An end to a long, long day.

As John showered, he took stock of the day, starting with the most recent events. His escapades with his houseguest had not gone unnoticed; he’d obtained two achievements, each with sizable bonuses… though truthfully, the experience had been its own reward.

Achievement Unlocked! - “Courting Summer”
Be intimate with a member of the Summer Court.
+3 Charisma
+1 Libido

Achievement Unlocked! - “Size Doesn’t Matter”
Have sex with someone too big or too small for meaningful penetration.
+1 Endurance
+1 Libido

Interacting with the fae apparently caused it to rain charisma, and it was a welcome upgrade to his lowest stat. The libido wasn’t bad either, since it was the only one he couldn’t raise voluntarily… but the real bounty was the experience. It almost made up for failing the optional portion of the daily quest and brought him nearly halfway to level 8. All in all, not so bad.

At least… compared to the rest of the day.

By the time John stepped out of the shower, Adorabelle had already toweled off and conjured up a new dress for herself. She was sitting on the edge of the sink and trying to style her hair using a box of floss. The fae girl looked over at him with an annoyed pout.

“Don’t you have anything less… waxy than this stuff?” she yanked on the floss too hard and it snapped, unleashing her hair all over her face. For a couple seconds, Adorabelle struggled to push it out of her eyes, swearing the whole time.

John snorted and busied himself with toweling off, taking some extra care with his left arm. There were still traces of the paint he’d used to cover up his new tattoo, and they left obvious stains on the white towel. He shook his head. There had to be a better way to conceal the design; even if nobody noticed at all today, he couldn’t keep it hidden forever. People would discover it eventually.

Starting, apparently, with his fae companion, “Oh hey! Fuckboy’s got some ink!” Adorabelle had given up and let her hair rest sloppily about her shoulders, instead flying over to hover beside his arm. “Strange,” she mused, “it doesn’t feel like your style.”

“Not like I asked for it,” John grumbled.

“Why don’t you just hide it then?”

“Right, and how exactly am I supposed to do that?” he said, turning his arm back and forth. “I can’t just wear long sleeves all the time.”

Adorabelle looked up at him as if John were the biggest idiot she’d ever seen. She reached out to put a tiny hand on his arm, “Magic, you utter numbskull.” A ripple in the air moved outwards from where she touched him, practically invisible except where it crossed his inked skin. The tattoo dissolved and vanished entirely.

“Whoa!” John barely missed hitting the hovering pixie with a flailing arm.

“Hey! Watch the-”

“-fuck did you just do to me?”

Adorabelle let out a dramatically exasperated groan and snapped her fingers, backing a foot away from the panicked human. For a second, his arm appeared to be covered in a thin layer of water, or glass, then it was gone, and the tattoo was back. She rolled her eyes, “It’s just an illusion.”

John blinked at his arm. It made sense. He poked the skin of his arm in contemplation. The lizardman elder that had inscribed it had given him a spell through the design… he looked over at Adorabelle. The fae girl met his gaze with an odd mixture of irritated amusement. It was worth a try.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” he asked.

“Huh?” the fairy blinked and then looked away for a second. She shrugged, her wings fluttering, “Dunno. Maybe. I’ve never tried?”

John finished toweling off and tossed the now soaked cloth back on the rack. He glanced at Adorabelle, who was levitating absentmindedly. Slowly, her wings beat in a fashion that mirrored her distracted expression but nowhere near fast enough to plausibly keep her upright. Maybe they were just for show?

“Oh! I know!” the tiny girl turned around in midair and flitted over to his shoulder. She settled on it, though she nearly slipped off when he stretched. John immediately regretted it, as the fae yanked painfully on his ear in retribution, “Asshole.”

Her annoyance was short lived, quickly replaced by exuberance, “Anyway, there might be a way. Sometimes, wizards make deals with members of the Court to borrow their skills.” Adorabelle waved her hands as though to outline something, but it was too small for John to identify. “Kinda like a familiar on a contract? I’ve never done it myself, but I don’t see any reason why I couldn’t.”

John had crossed the hall to his room while the fae described her plan and felt her weight lift off his shoulder as he leaned down to grab a pair of boxers off the floor. They vanished from his fingers, appearing around his waist as he equipped them. Once he was dressed, he took a seat at his desk, Adorabelle flying down to sit cross-legged on it.

“So, how would it work… exactly?” he asked.

The fae propped an elbow on one leg and set her chin against her palm. She looked down in thought for a couple seconds before replying, “The way they always did it was an exchange. A-” without warning, Adorabelle’s voice took on a different cadence, echoing faintly, “Favor of a mortal, in payment for services rendered by the Court.”

John leaned back slightly, Erica’s words echoing in his mind.

...you'd owe her, and you do not want to be in debt to one of them.

His hesitation was clear on his face, and Adorabelle’s excitement faded away. The tiny girl’s shoulders drooped, and her smile fell. John looked down at the pixie and pushed aside the warning. She might be abrasive and… well… Adorabelle, but she’d put her trust in him. It was only fair he do the same.

“What would I owe you?” he asked.

The fae perked up immediately. She jumped to her feet, her wings unfurling in excitement. “Oh! Um…”

“You don’t know, do you?” John covered his face with one hand, the other arm folded across his chest. He thought for a second before suggesting, “How about I get you something? Another drink, maybe?”

“Sure,” Adorabelle said offhandedly. “In return, I’ll lend you my illusions to hide that tattoo.”

John nodded and extended a hand towards the fae. “It’s a deal, then.” The pixie reached out and grabbed his index finger. His skin tingled.

Achievement Unlocked! - “A Small Favor”
Become indebted to a member of the Fae. Be careful with that…
+1 Intellect
+Jar of Pixie Dust

You now owe Adorabelle of the Summer Court a [Minor] Favor.

Spell Learned: Glamour ~ 1
Minorly alter the appearance of your body or clothing.
Cost: 21 mp
(Domain: Illusion)
[Spell obtained via Adorabelle of the Summer Court]

John dismissed the popups and tried out his new spell. Placing his right hand against his left forearm, he called up a mental image of tattoo-less skin. A nearly-invisible wave of magical energy rolled over it, as it had with Adorabelle, but when it settled, John had only managed to mostly erase the design. It now looked like he’d attacked his arm with a sharpie.

From her position on his desk, Adorabelle watched with interest. She giggled at his amateurish attempt and only shrugged when John glared at her, “Close enough.”

“Yeah… yeah…” he replied, trying again. The second attempt wasn’t any better, looking instead like he’d smeared black watercolor over his skin. Hopefully, he’d get the hang of it quickly enough that nobody noticed anything. In the meantime, he could fulfill the terms of his owed Favor, “So, what do you want me to get you? More bourbon?”

“Actually,” the fae started, and John’s heart skipped a beat. Had he misjudged the pixie? “I think I’ve had enough to drink for tonight.” She punctuated her sentence with a genuine yawn, and he could feel the exhausted undertone in Adorabelle’s voice. It wasn’t just her, either. He’d had a long day, although ever since he’d woken up with superpowers the days felt longer.

Today was no exception, and John struggled not to reciprocate the fae’s yawn with one of his own. He nodded, “Probably a good idea. It’s pretty late anyway.” As he spoke, John looked over at his bed, his very human-sized bed, “Right, so how’s this going to work?”

“Huh?”

“I mean sleeping. I don’t want to accidentally crush you in the middle of the night,” John said.

Adorabelle grimaced and shivered, “Winter’s crows…” Clearly, she was no fan of the idea either.

John sat on the corner of his bed in deep thought. If only there were a way to get something more… fae-sized… He glanced at his phone. Oh. Of course.

“A cat bed?” No sooner had the Abyss Auction delivery drone arrived with Adorabelle’s bed than the tired pixie began a tirade of outrage, “I’m not a pet!”

John sighed and pulled out the bed. It resembled a hood, with plenty of space inside and even came with a small pillow. Honestly, it seemed more comfortable than his mattress. “Come on, this is better than a dollhouse bed. Not that you’d fit in one of those anyway…” he said, fluffing out the inside. “Just give it a try.”

Though she grumbled the entire time, the pixie climbed into the cat bed when he rested it on one side of his own. She sat down with a soft thump and poked the soft cushions below her. “Fine.”

“See? Pretty comfortable, right?” John grinned.

“I. Am not. A. Cat.” Adorabelle hissed back, in a very cat-like way. Despite what she said, the fae curled up inside the shelter and buried her face in the pillow. John rolled his eyes and stood up.

He switched off the lights, leaving only his bedside lamp on, and headed out into the hall to dig around in the house’s laundry closet. Adorabelle was too small to use much as a blanket, and he figured she’d take offense at a pair of his boxers, so John elected to grab a couple of hand towels.

When he got back to his bed, John was unsurprised to find the fae girl already asleep. She snored softly and stirred as he draped the towels over her, turning over to pull them into a tight bundle around her body.

“G’night… fuckboy…” she murmured. John grinned.

You know, despite everything, her name does kind of suit her. Goodnight, Adorabelle.

He reached over and switched off the lamp.

Hey, kiddo. Time for your next lesson.