Renfaire Fantasy: Morning Recap (Patreon)

    Kelly had been dreading this LARP practice thing they had planned for the entire past week, and now that the day finally arrived she was being extra careful to conceal her complete lack of enthusiasm. Dressing up in costumes, playing pretend, and the whole mock-fighting thing just wasn’t for her, and she felt like it never would or could be. At the same time, however, it was plain to see that Brian and Emily both were having a blast with all of this stuff. So, Kelly swallowed her petty grievances deep down, and made sure she kept all traces of disdain and annoyance from appearing in her expression.

    It helped to just gaze at Brian, because he was incredibly scrumptious to look at. He had started growing in a beard. They hadn’t even been sure Brian could grow facial hair, because the idiosyncrasies of which body hair the charm effect automagically deleted from them overnight were still a mystery to them. So, a few days ago when they realized his cheeks and chin were beginning to darken with stubble, Kelly was over the moon. Brian already looked good normally, he was a handsome guy and just the act of checking him before set Kelly’s kitty purring along like a little motor.

    When she looked at him now, now that he had a bit of a beard? She wasn’t just purring down there, she was thrumming, throbbing, it was the rich ripping and revving of a much larger and more powerful engine that had her entire body vibrating for sex. The sex of course which had been abundant, with them all going at it as if possessed for almost all hours whenever they weren’t at their work shifts. Not long ago at all Kelly had been face down and ass up in the apartment’s tiny kitchenette, getting fucked into a very satisfying stupor.

    She could still feel the tingles and tremors from that.

    They had been planning this outing for a while though, and so with great reluctance Kelly found herself sitting shotgun in Brian’s car as he whisked them away to their first Daegonhir practice, where they would be swatting around at each other with silly foam swords instead of rutting nonstop like lusty beasts in the ever-present sex musk of their apartment. Emily was in the backseat jabbering away in usual fashion while they all pretended to listen, Christine was back there somewhere being quiet and pitiful, and Brian was driving, one hand on the wheel in a relaxed pose.

    “She’s gonna be proud of us, seriously,” Emily insisted. “We bring much honor to her clan. She’s gonna freak out. She’ll have been all thinking that we’re like, total newbs and all unprepared and will have nothing, when really—”

    “Em, we’re not exactly super prepared,” Brian hedged with a grin. “I mean. Hopefully we’re a little better off than the average newbs? Marginally? But—”

    “Pssh, a little?” Emily was indignant. “Try like way way better. We have fookin’ swords already. We have tunics.”

    “A single tunic, between the four of us,” Brian corrected. “Not counting yours, obviously. Mine isn’t—”

    “Yours still counts!” Emily said. “So, ‘tween Christine’s and yours? Tunic and a half. So what if it isn’t finished?! Like, for real back in the day peasants didn’t all have completely finished tunics. They just wore whatever they had, bro. For real. Look it up.”

    Upon Emily’s eager insistence, they’d held a ‘build night’ in secret from Rebecca before this first LARP practice, with the four of them sitting together on the living room floor with two rolls of blue camping pad foam and some fiberglass rods. Making a mess, cutting everything up and haphazardly glueing the foam into the approximations of weapons with dry contact cement. They had discovered an entire series of Daegonhir videos online showing how to construct simple swords specifically for those new to live action battlegaming, and Christine as the dainty girl with the cleanest fingers had been in charge of stopping and restarting and replaying the videos over and over from various different points wherever necessary.

    Weapons of dubious construction aside, they’d also gotten started on some medieval fantasy outfits.

    An off-white cotton canvas sheet that had been stashed away deep in the closet to use as a drop-cloth for painting or messy work was cut up and then sewn into a simple tunic shirt for Christine, and with her hair pinned up and wearing just brown leggings beneath the tunic as ‘tights,’ she now sported a sort of pageboy or squire look. Their silver-haired ‘personal assistant’ couldn’t help being slim and incredibly leggy, but this time Christine seemed to be trying to hide more of her feminine beauty and opt for the more androgynous, nondescript appearance of a serf or servant of some kind. Kelly couldn’t help but think that Christine simply didn’t want to draw too much attention, that she wanted to fill a supporting role for the others and not grab too much limelight for herself.

    Brian had cut the remaining drop-cloth material into a longer viking-style tunic pattern for himself, but it was very unfinished. The sleeves weren’t ready yet, and the sides were also still without any stitches to hold them together, meaning it was really just front and back panels in a tunic shape, connected at the shoulders. He wore it anyway like a tabard with a belt over it holding it in place, and weirdly enough it did really resemble some sort of medieval peasant wear. It certainly helped that the incomplete project bared his shoulders and arms, which were positively decadent with definition. Brian had a mouthwatering amount of muscle on display, and with that dark spread of stubble across his face now it made him look rugged in a dangerous way.

    In contrast to those two’s more simple getups, Emily practically looked like a Moroccan princess—she wore an absolutely extravagant medieval tunic gown with embroidered flourish patterns along the neck, the sleeves, and the hem. This was the case because Emily didn’t make her outfit. It had been given to her as hand-me-down ‘feast garb’ from when Rebecca was twelve or thirteen, stuff she had long since grown out of. Even at that age Rebecca had been taller than Emily was now, so even when Emily wore it cinched with a belt it seemed less like an ornate viking tunic, and a bit more like an actual dress. With her fluffy blue pixie cut, it all made Emily look especially dazzling.

    Finally, there was Kelly.

    Kelly was wearing black yoga pants and a gray sports bra.

    The tutorial series they’d listened to over and over during their build session suggested ordinary athletic wear was probably okay if it was just for a Daegonhir practice meetup, but that she would need to wear at minimum some sort of fantasy or historical garb if attending an actual Daegonhir battle or event of some kind. Kelly really had no interest or ability in sewing like the others, so she was banking on Rebecca or someone else having a loaner tunic of some kind available if they absolutely required her to actually play dress up.

    Kelly wasn’t too keen on dressing up in silly medieval stuff in the first place.

    Her long-distance beau Stephanie had messaged her offering to sew her something, and even sent links to example patterns for historical bodices Kelly might like, but… Kelly just didn’t have a lot of interest in live action role play, not like everyone else seemed to. Cosplay at the convention had been one thing, but LARP felt like it took things too far to her, veering off into the territory of weirdos who adopted their niche hobbies as a lifestyle. The LARP people were in her mind just a step above furries—but, not a huge step up.

    “Kelly’s not excited,” Emily observed. This observation sounded a bit like an accusation, but one thrown out in a playful, pouting way.

    “Why am I getting singled out?” Kelly griped. “Christine doesn’t seem super thrilled, either. I’m here, aren’t I? Showing up. Showing up to support my goofball boyfriend and girlfriend in doing whatever makes them happy.”

    “Christine doesn’t ever seem thrilled about anything!” Emily sighed, throwing up her hands. “She went from bitch to boring. Yeah, and it’s not like I’m complaini—”

    “Hey now, that’s not true,” Brian interrupted. “Christine still gets worked up about some things.”

    “Yeah, like—what?” Emily prodded the girl sharing a backseat with her. “Because—”

    “Spankings,” Kelly answered. “She loves spankings.”

    “She does love her spankings,” Brian teased. “Christine? Tell her.”

    “I love being spanked,” Christine reported in a quiet voice.

    “I mean, I’m not saying I want the old Chloe back,” Emily groaned. “No one fucking wants that. But, like? The whole super meek and silent and submissive thing? It’s a bit much. An over-correction? An over-reaction. An… over-correct-reaction? Correaction? Overrect? Heh heh heh—”

    “Let her act like however she wants to be,” Kelly blew her bangs out of her eyes with a puff of her lip. “You’re always on everyone’s case about things, geez.”

    “Nah, like—she’s not Chloe,” Emily made a face. “Now, I legit worry about her? Makes me uncomfortable seeing her be like some battered housewife or whatever, now. Obeying, doing whatever it is we say. Refusing to show any weakness or emotion or, well—”

    “I’m not,” Christine said.

    “You totally are,” Emily groused. “If—”

    “Emmie, chill,” Brian said. “We’re working through all of that with her, at her pace. Alright?”

    “I—fiiine,” Emily sank back into her seat. “Alright. Just, like. Christine? Mammy-long-legs? I worry about you. Alright? I wish you were able to open up more.”

    “Thank you?” Christine said.

    “Once we get our Stephie back, she’ll dig out all your feelings anyways,” Emily muttered. “Can’t hide anything from that psycho!”

    “Emily?” Kelly warned. “If Steph is the feelings police, you don’t have a super clean criminal record in the first place. Do you want to get into how well you’ve been opening up? Working through what you’re feeling and why? Communicating your real problems with everyone, and not using your stupid jokes to hide behind all the time?”

    Emily opened her mouth to retort to that, but after a moment no comeback materialized, so she closed her mouth into a pout instead.

    “That’s what I thought,” Kelly smirked.

    “I’ve made some progress!” Emily said.

    “Yeah, once.” Kelly shot back. “You made one single progress.”

    “Y-you, how do you even quantify that kind of development?!” Emily sputtered. “It’s like, it’s some. Doesn’t gotta count as just like, one singular amount of… personal progress. Growth? Maturity or whatever? It’s some, okay, not one!”

    “I count it as one,” Kelly said. “It’s super easy to keep score. Because if there was ever some second thing you did, then you’d—”

    “Baby, Kitten, you’re bickering again,” Brian pointed out. “If I hadn’t literally seen you sixty-nining each other what, yesterday? I’d think you didn’t even like each other.”

    “I like her mouth when she uses it right?” Kelly sniffed. “When it’s being put to it’s proper use. Stuffed full o’ cock, or smothered with pussy. The rest of the time? Well, we just do our best to put up with it.”

    “Brian, just listen to her—she’s for the streets!” Emily said. “Like yeah, so I’m not so serious all the time and that’s my coping mechanism for stuff, but Kelly’s exactly the same way! ‘Cept, she’s just a total fucking slut about everything, instead. Like yeah okay, bimbo brains, I’m gonna listen to your opinion when you do all your thinking with your tits.”

    “I’m horny, I have big tits, is that a crime?” Kelly retorted. “Whereas you, you’re annoying. Which actually is a way more super serious offense—and it makes me want to bully you.”

    “Girls,” Brian groaned. “C’mon. What’d I tell you about being mean to each other when you’re flirting?”

    “I’m… sorry,” Kelly genuinely apologized. “To… to both of you. To everyone. Emily called Steph a psycho, and even though I knew she OBVIOUSLY wasn’t the least bit serious, I overreacted. Which also—well. Emily does know poking me about Steph puts me all in a mood, and she does it anyways!”

    “Kitten?” Brian asked.

    “Sorry,” Emily griped.

    “Kitten…” Brian pressed.

     “Steph’s not really a psycho,” Emily sighed. “She just does get kinda scary with stuff sometimes. And I mean like, yeah Kelly you are a sex-obsessed total nympho, but when I call you a slut I don’t mean you’re like, a hoe, or sleep around, or anything like that. You only have stuff going on with us, you’ve super super fucking loyal. And, I do appreciate that. There, are we all happy, now?”

    “Well, I do have my eye on a couple young MILFs I’d love to feed to Brian,” Kelly admitted. “That have their curves in allll the right places. I wouldn’t ever cheat on you guys, though. It’d be something we’d have to talk about. Like, a lot. Letting new faces into our circle would be a huge deal.”

    “If you’re implying adding my mom to any of—” Emily began to blurt out in anger.

    “No,” Kelly was quick to clarify. “Not her. Uh, no offense? I mean other MILFs.”

    “My mom’s not a MILF,” Emily growled. “She—she just looks like one. She’s not actually one. Because, none of us want to fuck her. Because, she’s my fucking mom!”

    “Right,” Kelly said, biting back the words she wanted to add. Your mother is fucking scary. Bringing her into our group? Not only no, but HELL no. But we can’t talk about all that with you, yet.

    “Uh-huh,” Emily sounded skeptical. “Because, like. I’ve gotta draw the line there. Okay?”

    “Yeah,” Kelly agreed.

    “I’m being serious,” Emily said.

    “Yeah, me too, I’m really agreeing with you,” Kelly insisted. “We’re not gonna fuck around with your mom. That’s weird.”

    “Uh-huh,” Emily repeated, eyes narrowed. “Who are these MILFs, then?”

    “Candace,” Kelly said. “She was vibing with Brian back at the bonfire we went to. That first one with everybody. Then, there’s this other woman I work with, Joy, who I’d loved to see get dicked down properly. I could make out with her while you play with her tiddies—she’s got a pretty decent rack Emmie, you’d like her—all while Brian could be slamming into her from behind. What? It’d be super hot.”

    “I retract my earlier apology,” Emily remarked in a dry voice. “Kelly is a total fuckin’ sloot.”

    “What would Christine be doing in your little fantasy, then?” Brian asked as if indignant on the girl’s behalf. “I mean, come on you’ve gotta include—”

    “That’s a good point,” Kelly hummed. “Christine, where should you feature in all of my depraved little fantasies? Can’t leave anyone out.”

    “What about Stephie?” Emily said. “She—”

    “Steph’d be making out with Brian while he’s clapping fat MILF cheeks, duh,” Kelly laughed. “While she’s also like cross-connecting all our mental wires and being eyeballs-deep in everyone’s sensations all at once. Easy answer.”

    “Christine?” Brian asked. “What do you think?”

    “I don’t,” Christine answered. “I don’t think. I’ll do what I’m told.”

    “But, what would you want?” Emily questioned. “Liiiike—”

    “That’s what I want,” Christine said. “To not think. To be told what to do. Thinking for myself only ever makes me miserable.”

    “See? See?” Emily said. “Stephie’s gonna be all over that kind attitude, if Christine keeps up that kinda oh why me emo bullshit. We notice it, and she’s barely ever saying anything. To Steph, it’s gonna be like Christine’s squealing in pain all the time, on open channels. Like a stuck pig. All caught up in her own tragedy and despair, twenty-four-seven.”

    “I’m not,” Christine denied.

    “Christine, the halfling has a point,” Kelly sighed. “You need some—”

    “Oi!”

    “—some actionable nice things you can look forward to, or ask for, or whatever,” Kelly continued. “If Steph decides you need to be emotionally audited, you will not have fun with that. Be smart, put in some work now. Rather than paying for it later. Have something to report to her, at least, so she knows you’re doing something about it. Baby steps.”

    “Ask for spankings, you love spankings,” Emily suggested. “Or hell, whatever other kinky submissive stuff you’re getting into. Humiliation play? Something super degrading? Facial abuse?”

    “Whoa whoa whoa,” Brian cleared his throat. “No, nothing actually abusive or harmful. Because, uh. I’m just not into that, and I don’t want that for you, and just—no. Not gonna.”

    “I think butt stuff,” Kelly pondered. “Or, maybe—”

    “Get me pregnant?” Christine shrugged. “I guess.”

    Brian choked at hearing that, and the rest of the car fell suddenly silent as Kelly and Emily had no words to respond to that for a long moment.

    “What the actual fuck?” Emily finally sputtered. “Are you serious?”

    “It would be fitting?” Christine said. “After everything.”

    “I—uhh, I don’t even know how I should interpret that, but,” Brian said. “That would uh, be a lot more—”

    “I’m going to live in perpetual sorrow and never be able to make up for what I’ve done,” Christine shrugged again. “The more I want to devote myself to you and just become your slave to make up for everything, the less comfortable you all are with that. A baby would be—well. A new chapter. Someone I could devote myself to completely, without anyone feeling guilty or weird about it. Or, it would be less so. Because, it would just be normal, natural. Just me being a mom. It would be… constructive?”

    “I mean yeah, but—” Emily hedged.

    “I would feel less useless, less like I’m going to suffer in the perpetual purgatory of my past self. I’ll always be sorry for what I did, I’ll always be responsible for everything, but I also don’t want it to define me forever if we can help it. And, I can’t think of any other way for me to move on, for us to move on. I think I wanted to be a mother someday, anyway. Why not now? I feel like that would be better to resolve sooner rather than later. Some part of me assumes we’ll all have kids at some point, so. I don’t know. Why not?”

    “That’s uh,” Brian paused. “That’s gonna have to be like, a full round table discussion. With everyone on deck. About uh. Where we are with all of that, whether or not we’re ready. Whether we’re doing things for the right reasons, maybe. Or, if—”

    “Oh, it would be,” Christine said. “The right reasons. It wouldn’t be like a punishment, except for Chloe. Deep, deep down to where it’s hard to even admit because it’s so selfish, I really do just want your baby. Want you to be the father of my child. Or children. We all probably do? Who else would we want it from? There’s—”

    “Not me,” Kelly blurted out. “I’d be a terrible fucking mom.”

    “No, you wouldn’t,” Emily scoffed. “Shut uppp.”

    “Yes, I would,” Kelly said. “The last thing some poor kid needs is me as their—”

    “Kell,” Brian stopped her there. “You’re dead wrong. You’d be great.”

    “I figured we’d all get preggo together?” Emily said. “But, like. Someday. Not uh, not necessarily super soon?! It still feels like all that secret magic bullshit is kinda hanging over our heads, like it’d be weird to make some fucking huge serious long term commitment right in the middle of all of that.”

    “Yeah,” Brian said. “Agreed, definitely. I’d want things a bit more, uh. Stable. Would want all of us together. Living together, with all of that situation sorted out. Not adding any more people to the circle once we’re settled down. Want to be like, locked in for that. Completely locked in. You know?”

    “Okay, yeah,” Emily nodded. “Makes total sense. You cool with waiting a bit longer, Chrissie?”

    “Whatever you want,” Christine bowed her head. “I… um. I thought you’d just completely reject me or talk me down once I finally brought it up. I guess I’m surprised.”

    “I’m surprisingly not against it?” Brian said. “But. We’d all want to have things more figured out. With each other, with our situation—with everything. Too much feels like it’s up in the air, right now.”

    “Just, I don’t know,” Kelly made a face. “Kids? Screaming, wailing, shitty diaper nuisances taking up all our time and attention for like eighteen or more years? Becoming lifelong problems? My bestie Chelsea had to go through all that, and—”

    “Psh, yeah right,” Emily rolled her eyes. “Steph’s gonna be first on board with all the baby craze nonsense. She’ll pop one out, and you’ll hold li’l Suzie-Sue in your arms and fall in love right away, and—”

    “Suzie-Sue?” Brian laughed. 

    “Emma-Marie?” Emily guessed. “Aubry-Anne? Isn’t it a midwestern thing to always go for the two-part names? Betty-Sue, Anna-Marie, Clara-Belle—”

    “Steph’s not midwestern,” Brian shook his head. “She lives like just a few hours away from us.”

    “But like, originally?” Emily asked. “Where’s she from originally?”

    “Like just a few hours away from us,” Brian said again. “Don’t know where you’re getting all the—”

    “Huh,” Emily grunted. “Is the other side of the state just that different? Culturally?”

    “Steph grew up in a stable two-parent household,” Kelly pointed out. “So, to us she might as well be from outer space? She never went through constant mommy and daddy divorce drama, she wasn’t raised by stressed out single parent going through all kinds of bullshit. So, she turned out all innocent and dowdy. Normal. Kind of like Rebecca?”

    “Rebecca was raised by her grandparents,” Emily said. “Her actual parents were like, renfaire… cultists? Basically. Just calling them enthusiasts doesn’t really cut it. They traveled with one of the big groups, living out of their van or whatever so that they could do that stuff all the time. ‘Til her grandma put her foot down and got custody of Rebecca.”

    “We’re all cool with Rebecca, right?” Brian asked. “Kell? Christine?”

    “Yeah, she’s in,” Kelly nodded. “Always figured she was? Just—whenever you two decide to spark her back in officially and get her hooked on that magic sauce again.”

    “Reeeally wish you wouldn’t put it that way,” Brian groaned. “I mean, she wants to take things slow and see how we do without all that, first. To prove that—”

    “Fuck that,” Emily scoffed. “It’s magic. Like, ease off the brakes, there. We want to see what kinda magic power she gets. Right?”

    “I trust her,” Christine said. “Whatever you all decide to do is fine.”

    “We’ve all been practicing our daily magic?” Kelly asked, twisting in her seat so that she could see everyone. “Still seems dumb to me that we’re going off to play make believe when we should be putting more time into our actual magic?”

    “I’m keeping up with it,” Brian affirmed. He raised one finger from the hand he held on the wheel and miniature flame like the light from a candle sprouted.

    Rather than the orange, yellow, or red of real fire burning however it was a very pale, ghostly white. In the backseat Christine brought her hands together and extended both pointer fingers towards the same point, and after a moment of concentration a silver sparkle appeared there. They each had differing thoughts and theories as to whether or not making more points of contact when making their magic external helped or not—Emily beside her made her hand into a grasping claw, so that when the bright blue mote appeared it was balanced between all of her fingers and even her thumb.

    “Mine’s getting way better,” Emily reported, turning her cradled blue blip towards the plastic molding of her car door and showing that she could shine weak blue light across the surface. “And—it’s not just all like LARP, or just the roleplay, it’s also full-contact battle gaming. Combat. Safely simulated real combat practice. That’s gonna be useful probably, no matter what happens on ahead in the coming months. Even at the very least just to get us all in better shape, exercise and all that.”

    “You can all start running with me in the mornings?” Brian offered again with a chuckle. “Think we’re here. It’s this memorial park, right?”

    “It’s—yep yep yeppers,” Emily leaned forward so she could peer past him through the windshield. “See? Way up there on the hill, she’s got her tent and flags set up and all, already.”

    “Brian, I can’t do morning jogging or all psychopath early bird crap,” Kelly explained. “I have tits. Big tits aren’t meant for jogging, I’m sorry. I’m also just not built for early mornings, period. It’s already too early today for all of this nonsense.”

    “It’s already almost noon, though?” Brian pointed out as he pulled into the parking spot beside Rebecca’s familiar Suvaru. “C’mon. I’m excited to see her. It’s been, damn—how long, since we’ve seen Rebecca?”

( Previous, The Hill above Grand Scar | Renfaire Fantasy | Next, Weapons Check )

/// I don't normally do much in the way of timeskips, so this may have all been a maybe mostly unnecessary exercise in catching us up on their situation and some of the tiny changes, also re-establishing the familiar relationships and characters and their mental goings-on and such for readers who may have let a long long time pass between books. I tried not to make the exposition too obtrusive or in your face!

Kelly isn't real excited to LARP. Brian has a charm color... sort of? And a beard! Emily is still Emily! Christine wonders if having a baby will fix things—you can call that dumb and yeah it is, but you can't call it unrealistic writing! Have had to have the hey you should think this through more it's actually kind of a big life decision talks with friends before. Stephanie is still some distance away but she will make a big return in this book, I promise.