《Slime Cafe》Chapter Six: The Importance of Clothing

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Slimes come in a wide number of variants. The three most common of these are flame slimes and their greater counterpart infernos; snow slimes and their superior blizzard versions; and the most deadly type, acid slimes, and their significantly more toxic complement, corrosion slimes.

Each variant has its own uses and abilities. Flame slimes are occasionally used in towers as an emergency defense mechanism. When released, they cause a fantastic ruckus and are perfectly capable of delaying even the most stubborn of invaders.

Snow slimes are frequently employed in iceboxes to keep food chilled: a number of studies have proven that the cold keeps food edible for greatly increased periods of time.

Acid slimes, while extremely dangerous to handle, can be effectively ‘milked’ for their corrosive components, which are unequaled in their power.

Unfortunately, the greater counterparts of these specific variants are unstable and often too powerful to harness.

They are almost always killed on sight.

-Daro D’Vari, occasional knight cosplayer

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Miro stopped next to Olivai in front of the building before them. It was a one-story place built from stone, but had several round tables and chairs in the front. A number of people sat at them, enjoying their breakfasts in quiet peace. The front of the shop consisted of a simple double-door, along with a large rectangular window. Two or three ornately crafted cakes sat atop platforms on proud display behind it, beaming sweet confectionary glory onto the street.

The sight of the food was almost irresistible to the hungry slime, but it only took a brief flash of memory regarding the last time it’d smelled Caro Lias, and the temptation vanished.

Olivai closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, sighing happily. “There’s nothing quite like the scent of pastry in the morning. It refreshes one’s very soul.”

Miro glared at her, well aware that she wouldn’t notice. It was more for Miro’s own self-satisfaction than anything else. After all, it wasn’t as though Olivai was aware of Miro’s discomfort when it came to the overwhelming smells that exploded from every stone and straw. She had a far smaller mouth and probably couldn’t pick them up nearly as well.

Walking forward, Olivai gave a casual greeting to the people eating their breakfasts and gestured for Miro to follow. It did so without a moment’s hesitation - it may have been unable to smell anything going on, but the window had cake behind it. Cake.

Miro was definitely in the mood for cake.

The interior of the shop was equally pleasant when contrasted to its exterior. A long glass counter ran along the back of the room, with countless delicious confectionaries on display beneath it. More tables and chairs were evenly placed along the side, leaving room for the line of waiting people going for the counter. A number of shelves lined the edge of the room, various jams and jellies adorning their surfaces.

Olivai paid no attention to the shelves or the other customers, instead opting to immediately get in line. Miro followed her, well aware of the confused looks they were receiving from everyone in the store. Unaware of Miro’s discomfort, Olivai put a hand to her shirt and froze.

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Miro burbled up at her, confused. Olivai’s face was turning a rapidly brightening shade of red that Miro had never seen before. What could possibly be wrong? Had she forgotten to put her money in her pajamas? Or did it have to do with the pajamas themselves?

Olivai leaned down, picked Miro up, and hastily walked right back out of the store. The moment she closed the door behind her, she muttered something underneath her breath. Her eyes glowed white, her pajamas poofed as though a blast of wind had hit them, and she accelerated.

Miro’s surface rippled from the speed they were moving at, and the startled slime released a prolonged whistle of shock as Olivai broke into a full sprint. Her feet barely touched the ground as she sped onward, darting past people too quickly for them to realize they’d been passed. The church promptly rose in Miro’s view, and mere seconds later, they were inside.

Olivai took the steps six at a time, moving too fast for Miro to greet the flame slime in its cage, and hurled herself through the door to her room.

The moment she was inside, she dropped Miro, staggered to her bed, and collapsed on it. Her chest was heaving as she put her hands to her face, groaning, “I can’t believe I did that. Why… why did I do that!?”

She sat up and stared at Miro, eyes wide. “How do I forget to put on proper clothing!? I’m a priestess! I can’t just… traipse around in nightclothes!”

Miro wasn’t sure why it was a big deal. Miro itself wasn’t wearing anything at all, and Olivai didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Olivai rubbed at her eyes. “Did I not sleep well?” She shook her head, contradicting herself. “No… I was excited about you. Or nervous, I can’t remember which now. But still!” Standing, she climbed up to her loft area and selected her robes. “Appearances are critical to the image of a priestess.”

She began to put them on, carefully tying the lines in certain places. “Caro Lias depends on me to keep everyone in good health. I have to look proper. I have to ensure that anyone can approach me and simply ask for help.”

With a violent motion, she tied a final knot and checked herself in the mirror. With a nod of approval, she started applying her makeup. “And nobody is going to walk up to someone in pajamas and request a healing!”

Olivai furiously put her makeup on, paused, and then practically growled at the mirror. Striding to her staff, she aimed it herself and irritably stated, “Cleanse.” The mascara was erased from her face in an instant, and she stomped back over to the desk to start over.

Only to find Miro sitting on it, intently staring at her. She blinked in surprise, and then made a movement to push it off. “Hop off, Miro. I have to get ready.”

Miro opened its mouth wide and carefully put it around Olivai’s hand. It definitely wasn’t a bite by any definition of the word, but Miro had to get her attention and it didn’t know any other way it could do that.

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With her arm stuck in Miro’s mouth halfway up to the forearm, Olivai simply stared at it. She seemed less sure about what to do than Miro.

Finally, she uncertainly asked, “Miro, what are you doing?”

Miro released her arm and blew an irate raspberry at her. It didn’t entirely know what was going on, and it definitely didn’t know why wearing different clothes was such a big deal.

What it did know was that it had been about to be introduced to food, real food and not just Otto’s bread, and Olivai had taken it all the way back to her home. And there was no food here. Miro was positive it would have smelled food if there was any to be had.

Olivai shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miro, but I don’t have time to figure out what you’re trying to tell me. I need to get ready.”

She reached for her makeup box again and Miro rolled in front of her. She put her hands on her hips, exasperatedly watching it. “Okay, what is it? Are you tired? Do you need to go to the bathroom? Are you hungry?”

Miro bobbed rapidly, and she frowned. “But you had that loaf of bread. That’s a decently sized breakfast.”

If Miro had been capable of glaring at her to a greater degree than it already was, it would have done so. Otto had already explained Miro’s hunger with nigh-perfect clarity. The only thing Miro had ever actually eaten was that lonely loaf of bread, which failed to ease the void in Miro’s stomach even slightly.

Although… even if there wasn’t any conventional food in Olivai’s tower, that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t food. It was full of objects, after all. Some of them had to be edible.

Miro opened its mouth wide to taste the air. Ignoring Olivai as she jerked her arm back, Miro searched for anything that could begin filling its stomach. It could taste ink, paper, thick fabric, scratchy wool, and...

Sliding off of her desk, Miro started rolling towards her bed. Olivai threw her hands in the air. “Thank you.”

As she leaned down to begin putting her makeup on again, Miro squeezed underneath her bed. Just as it’d thought - there was something to eat.

Scooting further, Miro carefully bit down on the red package in front of it and backed out. Once it’d extricated itself and the small box from its place, pausing to examine it a little closer.

It was a roundish package wrapped in red fabric, with a pink ribbon wrapped around it. Miro wasn’t interested in what was on it. No, it was far more interested in the decadent - if not slightly stale - smell coming from within the package.

Carefully, Miro put its mouth on the package and bit down. The first thing it tasted was ribbon, soft and textured. Next was the paper, which honestly didn’t taste all that bad. But once it got through the outside, it found the taste it’d been looking for.

Ambrosia and nectar, unequaled and unparalleled! Miro’s thoughts swam as the creamy sweet richness of the dessert within the package hit it. It would be a bad idea if it had too much - this taste could be somehow bad for it.

Another wave of bliss slammed into Miro, and it partially deflated from happiness. If it was dangerous, then at least Miro would die with that taste in its mouth.

Olivai’s hands suddenly grabbed onto the package and yanked it out of Miro’s mouth, pulling the slime out of its reverie. Her face was flushed bright red, partially applied makeup temporarily forgotten. “Miro! That’s - you can’t just eat something when you don’t know what it is! Especially when…” She trailed off as she took the damage in, and her shoulders slumped.

Sitting down on her bed, she put the package down and put her head in her hands. Miro went from frustrated to concerned in a fraction of a second, hopping up onto the bed. She jumped slightly, startled by the motion, and then relaxed. Giving Miro a forlorn smile, she put a hand on its surface and started kneading its surface. “I don’t know why I was so upset. I’m not going to eat them, after all.”

Miro burbled curiously, and Olivai flopped back onto her bed. Her hair immediately got tangled, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know anything about courtship, I imagine. Although…” She examined Miro with a frown, and then shook her head. “No, most likely not.”

Scooting in a little closer, Miro pushed up on Olivai’s side, trying to prompt her to continue. She didn’t notice, placing her hands on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling. “Otto… he’s very kind. I enjoy spending time with him, immature though he might be, but… I have work to do. And so does he! There - there wouldn’t be any time for that kind of commitment.”

Miro didn’t know what Olivai was talking about, but it knew Otto. It gave her a loud bubbling chirp, pressing itself against her. She put her hand on Miro this time, simply resting on it. “Besides… he’s a paladin, and I’m a priestess. We both serve different deities. That’s got to make some kind of difference, right?”

She sat up, staring down at Miro with an almost pleading expression. “He’s all right with being friends - he’s told me that more than once by now. But he doesn’t act the same. He’s still cheerful, and he still makes bad jokes, but it feels like he’s hiding something. I just wish he’d tell me what it was.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You don’t... you don’t think he still feels that way, do you? That he’d still want to court me?”

Miro was even more confused than it had been a few moments earlier, but it felt that Olivai needed support at the moment. It rolled onto her lap and partially deflated, allowing her to rest partway on its soft surface.

She sat there for a long moment, silently thinking, and then shook her head with a brisk smile. “All right, we’ve got to get the day started. I think the first order should be getting you some food.”

Miro was very much on board with that plan.

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