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A Mythical Match Up - A Vivacious Vocalist
🕑 Added 2021-01-04 02:29:30 +0000 UTCRob glared at the long rows of spiky waveforms as though they had personally offended him. He gripped his mouse and carefully, almost apprehensively, highlighted a small slice of the middle track. He right clicked and a menu with a long list of options appeared. Rob selected 'bass and treble' and yet another menu - this one fully windowed - appeared. He adjusted the treble, lowering it but not entirely cutting it from the section and then clicked 'OK.' The spike dipped ever-so-slightly.
Rob exhaled and leaned back, his office chair squeaking softly as it titled. He gazed morosely up at the stucco surface of the ceiling through dull, sunken eyes. Tiny reflections of computer screens gleamed in the corners of his glasses.
He didn't want to hit play. In fact, he now shuddered at the prospect. If he did, he'd have to listen to the song again and, in all likelihood, would still not be satisfied with what he heard. Yet a quick glance down at the time confirmed his suspicion that he'd been fiddling around with the measure for well over half an hour. Grimacing with the resigned expression of someone about to prod a sore tooth, Rob sat up in his chair and tapped the space bar.
Expensive speakers blared to life. The walls and floor of the once quiet bedroom shuddered under the acoustic onslaught. The song was pure EDM - no instruments or vocals, synthesized or otherwise. It was a complex, syncopated electronic melody grounded with heavy bass beats. On the main monitor a long white line started scrolling across the tracks. Rob watched and listened, head gently nodding to the beat, until the white line reached section he had tweaked. The tempo slowed as the song modulated, growing softer, almost contemplative. Then, it shifted back to the original tempo, adapting an urgent, almost angry quality.
Rob tapped the space bar. The song stopped.
"Okay, that did improve the bridge a bit," he murmured with an odd mixture of relief and frustration. "That second part still needs some work though."
It was at this point he realized - or rather, his growling stomach reminded him - that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. And he'd barely eaten anything at work. He rose from his chair and, after pausing for a few seconds to let a dizzy spell pass, staggered out of his bedroom and made his way down the hall towards the kitchen.
The hallway was dark; the kitchen less so, though still dim enough to send Rob fumbling for the light switch on the wall. When he flicked it he squinted and shielded his eyes from the sudden radiance.
The kitchen consisted of stovetop oven, a built-in microwave, a worn, ancient but nonetheless functional refrigerator - currently festooned with various, occasionally funny, magnets - a stainless steel sink and numerous wooden cabinets. The kitchen was separated from the living room (a couch, TV and PlayStation - little else) by a faux-marble counter with three barstools on the living room side. It wasn't filthy or even technically dirty, but one would be forgiven for describing the space as cluttered or even disheveled. The far end of the counter was littered with unopened junk mail, flyers, magazines, and even a few legitimate letters. Boxes and cans of foodstuff occupied half the surface area in the kitchen (a few of them were open) and a dish rack adjoining the sink was filled with pots, pans, dishes and utensils (all clean, or at least clean-looking). Someone had left their jacket on the couch.
Rob grumbled with disapproval. He entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He scanned the interior, noting that some of his roommates' items were encroaching out of demilitarized zone into his quarter of the fridge. Seeing nothing particularly enticing, he checked the freezer and, after a moment's hesitation, carefully pulled a frozen pizza from a tall stack of flat boxes. He shut the freezer door, grabbed a bottle of soda and then shut the fridge door as well. He set the oven's temperature, tore open the box and plastic covering and, once the oven had grown hot enough, slid the pizza inside and set the timer.
His phone started buzzing. Rob sighed and dug it out of his pocket. One of his roommates had texted him.
hey man. did a package come?
Rob glanced over at the front door. He walked over, opened it and looked down and around the porch. Apart from the tattered doormat he saw nothing. He paused a moment to gaze out at the faint orange glow of the horizon over the cityscape and up at the darkening firmament before shutting the door.
no he texted back.
shoot. thx for checking came a reply seconds later.
Rob frowned.
your side of the fridge is getting really crowded Rob tapped. and the dish rack is full too. and you really need to put your shit in the cabinets, not leave them out.
There was a long pause before his roommate replied.
sorry, man. i've just been busy lately.
Rob snorted. He felt a familiar anger rising.
yeah, me too, but when it's my turn I clean up the kitchen. and all of my stuff is where it's supposed to be.
The reply came quicker this time.
that's cause you don't have a life beyond work and making those songs, man
"That sonnava..." growled Rob.
forgive me for having a passion, asshole he replied
jeez, lighten up came a reply.
Before Rob could respond, another text message appeared.
sorry, sorry. look, i'll make it up to you. check this app out.
Below the text was a link to the app store - something called "Mythic Matches." Rob raised an eyebrow.
some kind of game? i'm not really into mobile he tapped.
no, no man. it's not a game. it's a lifechanger. why do you think i haven't been around so much? just check it out.
Rob sighed. fine. i'll check it out. but seriously. clean up the kitchen when you come back
i will. let me know who you wind up with texted his roommate cryptically.
Rob shrugged. He checked the oven and saw it would still be another nine minutes before his dinner would be ready. To pass the time he spent a few minutes reading the news on his phone. Then, he remembered the app. Somewhat reluctantly, he re-opened his roommate's message and tapped the link. The app store opened and he was automatically directed to the Mythic Matches product page.
The app - or game - appeared to be some kind of dating simulator. It was set in the fictional universe of "The Realms of Shaltae" and boasted it would match the user with their ideal lover, friend or confidant using something called 'soul resonance.' One's ideal lover, friend or confidant would, of course, be a denizen of the Realms of Shaltae, which was apparently populated exclusively by mythological creatures.
It was remarkably cheap at only $1.99. It also promised "no in-app purchases*," the asterisk referencing a short disclaimer at the bottom of the page stating that third parties could offer purchases through the app. Rob narrowed his eyes upon reading this; sneaky stuff like that did not exactly engender his confidence He checked the reviews and discovered to his mild surprise that it had received near universal approbation. It was rated at 4.9 out of 5 stars with well over ten thousand ratings. Nearly every one of its reviews was positive. The few negative reviews were short and unhelpful; most of them appeared to be written by trolls.
"O...kay," said Rob softly. He hesitated, and then scrolled back up to the top. He gazed at the 'install' button for a few seconds and then tapped it.
Then, the oven started beeping.
"Oh, yeah," muttered Rob. He absently pocked his phone, grabbed a pair of padded mitts hanging from a nearby hook and carefully pulled the now steaming pizza from the oven. He placed it carefully on a plate, cut it into four even slices and carried it along with the bottle of soda into the living room. After depositing the plate and his drink on the coffee table he plopped back on the couch with a grateful sigh.
"Goddamn, I needed this," said Rob as he opened the soda.
Rob had nearly finished the third slice when he remembered the app. He put the half-eaten pizza back on the plate and retrieved his phone. The app had finished installing and its icon had appeared - a human face gazing lovingly at what appeared to be an elven or possibly some kind of cat-person face equally enamored with its counterpart. He tapped it.
The screen went black. His phone grew strangely warm in his hand. Rob gazed down with increasing alarm, fearing the app had crashed his phone, until a larger version of the app's icon faded in and out. A textbox then appeared against a background of medieval stonework. It read:
'Welcome to the Realms of Shaltae! Our exquisitely woven thaumaturgic formulae have already pierced the veil separating our realities and found harmonic souls. You may find a new friend, confidant, sweetheart or even your true love. To commune with the denizens of our world, simply touch their portrait. New matches may reveal themselves in time as others in the Realms open their hearts to us. Be polite, honest, but bold! Our clients seek companions who intrigue, impress, and excite.'
Rob chuckled and tapped the screen. A second, smaller textbox appeared.
'This is not a game! Take this seriously and consider the consequences of your words and actions! The denizens of Shaltae are quite real!'
"Cute," laughed Rob. "Now, let's see what's so life-changing about this game."
A second tap of the screen generated eight portraits of what Rob assumed were potential imaginary matches. They were arrayed like overlapping playing cards; tapping one would pull the portrait from the rest along with a sort of autobiography. The portraits were incredibly well-drawn and exquisitely detailed. In fact, when Rob squint his eyes he could have sworn that they were photographs, not illustrations or CG. All eight matches were female - very female - and belonged to some fantastical race. Some Rob recognized from other media; two of them appeared to be elves, for example, complete with pointy ears and flowing golden hair. A few others seemed to be inventions of the game designers (or originated from some game, book or mythology he wasn't acquainted with). One of the portraits depicted a sort of anthropomorphic feathered serpent with rainbow scales and feathers, beautiful blue eyes, a demure yet beguiling smile and, somewhat incongruously given she appeared reptilian, an enormous pair of nearly-naked breasts.
"So, it's that kind of game," said Rob dryly.
He browsed through a few of his matches, impressed by the artwork but not much else. Then, he selected the seventh portrait.
She differed from the others in that she wasn't smiling or posing in a seductive manner. And while curvy, she wasn't as outrageously proportioned as the rest. She was a lagomorph - a rabbit person. Her pelt was as smooth and white as polished alabaster. She wore a somewhat plain, faded black dress with gray frills around the neck along with a black fabric choker; the dark colors contrasted nicely with her fur. Her long ears drooped forward over her head, her bright pink eyes wide in an expression of mild surprise and puzzlement.
Intrigued, Rob read her bio. It was far shorter than the others as well.
"My name is Fili. I belong to the house Elistaechaux in Vernali. I seek a kind and understanding heart."
"Okay, Fili, nice to meet you," said Rob. He took another bite of pizza and swig of soda before continuing. "Let's see how this works..."
Still chewing, he tapped the 'contact' button under her portrait. A message box and digital keyboard appeared. A prompt above the box read 'Introduce yourself!'
"I just...type something?" said Rob. "Some kind of chatbot?" He shrugged and, after a moment's thought, started tapping away.
'hi Fili! I'm Rob. I love your style!'
Rob hit enter and waited. Seconds passed. Then a minute.
"Wow," he said sarcastically. "Well, my life has changed. I'm down 2 bu-"
A soft bell-like tone filled the air. A reply appeared in the message box.
'Hello?"
Rob raised an eyebrow.
'hi, Fili? This is Rob. I was just saying I like your style. Your clothes, i mean.'
There was another pause, albeit a much shorter one.
'This...this spell. It really works? I am speaking with a creature from another world?'
"O...kay," said Rob, puzzled.
'Yeah, I guess you are. I'm from Earth,' tapped Rob. 'Planet Earth,' he added, deciding to get into the spirit of the game.
'My clothes, ye say? But they are...I do not wear them by choice. All ladies in waiting of Elistaechaux'
...and that was it. Another minute passed.
'Yes? All ladies in waiting of elistachax what?' entered Rob, now confused.
Again, there was no response.
"Jeez, either there's a bug or this chatbot really sucks," said Rob, shaking his head. "That's it. Refund time..."
Just as he was about to close the app, a reply finally appeared.
'Rob of Earth! I wish to visit ye!'
"Huh?" said Rob.
'Visit me? what do you mean?'
There was yet another pause before Fili responded.
'This spell is too awkward for meaningful conversation. Better to speak face to face. Please?'
A textbox appeared over the chat. It read 'Fili wants to meet you! Do you accept?' Below the textbox, Rob was presented with a 'Yes' button and 'No' button.
Rob sighed. "Fine," he muttered, tapping the 'Yes' button. "Hopefully this damn thing will start making sense soon."
Seconds ticked by. Nothing seemed to happen. Rob tapped the 'Yes' button a few more times but nothing changed. Eventually, the screen went dark.
"Goddamnit," cursed Rob, shaking his phone. "It crashed. What a piece of sh-"
A loud thump filled the room. Rob jerked up in his seat and slowly looked over his shoulder. The sound had come from down the hall. Then, to his growing fear, he heard something else - an unfamiliar voice, muffled and unintelligible but definitely not one of his roommates.
Rob swallowed. He looked around the room for some kind of weapon. Seeing nothing, he went to his phone but found it was still unresponsive. He looked at the front door and briefly considered making a run for it.
Then, he heard a door open. A figure emerged from the darkness of the hallway. Rob sprung to his feet with a yelp and stared at the newcomer, breathing heavily.
She was slightly shorter than him. It was difficult to ascertain her build owing to the dark dress but something about the way she moved suggested a toned yet pleasantly ample body. Her long, white ears were completely erect over her head. Her shimmery white fur seemed to glow under the ceiling light, though her pelt was noticeably marred by a few spots of grime and dirt here and there. She had an expression of fear and confusion that mirrored Rob's own, her pink eyes darting back and forth as she took in her new surroundings.
"You're...Fili...?" croaked Rob in disbelief.
"Rob?" intoned Fili in a soft, melodic voice.
The two stared at one another for a time. Then, Fili's lips tightened.
"Sod it," she half-hissed, half-whimpered. "It's gone. Every last bit. Three years' hard work."
Her fuzzy paw-like hands curled into trembling fists. She wrung them in the air.
"Damn those pox-eaten guards," she cursed, growing angrier by the second. She started to pace. "May they and the whores that birthed them choke on their own make!" she growled.
"Wh-What?" exclaimed Rob, completely at a loss. If nothing else, he was taken aback by the contrast between her adorable appearance and vulgar language.
Lili stopped at glared at him.
"Am I in Earth?" she asked. "Well?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah, you're on Earth," said Rob.
She sighed.
"At least it worked," she said. "And I'm not rotting in a cell." She took a deep breath. "Thanks for your help, whoever and whatever ye are, but I'd like to go back to Vernali now. Preferably by the Garden of Weeping Stars."
"H-Hold on!" said Rob, raising his hands. "What the hell is going on here? How did you get here?"
"What? Ye summoned me, you daftie," huffed Lili irritably, folding her furry arms.
"Yeah, but...that app brought you here?" said Rob in astonishment. "And...and you're from...what's it called....Shaltae?"
Fili gave him an odd look.
"I admit I didn't think the spell would work for me either," she said, almost conversationally. "I saw the mistress trace the rune on her mirror and heard the words of the spell. I tried it on a hand mirror I filc-...borrowed, for a laugh, but then the damned thing started glowing and..." she shrugged.
Rob stared at her.
"So, when I agreed to meet you this app transported you here?"
"Is everyone in this world as thick as you?"
"I'm just...trying to wrap my head around this," exclaimed Rob weakly. He ran his fingers though his hair. "I...there isn't supposed to...an app shouldn't be able to do this. There's...no such thing as magic..." he trailed off.
Fili cocked her head and looked at Rob's chest.
"Target?" she read aloud.
"Huh?"
"It reads 'Target,' that thing on your chest."
"What?"
"Are ye some kind of living training dummy?"
"Oh, no," said Rob, realizing he still hadn't removed his employee badge and shirt. "It's just the name of the store I work. It's uh, a big store. They sell pretty much everything."
"Fascinating," said Fili sardonically. "Now that we've been acceptably civil to one another could you send me home?"
Rob shot her a sour glance. The shock of her appearance was finally wearing off and her behavior was starting to grate on his nerves. Besides, he needed to know what the hell was going on.
"Now hold on," she said. "You said you wanted to meet me. But as soon as you get here you want to go home?"
"Well, we've met, haven't we?" said Fili. "But...all th' same I'd rather not stay now. I didn't expect...this."
Rob wasn't good at reading tells - and was dealing with an entirely, hitherto unknown sapient species - but something about the way her ears drooped back made him suspect she was hiding something. And, based on what she had said when she first arrived, he had a pretty good idea what it was.
"Look, I'm from another dimension, world, whatever," he said, changing his approach. "Whatever trouble you're in, hell, I wouldn't know who, where or how to report it. Just tell me. I think you owe me that much. This is really freaking me out."
Rob saw her tense up. For a moment she looked as though she were about to run - or possibly strike him - but then her shoulders sagged. She looked over at the couch and then up at Rob.
"Ye have anything to drink? Something to wet th' tongue before I wag it? Strong stuff, if ye have it." She paused and gave Rob an appraising. "Ye do know what I mean by 'a drink,' right?"
"Oh, uh, alcohol, booze, yeah," said Rob. One of his roommates did have four bottles of a six pack remaining in the fridge. He briefly considered grabbing one - if there were any circumstances his roommate would forgive him for stealing a bottle, this had to be one of them - but decided not to. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, we're out. I, uh, could get you a bottle of Sprite or coke."
"A sprite?" said Fili nervously. "As in, one of those wee flying folk?"
"No, no, no it's just a name for a drink," said Rob quickly. "It's uh, very sugary and bubbly. Coke is the same but it's darker, more...spicy, I guess."
"Either one, then," sighed Fili.
Still shaking, Rob retrieved an unopened bottle of Sprite from the kitchen and handed to Fili, who had taken a seat on the couch. She adjusted the skirt of her black dress. Rob noted that she wasn't wearing any shoes over her giant feet; rather, she had a pair of very thick looking black socks. Fili regarded the perspiring plastic green bottle for a few seconds before Rob reached over and twisted the cap open for her. She hesitantly raised the bottle to her pink lips and took a sip.
"Blekk!" she said, wincing. "How can anything be this sweet? It's like three spoonfuls of honey all at once!"
"I said it was sugary," said Rob. "I can get some water or milk if you'd prefer."
"Do I look like a child?" said Fili irately. "This will have to do." She took another sip before continuing.
"When ye called on me through th' mirror I was, ah...visiting another house belonging to a petty noble of Vernali. When she visited the mistress during the Solstice Festival last week, she - what was her name...it doesn't matter I suppose - spent half the night bragging about this ebony statuette she'd acquired from Do va Eins. So I thought I'd pay her house a visit to take a look at it."
"You mean, steal, right?" said Rob.
Fili gave him an offended look.
"I'm not stupid. When you first came here you were going on about guards and being thrown in a cell."
"No, it was a misunderstanding," said Fili innocently. "I only wanted to take a peek."
Rob raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Fine, dammit, steal," conceded Fili. "Rob, filch, purloin, acquire unlawfully, whatever ye want to call it. Ye'd be amazed by how careless those pointy-eared elven fops are with their secrets when they're mixing with other fops, guzzling libations like spring water. And on the rare occasion someone sees me sneakin' in their house, well, they barely bat an eye since I'm just another lady-in-waiting like the dozen others they don't bother to learn the name of. Usually," she added.
Rob digested this.
"So, you're a maid or something," he said slowly. "And you steal from your employer and her friends?"
"Not from the mistress," said Fili sharply. "Not from the Elistaechaux estate or any of its holdings." She pointed at her fabric choker. "If I tried, this damned thing would stop me."
"Wait, what?" said Rob.
Fili didn't respond immediately. She stared down at the floor and took another sip of her Sprite before continuing.
"When I was but a wee kit, some gold-helmeted guard caught me filching peaches from the Elistaechaux gardens," she said glumly. "I couldn't afford the fine so I was made chattel of the house. That was seven years ago."
"You're an indentured servant?" said Rob. "And...seven years, just for some fruit?"
"Most th' fine was for trespassing, but yes," sighed Fili. "The mistress is kind enough, truth be told, and the work isn't backbreaking, but they deduct the cost of my meals, my lodgings, my clothes, hah, any broken dishes or scuffed silverware. Were I to continue as things are, I'd be free in, oh, seven years."
"That's...horrible!"
"So, forgive me for freelancing a little," said Fili sharply. "I've been doing it since I could walk; it's only trade I know." Suddenly, her face went dark. "I'd almost saved enough to pay off my debt," she continued softly. "That statuette, even after my fence's cut, might've done the trick. But now I've barely a coin to my name."
"Why?"
Fili gave him a bitter look.
"Why? How do you think I got here? That damned enchantment demanded a sacrifice of wealth to send me to your world. Quite a lot, I might add."
There was silence.
"And now you're stuck here," concluded Rob sadly.
"I..." Fili suddenly looked fearful. "Am I, Rob?" she whispered, gazing at him with her enormous pink eyes.
"...I actually don't know," admitted Rob nervously. He looked down at his phone and picked it up. He pressed the home button on the side and to his relief the Mythic Matches logo appeared along with an options menu that hadn't been there before. He looked back up at Fili.
"Tell you what," he said slowly. "My roommates won't be home until around midnight. Why don't you make yourself at home while I figure this out?" He paused, noting, now that she was close by, that her fur was actually quite dirty. And had a surprisingly rank odor. "Maybe you'd like to take a shower?"
"A shower?"
* * *
"...Upon which time, a portal leading back to the visitor's world will appear," read Rob aloud to himself. "It will return the visitor to the precise location where they originally left their world unless that location...yadda yadda yadda..."
Rob looked up from his phone. The sound of the running shower still emanated from the hall. He checked the time on his computer and then got back to reading.
"...If more than a minute passes the visitor will be drawn into the portal. Do not attempt to...blah blah blah...for more information, contact customer support," he finished.
He put the phone down and breathed a long sigh of relief.
"Fili?" he called, looking over his chair rest.
There was no response.
"Hope she doesn't use all of the hot water," he muttered a smidgeon resentfully.
Then, he heard her. It wasn't a reply. Rather, she was singing. Even through the door and the hiss of the shower he could make out almost every word. Her voice was sweet and melodic yet lively and vigorous.
...All golden livery,
Our hearts...sympathy,
Rob slowly rose from his seat. He stepped out into the hall almost as though in a trance. Her voice was clearer now. He listened.
We....we kissed,
....promise, I wist
"She's incredible," he breathed.
Cliché dictated that one always sang better in the shower; if Fili lost even half her musical ability outside it, she'd still put most professional singers to shame by Rob's reckoning.
Rob approached the bathroom door. He hesitated, and then leaned forward and pressed his ear against it.
It occurred to him just as the door slowly swung open that Fili had left it slightly ajar.
His glasses fogged slightly in the warm moist air but he could still see her clearly in the stall and the translucent shower curtain did little to blur the more intimidate regions of her body. She was, as Rob had suspected, quite curvaceous, with wide hips and pert, generous breasts that were almosttoo large to be ridiculous on her frame. Her stomach had but the slightest pudge to it. Her arms and legs were not skinny but neither were they fat. Her gorgeous white fur clung to her skin like a wetsuit in the shower. And, sure enough, Rob spied a puffball tail between her buttocks.
This all came to him in a second before the rational part of his brain realized what he was doing. He grabbed the knob and quickly but quietly shut the door.
The singing stopped.
"Rob?"
Fortunately, she'd been facing away from the hall.
"Uh, yeah, it's me," he managed. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. "Sorry to bug you but, uh, I have some good news."
"Oh, very well," she replied, her voice muffled. "Let me finish up."
"...Okay," said Rob, red-faced.
A few minutes later Fili emerged from the steamy bathroom fresh and beaming. She had accepted one of Rob's bathrobes and had wrapped it tightly around her still dripping body. Unfortunately, this served to accentuate the figure Rob had quite recently viewed. He tried to avoid looking directly at her.
"By the gods, that was bliss itself!" she squeaked delightedly. "And this robe, mmm, so soft and warm," she said, feeling the fabric.
"Er, glad you liked it," said Rob, adjusting his belt.
"So, what was this about good news?" inquired Fili as she brushed back her long, floppy ears.
"I read up on how this works," said Rob, gesturing at his phone. "The app. Or, um, the enchantment as you put it. I'm not sure how much you paid, but at most, you'll be here for a week. You might even be able to go home in..." he glanced back at the computer clock "...thirty odd minutes."
"Are ye certain?"
"Yeah, it says here that after your time is up a portal will open up to take you back where you came from." He paused. "Actually, that might be a bit of a snag since it will take you back to that other noble's house. You know, the one you were robbing?"
"I'll be fine," said Fili, waving a paw. "I was hiding in a closet. I only used the damned thing because I heard the guards searching the house. I'll be able to slip away now."
"Uh, great," said Rob. "Actually, I'm pretty sure there's a way to request an early return. I just need to find the customer support number."
"Ah, don't trouble yourself," said Fili. "So long as my clothes are clean and dry when my time comes." She gave him a look. "Are ye certain that contraption will be done soon? Launderin' takes a good day where I come from."
"I'll check on the dryer in a few minutes; it might already be finished," said Rob. He coughed. "Um, I heard you singing in the shower."
"So ye did," said Fili.
"You're...really good."
"I used to sing for bits on the streets when I was a kit," said Fili, shrugging. "Folk would compliment me but I didn't make nearly enough to make ends meet. It's why I turned to filching. And sometimes I sing for the mistress."
Rob took a deep breath.
"I'm...something of a musical type myself," he said. "Not a singer, though."
"A musician, then? What do ye play?"
"Er, it's kind of hard to explain," said Rob. "I'm more of a composer, but...well." He decided to jump right to the point. "Look, can I record you singing something?"
"Record?"
"Oh, right. Um, it's like...kind of like the same way someone can draw a picture of something, only with sound. I record you singing and I can listen to it whenever I want."
Fili eyed him apprehensively.
"Will it hurt me? Rob me of my voice or anything like that?"
"What? No! It just...copies sounds."
"Ah, why not," said Fili. "Ye been kind enough. The shower was lovely and once you get over th' sweetness, that Sprite stuff ain't half bad." Her eyes narrowed. "Course, ye got to see me out of my skivvies, but I'll do this recordin' and we'll call it even."
Awkward silence followed.
"These ears aren't just for show, ye know."
"It was an-" blurted Rob.
"Accident, maybe it was," interrupted Fili, raising a paw. "But if it happens again, accident or no, I'll yank yer unmentionables out and stuff 'em down your throat. Understand?"
"Er, yes."
"Good. So, how does this work?"
"Uh, hang on," said Rob, turning to his computer. He turned on Pro Tools and tilted a somewhat dusty Yeti microphone in her direction. "Okay, whenever you're ready just sing into that."
Fili nodded and took a deep breath.
* * *
Rob clicked the reload button on the browser. After a short delay SoundCloud reloaded and, sure enough, there were already another thirty or so unique listens. It had only been a few seconds.
"Holy crap," he muttered.
He checked on his YouTube account and while there weren't quite as many views, there was a substantial increase in his traffic - he was actually getting ad revenue. He clicked the play button.
It was the song he had been working on that fateful evening he'd downloaded Mythic Matches. Only he had mixed Fili's vocals in. It sounded good - damn good. It reminded Rob of Skrillix's Summit even though it hadn't been the original inspiration. Rob had done all of the composition and had heard it hundreds and hundreds of times and still wasn't sick of it. Listening to it was like eating chips; you couldn't stop.
Still listening, Rob opened the Mythic Matches app. He selected Fili's portrait.
'hi Fili. This is Rob. get back to me as soon as you can. i have a proposition for you...'
Rob hesitated as he thought back to their encounter and added an addendum.
'...It has nothing to do with showers.'
