* Meeting the Misfits

*

Oh. My. God. I thought as I felt my eyes growing wide and the world brightening around me.

My heart began to race wildly. Not panic or fear. No. It was the racing of a heart very much enamoured. I knew nothing about the three remarkably beautiful girls standing before me, but in this moment, that didn't matter. It wasn't who they were or what they could do. It was purely a hormonal response and one that I felt everywhere in my body. The kind of feeling that takes your breath away, leaving you slack-jawed and dumbfounded.

That was me. Currently young. Dumb. And full of...hormones.

I gulped anxiously as I locked eyes with the first and tallest figure, whom I was familiar with. An elven girl who, no longer in leather armour, wore a loose-fitting top and baggy wool pants. She smiled back at me, her cheeks flushing red as I met her emerald eyes. I watched as she reached up, nervously twirling her short hair before she bashfully looked away.

Ae— I thought of her name for a moment before pausing. Wait. Shit. No. What was her name? It was dumb as fug. Oh, fug, why is her name so complicated? Shit, okay, wait, maybe the other girl.

I then turned towards the groundling girl that I had met at the end of our musical bash-up. The shortest of the group and still wearing the same black cloak as before, she eyed me with her glittering diamond eyes that stood out like glimmering beacons. Unlike the elf, she appeared less bashful and more curious as I watched a thoughtful presence sizing me up as though it was her first time meeting me.

Sh...Sha...Shhhiiitttt. I continued to think to myself, quickly trying to remember a name that I had just been thinking of moments before, yet now escaped me. Wait, I know this. Her name is...was—Sharpy? No! Sharzin! God, these names! That must mean that she is...

Then a third, unfamiliar figure stepped forward, pulling my attention to her as she stood before the rest. She wore leather pants and a cream coloured blouse that stood out against her beautiful dark skin. She was a human girl with medium-length red hair that tumbled over a disapproving glare. Staring at me with piercing sapphire eyes, she stood firmly, her hands on her hips, and appeared to be scrutinizing my very existence.

Her stare was intense and unforgiving, as though I was standing before a judge who had already determined the result of my trial before hearing a word. I revealed a nervous smile, gulping down the knot in my throat, as I anxiously rubbed at the back of my neck.

Rionriv?

“Hi?” I asked, looking the three of them up and down while trying to keep my heart from bursting forth. “W-who are you three?”

Behave heart—and other bits. I thought to myself as a tickle in my chest triggered a cough.

Instinctively, I reached up and covered my mouth. I had survived a pandemic on World Eighty-Two after all, it was called courtesy. Unfortunately, as I pulled my elbow away, my flesh had become spotted by blood in the crook. 

Oh fug, the basilisk gave me tuberculosis! Okay, maybe I do need a bit more bed rest. Or to move to the southwest. I guess Moal'aw was based on—no, not the right time to lore drop!

“Pretty brazen for a kid who we had to save like, what, eight—nine times?” The gorgeous figure at the forefront of the trio huffed as she opened her arms and pressed a hand to her sizeable chest. “Anyways—name’s Rionriv Singlemoon, your saviour. And this is my triop—”

Ree-on-reev?! Goddamn it! That’s how you pronounce it? That’s ridiculous!

“Aesandoral Thantossa.” The elf leapt forward, hands tucked behind her back as she swayed adorably. “I-I’m glad you’re feeling better!”

Aesandoral. That’s it. Goddamn, what is up with these bonkers ass names? At least she's cute. Wait. Adorable Aesandoral, I can remember that.

“You too—last I saw you, I think you took a pretty bad hit to the head.”

“O-Oh, yeah. It-it’s not the first time.” Aesandoral giggled as she fiddled with a small piece of her hair, flashing me a sweet smile. “And probably not the last—"

“And I’m Sharzin Thistlewillow,” The final figure spoke as she stepped forward. “You don’t give up, do you? It’s impressive. And stupid.”

“Well—you know—I’ve been given a gift, so may as well use it.” I blurted out and immediately felt myself go red.

Crap! Why did I say that?! That’ll raise an eyebrow or two. Breathe. Why would it? Yeah, maybe they’ll let it slide.

“What do you mean by that?” Rionriv immediately asked.

Stepping even closer to me, she placed a hand on her hips while poking the other in my chest. She leaned in menacingly, locking her beautiful eyes with mine as she began to interrogate me.

“What? You some kinda triopless weirdo?”

I felt myself shrink under her gaze. Well, emotionally, I shrank. But there was a strange part of me that enjoyed the beratement and was becoming—well—magically enriched. I could feel some old-world trauma still trapped behind the dam, contributing to this reaction, but now wasn't the time for me to explore fetishes about strong, independent women.

Damn, hot. I want—no. Focus. What am I going to do? Come on, I can swing this somehow. Think, think—Oh, I’ve got it! Stall.

“I would love to tell you," I said as I stepped back and waved my hand to my gut. "But based on my growling stomach, it’s around supper time. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished after not eating for a week. Why don’t you allow me to buy you all dinner as thanks for saving my life?”

“We’re not hungry!” Rionriv protested.

Yet, as though triggered by the prospect of nourishment, both Aesandoral and Sharzin’s stomachs released audible growls. Rionriv shuddered at this sound before rolling her eyes with an accompanying sigh.

“Fine. You’re buying and talking, kid.”

Crap. I thought, reaching into my pocket and fiddling with the six silver and fifteen copper coins I had found in various vermin stomachs. Something I had tried not to think too hard about since acquiring.

I hope it’s not too fancy. Anyway, I should probably tell them my name.

“Ishara.”

“What?”

“M-My name? It’s Ishara.”

“Okay, kid,” Rionriv replied as she turned and began her march out. "Whatever."

Leaving the infirmary, I followed the three back towards the center of campus as I listened to their bickering over where to eat. One had chosen a popular student hangout spot, while another simply wanted to return to their dorm's cafeteria. Trudging our way across the cobbled streets campus, beyond the Grand Central Library, a consensus had finally been made, and we moved towards a small café near where I had run into my first vermin nemesis.

I had never heard of the place they recommended, meaning it wasn’t something I wrote into the story. It was instead created in and of this world’s purely chaotic energy. A site completely outside of my hands. And it was also apparently amazing, at least according to Aesandoral, who raved the entire way there.

As we entered, I examined the absurdity of the place. It was a café inside a mimic, where everything from stools to booths to cups were made of the same replicative creatures. Entering the cozy space and taking our seats, one thing became abundantly clear—

I may have known a lot about this world when it consumed my life as Tahvin, but there are still so many things left to surprise me.

One other thing was clear as we made our way deeper into the café and Rionriv lectured me about taking on a basilisk. That was the fact that adventuring was hard! And with my lack of real world experience from either life, I was really beginning to doubt that a toxic could-do attitude would be enough to survive it alone.

Maybe Phyllis was right. Maybe I needed to find a group to work with.

Luckily, I had absolutely no idea who this sexy triop was, which meant that they, like the mimic café, were also created of this world and not directly tied into the Heroic Plot. They were totally unimportant or remarkable, aside from certain appealing characteristics. And since they had been my apparent saviours over the last few weeks, befriending them to work alongside me may have been exactly what I needed to survive.

Thanks, world! For once you did something to help me, instead of sticking a corgsquito up my ass!

Or at least that’s what I was telling myself in this moment. That and a stream of thoughts about how I could persuade them to work with me. I began to crunch numbers, estimating how much faster I could rank up with them at my side and which dungeons would make us all rich without directly changing the story. After all, the doomsday bunker I wanted to build wasn’t going to pay for itself.

By the time we found a booth and sat down, my mind was racing. There were a few literary gems that I never expanded upon after all. Plenty of dungeons and untapped resources in this world that a group of four could take and not directly impact the future. Hell, I was still in the middle of writing this era when I got transmigrated, so there were numerous threads that could be pulled.

That’s it, it's settled. I thought to myself, with a subtle nod.

These unknown misfits will be my party, and I will be a patron. I think my contract allows that. Though with Phyllis as my patron, her’s being Raldan, and me as theirs, we were getting dangerously close to M-L-M territory.

“This place is cozy, glad I could visit finally.” I lied with a big smile as the booth’s tongue licked at my heel. “Gah!”

Rionriv narrowed her gaze on me from across the table. I could tell immediately that she didn’t believe me. If looks could kill, she’d have done me in ten times over between the moment I awoke and now.

“You’ve heard of this place before today, First Year?” She hissed in reply.

“Y-yes? I ha—eherm, I have. And no, I’m not a First Year. I don’t go here.”

“You’re not a student?” Aesandoral cut in. “I thought you looked young.”

“And that must be why you don’t teleport away when you nearly die.” Sharzin added.

“No, I’m not a student, but I am here to learn in a sense—”

“You said you had a gift. What’s up with that?” Rionriv cut to the chase.

These other two are chill but Rionriv’s on me like a bloodhound.

I coughed just as the food and drinks that the girls had ordered upon arriving made it to the table. Taking a moment to pull a stein to my lips, I sipped it down slowly. It was something delightfully sweet and lightly alcoholic, which was good enough for me at this moment. Thank the gods the drinking age in this era was a lot lower than it probably should have been.

Old enough to reach the bar? Old enough to drink! Just like the olden days where liver failure didn’t exist because there were plenty of other ways to die first.

This display I put on of chugging my drink bought me precious moments to create a backstory. I already had a feeling that everything was going to be resting on Rionriv’s opinion and, off the bat, she presented herself as a tough nut to crack.

“You see,” I started. “I know a lot of things—”

“Like a psychic?” She immediately cut in.

Damn, girl! Chill!

“No, not like a—what’s wrong with you?”

“Rionriv can be very intense.” Aesandoral responded from the corner of the booth.

With a slam of her hand on the table, rattling the dish-ware, Rionriv pointed towards the archer.

“Hey! I am not intense!”

“Yep, totally what a not-intense person would say.” The cloaked groundling muttered as she sipped her drink.

Rionriv huffed, turning away from her companion and once more towards me. Her gaze intensified as I noticed electricity behind her eyes.

“Don’t you waste our time, kid. What’s your damn deal?”

She slammed her hand on the table again and, with the other, reached across to take me by the shirt. Pulling me in close, she raised her fist as blue lightning began to crackle across her knuckles.

Panic set in as my heart began to race. Lecherous allure gave way to fear of being beaten within an inch of my life. And not in a sexy way.

“I-I can’t reveal my secret to you yet—” I stuttered.

Mainly because I don’t know what it is. I don’t think, ‘oops, author of the world’ would work.

“What I can tell you is that I have a deep understanding of Esseria, including everything that has happened and will occur over the foreseeable future.”

“Prove it.”

“How the hell could I do that? It’s not like I can just make a prediction on the spot and wait around for it to happen.”

“Didn’t you just say everything that will be? That includes here and now. So, prove it or we walk.”

Crap, what am I going to do? I can’t just let them leave. I mean, I’m sure I could find some other people easier to—no, this group of cuties is it. This is what the world gave me to work with. A blessing wrapped in barbed wire. Plus, I’ve already got them here. And I’m no quitter—well, most of the time. Alright, let’s give them the hook.

“Okay, how about this? How about I tell you a little about yourselves from what I can glean from my first glances of you.”

And by the looks on their faces, I had their attention. Well, most of them, Aesandoral the elf’s attention seemed to have wandered as she played with the drink before her. The mimic mug smiled a Cheshire grin as it panted gently to her tender scratches.

Okay, that's...weird. Anyways, two out of three ain't bad, which means it's time to play a game of twenty questions.