Coye 4.5 (Patreon)

I split the troublesome chapter in two. This was admittedly a weird one. I don't think I'll be doing big huge descriptions of appearances like this before. In my head I thought it'd be interesting after all the build up, but it's probably just clunky.

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Chapter 5 - Shayla’s First Impressions

After fetching the requested drinks and Coco's two gravy bowls, Coye made his way to the Guild's backyard. There he found six picnic tables for adventurers to use at their leisure. Given that the Guild and Cransmere itself were too dreary a place for anyone in their right mind to want to engage in outdoor activities, few people ever hung out there. Unless they felt like admiring the relatively peaceful and gloomy atmosphere, that is.

Britni and her friends sat together on one of the long, wooden tables, awaiting their errand boy to pass out the drinks. This wasn't the first time they called him back here. It was one of Britni's favorite places. Out of the way, quiet, far from any nagging Guild Mistresses. Perfect for a spot of bullying.

While Coye handed off the beverages, Shayla committed every last detail of the Baddest Bitches to memory. Aside from the months she spent spying on Coye, it was the most intensely she'd ever studied anyone before. Shayla needed to know these girls in and out. She needed to find out if there were any who 'sparked' with Coye and proved her assumption that his bullies were into him correct.

The most noticeable thing Shayla noticed about the Baddest Bitches was that they were fashionable- almost unbelievably so. Each wore luxurious outfits, tons of accessories, and even heavy makeup in Britni and Tiphanie's case. This put them at odds with almost everyone Shayla had seen living their lives in this depressing, forlorn village.

It was hard not to give them points just for that.

"Tasty meat sauce!" Coco exclaimed as Coye placed her gravy bowls in front of her. The chef who took his order gave him a strange look upon hearing the request, but they understood as soon as he explained who it was for.

Coco dunked her face into the first bowl, licking at it like normal dogs do. Her head became a blur as she started to voraciously slurp at the steaming, flavorful juices. A portion of the gravy found its intended destination while the rest flew onto her cheeks and the table. So long as she could taste all that delicious salt, Coco was happy regardless.

Coco was a member of the Beastfolk, more specifically, a young Dogfolk girl. She was the shortest party member and also the youngest. Shayla noticed she was even shorter than Byng. Flatter, too. Her body could be described as healthy, athletic, and petite if one were being charitable and childlike if they weren't.

Coco had short, brown hair with cream-colored tips, most of it not reaching past her neck. Her locks fluffed outwards away from the sides of her face, and two large curly bangs covered up the space where her human ears would've been if she had any. Her eyes were bright blue, her eyebrows short, bushy, and almost always scrunched in annoyance. She had such an impressive resting bitch face that she could give Tammy a run for her gold.

Coco didn't disappoint Shayla with her fashion, even if she was the most casually dressed of the Baddest Bitches.

She wore black hot pants held up by a purple belt styled by a silver bone-shaped buckle. Up top, she had on a black tank top with pink trim, a pink bow, and a heart cut from its center. Coco's most noticeable article of clothing was an opened oversized blue puffy coat with sharp, symmetrical purple patterns on both its considerable sleeves. Those sleeves ended in wide, fluffy cuffs, and her neck was surrounded by a matching furred coat collar. The young girl also had a literal collar wrapped around her slim neck, made from black leather studded with steel spikes.

Shayla had seen some Beastfolk during her time in Cransmere, and Coco didn't drastically differ from the others. Starting from her upper thigh, a thick coat of vivid light brown fur covered her entire leg, ending in digitigrade dog paws with black claws. Most of her arms were covered up by her jacket, and all that could be seen were her furry hands. Unlike her feet, these were more of a fusion between a human's hands and a dog's paw. They had five fingers, soft pink paw pads on her palm and each fingertip, and more razor-sharp black claws that put fear in her enemies' hearts.

On the top of her head sat two huge, pointed ears that swiveled, twitched, and reacted to every little sound in the environment. They were already cute on their own, but Coco(or whoever dressed her) always fastened a pair of striped bows in front of each ear to make them even better. One was pink, the other sky blue.

Lastly, there was her big, bushy tail. It looked almost bigger than her body and was fluffier than it had any right to be. Sinfully so. Her anxieties be damned, Shayla was tempted to pop out and shove her face in all that furry goodness.

After considering all this, Shayla gave Coco a rating of nine out of ten. She wasn't all that fond of Beastfolk since they brought to mind their more primal cousins who tended to chase and eat Pixies, but Coco was precious enough that she could ignore it.

"Hey! Are you skimping out on me, squirt?" Tiph had only swallowed a single sip of her expensive bubbly wine before spitting it onto the dirt. "This isn't wine. This is, like, piss water that just so happens to have bubbles. Laaaaaame."

"Sorry," Coye shrugged, his natural 'good boy' instincts upset over letting Tiph down. "It was the best they had."

Shayla raised a suspicious eyebrow. Hadn't Coye told her Tiph was the nicest of the Baddest Bitches? Clearly, he didn't know what he was talking about. The Pixie looked at Tiph in greater detail, putting her through the same intensive stare-down Coco was given.

Tiphanie Biledrop was the oldest member of Britni's party but was still in her early twenties. She was also the tallest and the one with the largest bust by far. Her outfit was tailored around those two facts, emphasizing her chest and long legs to an astonishing degree.

Alchemists were known for their long and sweeping coats, and Tiph was no exception. The only difference between her and her peers was that Tiph's lab coat was designer. It fell past her knees, was pure white with gold trimming, and featured fancy blue and purple triangular patterns on her short sleeves and the bottom lining. Tiph's coat had wide pockets on each hip, and dozens of glass vials filled with multicolored liquids could be seen popping out from them.

Her single-breasted purple collar was spread wide, exposing her black, strapless, similarly gold-trimmed top that looked little more than a bra. An excessive amount of cleavage threatened to pop out of the tight confines, but her exposed navel covered only by her silver belt buckle wasn't too sorry a sight, either.

Tiph's long, curvy legs flowed from a tight black designer short skirt and were covered in an even tighter pair of shredded purple fishnet tights. A purposeful cut every so often drew attention to large swathes of her soft, pale flesh in a compelling way. Her footwear was no less impressive or expensive-looking. Mismatched black, gold-trimmed boots traveled down her legs, one from above a knee and the other from below. Both boots ended in heels made for strutting.

Tiph accessorized much more heavily than her furry friend. She had a couple of silver piercings in her left ear, a heart-shaped white choker around her neck, a red ribbon tied around her collar hanging at the base of her cleavage, and a pair of silver bracelets emblazoned with alchemic sigils over top of the wrists of her fingerless white and black gloves. Even the tools of her trade were stylish, as evident by the red and gold safety goggles sitting atop her head and the bag of potions and components hanging off her waist.

Her hair was flowing green, with purple streaks in her bangs that stopped just above her droopy, absent eyes. Tiph's lips were painted purple, as were her eyelids. The thick eyeshadow she always wore made her look even more worn out than she actually was. In contrast to her checked-out expression, Tiph's irises were a striking pinkish-red color. Shayla irrationally felt this made the young woman seem jaded, maybe even cruel. Like they were a surface crack that makeup and a friendly smile couldn't hide.

The only other thing of note was her weapon- a strange, 'L'-shaped piece of metal holstered to her belt. Shayla had no idea what it was, but she didn't like the look of it one bit.

Taking everything into consideration, Shayla gave Tiph a six out of ten. While the Pixie respected her impeccable fashion, she couldn't look past everything else that bothered her about the alchemist. Sometimes, somebody just rubbed you in all the wrong ways, and Shayla happened to be easily rubbed wrongly.

It hardly took her more than a glance to know that she wanted Coye to have nothing to do with Tiph. Ever.

"Thanks," Marlie said as she looked into the cheap beer Coye bought her. If Tiph's expensive, bubbling wine was piss water, Marlie feared for the quality of the drink in her frothing mug.

Shayla had never seen a Demon before, not even a Half-Demon like Marlie. Among the members of the Baddest Bitches, she was the one who stuck out the most. Marlie was distant, barely paying attention to the situation unfolding before her. Instead, her focus was on a malevolent, red-bladed short sword that she plucked from a plume of black smog summoned in front of her.

Rather than joining in on the bullying, Marlie continually dragged this weapon against a personal whetstone until it screamed the scream of steel on stone.

Marlie's skin was dark brown, a color in stark contrast with the numerous volcanic cracks running across her exposed flesh, each sporadically burning with the flames of the Endless Hells. Her form was slim, slender, and svelte, and she was only a few inches taller than Coye, even counting the subtly curving purple horns coming out the sides of her head. Her short, tomboyish hair was a dusky red color, which Shayla thought suited her and complimented the many silver piercings in her pointed ears.

Whereas the other three Bitches styled themselves beautiful or cute, Marlie went against the grain and came off cool as ice. She dressed solely in dark colors, preferring silver to gold and adorning herself in gratuitous leather. She wore a tight, dark gray tank top that pushed together and showcased her small breasts thanks to a tasteful breast window. Her pants were of a similar color and tightness, heightened by spiked red boots and a studded red leather belt adorned in silver chains and dagger-shaped pendants. A sharp, arrow-shaped black tail poked out from a slit in her faded violet battle skirt, slithering around the air every so often like a snake.

Marlie had many accessories, starting with a fingerless black leather glove on her left hand and a demonic, clawed gauntlet on her right. She wore a red choker upon her neck and a pair of silver necklaces, while a series of three interlocked spiked silver pauldrons fastened to her top sat upon her left shoulder. All that remained of note was the black facemask she wore, obscuring her features and making her already menacing eyes all the more threatening.

Assigning Marlie a rating was difficult for Shayla, as the facemask wasn't doing her any favors, and she wasn't the biggest fan of how much the Half-Demoness clashed with her party members. She was great on her own, but cohesion was essential to the fashion-minded Pixie. A tentative eight out of ten was decided with negotiable wiggle room, depending on her personality.

Britni slammed down her mead in a single gulp. "Ahhh, fuck yeah! I don't know what you're on about, Tiph. The drinks here are, like, fucking fire. It's been like a week since I had any mead, though, so I'd probably drink just about anything right about now." She said, casually throwing her mug to the ground in a rowdy display.

Finally, Shayla turned her attention to the undeniable star of this whole affair- the barbaric bully herself, Britni.

Britni's style and flair were unmatched, plain and simple. Shayla never would've thought that a look like Britni's- which was equal parts diva and Viking raider- could work. Yet, it did just that, and Britni was absolutely killing it.

Britni was the second tallest member of her party, and her body was curvaceous with wide hips, a slim, well-toned tummy, and moderately large breasts. Every inch of her heavily exposed body was heavily tanned through magical means, and she loved to show it off. To do so, Brini wore a quilted pink skirt with slits and a matching fur-collared, fur-sleeved tanktop. The trim of both garments was nothing short of luxurious, each ornamented with shimmering Midgardian folk patterns wrought from pure gold.

Furred leggings transitioned below her knees into a pair of massive fur boots. Golden chained jewelry hanging from their halfway point, clinking and shining with every step she took. The tips of pink shoes could be seen poking out from beneath the expansive, gratuitously fluffy legwear. A black leather studded belt was slung lazily across her hips, where her beloved handaxe was holstered alongside Coco's treat pouch.

Her arms were guarded by a pair of leather gauntlets inscribed with glowing Midgardian runes, and atop her left wrist, Britni sported a sapphire studded silver bracelet with a chain at the bottom of it attached to a beautiful ring on her middle finger.

Fashion and accessories weren't the only things Britni had going for her, either. Her long, curly blonde hair was tied in a ponytail spreading out and fanning off in every direction like the winter's wind. Her tips and the bottom of her two curly bangs were dyed a striking strawberry pink, and behind those bangs, a sizable pair of silver hooped earrings sparkled. Tying it all together was an intricate silver hair clip shaped like a runic hammer situated at the top of her right bang.

Last but not least of all was Britni's makeup. Shayla would've called the look exaggerated, maybe even clownish on anyone other than Britni. It defied Shayla's understanding the way Britni's puffy lips were accentuated by her vivid blue lipstick and pearly gloss or how her matching eyeshadow brought even more attention to the alluring, long lashes of her captivating frost-colored eyes. On each cheek were painted three blue hearts, just for added cuteness.

It was all so much to take in, so beautiful and intricate.

Ten wasn't enough. Eleven was cutting it short, too, as was twelve. Shayla gave Britni a thirteen out of ten. The forest-dwelling Pixie felt like this was her first genuine glance at what fashion looked like in the wider Realm, which served as an eye opener unlike any other.

That concluded Shayla's surface-level observations on the Baddest Bitches, meaning it was now time for her to keep quiet and see how things played out.