04 Zoe vs The Outfit.

Zoe leaned against the back wall of the elevator, eyes half-closed as it hummed downward. 

She was barely paying attention, just waiting to reach the ground floor.

She rubbed her neck absentmindedly, wondering why mornings, even late ones, always had to feel this bad. 

It wasn't even that early, but the day already felt too long.

She caught her reflection in the metal doors, the loose strands of her wild hair framing her tired face. 

'Just get through this,' she thought, stifling a yawn.

As the doors opened on the first floor, she went to step out, until something tugged sharply at her neck.

Her hair.

She winced and groaned, realizing the tangled mess had gotten caught in the elevator doors.

'Of course,' she thought bitterly.

Muttering curses under her breath, she yanked it free and stabbed the button for the sixth floor instead.

"No way I'm dealing with a Shard looking like this," she grumbled.

The elevator dinged, and Zoe stepped out, heading down the hall to Sandy's apartment. 

She knocked, then pulled out a crumpled twenty from her hoodie pocket.

The door opened almost immediately, revealing Sandy's familiar grin.

"Zoe! Hair emergency?"

Zoe raised the crumpled bill in response.

"Fix this mess, and I'll be out of your hair." She forced a half-smile, but her tone was more pleading than joking.

Sandy chuckled, waving her inside.

"You know I love doing this."

Before Zoe could even sit down, Loki, the tabby cat, let out a massive, almost theatrical meow. 

He padded over, rubbing against Zoe's legs as if welcoming an old friend.

"Hey, Loki," Zoe muttered, crouching slightly to give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Loki purred loudly, his tail flicking back and forth as if he had been waiting for her all day.

The cat immediately hopped into her lap as soon as she sank into the kitchen chair, pawing at her hand with a soft but insistent tap.

"Alright, alright," Zoe sighed, giving in and scratching under his chin.

"You've got me. Happy now?" She felt her mood soften just a little, as Loki settled in, content.

Sandy got to work, carefully brushing and pulling Zoe's hair back into its usual tight bun.

"This is what you get for not keeping it up," Sandy teased, expertly weaving the strands into place. "You'd think you'd have learned by now."

Zoe huffed softly.

"I did. I just... forget sometimes." Zoe's hand still idly scratched Loki's fur as Sandy worked.

Her eyes wandered around the apartment, landing on a brightly colored jingle ball in the corner. 

It was well-used, covered in tiny scratches and nicks.

"What's with the jingle ball?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sandy chuckled. "Loki and I are kitten-sitting for the neighbor. The little guy's a handful, but Loki's surprisingly good with him. Been keeping the kid entertained all day."

"Sounds like you're running a kitty daycare here," Zoe smirked.

"Pretty much," Sandy said with a shrug. "Still waiting to hear back from a couple of job apps, so I've got time. Figured I'd help out."

Zoe nodded. "Hope something comes through soon."

"Thanks. Me too," Sandy replied, her hands moving deftly through Zoe's hair. "But hey, at least I get to hang out with Loki and practice my hairstyling skills. Could be worse."

The familiar routine settled in, a small slice of normal before whatever chaos lay ahead. 

Sandy took her time, clearly enjoying the moment, while Zoe sat in comfortable silence, with Loki soaking up all the attention.

"All done," Sandy finally said, stepping back to admire her work. "Good as new."

Zoe glanced in the hallway mirror. The bun was perfect, secure, neat, and out of the way.

"Thanks," she muttered, standing up. "I owe you one."

Sandy smiled, waving it off. "You know I've got your back."

Zoe stepped out of Sandy's apartment, her hair finally up in its usual bun. 

She always kept it long because it was easier, and good for cosplay.

The afternoon heat hit her as soon as she stepped outside. 

It was mid-July, and even though there had been rain earlier in the morning, the day had gotten hot and sticky.

She crossed the parking lot, stepping around puddles left behind by the rain. 

Her eyes went straight to her '76 Dodge Duster.

The car looked beat-up on the outside, rusty and worn, but Zoe knew it still ran perfectly.

She liked that about it, how it looked rough, but had strength underneath.

Zoe got into the driver's seat and turned the key. 

The engine came to life with its usual smooth rumble. The sound of it filled the quiet parking lot. 

She pulled out and headed down Buckeye towards West Market Street.

As she crossed the bridge over the Mahoning River, she glanced at the water. 

It was still muddy from the rain. 

She followed the river for a little while, but soon the road turned, leading her away from the water and out of downtown.

She was on her way to Packard Park.

The fog from the morning had mostly cleared, but the air still felt heavy. 

Zoe didn't mind. 

The drive, the hum of the engine, and the quiet afternoon, it was a moment of peace before whatever was coming next.

Zoe pulled up in the Duster, parking it in one of the last open spots near the police barricades inside the Community skills parking lot on the corner of Hall and Mahoning.

Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the windows, casting strange patterns on the empty streets. 

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel for a second longer than usual. 

She already regretted leaving the apartment.

She stepped out, her sneakers squishing slightly on the damp pavement from the morning rain. 

Two Warren cops approached as she slammed the car door behind her.

"Sorry, ma'am. No civilians beyond this point," one of the officers said, holding up a hand. 

He was tall, built like he'd seen some action, but his tone was more curious than harsh.

Zoe sighed, not in the mood. "I'm not a civilian. I'm here for the Shard thing."

The officer gave her a quick once-over, his skeptical gaze lingering on her hoodie, pajama pants, and sneakers.

"You don't exactly look like a threadweaver," he said, amused.

Zoe waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I don't look the part."

She gestured vaguely at the floating message box only she could see, hovering just at her peripheral. "Look, I got this dumb box telling me I have to be here. See?"

The officer stared blankly at where she pointed. "Uh, lady, I don't see anything."

"Of course you don't," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The box had already shifted, showing her an equipment list she had hoped to avoid.

A bright yellow robe, a ridiculous pointy hat with feathers sticking out like a bird's butt, bracers, and the ugliest staff she'd ever seen. 

It screamed low-level-noob gear. Zoe grimaced at the screen.

"Do I really have to wear this?" she muttered.

The floating message box flashed a reply: [Affirmative. It is standard gear for your class.]

Zoe groaned. "Of course it is, bracket brain."

She tapped the items on the screen reluctantly. 

A weird tingle ran over her body as her comfy hoodie and pajama pants vanished, replaced by the blinding yellow robe. 

The bird-butt hat slumped over her forehead, feathers sticking out awkwardly behind her like a certain famous big yellow bird she couldn't legally name but absolutely wanted to punch.

"This is a disaster," Zoe muttered, adjusting the floppy hat as it slid further over her eyes. "I look like a reject from a kid's show. This thing's worse than the Banana Disaster."

The officer tried, really tried, but a snort of laughter escaped before he could stop it. 

He quickly cleared his throat, but it was too late.

Zoe shot him her infamous evil eye, the one that had silenced entire guild chats. 

His grin slipped a notch as he fought to keep a straight face.

Still, he gave her an appraising look. "Okay, now you're starting to look the part. What's the plan? Gonna level up on some of those monsters around the Shard before taking it on?"

Zoe pulled the brim of the hat up and shot him a glare. "I hope to god I don't run into anyone who knows I'm Zoeshon. I'll never live this down."

The robe and hat combo brought back memories she'd rather forget, especially the infamous "banana incident."

Bananas.

Zoe shuddered, remembering how a guild member named Bananas had refused to change their avatar. 

She hated bananas with a passion, probably because of that severe allergy. 

When Bananas refused, it escalated, turning into a full-blown argument. 

He reported her, and the entire guild chat had exploded with laughter. 

Her fan club, fiercely loyal, ran Bananas, and later a player named Cherries, out of the game.

Zoe sighed, staring down at the robe she now mentally dubbed "The Banana Disaster."

And then there was the bird butt hat. 

She adjusted it again, trying not to rip it off right there. 

But the system wouldn't let her unequip anything.

"Figures," she muttered. "This thing is a menace."

As she walked toward the barricade, the robe swished awkwardly around her legs, the bright yellow fabric catching every bit of light in the afternoon sun. 

It was impossible to miss.

The officer waved her through with a smirk. "Good luck, threadweaver."

Zoe gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up as she shuffled past.

She felt utterly ridiculous in the getup, silently wishing it was someone else stuck wearing this eye-watering disaster instead of her. 

The whole situation was absurd enough to almost be funny, if it wasn't her looking like a rejected character from a bad game.Zoe leaned against the back wall of the elevator, eyes half-closed as it hummed downward. 

She was barely paying attention, just waiting to reach the ground floor.

She rubbed her neck absentmindedly, wondering why mornings, even late ones, always had to feel this bad. 

It wasn't even that early, but the day already felt too long.

She caught her reflection in the metal doors, the loose strands of her wild hair framing her tired face. 

'Just get through this,' she thought, stifling a yawn.

As the doors opened on the first floor, she went to step out, until something tugged sharply at her neck.

Her hair.

She winced and groaned, realizing the tangled mess had gotten caught in the elevator doors.

'Of course,' she thought bitterly.

Muttering curses under her breath, she yanked it free and stabbed the button for the sixth floor instead.

"No way I'm dealing with a Shard looking like this," she grumbled.

The elevator dinged, and Zoe stepped out, heading down the hall to Sandy's apartment. 

She knocked, then pulled out a crumpled twenty from her hoodie pocket.

The door opened almost immediately, revealing Sandy's familiar grin.

"Zoe! Hair emergency?"

Zoe raised the crumpled bill in response.

"Fix this mess, and I'll be out of your hair." She forced a half-smile, but her tone was more pleading than joking.

Sandy chuckled, waving her inside.

"You know I love doing this."

Before Zoe could even sit down, Loki, the tabby cat, let out a massive, almost theatrical meow. 

He padded over, rubbing against Zoe's legs as if welcoming an old friend.

"Hey, Loki," Zoe muttered, crouching slightly to give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Loki purred loudly, his tail flicking back and forth as if he had been waiting for her all day.

The cat immediately hopped into her lap as soon as she sank into the kitchen chair, pawing at her hand with a soft but insistent tap.

"Alright, alright," Zoe sighed, giving in and scratching under his chin.

"You've got me. Happy now?" She felt her mood soften just a little, as Loki settled in, content.

Sandy got to work, carefully brushing and pulling Zoe's hair back into its usual tight bun.

"This is what you get for not keeping it up," Sandy teased, expertly weaving the strands into place. "You'd think you'd have learned by now."

Zoe huffed softly.

"I did. I just... forget sometimes." Zoe's hand still idly scratched Loki's fur as Sandy worked.

Her eyes wandered around the apartment, landing on a brightly colored jingle ball in the corner. 

It was well-used, covered in tiny scratches and nicks.

"What's with the jingle ball?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sandy chuckled. "Loki and I are kitten-sitting for the neighbor. The little guy's a handful, but Loki's surprisingly good with him. Been keeping the kid entertained all day."

"Sounds like you're running a kitty daycare here," Zoe smirked.

"Pretty much," Sandy said with a shrug. "Still waiting to hear back from a couple of job apps, so I've got time. Figured I'd help out."

Zoe nodded. "Hope something comes through soon."

"Thanks. Me too," Sandy replied, her hands moving deftly through Zoe's hair. "But hey, at least I get to hang out with Loki and practice my hairstyling skills. Could be worse."

The familiar routine settled in, a small slice of normal before whatever chaos lay ahead. 

Sandy took her time, clearly enjoying the moment, while Zoe sat in comfortable silence, with Loki soaking up all the attention.

"All done," Sandy finally said, stepping back to admire her work. "Good as new."

Zoe glanced in the hallway mirror. The bun was perfect, secure, neat, and out of the way.

"Thanks," she muttered, standing up. "I owe you one."

Sandy smiled, waving it off. "You know I've got your back."

Zoe stepped out of Sandy's apartment, her hair finally up in its usual bun. 

She always kept it long because it was easier, and good for cosplay.

The afternoon heat hit her as soon as she stepped outside. 

It was mid-July, and even though there had been rain earlier in the morning, the day had gotten hot and sticky.

She crossed the parking lot, stepping around puddles left behind by the rain. 

Her eyes went straight to her '76 Dodge Duster.

The car looked beat-up on the outside, rusty and worn, but Zoe knew it still ran perfectly.

She liked that about it, how it looked rough, but had strength underneath.

Zoe got into the driver's seat and turned the key. 

The engine came to life with its usual smooth rumble. The sound of it filled the quiet parking lot. 

She pulled out and headed down Buckeye towards West Market Street.

As she crossed the bridge over the Mahoning River, she glanced at the water. 

It was still muddy from the rain. 

She followed the river for a little while, but soon the road turned, leading her away from the water and out of downtown.

She was on her way to Packard Park.

The fog from the morning had mostly cleared, but the air still felt heavy. 

Zoe didn't mind. 

The drive, the hum of the engine, and the quiet afternoon, it was a moment of peace before whatever was coming next.

Zoe pulled up in the Duster, parking it in one of the last open spots near the police barricades inside the Community skills parking lot on the corner of Hall and Mahoning.

Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the windows, casting strange patterns on the empty streets. 

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel for a second longer than usual. 

She already regretted leaving the apartment.

She stepped out, her sneakers squishing slightly on the damp pavement from the morning rain. 

Two Warren cops approached as she slammed the car door behind her.

"Sorry, ma'am. No civilians beyond this point," one of the officers said, holding up a hand. 

He was tall, built like he'd seen some action, but his tone was more curious than harsh.

Zoe sighed, not in the mood. "I'm not a civilian. I'm here for the Shard thing."

The officer gave her a quick once-over, his skeptical gaze lingering on her hoodie, pajama pants, and sneakers.

"You don't exactly look like a threadweaver," he said, amused.

Zoe waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I don't look the part."

She gestured vaguely at the floating message box only she could see, hovering just at her peripheral. "Look, I got this dumb box telling me I have to be here. See?"

The officer stared blankly at where she pointed. "Uh, lady, I don't see anything."

"Of course you don't," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The box had already shifted, showing her an equipment list she had hoped to avoid.

A bright yellow robe, a ridiculous pointy hat with feathers sticking out like a bird's butt, bracers, and the ugliest staff she'd ever seen. 

It screamed low-level-noob gear. Zoe grimaced at the screen.

"Do I really have to wear this?" she muttered.

The floating message box flashed a reply: [Affirmative. It is standard gear for your class.]

Zoe groaned.

"Of course it is, bracket brain."

She tapped the items on the screen reluctantly. 

A weird tingle ran over her body as her comfy hoodie and pajama pants vanished, replaced by the blinding yellow robe. 

The bird-butt hat slumped over her forehead, feathers sticking out awkwardly behind her like a certain famous big yellow bird she couldn't legally name but absolutely wanted to punch.

"This is a disaster," Zoe muttered, adjusting the floppy hat as it slid further over her eyes. "I look like a reject from a kid's show. This thing's worse than the Banana Disaster."

The officer tried, really tried, but a snort of laughter escaped before he could stop it. 

He quickly cleared his throat, but it was too late.

Zoe shot him her infamous evil eye, the one that had silenced entire guild chats. 

His grin slipped a notch as he fought to keep a straight face.

Still, he gave her an appraising look. "Okay, now you're starting to look the part. What's the plan? Gonna level up on some of those monsters around the Shard before taking it on?"

Zoe pulled the brim of the hat up and shot him a glare. "I hope to god I don't run into anyone who knows I'm Zoeshon. I'll never live this down."

The robe and hat combo brought back memories she'd rather forget, especially the infamous "banana incident."

Bananas.

Zoe shuddered, remembering how a guild member named Bananas had refused to change their avatar. 

She hated bananas with a passion, probably because of that severe allergy. 

When Bananas refused, it escalated, turning into a full-blown argument. 

He reported her, and the entire guild chat had exploded with laughter. 

Her fan club, fiercely loyal, ran Bananas, and later a player named Cherries, out of the game.

Zoe sighed, staring down at the robe she now mentally dubbed "The Banana Disaster."

And then there was the bird butt hat. 

She adjusted it again, trying not to rip it off right there. 

But the system wouldn't let her unequip anything.

"Figures," she muttered. "This thing is a menace."

As she walked toward the barricade, the robe swished awkwardly around her legs, the bright yellow fabric catching every bit of light in the afternoon sun. 

It was impossible to miss.

The officer waved her through with a smirk. "Good luck, threadweaver."

Zoe gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up as she shuffled past.

She felt utterly ridiculous in the getup, silently wishing it was someone else stuck wearing this eye-watering disaster instead of her. 

The whole situation was absurd enough to almost be funny, if it wasn't her looking like a rejected character from a bad game.