2.09 – Patter

It's actually not lewd at all?

Oh, how wrong she'd been. Quick? They'd been looking at pots for hours now. This was the fifth pottery stand they'd been to. They were running out of shops. After this, they would have to go halfway across town to another shopping district.

And cheap? Yet to be determined, but Emma was examining another 15 silver pot from all sides. It was knee-height, looked kind of nice, sure, but Maple couldn't see what made it cost so much. Maple spoke up again, before Emma got too attached to it.

"That's a little expensive too, isn't it. What about this one?"

Emma turned to Maple with a neutral face, and frowned when she saw what she was holding. The pot Maple held cost only one silver, and even had a cute little smiling flower painted on it.

There were cruder pots priced cheaper than that—those were what Maple had gone for first. Now, she was compromising. She was being reasonable.

Emma was not. She held up the same note as the previous times. She tapped it repeatedly and frowned harder at Maple.

It's for our baby!

Maple let out an exasperated sigh and turned away. What criteria could Emma even be judging them by?

"I know that, but what's wrong with this one? It's just a—I don't think it'll matter much to it. If it does, then we can find a better one later."

Maple had almost said it's just a plant, which she knew would have been altogether the wrong thing to say. Emma was taken aback for a second, and tapped her sentence again.

Her frown turned glum as she tapped it over and over, and Maple knew she'd messed up. She sighed again and carefully put an arm around her girlfriend, keeping her voice level.

"Sorry. I know it is, cutie. I know you just want the best for our—our baby."

It pained her to say it. It was an embarrassing story she really didn't want getting out. Emma answered with a single, resolute nod.

Yeah, it hadn't been much fun for either of them so far. Nor was it a 'little' shopping trip, not when it led to their first real conflict as a couple. Maple hadn't expected Emma to take it so seriously.

The shopkeeper seemed to notice their plight, and came over; a skinnier human male, with what Maple immediately parsed as a conniving smile.

"If these ones simply won't do, perhaps ol' Mad Patter will have something for you."

He spoke in a quirky tone, and with a quirky cadence—for some reason. Something was odd about him, but giving him some benefit of the doubt, he sounded friendly enough.

"Uh, Mad Patter?"

"Yes, indeed. Some call him Mad Pat, the Mad [Potter]. He makes mad pots for mad twa—oops."

He knocked a smaller pot to the ground, interrupting himself with the shatter. Maple stared dumbly at the weirdo breaking his own merchandise. Emma grinned, finding the whole thing amusing.

"You'll find him at Pat's Pots. A proper workshop, over yonder."

He gave them directions to the place, and then shooed them off, citing the mess he had to clean up. The mess that he had made, for a...gag? Maple spoke quietly to Emma as they made their way there.

"That was weird. I don't think I've met a single normal human here yet."

Emma laughed and elbowed her with a significant look. As if you're one to talk, Maple interpreted it as.

Pat's Pots did end up being a proper building, outside the district of tents and stalls selling this and that, and into the district of workshops. The sign was humble, nothing crazy—or mad. Nondescript, rather; she could have easily passed it by unnoticed, were she not looking for it.

The interior was a room filled entirely by pots—some were vases, she supposed. There was a single shelf for smaller ones, but the rest were all at least knee-height. They made up the aisles, and they all looked high quality, for as much as that meant coming from Maple. They were just pots, and it was just a plant.

Many of the pots were taller than Maple, and much, much bigger round. It was as if the master of their craft had reached a point where they decided that bigger was most definitely better. Even if Maple couldn't imagine what anyone would possibly use a pot that large for.

Emma's eyes went round as she took the room in. They'd hit the jackpot this time, if her face was anything to go by. Maple was pulled along by the hand while she wondered what she was missing. Emma's smiling face was nice, at least.

"Are these good pots, cutie?"

Emma nodded with a big grin and tapped her note. Happily, this time.

It's for our baby!

"Good, maybe we'll—oh."

The price tags were even worse here. All of them. Maple grimaced, but stopped herself from saying anything.

Maple followed Emma around, this mad [Potter] still nowhere to be seen, and decided she'd just let her do as she would. She did have her own money, but they'd argued about that earlier. Maple would feel bad if she let her pay for all of it.

That path led only to strife and sorrow. So fine, she'd stop arguing. Maple stood on her toes and leaned over to peek inside a pot nearly as tall as she was—

"Eek! What the heck?!"

A man popped out of it. A human man. Maple stumbled back, nearly falling into a row of pots behind her. The man laughed at Maple's surprise and pulled himself up to sit on the lip of the pot.

"Oho, what's this? Nosy customers, here to buy some pots? A vessel made of slime and soap, along with one made of—well, what are you, exactly?"

"Me? Uh—human? Flesh and bone?"

Maple tilted her head in confusion. Part of it was an act—she sweated at the thought that someone could tell she was half-erogel with merely a glance and absolutely no evidence at all. The man laughed, playing it off as a joke.

"Ah, but of course. How long it's been since I've seen one of those, silly me."

Maple chuckled nervously, and Emma held up her iconic greeting with a grin.

Hi, I'm Emma. I'm a soap slime.

"Well met, Emma. You may call me Pat."

With that, he jumped back inside the pot he'd come out of. He was as thin and quirky as the man at the pottery stall had been, but unlike him, wore a nice-looking purple suit. It was silent for a few seconds, and Maple whispered to Emma.

"Is that the same guy as—"

His voice came from a behind as he popped out of a different pot.

"So, what brings you two here?"

Maple turned in surprise, and stared for a second. How in the heck...

"Uh, you're the mad [Potter]? Aren't you the same guy as—"

He ducked back into that pot, and then popped out of another. He had a cheeky smile on his conniving face.

"How many times can I do that before it gets old? And I prefer eccentric—if I were angry, you'd know it. But yes, 'tis me. In truth, my class evolved away from [Potter] long ago. Did my, hm...twin refer you here?"

Maple had a feeling he wasn't a twin at all, and moved to look inside of the first pot. Pat's eyebrows rose briefly before he ducked back down and popped out of the pot near Maple again.

"Ah-ah. No peeking."

Emma clapped with delight, and Maple chuckled. She thought about using her secret eye-palm technique to see what was really going on, but besides the risk, what fun would there be in ruining the magic if there really was a trick to it?

"Right, your twin I guess. What is your class now, then?"

"Hmm, that's rather private. And when you haven't even given me your name. Ah well, it's fun to say. Are you ready for it? I'm a [Verisimitudinous Vesselsmith]."

"A very—what? What does that mean?"

"Simply put, I make pots, vases, and other vessels. How may I help you, Miss..."

"Maple. And, we're looking for a pot for a plant—yes, for our plant baby, jeez."

Emma tapped her note, making Maple correct herself. She'd be more embarrassed, were this situation not so odd. There was something...uncanny about the man. She'd thought of it as a conniving smile at first, but no, he just had a mildly off-putting look to him that she couldn't quite place. Still, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he seemed pleasant enough.

"The Maple? How very interesting. Not least of all, that the offspring of a slime and a whatever-you-are would be a plant."

"I'm a—human, I said. And yeah, it's uh—adopted. It's a long story. Don't ask, please."

"So you claim. Fair enough, madam. I won't pry, but instead use a Skill. [The Vessel You Need]. Oho!"

Mad Pat dived head-first back into the pot. Maple heard a thunk, but then he reappeared from a door near the back of the room. He carried a small white pot the size of her head. It looked rather plain to Maple, but Emma's eyes lit up as she bobbed excitedly. He approached them with it.

"This may be the one you need, but is it the one you can afford? No. It's not. This little darling is made entirely of life clay. It's even got a few enchantments."

He passed it over for Emma to examine. She practically drooled over it as she turned it over in her hands and admired it. Eventually she set it down on the floor, and tested it by climbing inside. It was the first one she'd done that for, and—

Ah. That was kind of like her bottle. No wonder Emma cared about this so much. She related to the need for a comfortable home. She seemed to like this one, judging by her smiling face and the flower petals she made around it, pretending to be a plant.

"One of the enchantments is spatial, as you can see. Others help preserve an ideal moisture level, and so on, not to mention the benefits of life clay. It's some of my best work, entirely over-engineered—and not something I'd usually sell. How odd that my Skill suggested it."

Emma slipped out of the pot and wrote excitedly.

We need this one.

"So it's been said—"

He snatched the little white pot up.

"—yet the materials alone for this piece sum up to over 50 gold. Not to mention the labor involved—I did have to pay someone else to enchant it. Champagne taste indeed, little slime. Can you afford it?"

Emma's mouth dropped open, and Maple gave her a look. Of course she 'needed' the most expensive pot to ever exist. Emma tried her pleading, lip trembling expression first. Pat wagged a finger at her.

"Adorable, and I bet that works on many folk, but...what level are you trying to bargain down to?"

Maple rubbed her temples. Was she seriously going to spend a fortune on a pot? She didn't know how much Emma's haul from the erogel spa would be worth, but that might very well use up all of it. Emma wrote and then made her face into the cutest smile she could muster, dimples and everything, before passing the note over.

One gold. Pretty please. My baby needs it.

"Quite the lowball, indeed. Say that I could part with it for that little and carry the loss myself..."

He turned to Maple, and Maple decided her instincts had been right the first time. What a conniving smile. She kept her face neutral as he continued.

"I am ever so curious as to what she is. Vessels are my profession, and it's rare to come across one I've never seen before."

"I'm a human—"

"Ah-ah. Human and what? Apologies, but the truth is..."

He reached his hand just inside one of the pots he'd popped out of earlier. Maple swore she saw another hand pass him something.

"...I had a truth stone when I asked you earlier; honest customers make for honest business. So I at least know that you know there's more to you than meets the eye."

He held the glowing green gem up for her to see. This was getting a little concerning. Maple warily eyed the door they'd come in from. Emma took a step closer to Maple, looking more serious herself. She was reasonable when it mattered, at least, and not about to sell Maple's secret for a pot.

Pat saw all this, and looked mildly offended. He raised his hands in front of him.

"Goodness. Perhaps I was a little nosy, but I'm merely offering. You may decline, or barter with something else if you'd like. If this plant is so unique, then it could also be worth it for me to trade favors with an acquaintance. If you'd let her study it."