7. Uncommon Sense
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"As I said, I have the powers of a video game character," Camille said matter of factly, a sly grin over her face. Relishing in the subverted suppositions of her friend, Camille in all her steadfast cruelty, loved every second of what was happening. Being of those people, who enjoys a good old subversion of expectations, there was no helping it. Whether it be their doubt over her weakness, strength, or abilities, any aspect of it brought pleasure to her. That was simply the byproduct of her nature. An innate defect that had culminated as a result of her birth and experiences, that was all there was to it.

In her pursuit of such subversion, Camille felt that something amiss. While Morgan's expectations of the whole ordeal had been subverted, her expression lacked a certain refinement. After all, while part of the purpose of subversion was to have the opposition bewildered, there was more to it then that. If they did not acknowledge such subversion as truth and cement it in their mind, then it would be a useless effort. Case in point, Morgan. Who although, had acknowledged that this whole thing was completely mental, had not understood what it really was.

"Ok, coolbeans"

Nonetheless, she spoke with resolute confidence. Out of respect and a desire to not waste another's time, she resigned herself to figuring it out over the course of the next hour or so, in her comfortable ignroance.

This however, would not be the case. Camille, being her friend, and the shrewd individual that she were, was not so easy to fool. As a consequence of the years they had spent together, such a scenario had come across plenty of times. 

Alas, she expected nothing different. Truth be told, Morgan's lack of confidence wasn't even a bad thing. If it would give Camille more opportunities and chances to impress her, then why not?

"Lend me your phone for a moment."

With complete and utter confidence, Camille made that demand. Saying nothing more of the matter, her only affirmation as to a reason was a sly smile. And so being none the wiser, Morgan, relented.

"A-alright, here." At a moment's notice, she took out her smartphone and with a softened touch, placed it in Camille's hand.

"Inventory."

Inventory
Set of Clothes (Equipped)      
       
       

A familiar box of blue appeared once again. Though slightly less startling than before, Morgan still gave it an uneasy look. Seeing such anxiety in her friend's eyes, Camille offered one final conciliatory nod. A sign of what would come next, Camille then held the phone to the inventory. Just an inch from making contact, Camille let the suspense rise, until finally, she pushed it in.

As if it were magic, the smartphone had vanished. Letting out a gasp of shock, Morgan contemplated the complexities of such an action.

For an object to just phase out of existence and appear as an icon in a gamelike inventory, surely that was not the byproduct of technology?

Could such things truly be accomplished by innovation alone? There was no definite answer to that, but Morgan supposed that the answer was a firm no. Then, in an act of further insanity, Camille pulled the phone back out. Enough to startle Morgan yet again, the poor woman remained blissfully unaware that this was just the beginning.

As Camille, who had not yet finished, then pushed the phone back in, then out, then in, then out. Submerging it halfway each time, Camille stopped only at the count of a dozen, before she finally rested the phone inside.

Morgan, whose emotions of confusion transformed into that of awe, gulped.

Motivated to try it herself, Morgan nodded, leaned towards Camille and asked a simple "May I?"

"Of course, as you wish." She replied, a tad more sophisticated then custom.

When she received her answer, Morgan looked to the inventory. Taking a moment or two to soak it all in, Morgan was still just a little apprehensive. Timid, the promise of interacting with a real-life inventory had even brought her hand to a light shake. Mustering up the will to do it, it seemed, proved to be more difficult than she thought. For as wondrous as it all was, the thing was also equally frightening. As he many possibilities before her flared not only her curiosity but also her sense of unease.

Could her own hand disappear into it? Could she become an inventory icon? What if she were to be trapped in some empty void of inventory slots forever?

Those were all questions that could be answered by a single action. A single action, which she now committed to take, Morgan drew one final breath. Then, with subdued speed, her right hand moved ever so slightly forward. Just enough for the tip of her fingers to touch the inventory, Morgan paused.

A moment passed and her heart settled.

This whole ordeal was far less imposing then she suspected. From an initial impression, the feeling that touched her hand was that of some viscous fluid. Like honey or yoghurt, only much more fluid like a certain commodity called water. Actually, the more she thought about it, the least sense that made. There was no logic to comparing it against any product other then itself, that much she decided.

A minute passed, and Morgan was determined to move to the next step. As attractive as the prospect of sticking her fingers in a inventory for eternity were, there were still other things to do.

So, with another muster of courage, Morgan concentrated. Hypothetically, if she just pushed her hand in a little further...

"Oh, I got it!" Grabbing onto her phone, Morgan pulled out her hand and hoisted it in the air. As if it were some kind of trophy, the woman took a few moments to cherish and inspect it in detail. Finishing off with one final glance of careful scrutiny, Morgan let out a sigh of relief. During the short time it had spent in the inventory, exactly nothing had changed about it.

"So, do you believe me now?"

"Yeah." Morgan replied with a brisk nod alongside it.

The doubt over the potential of her friend's 'ability' was now quelled, but there were still plenty of questions that remained unsolved. With a void of speculation where answers should've been, Morgan decided to simply ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get this um, power?"

For a moment, Camille was at a loss for an answer. Puzzled as she were, the unforeseen question was one Camille herself struggled with.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I just woke up, and I was like this."

That was all there was to it. A stroke of fate that bordered on the miracle of a god, was all it was to Camille. Then again, to be simply a miracle of a god, is still a miracle. A remarkable development of fate and life, the joyful woman let loose a small chuckle. This whole situation was absurd. To acquire all this power by mere happenstance, and without even knowing why was quite amusing.

"Oh wow, Camille, you really are special,"

Special. That was the word Camille needed to hear. Special, as in better or different from others was what Camille wanted to be.

As a woman who once had no hope, those words brought a genuine grin to her face. But being special would not be enough. Without the input of effort, that dormant speciality would never get to flourish. Therefore, to cultivate that speciality to the furthest extent that she could, Camille decided to progress to the next logical step.

Now then, as for that cheeky quest of hers...

 

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