MonroeByJahx
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Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Four. Furnishings.
🕑 Added 2024-02-13 02:07:33 +0000 UTCBob looked at his dwindling pile of mana crystals and sighed. He had enough to tier up, but if he wanted to convert the environmental systems on the Freedom to run off a bank of mana crystals that would recharge from the circuit he'd created, he would need more than what he had.
Sadly, at the peak of tier eight, he really couldn't delve on Earth, not without causing problems. He could probably monopolize a Dungeon on Thayland, but Kellan had gone to quite a lot of effort to make sure all of those Dungeons were being delved properly as well. Url, and more specifically, the Urlinad, presented an entirely different set of issues, none of which he was eager to confront again.
It was frustrating that after years, they were still no closer to having their own planet to delve. Now that he was aware of his ability to create a secondary Dungeon within a natural Dungeon, delving a planet clean and getting the first clear bonus wouldn't be nearly as difficult, but the challenge of locating that planet remained.
"Rule six," he murmured to himself as he finished moving the last of his crystals into a tote.
He was going to have his inventory space rebuilt today, yet another project that would cost mana crystals, as everything did, although fewer than it would have required had he done it himself. Summon Mana-Infused Object truly was the greatest utility power ever, but when it came to permanent item creation... well, the line went something like cheap, quick, good, pick two, and in the case of Summon Mana-Infused Object, it was quick and good. He could have spent a couple of thousand mana crystals summoning the furnishings for his inventory, or he could spend a few hundred and have non-summoned furnishings installed.
Bob knew that he didn't really need to convert his inventory space into an apartment. He had the Freedom, and barring that, he also had his Eire habitation cube. It was the sense of permanence that he felt when he had his inventory. It felt like home, more so than any other place he'd ever lived. He'd felt its absence rather keenly when he'd needed to fill it with Ulrinad in stasis, and he hadn't felt right since.
He glanced at his armband, checking the time. He'd agreed to deliver Snowball to her human-servant back at the United Nations, and didn't want to be late for two reason. The first of which was the concern the President of Mexico had to be feeling, having been separated from his feline overlord. The second was that if he spent any more time than was absolutely necessary in that building, it was possible someone might find him and insist on a discussion of some sort.
Bob was done with the United Nations. They might not like what he and Kellan had come up with, but it was the best solution they were going to find.
"It's almost time, yeah?" Jessica's voice called from the hallway.
"You don't have to come with me," Bob replied as he turned to see her standing in front of the door.
She shook her head slowly as her smile broadened. "Bob, you're one of the good ones, but you're a bloke through and through. If the group is going to be meeting up in your inventory at some point in the future, I owe it to them to see that it has a Sheila's touch."
Jessica swayed into the room, kneeling down to deliver an ear rub to a sleepy Snowball before looking up at him with wide blue eyes. "Besides, you wouldn't deprive me of a shopping trip, would you?"
Bob shook his head. The entire group, upon hearing that he was actually going to have his inventory space designed and outfitted by a professional, had begged him to take Jessica along. Actually, they'd initially wanted him to bring Amanda and Bailli as well, excluding Wayna for some reason.
"I couldn't possibly deny the lady such a simple joy," Bob replied dryly, doing his best to channel Dave.
"Very good," Jessica said, standing up and linking her arm through his. "How do you intend to transport that beautiful ball of floor?" She asked, nodding her head toward Snowball, who was in the process of languidly stretching.
"I'll portal her into my inventory," Bob replied, reaching over to a shelf and pulling a tote down. Opening it, he pulled out a side of beef, which was noticeably larger than the plastic container he'd removed it from.
Snowball's stretch immediately ended as she sniffed the air, her attention focusing with razor-sharp intensity on the huge chunk of meat. Bob opened a portal behind him and tossed the meat through it. Snowball followed a split second later.
"Well, that works, I suppose," Jessica laughed.
"I am wise in the ways of kitty," Bob nodded sagely.
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"Thank you for taking care of her," Emmanuel smiled as he watched Snowball continue to ravage a side of beef.
"Sorry about the beef," Bob said sheepishly.
The floor on the Freedom wasn't carpeted, nor was his inventory, but the United Nations was, and he didn't know if they had a procedure in place for getting out bloodstains.
Now that he thought about it, they almost certainly did.
Emmanuel waved a hand. "She'll sleep it off quickly enough and be up to mischief soon enough, won't you, my little Bola de nieve," he said as he leaned down to run his hands through her long, lustrous coat.
He looked up at Bob with a slight smile. "I imagine that I mustn't keep you lest one of many interested parties discover your whereabouts and seek to draw you into some matter or another."
Bob nodded, reaching out a hand, which the President of Mexico shook. "It was nice seeing you again and meeting your benevolent overlord," he said.
"Indeed," Emmanuel replied with a broader smile. "You've my number now; call me sometime, and we can arrange a less destructive outing for our kitties," his expression turned to the adoration that true worshippers of all things kitty immediately recognize. "She doesn't have enough company around her own tier and can't really play with familiars who haven't at least leveled up."
"We will set something up," Bob agreed. "But you're right, we need to leave," he finished by dropping a portal at his feet, which he fell through.
Jessica gave the President of Mexico a hapless shrug before following, leaving Emmanuel reunited with his familiar.
Jessica had learned to use a hand to keep her skirt decent when falling through Bob's portals. She sort of understood why he oriented them the way he did, but it could be a bit embarrassing if you didn't take into account the effect falling fifteen feet would have on your skirt.
Landing on the concrete, she took a step forward and linked her arm with his again, smiling. Just a few years earlier, he wouldn't have been able to handle the casual physical contact, but today, he'd gone so far as to not only wait for her, but to even lift his arm slightly.
"So, where is the furniture shop?" She asked.
Bob shook his head. "I'm having everything custom built," he replied. "There is only one place that does furniture for the higher tiers, and they're... not quite what I was looking for. So I found a cabinet maker and gave him the measurements for the space and my measurements, and he's put together a design that we'll need to approve. All the fixtures and fittings are still on the table as well as the stuff like the towels and dishes and stuff."
"Well, those are the items that need a Sheila's touch, yeah?" Jessica smiled.
"I thought I'd ask your opinion on the stain or finish or whatever on the wood, as well as the general layout," Bob agreed.
Jessica nodded as they continued down the sidewalk. The sky was slightly cloudy with a light breeze, and it was, in her opinion, a nice day for a stroll. It would have been better had there been a beach, and had they been alone, but she'd learned that perfection wasn't a requirement.
She glanced at the man beside her. In some ways, Bob had been a learning experience for her as well. Ever since she'd started coming into her looks, she'd never been knocked back, not once. She had her insecurities, every woman did, but she knew how men saw her. It never ceased to amaze her how they overlooked all of the flaws and imperfections that practically screamed out at women. In that, Bob was no different, which had come as a relief. She'd initially suspected that he was actually indifferent, either gay, or asexual entirely, given his lack of appreciative glances. Especially considering how close he was with Bailli, who would have had no problem launching her own international modeling career back on pre-integration Earth.
It turned out that he wasn't either. She'd had to demonstrate that she was a good person before he'd appreciated her looks, and even then, he seemed to care far less about her appearance than her thoughts and ideas.
She was pulled from her thoughts as Bob stopped in front of an unassuming shop which show cased a cabinet, chair, headboard, nightstand, and cradle in the window. The sign proudly stated, 'Ilver's Renovations and Cabinetry, Est 1741.'
"Alright,' Bob said, sounding eager. "Let's go see what they have for us."
He led the way through the door and into the shop.
Jessica stepped through the door herself and was immediately surprised at the complete and utter lack of merchandise. There were four drafting tables arranged to allow free travel between them, three of them with young men leaned over them, and one with a young woman. An older man, in his forties, she'd guess, looked up from where he was inspecting some detail or another on one of the young men's tables and moved over to greet them.
"Good afternoon, John Ilvers," he smiled up at them. "Not to take liberties, but given your rather impressive heights, I suspect you're Mr. Whitman and Ms. Wright?"
"Yep," Bob agreed, offering a hand to John. "We spoke on the phone; it's nice to meet you in person."
John shook his hand, and she suppressed the urge to giggle. The size disparity between themselves at tier eight and normal people at tier five was becoming comical.
"A pleasure," John's smile broadened. "I must say that you offered me quite the challenge," he confided as he gestured for them to follow him toward the broad counter that ran along the back of the room. "It's not enough to simply widen, lengthen, and heighten, you see; one must also take into consideration the stress the material will be placed under, which, no offense, is considerably greater."
Jessica nodded. At tier seven, she'd discovered that not all furniture was designed to be structurally stable when a certain weight threshold was surpassed. When she'd reached tier eight, it hadn't been the reality of having her knees and chin at the same height that had stopped her from sitting on normal furniture, but the certainty that it would collapse beneath her.
No one knew what the future held, but she'd seen the tier fourteen Eire, and she'd been smaller than the tier eight Eire, which led her to suspect that past tier ten, they'd stop getting bigger and might even be able to scale back a bit, something she was looking forward to.
"Oh, I'm well aware," Bob sighed. "As I said, I've been making do with summoned furnishings, and I've just gone with solid slabs of wood at this point."
"Well, we can do a bit better than that," John assured him. "I have a number of layouts to show you, and once we've nailed that down, we can move on to which lumber would best suit each space."
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"From what our neighbors have indicated, he appears to be done with the United Nations."
Yorrick nodded. The United Nations had snubbed the Terran Confederation despite having absorbed several countries that had been members. Without a delegation, he'd been faced with the decision of either having his people appear without accreditation or relying on information from others.
He wanted to have a conversation with Bob before he disappeared again, but Africa wasn't on the man's normal list of haunts, so he'd resigned himself to hunting him down once he'd finished up his business at the United Nations, which had apparently consisted of several prominent nations asking him to intercede with Kellan on their behalf.
"Do we have eyes on him?" Yorrick asked.
"He has entered an old, well-respected home renovation firm, accompanied by Jessica Wright."
"He's unlikely to simply portal out then," Yorrick mused. As much as Bob might present as an unassailable bulwark against which the fairer sex held no sway, he knew that Jessica had made some small progress toward introducing him to the great game. If she was with him, they were likely making a day of it in London. There were only a few restaurants that catered to people in the higher tiers, so it shouldn't be terribly difficult to arrange for a 'chance' meeting.
"I'll take a gateway to the Church beneath Marylebone Station," Yorrick said as he stood. "If you would begin making reservations at the establishments suited for his tier, I'll make contact with our eyes, and perhaps I can manage to 'bump' into him beforehand."
"Immediately, Lord Yorrick."
Comments
Kevin McKinney
Bob really needs to get tier 9 first; also, isn’t he supposed to stop shaking hands?
Richard Reid
Tier nine
Mike G.
Is he getting tier 8 or 9 furniture? Seems to me that he should tier up then shop...
NameGame
The furniture dilemma is interesting. Steel reinforcement inside? Wood pulled out of dungeons and magic treated? Thanks for the chapter!
enleed
Nice
Andrew
Thank you!
Bakerdea
I just realized, the Urlinad see Bob and his crew as gods right? So doesn't it make sense, that when they start to tier up in mass, that a portion of their population will want to evolve into things more similar to humans? To be more like their gods?
Reforged RPG
Excellent
