What a detour that'd been. Anemone was one wild...Anemone. They ought to set aside time to actually talk or hangout sometime, but she kept running off. And Maple was busy herself this time—she'd been busy each of the times, actually.

It was fine.

The prank hadn't bothered her all that much, and in the end it would have been nothing more than a bad dream. Or a bad wet dream.

In a moment of mental honesty, she would admit she could have enjoyed what Anemone had been cooking. Punishing her for the prank had also been fun though. It was an odd dynamic they were developing.

Anyway, Maple continued to Pat's Pots without further incident. When she got there, she found the shop empty save for one of his clay bodies lying limp on the floor. He didn't usually just leave himself lying around like that, she didn't think.

Maple called out several times, wandering idly around the shop. Shattered bits of clay lined the floor near one of the walls. The body finally sat up with a shout.

"We're closed. Oh, it's you. Actually, you're just the...person I should see today. Ah, what I meant is alley-oooooh—oh, damn it! To hell with it."

He tried to vault into one of his oversized clay pots, fumbled, and sent it falling onto its side. He kicked it, then stomped over to a door, slamming it behind him. Maple raised her eyebrows.

He was decidedly more angry than 'mad' today, and seemed off in general. As eccentric as he'd been the last time, his vanishing act had been perfect.

Maple brushed at her hair and turned to continue wandering while she waited for Pat to come back, only to find him right behind her inside of a different pot. He leaned on the edge, arms folded. His voice was of someone trying to put on an act, perhaps also a bit drunkenly.

"Ahem. Maple's here, everybody! What a fine day. Maple's here, come get a...gape-ful? Maple the cape-able? Capable. Maple, she's oh so—"

"Um. Are you alright, Pat?"

His rambling stopped and he grinned at her.

"Oh, just dandy. Look at my smile, my verisimilitudinous grin. I'm so happy, can't you tell? How about yourself?"

Maple hesitated. She had a hunch he wasn't alright, but wasn't certain it was actually any of her business.

"I'm pretty good. Um, are you sure you're okay?"

Pat let out a dramatic sigh, then went limp and hung lifelessly over the lip of the pot. Maple glanced at the door, seriously considering coming back later or just finding a [Glassblower] or something instead.

When his clay body came back to life a minute later, he was more composed. He spread his arms wide as if to indicate such.

"I'm fine. What may I help you with today? Your plant baby doing well? I don't suppose it's sprouted already? It was a very nice pot I handed over for practically a steal."

"No, it's not that. Um, thank you though. But I'm here because I'm starting a dairy and I need milk containers. I just thought I'd check here first, you know? Oh and I was wondering if you knew what kind of grinder I should get for those beans you gave me?"

Pat snapped his fingers with an ah and went limp again. He reappeared a minute later, opening the door to the back room.

"Catch."

He tossed something at Maple and shut the door again before she even knew what was going on. Maple flailed her arms out in front of her and somehow barely managed to catch the object; a grinder with a hand crank.

The body near Maple came to life again. He nudged himself over the side and flopped onto the floor like a rag doll. He lay on his back and spoke.

"There, call it a complete gift now. I forgot you'd need one, truthfully."

Maple fidgeted with the grinder. The polished wood felt nice, sturdy.

"I mean, I could pay for it. How much did it cost?"

"No—no need for that. It's a gift. A gift. There's something I've been meaning to ask you about though, if you didn't mind. It might be...a little personal."

His tone said it'd be entirely personal. Maple shrugged; she just wouldn't answer if it was about any of her secrets.

"Sure, I guess?"

"About the I'm Maple event. The whole, telepathic mind meld thing. I was there for it, you know?"

He spoke facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Maple played with the grinder, hoping he wasn't going anywhere too weird with this.

"Yeah? It was uh, [Telepathic Orgasms]..."

"Oh, right. Well, that wasn't my question. But, I was there during that, and I happened to notice that you had a—you know. Not something you'd expect a woman to have. I was wondering..."

He trailed off. His usual confidence was gone. He could have just said it and it would have been less awkward than whatever had him mincing words. Maple was in pain waiting for him to finish and decided to just answer.

"That was [Phallic Transformation]—or, that's what my bound spell is called now anyway."

"Oh. Interesting. Am I correct in presuming that it grows a...phallus?"

"Uh, yep. It's kind of weird I guess, but I mean, it's fun, you know..."

Maple found herself saying too much to fill the silence that Pat kept leaving. She wondered why he was so curious. He didn't mean to ask her for a 'favor', did he? She honestly wouldn't mind—especially because it might be fun if he could use multiple of his clones at once, though it embarrassed her to immediately think of that—but the principle of calling it a favor would be off-putting.

Maple resisted the urge to ramble further as Pat took his time forming the followup question.

"It doesn't do the, ah, other parts?"

"Like balls? Um, no. I don't think it can. And I can kind of control the size, but I think it always has to be hard."

"Ah, pity. Can you cast it on others? Why did you get a Skill like that?"

His tone was almost accusing, like he was upset with her to some degree. It'd come out of nowhere and Maple didn't understand.

"I don't know? I accidentally got some weird classes, like [Slut] and stuff. It's a long story. But I can cast it on others now, yeah."

"But why you? For some kind of fetish? You claim to not even be very high level. I just—"

His mouth stopped moving mid-sentence. It hung half-open, and he was apparently gone again. She would have objected to it being a fetish if he didn't sound so genuinely upset about something.

He returned with a heavy sigh.

"The System mocks me. It's right in my class name, you know. [Verisimilitudinous Vesselsmith]. Verisimilitudinous. Lifelike. Fake. Lacking. A mockery. No matter what heights I reach, I'll always be limited to—"

He cut off again and Maple bit her lip. Mad Patter was very not okay, but she didn't understand why and he wouldn't let her get a word in. She looked around idly while he was elsewhere, at the evidence of his violence against his poor pots.

He sat up when he returned this time, calm again. Maple took a step closer. She didn't understand, but she could recognize he was hurting. Clay probably hadn't been his first choice in how he wanted to interact with the world, judging by his rant.

"Sorry, that sounds tough."

"Mhm. Anyway. That's enough of that for now. Milk vessels. Those I can do, and then I'll ask you for a favor."

He said it with certainty and jumped to his feet. He began sifting through the rows of pots while Maple followed.

"What do you need exactly? Large container? Small ones? Enchanted? I am the best, you're aware?"

"Just small ones, like normal milk jugs to sell to customers, you know? I'm thinking restaurants mainly right now, so maybe they can be a little big, I don't know. I guess it was weird to come to you for something like this."

"Not at all, Maple. I'll get you sorted. Jugs, a little big. How many do you need? Will this one do? There are other designs if the size is right, though they won't look exactly the same once I copy them."

He held out a clay jug about two gallons in size. Geometric artwork was etched into it; lines and triangles. It actually looked kind of cool, and made her think of the fractal fellow who'd been with Lili; Gerard, if she remembered the name right.

Maple leaned in close for a better look, and then jumped back as a miniature Pat popped out with a grin.

"Hah, hadn't seen that trick yet, right?"

His larger body was frozen in place while the smaller one waved and laughed from inside the pot. Maple chuckled.

"How does that work anyway? Is, um, astral projection involved? I did that recently by accident."

He raised his eyebrows and gave Maple a considering look.

"Yes, actually; a form of it, assisted with Skills for speed and such. I could split myself off, controlling many at once, but believe me, it does become problematic after a while. My oh my though, you are an interesting girl, aren't you? What trouble were you getting up to, pray tell?"

"Nothing lewd. It was just—I mean, it ended up that way, but it wasn't my fault. It was on accident."

Maple's face heated up, and Pat smirked.

"I never implied it was lewd, babe. But yes, go on?"

Maple ended up telling him about her and Thera's soul bond, along with some of the body sharing fiasco. It wasn't really secret, and it seemed like Pat would have the most experience with astral projection out of anyone she knew; Remi's experience as a ghost was different.

Pat picked up a clay pot with a blank surface.

"Well there's something I haven't done; sharing a vessel. Body. How fascinating. I wonder if two strangers would be able to manage it or if it requires the compatibility you two have. Just don't go messing with any of puppets if you find yourself experimenting in the future. Most of them are warded and keyed to me so you'd be in for a nasty surprise. Not that I think you would without asking, but better to warn ahead of time."

Maple nodded. She hadn't planned to take any of his bodies on a joyride. Pat indicated the empty surface of the pot with a chisel.

"What's your brand? We should do something custom if you're serious about this."

"Oh, uh, I haven't decided on a name yet. Just something generic is fine—"

"Maple, please. Your brand is important. What's it gonna be, Maple's Dairy? MD? Picture of a cow? Is Emma involved? How would I stylize a—a slime cow? But you're not using cows, are you? And MD isn't very catchy."

He tapped the chisel against the pot in thought. Maple grimaced. She really just didn't know yet. It could be anything she wanted, in theory, but maybe she should ask Betty and the others what they thought.

"I don't know. The girls are kind of involved now too, it's going to be like a collective, so..."

"But you'll own it? Maple's Milk. MM for short, like 'mm delicious milk'? A logo like this, [Quick Etch], and the art could be—what species are they? A mix, knowing Syber?"

His hand blurred as he made a quick engraving on it, one M overlapping another slightly lower M offset to the right. He surrounded it with a circle, and Maple had to admit it was kind of classy. Even if she didn't exactly want it to be known as Maple's Milk.

"Yeah, there's a lot of uh, bovine people, but it's a mix. What are you thinking?"

Maple watched him work his way around the pot, carving in a patterned background with stylized figures in the foreground. He worked fast, faster than Maple would have been able to attempt with a pen or pencil.

"As long as I get the overall aesthetic right, the copies should all have different peoples on them."

Maple didn't have a better idea, and he suddenly seemed into it so she let him work. After finishing the design, he applied a glaze and fired it in a small kiln. The whole process took less than 10 minutes thanks to his Skills.

He pulled it out of the oven with a bare hand and held it up. In his other hand was a cork large enough to seal it.

"Good enough. How many?"

"Uh, how much are they? Agh, I'm going to need like—a couple dozen, maybe? But I didn't even think about how I was going to carry them back..."

"Oh, let's say around half a silver each. Round down to 10 for two dozen. I could have them delivered for a decent price. Do you have a warehouse or such yet?"

Maple grimaced. She really needed to get on that, but for now she had two options. Between the two, it'd be easier for Emma to bring the milk to the inn than it would be to move jugs full of milk from Mirkham's house. Maple explained as much and Pat cracked his fingers.

"Right, then. My guy should come by in the evening. [Verisimilar Copy]. There we go. Now..."

Clones appeared. Each pot looked like the original, but with slightly different artwork as if Pat had been tasked with making the pot on two dozen different occasions. One even had a busty arachnid woman on it that reminded Maple of Charlotte.

Pat steepled his fingers while Maple examined the pots. He was working up to asking for his 'favor', she thought. Eventually she filled the silence with a chuckle.

"What was the favor? As long as it's not like, that kind of favor—"

"Hah. Would you truly mind if it were that kind of favor?"

Maple looked away, embarrassed. Sex shouldn't be a commodity, but, well, if that was what he was after...he seemed nice overall. And she'd get prana from it, anyway. She lied.

"Of course I'd mind..."

"Mhm. Alas, my sweet Maple. I merely wanted to ask for you to cast that spell on me, and perhaps, leave it on me for a protracted length of time. And just to set the record straight—or the opposite, rather—I'm almost strictly into men."

Oh. She supposed he did give off some gay vibes, not that she typically assumed such things about people. Maple tilted her head.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be fine I guess? I've never used it on a man before though, so I don't know if it'd even do anything? Want me to just—"

Maple waved a hand, as if to cast a spell on him right there. He bounced back a step.

"Ah-ah. This way, to my meat vessel. I'm sure it'll be fine, don't you worry. Here, put this on please."

He handed her a pot a little larger than her head. Maple stared at it in confusion. Pat held the back door open and turned to her.

"I don't like to be seen, so if you wouldn't mind?"

The confidence, the silliness of using a pot as a blindfold—it was all a mask, Maple thought, he felt awkward about the request. She obliged him, and placed the clay pot over her head. She could see the floor if she looked down. Pat gently grabbed her hand and led her along.

They entered another room. The floor was dark, but Maple closed her eyes out of respect anyway.

"I'm right over there. Can you cast blind, or do you need a limb to grab?"

"Uhh. Yeah, give me your hand or something."

Pat led her hand over until it came to a warm hand made of flesh. It felt smaller than his clay hand, and Maple wondered how different his real body was from his clay copies. With him so obviously self-conscious about it all, she decided not to ask.

"Okay, then. [Phallic Transformation]."

Simple. Maple gently let go, and Pat pulled her back a step.

"It's done? Excellent."

She nodded and then was quickly led out of the room again. Maple removed the pot and checked his face to see if he was satisfied, or for any indication of something horrible having happened instead. Would it give him two? Transform it into a clit?

His clay body stood motionless, abandoned again before he finally came back to life. His expression was hard to read, but he smiled at Maple.

"Thank you. Was there anything else you needed, dear? If you could, I'd like to keep the spell active for as long as possible. I know there's a mana cost, so...I don't suppose you could make it into an enchantment? Or a scroll, even? I would compensate you, of course."

There was a kind of half-fulfilled relief in his voice. Maple didn't want to refuse when it seemed so important to him, but she remembered something.

"Uh—sure? It doesn't cost that much mana. But it might be bad to have it for longer than, uh, five hours I think it was?"

"Oh? Why's that?"

Maple searched her brain, but found only fragments of old television and radio commercials advising one to contact their doctor if an erection lasted for longer than that. She frowned.

"...I don't know. But um, sure I guess, as long as you accept any risk. I also don't know if distance will be a problem, and I can't do enchantments or anything yet—um, I'm kind of new to the class I have, and it's a 'bound spell' so I don't really understand it fully. It worked okay, though?"

"Oh, yes. Exactly what I need, for reasons I'm not inclined to go into. Are you interested in learning enchanting? Scrolls are a rather cheap medium to get into, with their drawbacks. Otherwise, I would just as well offer to buy the spell itself from you and have a trustworthy [Enchanter] make something of it."

He was resistant to actually talk about the effect of the spell, Maple realized. She let the topic change gracefully and revealed she was an [Arcane Dabbler]. A good class for picking up any variety of Skills she wanted, according to Pat.

Learning how to make magic scrolls herself seemed preferable over just selling the spell, so Pat gave her some leads on where to begin along with some gold that Maple tried and failed to decline.

The funding meant she wouldn't be able to put studying off, and her plate grew ever fuller. She at least promised to use all of it for the supplies she'd need. She left him in a better mood than she'd found him in, and planned to come by the next day to make sure all was well with the spell.