Chapter 183: Marshmallows, Masks, and Mortifying Guests

Vuvi turns, catches sight of Veena’s face, and immediately grabs her by both shoulders, hauling her rapidly out of the room and depositing her on the hallway floor against the doorframe, well clear of whatever’s happening around Pip’s pelvis.

The floorboards there are cooler, further from the worst of the golden haze still pulsing in slow waves off the ceiling, and Vuvi crouches down in front of her, trying to put herself between Veena and the source of it.

Veena is practically delirious by this point, eyes glazed and dreamy, a loose, blissful grin spread across her face, the kind Vuvi’s only ever seen on the others after a few moments with Pip. Not after standing fully clothed at the edge of a room.

"What in the world is happening to you?" Vuvi demands.

Veena just shrugs, smiling wider. "I feel so warm... and wet." Her hand starts drifting slowly downward, edging between her own thighs.

Vuvi gasps, grabs her by the wrist, and hauls her straight out of the building, not stopping until the front doors swing shut behind them and cool morning air replaces whatever’s thickening the halls inside.

At the entrance, Zora, still costumed as a willowy elven bard, lute slung across his back, spots them stumbling out and drops the performance instantly, frowning. "What’s wrong, ladies?"

"Veena’s being affected by Pip’s new ability," Vuvi says, breathless. "Something to do with holy magic."

"Ah." Zora considers this for a moment, then nods slowly. "That would make sense. Demons are naturally weak to holy magic. Perhaps Pip’s particular flavor of it has some kind of effect on her, possibly even something close to an aphrodisiac. It might affect all demon-kin, honestly. Quite the upgrade."

"That actually does make some sense." Vuvi nods along, considering.

Veena rubs at her temples as the haze finally starts to lift. Her eyes snap open, and she turns to Vuvi, looking genuinely shaken. "That was... dangerous."

"What did it feel like?"

Veena shakes her head slowly. "Like what everyone always talks about. I felt like... a marshmallow dipped in a rainbow."

"That’s exactly what Penelo always says." Vuvi snorts.

"Because that’s exactly what it felt like." Veena shudders, then groans. "It was amazing. I finally understand why everyone’s so addicted to him. And that was just the air around him." She hitches, muttering, "The real thing must be absolutely mind-blowing."

She grabs Vuvi by both shoulders, eyes wide with horror. "I’m not ready! I won’t be able to work like this. Not with him releasing that into the air constantly. I won’t be able to focus. I won’t be able to keep my hands off myself." She sinks slowly to her knees, eyes welling, one hand pressed dramatically to her forehead like a mourning princess. "This is the end for me, Vuvela. I can’t keep working here. Not like this. Not against that."

"Grow up, demon!" Vuvi snaps, kicking her lightly in the shin. "We’ll figure something out. A mask, a filtration device, something. I don’t care what it takes, you’re not going anywhere. We need you."

Veena stands, dusting herself off, pouting. "I never get to be the dramatic one. It’s always Penelo, or Zora, or you, throwing yourselves around like the world’s ending. One time! I ask for one time."

"Your one time nearly ended with you fingering yourself in a hallway."

"Exactly! That’s dramatic, Vuvi." Veena moans.

Still shaking off the last of it, Veena lets Vuvi drag her a few streets over, past carts and stalls and a cluster of kittens chasing a stray chicken, until they duck into a cluttered mining equipment shop wedged between a smithy and a tannery, the air inside thick with the smell of oiled leather and metal shavings. Shelves sag under coiled rope, lanternstone, and pickaxes of every size, drawers labeled in a cramped hand nobody but the shopkeeper could possibly read.

Vuvi slams a fistful of coins onto the counter. "I need an air filter. Heavy-duty. Something that can strip magic straight out of the air."

The shopkeeper’s whole face lights up. "You’ve come to exactly the right place. Best filtration in the business, hands down. We fit these for deep-shaft miners working the cursed veins out north, the ones that leak raw magic straight into the tunnel air." He vanishes into the back room, shuffling around amid the clatter of loose parts, muttering to himself about which model would suit "a lady of discerning nostrils," and emerges a minute later hauling a massive respiratory rig, a full backpack unit connected to a bulky, full-face mask with thick, ribbed tubing snaking between the two.

He straps it onto a mannequin bust for demonstration, tapping the faceplate proudly. "Filters out ambient magic at ninety-two percent efficiency. Dwarven-forged, mined and smelted right here in the capital. You won’t find better this side of the mountain."

Veena stares at it, horrified. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"The price of doing business with Pip," Vuvi just shrugs. "For demon-kin, anyway."

Veena snarls at her, fangs bared.

The Palace of Pleasure opens for business a short while later, the banners still snapping overhead and the crowd from earlier now filing in through doors thrown wide, chatter and nervous giggling echoing off the polished front hall. A mature high-elf noblewoman, done up in silks far too fine for standing in line, steps through the front doors and lets out a sharp, startled yelp the moment she spots Veena stationed behind the front desk, mask and all, the bulky backpack rig strapped snug over her shoulders like some kind of ceremonial armor.

"Apologies for the getup," Veena winces, mortified. "Turns out the Prince is so good, I literally can’t breathe the air near him without getting horny." She shakes her head, cheeks flushing beneath the mask’s seal.

"Oh my," the noblewoman gasps, "I’ve heard he was good, but not... this good." She gestures to the respiratory rig.

Penelo and Lula sweep in a moment later, guiding the flustered noblewoman off toward the waiting room to be properly pampered.

Meanwhile, back near the main hall, Pip stands freshly cleaned and polished, wraith-glass catching the morning light streaming through the tall front windows. Vuvi circles him once, tugging a strap here, checking a seam there, the same careful once-over she gives him before every big outing.

"You good to go?"

Pip gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and a happy little string of beeps.

Vuvi laughs, slapping his shoulder. "Soon you’ll be able to say that with actual words."

His thumb wavers mid-air, the gesture faltering for half a second before he steadies it again.

"I’m heading out," Vuvi says. "Big day of learning ahead of me." She ruffles a hand over the top of his head. "Enjoy yourself today, okay?"

Pip nods, vigorous and eager. Vuvi laughs and pulls him into a quick hug, patting his head once more, and heads for the door.

On her way out, she passes Veena mid-conversation with another client and has to bite back a laugh at the sight of the mask bobbing along with every word, the ribbed tubing swaying gently with each nod. Moments later, Raikya leads that client off toward the waiting room, clearly fighting the exact same battle against her own laughter, ears pinned flat with the effort of holding it in.

Vuvi steps up to the front desk, visibly straining not to say something.

Veena shoots her a flat look through the mask’s fogged-up eyepiece. "Just say it and get it over with."

Vuvi swallows hard. "I would never make fun of you for that," she mutters.

"Mmhmm." Veena’s tone makes it abundantly clear she believes no part of that sentence.

Vuvi turns away, biting her lip. "I’ll be off, then. I trust you to keep things running smoothly."

Veena snaps off a crisp salute, and smacks her own hand straight into the mask with a loud clank~, cursing loudly into the muffling fabric.

Vuvi bolts for the door and bursts out laughing the second she’s clear of it, leaning against the sun-warmed stone of the entryway to catch her breath, the noise of the street washing back in around her as hawkers and hagglers chatter across the street.

Sera, standing guard just outside in her usual spot, arms crossed, glances over. "The mask?"

"The mask!" Vuvi wipes at her eyes, nodding.

Then Sera’s expression shifts, eyes going wide as she looks past Vuvi toward the street. Vuvi turns to follow her gaze and finds Vexena, Eris, and Maribelle cutting straight through the crowd, the throng of onlookers parting around them like water around stone, every conversation nearby dying mid-sentence as the trio strides directly toward the Pleasure Palace.

Eris reaches the door first, tail tucked neat behind her, scythe absent for once, though the sheer presence of her hardly needs a weapon to make the point. "I’ve come to see what all the fuss is about."

Vuvi looks up, way, way up, at the towering general, power radiating faintly off her even at rest, the air around her carrying that same charged, pre-storm heaviness Vuvi’s only ever felt before near Vexena, and swallows hard before glancing toward her mother.

"I may have bragged about your construct." Maribelle shrugs innocently. "A little."

Vuvi clears her throat and turns back to Eris with her brightest professional smile. "Of course. It would be an honor to have someone of your standing grace our establishment." She glances toward Vexena next. "Doubly so for the Demon Queen herself. We’re truly honored."

"I’m not touching the thing," Vexena scoffs, arms crossed tight over her chest. "They practically forced me to come along."

"Sure you are," Maribelle says, not even bothering to hide her smirk. "That’s why you changed outfits three times this morning."

"I did no such thing," Vexena snaps, a faint flush creeping up beneath her pale skin that has nothing to do with the morning sun.