Rimelion: The Exploiter

What... is this?

As I glanced around the room, I was speechless. My brain scrambled to catch up with what I was seeing. There, standing proudly on a mannequin, was a dress. But not just any dress.

My dress.

The one the wish spell had created.

"How... is this possible?" I asked as I moved toward the dress, the soft click of my heels on the polished floor the only sound in the room.

I really do like high heels now, do I?

The fabric shimmered under the warm light, its icy blue silk catching every glimmer as if it had been plucked straight from the depths of a frost-covered sovereign cave. The embroidery mirrored the dress patterns I remembered.

Lola scurried behind me, her holo-tablet clutched in both hands as she glanced down at its glowing screen. "Let me see..." she muttered, scrolling furiously as I reached out to touch the dress.

My fingers brushed against the fabric, and I let out a relieved breath. It felt... different. More fake and less magical than the one in-game.

This is the reality; game is just that. A game.

The bodice was soft yet structured, and the skirt—well, it wasn't really a skirt. It was one of those clever fake ones, like the ones tennis players wear, blending functionality with elegance.

I really need to learn the right terms for clothes, I thought, rolling my eyes at myself. Skorts? Overlays? Whatever. It's gorgeous, and I'd better not trip wearing it.

"It's a custom job, Mister Riker ordered for you yesterday after watching the video of yours," Lola explained, her eyes darting nervously to her tablet. "His note is... uh..." She hesitated, glancing up at me uncertainly.

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on my lips. "Go on," I prompted.

Lola nodded, straightening her posture as if preparing for a performance. In an exaggerated imitation of Riker's over-the-top tone, she recited, "Miss Charlie, you are as dazzling as you are unstoppable. Take this gift, wear it with pride, and show the world the force of nature that you truly are!"

"Ugh..." I groaned, shaking my head as a reluctant giggle escaped. "Now I actually have to try hard," I joked, rolling my eyes. "Alright, fine. I'll wear it. Something else?"

"Yes, Miss Charlie," Lola said, her voice steadying. "What weapon do you want? All of them are dulled, of course, but they can still hurt."

"Lola..." I said with a playful sigh, tilting my head. "Of course I know that." I paused, considering for a moment, before grinning. "You know what? Get me a rapier and a dagger. If they want a show, let's give it to them. But I'll need a shot of whiskey." Sorry, Adam.

Lola nodded, her fingers flying over her tablet as I moved toward the dress. The fabric gleamed under the lights, daring me to try it on. With a deep breath, I began unbuttoning my top.

Why can't it be as easy as in the game?

"Uh... Miss!" Lola squeaked, her cheeks turning a vivid shade of red as she hurriedly averted her gaze. "I... I'll go get the weapons and a drink!"

She bolted from the room, her embarrassment practically trailing behind her like a cloud.

The stockings were a nightmare to get into. Whoever thought adding diamonds—no matter how stupidly beautiful—to fabric that stretches was a good idea clearly never had to actually wear them. Every time I tried to pull them up, a diamond caught, scratched, or otherwise conspired to make my life miserable.