Seph surfaced slowly, as if being pulled back to her body through an ocean of warm honey. Sweet warmth coiled through her, satisfaction humming along every nerve. Her hips were cocked a little oddly, so she shifted her seat to get a little more comfortable. The motion ground her thigh against something warm and wet, drawing a throaty sigh from beneath her. Something sent a whisper of warmth up her thigh and into her core.
The succubus stretched; her own sigh satisfied-
And then realization hit her like an oncoming truck.
Seph scrambled back, scraping her tail on the edge of the cot. The string of expletives followed her all the way to the other side of the grumbling cot. Cassie’s confusion quickly sharpened to understanding and she seemed to search the air, reading words only she could see. Ian appeared to be torn between hovering between them and staying out of reach. He was holding a smooth wooden bow with a rough arrow nocked. He hadn’t drawn the arrow, but it was very decidedly not pointed away from Seph.
She covered herself with the flannel blanket. It wasn’t much protection, but she wasn’t doing it to protect herself from the arrows anyway. Inside her flimsy aegis, guilt pooled like wet clay. It hardened every second, slowly suffocating her. Outside her shelter, silence hung even heavier in the air, broken only by the shuffle of Ian’s sandaled feet. Seph stared at them to avoid looking at anything else. There was something fundamentally wrong about an elf wearing Crocs, even battered pink ones.
Cassie’s tired giggle shattered the silence. Seph flinched back from it.
“Well, if you’re going to steal my bones every time you get hungry we might be in for a rough time.”
The arrow in Ian’s bow inched backwards, and Seph found her gaze glued to it instead of his odd footwear. She wouldn’t be able to dodge if he shot her. She wasn’t sure how she’d survived the wounds that the leaf monster had inflicted on her, but she was pretty sure that an arrow at point-blank range would end her. Ian’s voice had a hard edge to it that passed the euphoric High Troll by.
“Your bones?”
“Yup. I got no bones left. All gone. No bones. Christ. Where did you put them?” The bow creaked ominously in Ian’s grip and Cassie finally noticed it. She clarified.
“I’m fine. Bottomed out on mana but no status effects and my skills are fine. Ian, look, I’m fine.” She stood, wobbling a little. Ian zeroed in on her shaky stance and gave her an unconvinced look.
“Fine? You can barely stand!”
“Good fuck, shaky legs. It happens. I’m fine. Ian, can you get me a drink?” Cassie pointedly turned to Seph, leaving Ian to make his hesitant way out the door. “Tell me it helped.”
Seph nodded mutely. The hunger wasn’t burning through her anymore. She didn’t feel full – not by any stretch – but she could think clearly and jumbled hints of memory were starting to flicker up to the surface. Cassie’s smooth neck on her lips. The girl’s desperate, throaty moans as she came on Seph’s thigh.
Those memories hurt, however, because of the fragments that had sent her reeling across the small room.
“Seph wait. We need to make sure it’s safe before we-“
“Seph wait-“
“Oh, fuck it. Mmf~”
She winced again.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered now, pulling the blanket closer around her.
Cassie frowned and Seph dropped her gaze.
“It didn’t help? You’re still hungry?”
“No! I’m- I’m fine. I feel a lot better but I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? That was awesome! I haven’t gotten laid in… hell, years?”
Seph searched Cassie’s confused face and tried to keep her eyes on the High Troll.
“I think my memory is a little messed up. I don’t remember much after you told me about the trait system. But uh. Didn’t you ask me to stop?” No luck. She’d ended up staring at her hands, hiding under unsuspecting flannel. Her ink-black hands. Changed without her consent. Without her consent. Her-
She flinched away from that thought.
“I mean… I guess? It was a lot of fun though! I don’t mind a bit! And it worked out, right? I’m fine.” The High Troll giggled a stony giggle and stretched. “Hell, I’m better than fine.”
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Seph shivered.
She doesn’t mind, so it’s fine.
That didn’t seem right, pressure was how Emily had-
She’s well fucked and happy, so there’s no problem.
Something still felt a little off, but Cassie had finished luxuriating in the pleasure of taut muscles. She accepted a mug of something that looked and smelled like water but fizzed when a stray drop hit his hand. He sat down next to her and sipped something that smelled strongly of fermented beets. He kept a wary eye flicking between the two women. He had not offered a drink to Seph, but she didn’t very much blame him. She tried to relax, letting the blanket stray from its current fortress position.
“So?”
“So what?”
“What does your status say?” The Elf and the High Troll leaned forward towards her, eagerly.
“Right! Uh.”
Status.
Status
Name: Persephone Evans
Age: 26
Traits
Runeweaver Succubus
N/A
Level 1
N/A
Pools
Health:
N/A
Mana:
N/A
Essence:
18
Essence Consumption:
1.5/hour
“I’m up to eighteen essence. But my consumption has gone up. That’s odd.”
“Essence? I’ve never heard of that. What is your mana up to?”
Seph bit her lip.
“I don’t have any.”
“What?”
“It says N slash A. Not Available? Not Applicable?”
“That can’t be right.” Ian stared at her, drink forgotten. Cassie looked thoughtful, and Seph pulled her blanket up tight around her neck again. She had let it fall around her shoulders, but under their scrutiny, she was reminded that she was completely naked.
“I don’t have any health either. Just Essence and Essence consumption.”
“Mostly human on the outside, big changes on the inside.” Ian shot Cassie a sour look and grumbled.
“Well, that confirms that. Even the Bashers have health and mana.”
“Ian.” Cassie’s voice was warning, but it was a half-hearted warning. It was the kind of voice that said ‘We’ve already had the rest of this argument and this isn’t the time.’ “Deep Trolls are just like us. They used to be human, too.” She leaned forward.
“What I’m more interested in is this ‘Essence Consumption’. You said it had gone up?”
“Yeah. I think I was at one essence an hour, and now I’m eating one and a half… essences?”
“Generally, we say ‘points of health’ or mana so ‘points of essence’ makes sense. But it sounds like you have essence as a shared resource. Check your skills.”
“Think ‘skills and descriptions’” interjected Ian. “The System gives you bupkis unless you ask”
Okay. I feel like a kindergartener being taught how to drive a car. Clueless. Skills and descriptions.
Universal Skill Points: 10
Runeweaver Succubus Skills
Skill Points: 0
Runecraft
You will know the meaning of any runes that you create or come across.
Natural Ink
Your body generates ink.
Everybody’s Type
You are the kind of being that everybody wouldn’t mind fucking.
Essence Conversion: Mana
You naturally convert any mana you absorb into essence.
Sexual Siphon: Mana
You siphon mana from others with sexual contact
[LOCKED]
A reminder of a debt owed.
Borrowed Familiar Skills
Mental Malleability
You and those you siphon are more susceptible to mental manipulation and are less likely to object to it.
There was enough there that she felt kind of overwhelmed, but she focused on the two skills that seemed relevant. She blinked the box away.
“It looks like I have two skills that are applicable, and they just mean that I suck mana from people with sexual contact, and any mana I siphon is converted to essence”
“Just mana?” Ian still seemed a little tense.
“Looks that way”
“Yeah, I’m bottomed out.” Cassie seemed to be slowly coming down from her post-orgasmic high. “I’ll need to stay inside today. Sorry, Ian.”
The elf shook his head, then cracked a small grin at his companion. “We can swap days; you can patrol tomorrow and the next day.”
The High Troll let out a groan, then shot a wry smile over at Seph. “Worth it, I suppose. Anyway, it’s not like you can feed our new friend.”
Ian huffed. “Don’t start this again. I’m perfectly happy without any caster classes. Anyway, if I forsaked... Forsoked? Forsook? If I dropped Innkeeper, who would make you troll beer, hmm?
The bickering seemed companionable, and Ian seemed soothed by the familiar rhythm to it. From the occasional glances Cassie sent his way, it seemed to Seph that that was the point. Just as they were settling in, though, (and Ian was on his third drink) he scrambled back out of his chair, fumbling for his bow. Cassie followed his gaze and jumped back out of her chair. Her mass meant that she was always a little slow to move, and she fell the to ground with an earthen thump.
“Seph, don’t move.” Ian nocked an arrow and was sighting at her cot. For a moment, Seph thought he was about to put the wretched thing out of its misery, but he sank to one knee and aimed below her.
“Uh, Ian? Please don’t aim near me when you’re three drinks in.”
“Persephone, there is a dragon under your cot.”