Okay Noe-chan ^^

I ruffle her pages briefly. 

There's a faint dusting of pencil-shading across her surface, as if blushing.

Kyut!

Okay so - 

Yeah. 

Off. We. Go. 

No point dilly-dallying. 

Alright, one foot in front of the other, proper solid running shoes with all the fixings for proper bloody support with some nice soccer-style socks in my color that cover enough to make sure I'm not making blisters more likely then they have to be. Prob sometime relatively soon I'll cultivate to the point where that wouldn't be a thing even without the injury protection feature, but it's phrased minimalistically that that doesn't feel - quite right, yet. 

I fuss my hand through my hair, and kick out a random little pebble into the muddied red gleaming waters, watching the gleam of the surface scatter into navy ripples. 

Yeah. I don't - actually trust it close to the hurts when it's not that obvious, and I just don't want to be in pain, today, 'cause I'm being an idiot and rubbing myself raw for no reason. Either way it's bloody fine, at the end of the day, but... 

Sigh. 

I unno. 

I wanna.... feel like I'm in a good place, where it's not about that bloody shit, and it's about - being strong and steady and girl and good, not - shying away from the whimpers or waiting around, even if there's notionally a minimized opportunity cost there. 

It's gonna have t' happen, honestly - get me a lil kic kin the ass that tells me that this isn't just a floaty fuzzy prancing perfect dream ready to pop, and that's the point 'f it but. 

I shove my hand in some deep pockets that I'm not entirely sure were there before, pressing my hands up against the side of my thighs as I walk, trying to bury them in the feeling of motion and progress and purpose and to keep a bit of the - nervous jitters away. 

It's - good to talk to noe 'nd all. It's nice to be alone and get a quick lil slapdash adventure on our own. That doesn't... 

I stare up at the sky, watching the way true dusk closes as the sun sinks a lil more below the actual horizon, the spectra of colors filtering down to dreary reds as the dark crawls in a bit. 

it's just that it also doesn't fucking stop it from feeling weirdly - empty? 

Part of the purpose of noe is to be like - neat and chill and unobtrusive and not in the way of the actual like - later customized adventure shit where the spirit does tha ctual like - bulk of the intervention, I imagine. She's customer service, she's friendly, she's front line, and she's only sorta part of the - infrastructure of the delivery and - 

yaaaaaay I'm letting myself get lost in thought again shyly ^^

There's no - simple way to skip ahead to the point where I have all the friends and bitches and people and just, everything, in a way taht's earend or reasonably paced or wahtever, I know that, of course I bloody know that, but I still feel like I'm supposed to be - talking to someone, angling onto someone, looking at a cutie's face and discerning the fine details of their soul and pleasing them and I just - 

Probably a good bit of the point of noe-chan no'ebooking is that you don't do that in a smol hidden away way, that you confess or you just work w/ what you can offer, outside of the scope of the inner secrets being super duper exposed. 

And I do wanna be open but just - 

I look down at myself, watching the shimmering red bob of hair - it's probably redder and brighter and clearer and glossier then makes any sense in the lighting, but that's still how it's supposed to look, and down at my chest and - 

This feels, relatively speaking, naked enough already, fuck. 

It's just so - 

I bounce in place a lil, and then kick my knees up to my shoulders, broad breasts flouncing up against my shoulders as I just feel out the limberness and the lightness and bloody girlness of it all. It's so gender and it's gonna take a while to feel like I'm not prancing around with 'stare at me you slut' painted on my breasts, even if that's - 

I bite my lip in a light lil grin. 

Not the worst thing to feel ^^ 

There's - more to do and feel and work on and I'm not in a bloody rush, I know that, that's the whole point of gettin' the pacin' drawback and the time w/ friends just - thing. I'm sure that you can figure out things for multipresence eventually but - 

Doesn't feel right to - end up focusing all that shit around the concessions of that. Should be - proper, and focused, and it shouldn't make me - worse, to be the thing that they love, y'know? 

But that's just - idle talk, mostly, though...

I do hope that there's someone cute to pounce, once I get there... 

- The walk's a while, still. It's hard not to think too hard on what that means, that I'm feeling that, I suppose.

Mostly it's just hard to remember how easy it was to get - tetchy, about this back - 

'home'. 

I tsk. 

Yeah okay that's gonna take some dissolving too, nooooooooooted. 

Being outside is hard, being away from some more - knowable safety and surety is hard. Honestly if anything kind of grateful that I don't have enough of a spiritual sense to actually tell when the wards faded out - was so much easier to grab a sense of the weaknesses when it could still be a trap or a ploy or some - trick that was my opponent, but now it's more just - quiescent. Bet I could still figure it out by going through the steps and checks but... 

Nah. 

It's not the time. 

I let the idle worried thoughts ease off into the background, behind the blur of crunching ground and wooshing wind as I walk for a good while longer. It's what maybe... 20-30 minutes, by reckoning, before I start to see the place I'm looking for, by which point the dusk has mostly settled in, only a bit of sky glow and the soft radiance of some smoldering fires to light up the wooded space. 

At a distance, it looks... pretty normal, honestly - a big squat log cabin-esque thing, with a patio with a handful of tables out front and some rooms shoved up top and to the sides of the main space, with a handful of windows, some covered with cloths and others spilling out the dim yellow glow of firelight just about the only thing to break up the wall. There's a sign, too, in the style of those old english pubs, too, I think, though can't quite make it out from here... 

I pause a bit, and take a moment to - decide, I guess. 

Think it's still me - just - want to keep this simple enough and get one - movement through here, too, then we can settle back and get more of us oriented to being - this us, yeah? Know it's gonna be a while truckload of gender the mo that we start actually getting more of us worked out, and that doesn't sound like that'll stop at the good overlaod, right now. 

Clothes, clothes clothes... 

Something cultivator-y, for sure, but not to presumptuous - let's say... a nice billowy overcoat with lining in my blue and... yeah just a dusting of blue hue in in white against the white underthing. Make it push up a touch 'cause why not and have that innocent lil microtinge of cleavage, let it cling a little, not too indecently or enough to really show off the curves but enough to make them obvious at inference and get part value, especially in motion, you know? Make it flutter in the air if I can do that, and... idk, simple leather sandals, a belt, a proper lil full ass coin satchel... sure. 

Okay. 

I take a moment to make sure that I'm not winded and just - step forward, confident and steady, one foot in front of the other. 

Keep it steady, keep it normal, keep it me. 

I glance up, 'cause that's my normal instinct, and take in the sign. 

"Mic's Mugs Pub and Inn" 

There's a cute lil mug on the sign, and a neat serif font complete with stylized steam spilling up around the sides. It's kind of adorable, honestly, and a touch more modern in design then I expected

Sure. Okay. 

Let's see what this place is like... 

I stroll in through the door, and take a good long look. 

It's nice and big and homey, buncha big wooden tables splayed out, with some side rooms on the side set aside by heavy doors, and wickety staircase leading up to some of the room just past the main desk, with bottles all lined up nicely on the shelf. 

At the front there's a little desk with a container full of sheafs of printed paper, and some scattered menu stuff at the back too. 

And... 

The people... 

A woman with cherry red hair that spills down her firm shoulders in a way that feels like it ought to be the sort of thing that you can only do with modern cosmetics and a lot of fussing, waves and a bounce that makes it look so manicured, against a sweeping white robe that shows off her deep olive complexion. She's a touch on the tall side, though probably a good bit of that impression comes from the slimness of her curves and her poise. There's probably a dagger at her hip, from the look of that nice lil leather belt... 

She's certainly angling herself to look like a cultivator, even if she isn't quite one yet. She's glancing attentively at the rest of the table, but her eyes were wandering down a little... 

A slighter woman, bright and eager, with a cupid bow face and soft black hair that streams down her back nicely. It's lustrous and nice, a good bit nicer then I'd expect given the admittedly a touch ratty cloak affair, and a gymnast's slim streaming muscle and gentle curves. She's all nervous smiles and fussy fingers against her steaming cup she's maybe a little too excited to drink. 

A perfect image of a japanese hostess, fussing over the contents of the bar, black hair and a modestly enshrouding kimono, with a cute heart-shape faced and a serious steady smile. 

A girl with a wash of brown hair and a thorough focus on her sauced up meal, and a fine melange of glass sitting in a pendant atop her heart that's gotta be enchanted. 

Lessgo! 

And

time 

itself 

shifted.