Casual Socialising

“...Uh, what the heck am I holding, cutie?” Asta asked, looking between the bar of metal in her hand, the pile of assorted resources on her worktable, and John who had just pulled them out of thin air.

To be fair to her, most people would probably be confused by this turn of events. At least, John thought as much. Then again, John didn’t think any of this was real a couple of weeks ago- a few days ago? This time dilation stuff was so confusing, he was almost glad it was over, even if it had been useful for training his new skills.

He fired off an Observe at what she was holding. “Uhh…That, apparently, is a coldsteel ingot, a minorly magical material which-”

“-infuses its creations with a slight permafrost enchantment if applied in conjunction with the correct haft materials and-” She cut herself off and pinned John with a look. “Where’d you get this stuff, Mr. ‘I have no gear’?”

John had the good grace to blush a bit and look embarrassed. “Uh… Would you just take it as late bloomer nonsense?”

Asta raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, and was about to say something when the door opened and Kitty wandered in, momentarily distracting the room. She looked much the same as before, though in slightly different clothes, and rather significantly different was the enormous sword that was strapped across her back. The hilt stuck out above her head, and the tip of the blade danced around her calves with every step.

She let a slight smile cross her face at the sight of the visitors, politely greeting them, “Ah, welcome. It is good to see you all.” Then she also caught sight of the pile of materials and raised an eyebrow. “And, what exactly is this, might I ask?”

John threw a hopeful glance at the women with him, clearly wishing for a bail out. No such luck would be forthcoming, if the grin from Erica and the way Moira avoided making eye contact were any indicators.

“Uhhh…” John sighed a bit, uncertain of exactly what to say. “My powers sometimes… give me rewards? These are some of them.” He saw them exchange looks of surprise, reminding him of how unusual it was to have resources appearing from nothing, even for late bloomers. Probably for the best that he didn’t specify it was from barriers, and potentially an infinite source of resources for as long as he lived. Nonetheless, it was probably best to try and divert that conversation early. “These are most of them, since I can’t really do anything with materials like you can, Asta, and you were so, uh, helpful and stuff with all my gear, and- God, I’m babbling, I’m gonna just- oof”

His unfortunate bout of babbling cut off somewhat suddenly as a small person-shaped projectile with an amazing ass clad in purple crashed into him and wrapped him in an enormous hug and a loud “EEEEE” noise. It was… unfamiliar, but nice, to have people actually be willing to hug him. Sure, he technically paid for this hug with all the material junk he couldn’t use, but still. It was nice.

He caught a glimpse of Kitty giving him a little smile over Asta’s shoulder, an approving glint in her eyes, just at the moment that the squeeing in his ear stopped and he heard Asta’s soft voice whisper in his ear, “I knew you were a good one, cutie.”

She untangled herself and moved away, the change only half-recognised by John as he processed the feminine voice in his ear, and the nubile little body that had clung to his own. Sure, he’d been getting more of that over the past almost-week, but… damn.

Ignoring the distracting stiffy threatening the seams of his pants, John turned his eyes to the woman dancing around the workshop. She was… humming? Singing? Somewhere between the two, as she twirled from place to place doing something, the long points of her high heels barely touching the ground. After a couple of moments, he realised that she was storing some of the materials, and stacking a small amount on an empty worktable, just to the left of her primary space.

“You’ve made her day, you know,” a soft, almost husky voice lilted quietly to his ear, and he turned to see Kitty had moved closer to him. Her ice-blue eyes were watching the little woman as she worked, usually-sharp features softened to an almost pretty expression of attentive adoration. He’d only seen her once before, but both back then and earlier when she had entered, her features couldn’t have been called pretty. Striking, yes. Beautiful, absolutely. But pretty was far too soft a descriptive for how her features portrayed themselves before.

The pair watched the little woman spin and twirl through the space for another few moments together, in a comfortable quiet. Eventually, she let out a small exhale, and turned slightly to look at him. Now, her eyes seemed sharp once more, piercing and full of a slow, creeping cold. Strangely enough, she wasn’t unfriendly, but John couldn’t work out what it was before a familiar sense of anxiety crept into his chest at the analysing stare.

She spoke, “You are a late bloomer.” John nodded, uncertain. “You are a, ah, a baresark, berserk, you have said.” He nodded again, the anxiety growing slightly, mixing with confusion. “And now, you bring these things. Spoils, taken from challenges fallen before you?”

“Y-yes?”

Her eyebrows drew slightly closer together, a small frown forming. “Is that an answer, or a question?”

John **** himself to straighten his spine, and answered more firmly, “An answer. Yes, it’s… something like that.”

She stared for several moments longer, and John felt his **** confidence begin to fade and slip. Before it could fail him entirely, however, the redhead nodded once, sharply, and said, “Very well. As I previously asked your tutor, I would fight beside you for a battle, if I may.”

John blinked.

A pause passed, and Kitty spoke again, clearly taking his silence for indecision, “I have heard tales, myths, of the prowess of baresark warriors, and find myself curious as to how one lost in the battlelust may fight without care. I understand if it is something you are unwilling-”

John raised his hands and shook his head. “No, no. I don’t, uh, I don’t mind. I just… I wasn’t expecting it, I guess. I’m completely fine with you, uhm, watching? Or, I guess, fighting near me? But, uh…” he glanced over at where Moira and Erica were watching him stumble his way through the sentence with near identical amused expressions, “I know you said you asked, but the Order has been covering me so far? So I think you might want to check with Moira- uh, that is, Miss- I mean Lady… Warden? Brighton?”

The redhead faced the Warden and warrior, eyebrow raised, and asked, “Virtuous Guardian of the Golden Rose, may I be sheltered beneath your eaves and welcomed by your hearth?”

Moira showed no particular reaction, her features schooled to neutrality as she ignored Erica’s random snickering at her side, and said, “I welcome you… Katherine. I have no issue with you joining the next combat excursion we enter with John.”

Kitty nodded, and turned back to watching Asta.

John wasn’t sure whether to respect the self-confidence Kitty was showing, or judge her apparent lack of social skills. Which, coming from John, of all people…

—-

“Hold it. Hold it, John. Come on, a bit more… Okay.”

John let out a big exhale, tension leaving his body and dropping like a puppet with its strings cut, barely keeping himself sat upright.

It was the last day they’d be doing training, with Erica’s upcoming transfer to Canada on the horizon, so she’d decided to take it easy and do some rage control exercises. As much as he didn’t like doing them, he could admit that they were doing… something.

He’d managed to take that weird aware yet uncontrolled rage and make it so he could, under calm circumstances, **** a little bit of agency over his actions. It wasn’t great - in fact, it barely let him do things, and he couldn’t speak or he’d lose it - but it was at least a little step forwards.

The downside was that, if he lost that control, he lost the awareness as well. So far, he’d been woken up no less than seven times with a lingering cold numbness in his limbs and an apologetic smile from the blonde. It was distinctly not his favourite thing.

He groaned loudly and whined, “Can we be done now? No more, please…”

Erica laughed lightly at his pathetic display, and clapped a warm hand to his shoulder, “What’s the matter, buddy? Trying to get rid of me already?”

John sat up suddenly, moving in clear panic. “What? No, no! That’s not-”

“Woah.” Her features dropped into concern, and the hand on his shoulder started bracing him as she quickly moved to crouch in front of him. Her eyes searched his face for answers. “Dude, hey, I was just joking, yeah? Chill.”

He **** himself to stillness, and calmed himself as best he could, only stopping when the blonde eventually moved away. “I, uh… I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t want you to think that- I’d actually prefer if you- I don’t want to get rid of you.”

John internally cursed his inability to speak about anything important without sounding like an idiot, and the fact that he could feel his face burning with an embarrassed blush.

Instead of the casual dismissal he’d have expected, Erica made a small little huffing laugh-like noise, and when she spoke, her voice was gentler than he’d heard her before, “John, I was just joking around. I know you don’t want me gone. Do you really think I’d have spent my last week helping you out if I thought you didn’t care?”

She raised an eyebrow, and he hated how he had to clear his throat to stop mumbling when he answered, “I guess- ahem I guess not.”

“Damn right.” She smiled, one cool hand moving down to grab his wrist gently, stopping the nervous dry-washing he had been doing. “I coulda been spending that week doing all the shit I’ve not done yet, and instead I chose to help you.” She stood, shifting her grip to take his hand and pull him up to his feet. “So have a little faith, alright? I know you’re not an asshole, you’re way too nice to be one.”

She grinned brightly at him, and John’s heart stuttered a little. He was suddenly very aware of how close she was, how cool the skin of her hand was in his, how nice she was being… and weirdly enough, he was suddenly missing holding Velvet’s hand.

A blush overtook his cheeks again, and his eyes flitted from their still-joined hands to her face and back. Erica tracked the look, and then her eyes blew wide. She let go, and smirked at him, raising her hands in a show of innocence as she said, “Uh, dude, I know that was intense, real depraved stuff, that handholding, but no worries, yeah? Vel’s claim is safe there.”

John blushed, again, fiercely, but managed to ask, “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t have anything to worry about, is what I’m sayin’. You’re not my type.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or not. It stung a little, regardless, what with it being an obvious rejection, but-

Erica had turned and started heading to the exit, when she spoke over her shoulder, “You might wanna look out though. I mean, how much she loves jelly beans… a girl can dream, you know?”

There was a solid moment where there should have been a loading circle over John’s head, before he discreetly half-shouted after her,