WASTELAND, PIT STOP, 1090

We didn't stop to eat as Ashley guided me past the food store further into the crowd. The in-door market was bustling with activity, stalls and vendors offering a variety of goods.

Out in front of a particular store were several signs that displayed—to my curiosity—moving images that emitted light. Animated scenes of various people running or trekking through a multitude of environments. It was clear from the animations that this store specialises in something related to them.

Said store was set up near a vendor displaying an array of crossbows. Next to it, there was a stall selling smaller versions of those moving signs. Inside the store, dozens of shoes, boots, and other footwear were on display.

"We're starting with footwear?" I mused aloud, more to myself than to Ashley.

Hmm, I suppose I could do with some new footwear… I look down at my boots. They were alright, but I've been wearing these for quite a while now. Perhaps they could be a bit taller, maybe half-way up my calf would work.

Ashley and I walk in and immediately begin looking around. The interior of the store had a welcoming ambiance. Overall, the place looked very cosy. Warm lighting shined down from hanging lights in the shape of thin bars. A dozen people inside sat comfortably in seats trying out different footwear while others checked themselves out in front of mirrors. It seemed like a popular spot for those in search of the perfect pair.

Following Ashley, I made my way to one side of the store where several pairs of boots were on window display, with their prices written directly underneath. I don't know how expensive they were since the prices weren't in dollars.

"So, 'these in our price range?" A quick nod yes before she made a small pause, writing something in her book.

Once finished, she holds it up to me and…

I have absolutely no idea how or what she is saying as well as why there are so many numbers between her sentences. Not much of a maths guy…

"Uhhh, that ain't gonna translate it for me, girly. Ya mind drawin' a picture for me?" I say as I look closer.

Responding with an exasperated sigh she starts to do as per request. But it was no more futile that the last attempt because all she drew was;

"…A bunch of feet?" I squint my eyes.

She facepalmed so hard that a mark was left once she finished dragging the hand off her face.

Now she's taking a deep breath.

Now she is flicking her wrist at me,

Now she is… mouthing out the word 'boy'?

I'm confused, what the hell's she summoning?

"…Maybe we should sit down so we can develop a wordbook or thesaurus of some sorts. So we can actually understand each other."

Ashley gave me a confused look when I spoke the word thesaurus.

"Thesaurus, y'know. A list of subject headings or descriptors usually with a cross-reference system for use in the organisation of a collection of documents for reference or retrieval?"

…

I think that might've just made it worse… Christ in heaven this'll be annoying.

"Words. Meaning. Other. Words."

Bingo, she lights up. But this time gestures for me to follow.

We ended up grabbing a few writing materials and some food from the main sector and went back to those old couches. Sitting down, we begin to work on our language differences, food in hand.

~⁕~

As the morning passed, it turned out. Victorian is just 'modern' English except some of the words are different. The sentence structure and systems are all the same, but it's just a matter of learning the new words and what they mean. A thing to note about Victorian is that they tend to cut out unspoken letters and generally simplify the sounding of most words. I actually kind of like this way of 'no hidden bullshit'. It's really easy to remember, but that didn't stop me from stuffing my pocket full of newly written notes. I'm sure I'll forget a few things later after all.

With a new pair of boots in tow, we continued ahead to get me some better clothes. The area we reached was so incredibly illuminated and polished, that I don't believe I've seen anything cleaner. Dominating the space were multiple aisles, each with its own sign, undoubtedly indicating the brand it represented.

One sign bore the emblem of a shield with a central tree and a star at its base. Adjacent to it, another showcased two triangles, with one encapsulating a depiction of a snowy mountain.

There were many more signs, but if Ashley and I stopped to analyse each one, we'd never get around to what we came for.

Ashley pauses to gaze at me, seemingly sizing me up, perhaps wondering what would suit me. A moment of inspiration hit her, evident by her animated expression, and she led me to a specific aisle.

Unlike the others, this aisle's sign was adorned only with words: "Epoque Collection, Since. 994." What the hell does "Epoque" mean? Shaking off the distraction, we delved deeper into the aisle, occasionally pausing to look at mannequins or clothes.

After exploring the Epoque section, a particular display caught my attention. The clothes hung in an array of designs, from abstract swirls to geometric patterns, boasting a vivid spectrum of colours. Nestled next to a collection of warm greys was a detailed image of a cliffside. Ashley, noticing my prolonged observation, pointed to the centre of the depiction. To my astonishment, a camouflaged figure with a similarly disguised crossbow became discernible.

I've seen attempts at camouflage in the bayou, but it was often hit-or-miss due to bounties being inside structures. Speed was more vital than stealth. The key was to stay silent, wait patiently, and seize the opportune moment when presented.

There was one exception, though. A while ago, I was saved from a machete-wielding maniac by a hunter who adorned his cloak with sticks and twigs. From atop a tree, he took aim and fired a perfect shot, sending a crossbow bolt straight into my adversary's forehead. Regrettably, I never called out his name; I was too stunned by the near-death experience. He vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared.

"Ya know… we didn't have any of this stuff back where I'm from," I commented, garning a curious look from Ashley.

"Most that hunters tried was darker, dirtier, and worn clothing, or a mix of all three." I only saw very experienced hunters do that though…

I think I'll get some more simple, inconspicuous clothing instead. As effective as this camouflage clothing is, it's safe to assume that this world has ways of detecting people who're hiding. I also just don't want to carry three sets of clothing for different terrain. Better to have spares instead.

With that thought, my eyes landed on a mannequin adorned in a complete set of dark attire: black trousers paired with a grey long-sleeve shirt. Beside it, a rack showcased other colour variants, including black and charcoal shirts, though it appeared the trousers were exclusively available in black.

Perfect.

I approach the mannequin to get a better look, but then I realise that Ashley's no longer with me.

Turning around, I spot her walking towards me in a different outfit. It's some kind of fancy white dress that looked like it came from the Epoque aisle from earlier.

She makes some kind of pose to show off the dress. I don't think we can afford something that looks so expensive…

I give her a thumbs up. "You look good."

Anyway, these shirts are soft! I feel a small piece of the fabric with my fingers and they're thin enough to roll up. I wonder how good this'll feel after I've had a proper bath.

"Hey Ashley, ya think we have enough for a few sets of these?"

Looking back she seems oddly agitated for some reason, what did I even do to her? Eh, there's no point in bothering. She probably isn't going to give a straight answer anyways.

~⁕~

After Ashley had spent a portion of her pay, I had to carry both of our bags of clothes because her book didn't fit anywhere else, forcing her to keep holding. It's a god send that these clothes can be compacted so much.

Exiting out of the store whilst carrying a bag in each hand, I feel vulnerable for not having my hand at the ready for my gun. As Ashley and I both turn and begin walking away from the clothes store, my eyes are caught on something striking.

The second I lay my eyes on her, a whirlwind of thoughts stir inside me.

The shimmer of silver-white hair immediately captures my attention. Its length and unique tail-like structure make it seem like a luminous stream. As my gaze moves downward, I'm instantly entranced by the piercing shade of her red eyes. It's like Gilliean's, but there's something colder lying beneath.

The blue and black cloak that wraps around her upper torso is uneven in a clean way—asymmetrical. The initials 'SK' are subtly embroidered under her collar, while the cloak's edges are trimmed with red. There's a word written in that same red, but it's too small for me to see.

What really disoriented me however, was that on her back is a sword that's longer than her whole body.

I can't tell if it's sheathed or not, but its size made it clear that if it was, then a devastating blunt weapon it would be. It has this… futuristic look to it that I don't know how to fully describe. The hilt is large and circular, seemingly having an almost mechanical quality with two protruding pieces of metal. I wouldn't be surprised if her sword did other things, similar to Gari's spear.

Our eyes lock, the sudden contact jolts the market into a sudden silence as fast as lightning. The world seems to hold its breath. The bags feel like lead in my hands, ready to dent the floor if released, just so I can take my gun out of its holster.

…

The silence stretches with heartbeat after heartbeat. And then… we both turn away from each other, walking as if nudged by some unseen current. The sounds of the market gradually resumes, enveloping Ashley and me as we retreat.

That woman… I wonder if our paths will cross again.

As we walked away, Ashley put a hand on my arm. Her expression is neutral, yet her eyes flicker with a hint of disappointment, ushering me onwards.

Just who was that…

Now that I think about it something else came to mind.

"Hey Ash', I really appreciate all that you are doing for me but one small question. How do you expect us to carry this all throughout terra?"

I look down and nod at the bags, emphasising just how much we're carrying.

"I don't wanna keep carrying my things in this… fragile material. It's quite the big load we have here, but…"

…Ohh shit. I've just realised that mistakes were made… and Ashley does too…

"That's what she said." Were the words that were essentially shoved into my face, written bold in both Ashley's book and her face.

"Fuck you."

Striking a sultry pose, Ashley bites her lip and over dramatically winks at me. To which I promptly ignore in favour of looking for a survival or general camping store.

I can't believe I fell for the same trick again… This will never happen again. I'll be thinking long and h—

It's not funny!

Looking back, I'm met with a more punchable face than Gari's. There's only so much patience a man can have, and I'm not going to entertain you anymore.

~⁕~

Finally we're at the survival supplies store now. Well, it's a bit of a stretch to call it a store as it's more of an open section where a number of stalls and vendors set up in a square formation.

Barring the crowd of people moving about, we were surrounded on all fronts by options from numerous different brands, retailers, and vendors. Chances are high that if we chose any random direction, we'd find what we're looking for.

Having the bag soon to carry my things would be really nice, all of this spare ammo I've hidden across my clothing is starting to prick me. Because of all the shotgun shells I looted from that other hunter, there was no other place to put my rounds of .45 Medina anywhere so I had to improvise.

There are a lot of options for bags, but since I'm most familiar with my Scottfield, I'll probably keep the shotgun shells in its own dedicated container. Perhaps something like a smaller version of those unusual cases back on Ferrok's supply truck?

Either way, it will have to lessen the load of my pouches as they are bulging with shotgun shells. The map of the bayou I had in there is probably scrunched up by now.

I feel a nudge from Ashley as she points to a large black backpack hanging from a rack. With multiple compartments and pockets, The brand's logo is prominently displayed on a patch that reads 'Oaklite'. The only parts to it that weren't black were its silver metallic clips, rings, and zippers.

Well, it certainly fits the colour scheme of my newly bought clothes. I peer into the bag full of the dark fabrics, comparing the colours with the bag.

"Sure, let's get it." I nod at Ashley as she approaches the vendor and takes out her pouch of money. Will it be enough though? The backpack looks really high quality…

…I'm sure it'll be fine. While Ashley's paying for it, I should probably get ready to transfer all of my old belongings.

But just as I was about to take my things out, Ashley surprised me with something else she bought as well. In her hand was a decently sized chestnut brown leather pouch that had four cartridge loops on the outside.

"So what's this for? I don't think my revolver bullets'll fit in these loops, they're a little too big… Ohhh." As I realise that it's for the shotshells, Ashley is already pointing at the Romero slung behind my back

"Heh, thanks Ash'. And here I was beginin' to wonder if the paper shotshells were just gonna loosely shake around in that backpack."

Soon after, Ashley hands me the Oaklite backpack and I begin exploring all of the compartments, starting with stuffing my new clothes inside the largest space. After that, I emptied out most of the shells into the pouch, which I attached to the left of my belt. It seemed to only hold a maximum of 44 shells, so I had to keep the final two in one of my pouches.

Glancing up, I see Ashley moving her own things into her own brown backpack that she bought for herself.

Moving on to my other pouches, things like my compass and map didn't matter anymore now that I'm here. Taking a closer look at my map, I see the path that I took that led to my demise.

Hemlock and Hide. Nicholls Prison. Arden Parish. Salters Pork…

…My knuckles whiten as my grip on the map tightens.

"…Why didn't I check…" I quietly mutter out loud, more towards myself than to Ashley or anybody else. Memories of the whole room lighting up in a flash began playing in my mind as my leg began to ache.

Ashley couldn't see my expression, but she definitely heard me as she knocked me out of my thoughts by peering over my shoulder, interested in what I was talking about.

"'Just a map of where I'm from." I hand it over to Ashley, to which she gives it a few looks, examining all of the compounds.

She nearly hands it back to me, but I stop her.

"Nah. Don't need it no more. You hold onto it." Ashley tilts her head to one side in confusion before giving me a soft smile. She folds it up before storing it away in her bag along with her clothes.

Slipping the bag on, I made sure that the shotgun had enough space to not get knocked off my back.

Just as I was about to move on, Ashley grabbed me by the shoulder.

Upon seeing her face, I only had one thing to say.

"S'Just a headache, Ash. Let's go."

~⁕~

I eyed the sleeping bags Ashley was looking at, completely baffled. Every single one seemed large enough for up to three people. She must be settling for these ones because they're the only ones on sale, given that a good chunk of her cut was poured into providing me gear.

"Hehehe~ Seems like Ashley can only get one. Hey, how about you and I share one tonight—"

"Shut it, Gari," I snapped, not in the mood for her antics. Especially not after the stunt she pulled last time back on that truck.

Ashley and I went on to eventually meet up with Gari and Gilliean looking for tents and sleeping bags, as this place wasn't a boarding house to sleep in. Ferrok ultimately decided we should sleep atop the landship for some damned reason.

At least that's what Gari relayed. Ferrok was probably off with the logistics mercenaries shaving off loot from the village I woke up in for extra dollars—or whatever they had here.

Ashley peeks into her purse, before scribbling in her notebook. I managed to catch, "Not enough for the regular ones," written there.

"Really, Ash? Even the shittiest ones?" I said.

"We got the tent," she shrugged, referring to the cosy two-person tent we'd secured earlier.

"Damn it all to hell, just buy the cheapest one." I sigh in defeat, holding a hand to the side of my hat in frustration.

Ashley eventually returns with the monstrous sleeping bag. Its rolled-up form mimicked the size of my backpack.

Little did I know, at the time, she had more than enough for two off-sale sleeping bags.

~⁕~

Night approached fast. At first, a few stores shut down, with signs and curtains being drawn. Then, a sudden voice echoed throughout the grand halls.

It spoke in Russian—Ursus… Ursine? Ursusian? Either way the announcement was the same. Gari told me that we had about an hour before 'lockdown' to join the rest of the mercenaries up top. It was that, or we get permanently kicked out from the bounty post with only the clothes on our back. Only actual residents like shop-owners and security are allowed to stay inside the landship overnight, otherwise 'looters' would run rampant when the merchandise is left unguarded.

After a dozen minutes or so of trekking through dimly-lit metallic hallways and stairs, we find our way to the roof of the landship. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that I just climbed out of some underground bunker into a snowy wasteland.

The snowy landscape of the roof was barely visible, barely lit up by the lights of campfires and lanterns that peppered themselves amongst the numerous tents set up by everybody who was kicked out.

I can immediately tell where we need to go as Ferrok easily stands out to me. His sword rests beside him, leaning against some fixture that had a pole with a blinking-red light at the top. I don't know what the hell that is, but at this point I'm not going to ask.

Behind Ferrok is the rest of his mercenary group, either in their tents or sitting around a campfire.

"Hey. I assume we're to set up our tent, correct?" I say to Ferrok as Ashley makes her way to my side. On the edge of my periphery is Gari and Gilliean venturing further into the camp, likely looking for a place to set up their camp.

"Yes." Ferrok replied, nodding towards the side.

I give him a nod back before walking off with Ashley toward one of the edges of the camp.

The tent apparently didn't need to be pinned down with stakes even if it came with it. It was somehow sturdy and heavy enough to not fly off, not like there was any wind to begin with. It's also made out of another one of those mystery materials I have no idea about. By the entrance were our backpacks and my shotgun leaning against them.

Outside, the snow falls steadily as the distant lights snuff out, probably by other groups heading to sleep.

But before turning the lamp off as well, A gentle tap on my shoulder brings my attention to Ashley, letting me know that it was probably time to get some shut-eye.

…Yeah, I agree, but I am going to finish washing up before that. Giving a thumbs up I return to the task at hand… Why do you keep tapping my shoulder? Turning around;

I receive an answer in the form of a naked Ashley, her clothes are absent from her body and in a pile beside her feet. Her skin reflects the lamp's light, highlighting every curve and mound in clarity.

"W-Wha—" Why?

She quietly inches closer and closer to me with methodical steps until the light is behind her. Her gentle blue eyes slightly narrow from the smile she gives me.

Isn't this too fast? Ohhh shit, I think she's a bit too grateful for her revival. Wait, we've got to wash up don't we? Those are what the towels are for, right? I'll try and work with that.

"I'll wash your back 'kay!" I quickly splutter. Ashley gives me a look of surprise before she reverts back to that smile of hers again.

Ashley kneels down to the tent floor, revealing the entirety of her back to me. I'm more focused on something else—and no, it's not her ass, but fuck is it a good one.

A slanted scar stretches across from the bottom of her nape to the top of her—thin blonde tail. She has a tail. How the hell haven't I noticed that when she first turned around…?

The scar is very faint, possibly due to her revival. It looks like she either got snuck up on by a machete or got cut trying to run away from one.

A flash of memory reminds me of that maniac again. Would a scar like this be on my back if I wasn't saved back then? With cloth and water in hand, I started scrubbing her back, occasionally gently testing to see if I could scrub around and at her scar…

…Huh, no immediate reaction. The scrubbing continues, now in a more consistent manner. Ashley had also begun washing herself with another towel.

.

.

.

Finished. Ashley stands up and gives me a good onceover, examining each scar intently. I can't help but cringe as we make eye contact. She gives me that damned look again.

"…Guess it's my turn." I force the words out, before averting my eyes away from the way she was staring at my body, turning my back to Ashley. This prompts her to start scrubbing my back and as she's doing this, I get to work finishing up where I left off.

But I'm not given any peace as I realise that Ashley wasn't washing my back anymore, but in a far worse place. Turning my head to the side, I notice her peering over my shoulder, her blue eyes not so discreetly taking a peek at my—

"Like HELL are ya doin' that!" Like lightning, I snap around, grab her by the shoulder and thrust a pair of fingers up her nose.

~⁕~

The both of us are tucked in the big sleeping bag. There was thankfully enough space between us so that we weren't immediately touching. These clothes felt incredibly soft, I'm surprised

I grip my gun tight, hammer down, finger off the trigger. I don't know exactly how long I've slept with my gun, but all I know is after hearing stories and rumours, that became the norm for me.

Looking back on today, I realised that I've… experienced this before. It was probably right after I burned my old white shirt, did I and some fellow hunters, perused throughout town, using our hard earned cash to gear up for more hunts. It was my first time seeing one of those Mosin-Nagants.

Ha… all this reminiscing is beginning to tire me out.

Eventually, the grip on my gun relaxes.

…

And then it tightens in response as two soft arms wrap themselves around mine. The rest of Ashley eventually nestles up against me, enveloping my entire left side in the soft warmth of her body.

This… this is comfortable. I can sleep to this. Despite what Ashley tried back there.

[Sorry it took so long, slice of life chapters are huge time sinks. Also we now have scene preferences polls that you can participate in through our discord.]

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