Otherworld Girlboss Pervert

That section of the wall was evacuated and closed to the public for the rest of the day. Maple, Emma, and Sasha, though shaken, were fine and had gone home. Rachel hadn't been around the ballista as far as anyone had seen, so they imagined she was fine as well.

Officially, there weren't many details out. There had been a weapon malfunction resulting in property damage, but no civilian casualties. More info may be released later.

The gap in Maple's mind had been filled. Ballistae were dangerous. War was hell, and they could make it rain fire here just as well as they could in her world. Those were the simple facts.

Rachel had helped make this particular weapon, and that was a little...weird. But on the way back, Sasha had described far worse spells that she'd seen or knew of. Besides being done solely with chemicals, Rachel hadn't invented anything new. Plus, anything made for Syber would only be used for its defense.

Naturally.

In the end, Maple decided to simply not think too hard about it. Life went on.

She also was no longer thinking about her wings—besides the mild pain caused by any back or shoulder movement. Good thing she was still unemployed and didn't really need to use her arms for anything.

Maple sighed and turned hopefully to Emma.

"I'm gonna go give that pump to the milkmaids, and then, I don't know, figure other stuff out. Wanna come?"

Maple thought it might be boring for her, especially with all the walking involved, but her blue cutie rubbed her hands together and agreed with a glimmer in her eye. Much to Maple's satisfaction. Emma was the social one out of the pair, and interactions tended to be easier with her around. It also saved Maple from having to carry the breast pump through the city herself, which would have felt rather awkward.

More than anything, it meant they got to spend more time together. They held held hands as they walked through the city this time, arms gently swinging. It'd be excessive to say the incident this morning had put a mortal fear into either of them, but perhaps it'd given them a new appreciation for their health and safety.

"They're supposed to all hang out at a place called Birdy's. It's an inn too, I think."

Maple really did hate going to new places for the first time; not knowing what to expect, or if the people she needed to see were even there. In contrast, Emma looked excited and made a show of keeping an eye out for the place. An eye she formed on her palm, as a secret in-joke.

When they found it, halfway across the city though it was, it took the form of a newer construction with a logo consisting primarily of a feather.

The inside smelled like a mix of hardwood wax, food, and a hint of tobacco smoke. Folks were scattered about the dining area, leaving it far from full, and conversations were respectfully quiet. The atmosphere felt the slightest bit more upscale than other inns, perhaps mostly due to how clean and new the furniture and everything was.

Maple wandered in further with Emma in tow and craned her head around. She was looking for Betty, or—any group of ladies who looked like they used to sell milk regularly.

Vague criteria. She dearly hoped to just find Betty, but there was always the stereotypical indicator she could fall back on if it had to be someone else. That'd be the gamble of her life.

"I don't see Betty, or...anyone."

Emma shrugged, not doing any better herself. There were other sections to explore, but Maple had wandered right up to the bar and been spotted.

"Can I help you lovely ladies with anything?"

Maple turned, and for the second time in her life and second time that day, saw a harpy in-person. Fate was funny like that, sometimes. Or maybe they'd always been around, and she was only noticing them now that she'd soon have a similar set of wings.

The meeting was up close this time, and he was a male harpy; unlike the all-female squad of [Hydromancers] they'd seen earlier. He stood behind the bar wearing a butler's suit, tailored to let out the black-feathered wings and tail feathers behind him. It was a very classy look overall.

"Hi, we were looking for someone named Betty, or um, the other people she's usually with. She has horns, and uh..."

Was 'cow beastkin' correct? Bovine, maybe? Maple didn't know Betty that well, and she didn't really want to chance it so let the description hang there. The bartender nodded while polishing a glass.

Maple couldn't see his feet, but his hands were definitely closer to talons than human hands. His skin there looked tough, and he had the equivalent of a thumb but only three fingers in addition to that. His nails, or maybe they were closer to claws, were trimmed to short points, and Maple was fairly certain the dark purple color was painted on.

"I believe I know who you mean. They tend to all hang out in one of the rec rooms, through the hall there."

He pointed, and Maple hesitated instead of heading off that way. Curiosity had gotten the better of her.

"Ah, thank you. Also, just wondering but, are you Birdy?"

"Perhaps I am, but just why would you assume that, I wonder?"

He stopped polishing the glass, and even Emma elbowed Maple with a why would you ask that so directly expression on her face. Maple felt her own face begin heating up.

"Sorry, um, no reason. You're just—like the only employee here...And it's called Birdy's..."

"And?"

He set the glass down and stared at Maple, prompting her to state the obvious. She really didn't want to. She really regretted asking at all, in fact. Emma, her savior, tried to distract him by holding out the sheet of paper with her pre-written greeting.

Hi, I'm Emma. I'm a soap slime.

He did not acknowledge Emma or her note. His eyes were fixed on Maple like—

Like a hawk.

Maple's face was on fire down to her chest. There was only one way out, and she had to stammer through it.

"And...because you're a little bit bird-like—in a good way. Sorry. I didn't mean anything bad—"

He let the facade drop then, and let out a loud laugh.

"More than a little, isn't it? You're fine, sweetie. You'll make me feel bad if you turn any redder. Sorry for messing with you but it's a good way to judge character, sometimes. I am the owner of this fine establishment, but Birdy is just a nickname."

Maple breathed out a sigh of relief, and he turned to Emma next. He read her note, and then held out a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Emma the soap slime. And if we're all giving introductions..."

He held his hand out to Maple after Emma. She took it, and the feel of it was distractingly interesting. Maple stammered again.

"Ah. I'm Maple."

"Heh, not the Maple, I hope?"

He said it as a joke, but Maple grimaced. She was that Maple, as far as she knew. The semi-notorious-due-to-obscene-events Maple who was still hot on everyone's mind.

That event should have been less hot thanks to the ballista accident that morning, but...

"With the whole, ah, incident recently, I mean?"

His tone turned disbelieving and Maple grimaced harder. Then he sounded insistent, though he whispered some parts.

"With the—sex zombies? And the 'I'm Maple' thing that everyone was talking about? Really? You're that Maple?"

Her silent awkwardness was a clear yes. He gave her an appraising up-and-down look, body language still saying he hardly believed her. The heat that'd begun leaving her face picked up again. It was too late to deny it, but she also didn't really want to confirm it.

Emma pulled out her chalkboard and heroically tapped away. She showed it to Birdy with a bright smile.

It's true. She's my beloved Maple, and she helped save the day.

"Right, that is one of the rumors I'd heard. Your reputation seems to have preceded you then, and I suppose it's my turn to apologize. How about a drink on the house?"

Maple reflexively glanced at Emma, and Birdy quickly spoke again while handing the two a drink menu.

"A drink for each of you. Any preferences? My main class is [Bartender], if you were wondering."

A decently-leveled one, he seemed to imply. Maple perused the menu, while Emma wrote out her preferences.

I like everything!

Maple smiled at that—she was so silly—but Birdy rose to the challenge and began picking out bottles.

"I can do that. I suppose you'd expect something like..."

He began pouring the liquids and syrups into a glass, and dropping in garnishes seemingly at random. Gin, cherry juice, lime, whiskey, mint leaves, beer, grapefruit juice—

It was going to be disgusting, Maple decided, but Emma would probably like it. Birdy kept going, dumping in practically everything. When the glass was full, he stirred it all together with a glass stick.

"And now, [Separate Ingredients]. [Perfect Blend]. [Perfect Blend]. [Perfect Blend]."

The ingredients formed distinct layers, and then with each use of [Perfect Blend] formed a new layer. He kept doing it until there were five layers of mixed drinks in the glass.

Emma watched wide-eyed and clapped when he finished. Birdy did a little bow and slid the drink over.

"The Five-In-One. A little silly when I could just make the drinks separately, but sometimes you've gotta show off. Now, what will yours be?"

"Oh, um.........."

Maple had been so enthralled that she'd forgot to decide, and she'd been having trouble deciding to begin with. Birdy smiled and placed another glass in front of him.

"If I may suggest something perhaps a little too cliche? A Syber Pancake. Which fruit do you like?"

He tapped the menu with a claw. The drink consisted mostly of rum and maple syrup, with one's choice of fruit flavoring. It was cliche, but she'd gathered by now that one of the things Syber was known for was its syrups. And to her own chagrin at times, she did like maple syrup.

"Um, okay, peach."

"Coming right up."

There was something relaxing about watching a professional smoothly mix a drink for you. Each pour was perfectly calculated, refined through having done it hundreds—if not thousands—of times. Sasha was a fine bartender, but Maple decided she may need to come back here again some night.

It was a good first impression, in short. He didn't keep the two much longer than that. They took their drinks and headed toward the rec rooms in search of Betty.