Benji and I stay like that for a while.
I don't mind. I can tell he needed it. My nose comes in handy in many ways now, especially being able to determine how something affects someone emotionally. Getting to cry is helping him feel better, releasing the pressure that Sytoria had referenced earlier. The grief is still there, of course it is, but by the time he calms down again, a huge weight has lifted off his shoulders.
When both of us have managed to find our equilibrium again—mine neutral, his happy—I find that I'm a bit more comfortable with the idea than I had been a few hours ago. I opt for the bedroom option.
He takes it seriously on the outside but inside he is relieved, proud, grateful, and determined. Without asking, I can't be sure what the exact reason is for all of those emotions, but I know, at least, that he cares and that he won't try to push if I say no at any point. Some part of me, some knot that I hadn't realized had twisted itself inside my chest, loosens as I realize all this.
We stand on either side of the closed door, the rather clunky lock proving to be a rather reassuring thing despite how ultimately pointless I know it is. He's a minotaur. If he wanted, despite not being on a combat Path—I mean, I don't know that, but it's pretty obvious he's never even thrown a punch—he could break down the door without so much as a grunt. Still, focusing on the lock, even as I feel the warmth of Benji's Aura through the doorway, grounds me.
Plus Benji talks to me through the whole thing, even if I don't respond. It only takes a few minutes, in any case. I can hear him writing on some paper with one of those writing sticks—I should ask what they're called at some point; it's not a pencil—through the door, presumably recording the measurements his Aura is giving him.
"I'm going to be making you some brightly colored outfits to compliment your feathers, some more neutral outfits to compliment your eyes, and some plain ones for the days where you don't feel expressive or you're doing some physical activity where armor isn't required. I will also be making you two sets of leather light armor with leather hoods to protect from harsh weather like sandstorms or blizzards, but they'll mostly be for training or daily wear, if you decide to join any Guilds."
I wouldn't normally choose to wear anything as ... bright... as the things Benji seems to enjoy wearing, but I suppose I can at least try it. I might feel uncomfortable, but I noticed other people wearing bright clothing, as well, so it must not be considered as eccentric as it is on Earth.
"I imagine that Auntie will offer it to you—training, that is—even if you don't specifically ask her for it, but it can't hurt. She's the best fighter in the whole of Esh, save for Benna. She's not here as often, so I don't know that I would consider her in the ranking, but since you've never met her I figured I might as well include her. She's a Blue-9 which is one step away from Indigo-1. In case she didn't explain power rankings to you, those are like roughly accurate guidelines the Guilds started using to put people in general categories based on the relative danger they pose to the public. Everyone else just kind of adopted it from there."
I feel his Aura retract and I shiver.
"Alright, I'm all done. You can come out now. I'll go ahead and make something you can wear for now while I get the rest of these churned out over the next few days. I'll make you some undergarments if you wear those, some pants, shirts, a few formal outfits like the one I'm wearing, and we can discuss some other things you'd like specifically from there. How does that sound?"
By the time he's finished talking, I've already gotten dressed in the robe and have opened the door to the shop proper. He's already got fabric, brown and black and green, in his hands, pinning things in place incredibly fast. I mean, he's been doing this presumably for years and he's got access to the System, so I suppose fast isn't surprising.
"That sounds good. I do wear 'undergarments,' but do you think you could make a hoodie?" I ask, watching the process with interest. The zipping noise I heard earlier was apparently the sound of two pieces of fabric being stitched together through some Spell, I imagine, because no needle is involved at all. He runs his fingers over a specific section and suddenly, they're melded together as if they always had been. Huh, interesting.
"I'm already making you a few shirts with hoods, remember?" He reminds me, chuckling because he thinks he understands what I'm asking for.
"No, those aren't hoodies. Sorry, I should have explained. They're like shirts with hoods, but they're thick shirts with hoods, and a big pocket to put your hands in at the front."
He looks thoughtful, his ears flopping slightly as he focuses on, presumably, the picture of what I'm thinking. They lift high when he has a realization. I stifle that, "aww," reaction again. Damn brain. Shut up.
"Oh, like a sweater but with a hood. Interesting. I don't think I've ever made something like that before. Typically only the humans need warmer clothing like that because their bodies don't naturally protect them from those conditions like the other races do, and hoods are as-of-yet reserved for armor sets, but a hood made from soft fabric for comfort? That would feel so nice on my ears," he says the last bit to himself, and I register excitement coming from him. Something new, his brain is telling him. I smile.
"Make one for yourself, too," I suggest, shrugging, "I just like to be comfortable, so a hoodie sounds really nice, especially being so far from home in a place I'm unfamiliar with and only one friend."
His ears go high again as he smiles, his eyes closing as his cheeks raise. He's very happy about something I said. What had I said? Oh, right, I called him my friend. I mean, yeah, of course he is now. How could he not be? I don't think anyone has ever been so immediately nice and trusting with me. Maybe that's naïve of me, but I can literally smell if someone has ill intentions now, so...
"I'm glad you consider me your friend!" he says, still smiling, tail swishing, as he goes back to work. He's making a pair of black pants from a material that somewhat reminds me of denim, but softer despite looking really durable. I wouldn't call them sweatpants, but they're not jeans either. "I don't really have any, either, so don't feel bad about only having one. Also, yeah, I can definitely make you a hoodie as long as you don't mind me making one for myself, too. We can match!"
He has to stop being so cute. It's making me feel weird. I don't think I've ever considered anyone cute, honestly, and now I think this minotaur is cute? A minotaur? Isn't that, like... weird, or something?
Oh, right, I'm not human anymore, either. Plus, I don't know if they have those sort of hang ups here. Interspecies relationships, I mean.
Relationships? Huh? Where the hell did that thought come from? I'm not into guys, am I? I mean, I've never really thought about either gender in the context of attractiveness or dating or whatever. Why am I doing it now? Here? What a great time to have such a mindset altering thought that's definitely not going to keep me up for a few days agonizing over why I hadn't realized such a thing about myself.
Am I having a realization about myself? Or am I just being weird because he's being nice to me and I'm not used to that? Fuckkk. I don't know, man! This isn't supposed to be happening. Much less now of all moments. I just got kidnapped and killed some people and broke a minotaurs wrist like it was a candy cane, and now I have to have a crisis of sexuality?
Nope. Ignoring that. Putting it into a box and shoving it into the mental attic with all the other boxes for now.
Concern washes over me and I look up. Benji is staring at me, his brows furrowed. Had he said something?
"Zed, are you okay? We don't have to match if you do—"
"NO!" I say way too loudly, so I stop and try again. This time quieter. "No, it's okay. Sorry. I was just kind of spacing there for a moment. I think that would be nice, actually. What color would you want? I'm going to be wearing it all the time, so pick something that would look good on us both," I joke lightly, trying to change the subject. Rather lamely and without skill, I might add. Benji takes the hint, anyway. That or he just believes me. Either way, he's back to happy.
"I don't have a preference. I like every color, as you can see," he gestures around his shop at all the colors everywhere. There really is every color all over the place. I smirk. "Plus," he continues, "it's your idea. You should go with whatever color you want."
"What about the color of your scarf? I like that color—blue's my favorite color, actually—and you seem to like it a lot too. That way we can both be happy," I say. I do like blue, yes, but I genuinely don't care what color the hoodie turns out to be as long as it's comfortable. It could be puke green for all I care.
A spike of grief hits Benji again as his fingers almost unconsciously come up to rub at the scarf. He looks down at it. There's also a feeling of ... I'm not sure I recognize it? Sentimentality? Gratefulness? It means something to him that I suggested it, though I'm not sure what the word for it is exactly. It smells sad but in a happy way, and I have no other way to describe that. I'm not an English major, okay!
Reverence! That's what it feels like. There. Wait, reverence? Why that?
"Are you sure?" He says, quietly. Reluctantly? Hopefully? Trying to make sure I'm not making fun of him but at the same time hoping that I'm being serious, it feels like. It makes me sad for him. Have the others made fun of him for the scarf, too? What kind of family does he have? Aethos said community was big here. I'm not seeing it so far. I suppose I didn't have much better, but I reserve the right to be angry on someone else's behalf.
I cock my head to one side slightly, confused. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be sure? I like the color and it obviously means a lot to you, so why wouldn't I want to go with something we both like?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know. I guess I'm not used to it," he responds.
"Used to what?" I press.
He shrugs his wide shoulders, his ears flat. Sadness. Loneliness. Grief. "People noticing things like that."
Oh, Benji. That's so sad. I don't know what to say to make him feel better. I'm not good with comforting. It gives me anxiety. What if I say the wrong thing?
Instead, I follow the precedent that he'd set. Physical touch. I step forward and pat his back, my face hopefully conveying that I'm sorry he's gone through anything like that. I am, too. I know how it feels to be alone, but most of the time I prefer it, if only because other people drain me and don't care enough to try and understand me. It's exhausting.
His ears raise again and he gives me a bitter sort of smile, but the happiness comes back, anyway. He's appreciative. "Thank you. I suppose I can't expect everyone to be amazing with comforting other people like me," he jokes and I snort. He laughs.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"I wish I could pick on you about that, but you really are great at it. I don't think anyone else has ever done that for me." I respond.
"Done what? Comfort you?"
"Well, no, a few people have definitely tried to comfort me but it was much less personal and also way less effective. You didn't try to force me to calm down and you were just present through the moment. I don't normally like hugs or being touched, but for some reason it worked. Plus you shared your lullaby with me which is something you and your mom had together and something that obviously meant so much to you."
Benji feels a small bit of embarrassment but it's quickly replaced with an empathetic feeling, chuckling awkwardly. He rubs the scarf a bit. "Yeah, sorry about that, I didn't know what else to do. You were just so... sad. So scared. It genuinely hurt my heart to see the way something I'd done affected you, even if I wasn't the reason for why it happened in the first place. I didn't mean to trigger any sort of trauma. Gods know I go out of my way to help people. It's kind of my thing," he says, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he shrugs and smiles in that way you do when you're trying to dispel tension.
"No, don't be sorry. It worked. I appreciate it. You being there. Helping me. Plus, you have a nice voice," I add, trying to make him feel better. He laughs brightly.
"Thanks! I do like to sing, though normally it's not lullabies, but I'm glad it really showed my talents off." He goes back to making the pants. Genuinely the whole process takes maybe a total of five minutes and a perfectly made pair of pants sits in front of me. Had I not seen it, I would never have believed they were made by hand. They're designed slightly different than they would have been on Earth, and they don't have pockets, but they've got a waistband and they're pretty high quality, too.
"Oh, that's cool! I don't really do anything aside from sword smithing and fighting. I never really ... got into anything? I'm not sure why, I guess. Maybe I just didn't have the energy?" For some reason, I feel totally comfortable telling Benji this. Normally people get all weird when you say sad things like that but Benji just nods, completely understanding, no judgement at all.
"I get that. Sometimes just surviving takes up all the energy you have and there's no room for anything else. Of course, you have to find a way to recharge, which I guess for you would be making swords and hitting people, but if that only lets you break even sometimes there's no way you could juggle a different thing on top of it. It's interesting that you don't consider either of those hobbies, though."
After he'd finished the pair of pants, which look incredibly comfortable and I can't wait to put them on, honestly, he starts working on the hoodie, judging from the color of the fabric he's working with. It's almost a fleece material.
"I hate to change the subject, but what materials are you making this out of? Like what kind of fur or hair or whatever goes into making the fabric you're using?"
"Oh, yeah, uh, the hoodie is being made from Engeru fur, which is a quadrupedal farm animal, basically. They get bred for their fur because it's a great insulator, is very durable and hard to damage, and takes really well to certain fabric dyes. It's pretty much the most common material in clothing aside from rettin. That's a plant. It's basically this fibrous bulb of white material at the end of a stalk that goes into making things like shirts, pants, undergarments, and things for more casual wear."
He points to his own outfit. "This is made almost entirely from rettin, though it's a composite. Engeru is the other material. It's light enough for daily wear, resistant to damage, warm enough I can wear it even on the colder days, and it's also my favorite color. It's also hypoallergenic. People with fur like me used to struggle with clothing, if they wore it at all, because it caused adverse reactions to the skin underneath when it came in contact with it. So they developed rettin, and bred Engeru for that purpose, too. There are dozens and dozens of synthetic materials, but I prefer the natural stuff."
"Oh cool. I didn't know any of that. It's probably dumb of me, but I didn't realize allergies could be a thing for those with fur. I figured it would protect them from that sort of thing? Plus with Essence, you'd think they would have cured that by now. Another thing, what did you mean when you said 'if they wore it at all?' Did people not wear clothes until recently? They were just walking around freeballing it?"
Benji doubles over in laughter. Again, I don't think what I said was very funny, but he finds it hilarious, apparently. "'Freeballing it!' That's hilarious. I've never heard that one before. I might have to steal it from you. But yes, you noticed how Heruutin was wearing nothing but the cloth wrapping which didn't leave, uh, very much to the imagination?" He blushes. I only see it because my eyes are amazing, but the skin underneath his fur around his cheeks darkens. I nod, smirking.
"Well, you might also have noticed how no one batted an eye. It's because it's a recent practice. Up until a dozen or so years ago, only the most humanoid of races were expected to wear clothing and only by their own standards. It's not really a requirement, even now, more of a heavy suggestion as society shifts to find nudity less normalized, though when I say society, I mean those in power. People at our level, our societal rank, don't care, and outside of Esh you're going to see a lot of people, as you said, 'freeballing it.'" He laughs again. He's almost done the hoodie, despite having never seen one before. It's actually almost exactly what I wanted when I asked, aside from the pocket so far. He'll probably put that on after.
"So why did you act like it was weird when you asked if I lived in a nudist colony?"
"Because Zenithals are one of the more humanoid races. You have largely human bodies, if different in many areas. From the shins up and the mouth down, you're all but human. You're pretty much expected to wear clothing, so I joked about you living in a nudist colony when you didn't know how the tailoring process worked. I've never seen a store of clothes for generally sized individuals and aren't personally made for someone, but I suppose it makes sense that's possible.
"Oh, that's interesting. I'll admit it would be weird to see just everyone walking around without clothes on. I suppose I'm glad you warned me about that before I actually encounter it."
"Yeah, I admit I'm shocked that you weren't aware of that, but I suppose I shouldn't be given where you grew up." His mood darkens slightly, but he doesn't let it show in his body language. Does he not know I can smell his emotions? Is that not common knowledge? Sytoria seemed to know about it. Would it be rude to bring up that he doesn't need to try and hide how he feels because it wouldn't work, anyway? Is that creepy? Ah, so many new things I'm going to have to navigate.
"It's okay. You'll just have to put up with my incessant questions about how the outside world works," I joke.
He smiles, joy flooding him once again. "I would be more than happy to serve as your repository of worldly knowledge."
The hoodie is finished, he places it atop the first pair of pants. "I'll make my own later. We can wear them tomorrow when we go to your meeting with Forgemaster Luchyr. She'll get a kick out of it." He smiles brightly again. Full of those, this one is. "How do you like your undergarments to look? Similar to how Heruutin's looked, more of a typical human undergarment where it looks like a thin, tight pair of shorts? I admit I don't understand the desire, but it's your clothing, so we'll do what you want."
"Don't understand the desire for what? Underwear?"
"Is that what you call them? 'Underwear?' I don't think I've heard any of the others use the word. Cool! Anyway, yeah, I don't understand wanting to feel restricted like that, I guess. I've been told it's to keep everything hidden or 'in place,' as it were, but it's not like it's a surprise or anything. You're born naked, after all."
"That's ironic coming from someone who literally makes clothes," I point out, amused.
"Well, clothing is all about expressing yourself. Underwear, as you call it, isn't seen. It's entire purpose is to remain hidden and to restrict your, uh, natural anatomy, is it not? That sounds really uncomfortable."
"So you're saying you don't wear it, then?"
Benji stutters, embarrassed. "We-well, of course I don't! I just tol—"
"You're freeballing it all the time? Hanging free? Swinging in the wind?" I continue, having fun with the way he gets redder and redder in the cheeks as I keep making jokes.
"I just do—"
"Why are you getting embarrassed if you don't understand why people wear it, huh?"
"I'm not emb—"
"Your cheeks are as red as some parts of the wall," I point out. He huffs and stamps a hoof, flustered, his arms crossed and his ears twitching. I smirk. So cute.
Gah, brain, shut up.
"Fine! Yes, I get it. I suppose it depends on your sensibilities. If you aren't comfortable with naturalism, then you're going to be uncomfortable with the prospect of others seeing areas that are private. I guess I didn't realize I've come to internalize some of these beliefs, even if I haven't exactly practiced them. Now, I'm shifting the subject, you ass."
"Benji, did you just call me an ass?" I smirk.
"Yes." He says, smiling.
"I didn't even know you knew any swear words."
"You called me a kiss ass earlier!" He cries, indignant, his voice raising in amused exasperation.
"Sure, sure, and you offered to do it if it would make me feel better, I seem to recall." I smile. Teasing him is fun.
He blushes fiercely. "Well, I ju- I wanted- I was trying to cheer you up! I wasn't serious."
"I don't knowww," I continue, "It sounded like you were serious. I might have to tell on you to Sytoria, even. That's how serious it sounded."
"Come on! Don't be like that!" He knows I'm playing, but he's still getting flustered anyway.
"I don't know what you mean, ass kisser."
"Oh shut up! Kiss my ass, you ... you ass!"
I mock gasp. "Hello? Sytoria? Benji wants me to kiss his ass! This has to be some sort of violation," I laugh, playing into the bit. "Can you come save me?"
He steps out from behind his desk and goes to put a hand over my mouth but I side step him.
"Now he's trying to capture me! Sytoria!" I'm not being loud, but he's still trying to shush me. He's genuinely embarrassed but also having fun. He's happy to see me happy. I suppose I am, too.
"Zed! Come on! Stop teasing me! I don't want her to hear you. Please! I finished your clothes! Go put them on," he says, insistent, his arms going in to grab me, presumably to pick me up and carry me toward the clothes. I duck. He's wayyy too slow to actually touch me if I don't want him to. I do stop, though. The bit is done. Any more would be excessive.
"Fine!" I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. "I guess I can go try them on. They look really nice. Thank you," I compliment. He smiles, heaving a breath of relief, joy taking over the embarrassment and laughter bubbling in his chest.
The clothes fit quite nicely, though I can't see them on myself while in the bedroom. The underwear does what underwear should, having been designed in a boxer brief manner. They'd been made out of a soft gray fabric. The pants hug my legs down to my ankles, even adjusting for the avian anatomy of my lower legs. It is hard to curl my talons in enough that putting my legs through don't tear them, but I manage it by going slow. The hoodie is slightly baggy, but that's how they're supposed to be. It fits perfectly, and it's really warm and comfortable. I stuff my hands into the pockets and wince as I hear a rip. I forgot about the talons on my fingers. Shit.
"Uh, Benji?" I call out through the door.
"Yes?" He answers.
"How mad would you be if I accidentally put a hole in the hoodie?"
"Not at all! I can fix it in literally a second. Come out here," he says back. I can hear the smile in his voice.
I do so. His eyes widen when he sees me. A different feeling hits my nose then, warmer, fuller. I'm actually not going to explore that right now. He likes how I look, to say the least.
"Oh wow, you look great!" He greets, looking at his work. I smile.
"Thanks, everything is super comfortable."
"Now about this rip."
"It's right here," I lift the pocket to show him the underside where it was torn. He just grabs it between his thumb and forefinger and drags it along the rip, magically zipping it shut.
"That's really cool. I haven't started doing anything with Spells yet. I only have one. Everything else I have are Skills." Those [Master of...] Skills read somewhat like Spells given how I understood Aethos's explanation, but who am I to refute a literal God?
"That's fine. I only have one Skill. It just lets me keep my body as still as I need to for when I have to actually use needles to do the finer, more intricate stuff."
"Ah, okay, I see. Everyone is different, I suppose."
He nods. "Alright so now that you're all set with this one outfit, and you don't need to worry about footwear given you're a Zenithal, I think that's everything for now. Let me message Auntie and tell her what the plans are."
"Yeah, she said to let you know that she wanted you to take me over to where she was going to have me stay after I was done here. Sorry, I totally forgot to tell you."
"No, it's okay. I knew that, actually. She told me herself after you left. She's efficient like that. Doesn't leave anything to others if she can do it herself. She even told me where it is. Just give me a second here and we can head out, alright?"
I nod. He opens up a drawer in the desk by the front door and pulls out a small little disk with a circle on it and some weird shapes and lines. I'm assuming it's a Spell Array.
He touches it and it lights up momentarily before darkening again.
"Hey, Auntie," he says out loud. There's no answer that I can hear but he keeps talking anyway, so it must be in his head somehow?
"Yeah, we're all set. Was it? We just got to talking, so we must have lost track of time. Yes, I'll have his clothes within the next few days. No, I don't need more gold. Yes, it was way more than enough to do everything. Yes, I'll make enough of a profit off of it. You're spoiling me," he rolls his eyes the way one would at a parent. "We're headed there now. Yes. Okay. Bye, Auntie. I'll see you later."
He says goodbye, turns to me and claps his hands, rubbing them together, smiling.
"Alright! Let's go see where you're going to be staying for the foreseeable future!"
I'm surprised to find that I'm actually looking forward to it.