocolate. It wasn't as bitter or overpowering as baking chocolate, however, and tasted pretty nice on its own.

Maple savored it, and then let Emma have a sip. She frowned after trying it.

Needs sugar.