carl@fire

A throat clearing noisily brought Drake out of his stupor, and he turned his head.

"You've climaxed from a mere kiss?" Emma said as she looked at his crotch with one brow arched.

He looked down, now feeling as well as seeing the noticeable wet spot on his pants as he worked to steady his breathing. "Uh…" Fuck, that was a hell of a kiss. But how… "Well—"

"Mister Storm, please do attempt to maintain some semblance of restraint," she said in a patronizing tone. "I'm aware of what a challenge it must be to remain in my presence for any length of time without feeling the need to discharge your weapon, as it were, but it's quite unseemly to have done so in public like some manner of beast. And without my consent?" She tutted, pressing a finger along her cheek as she shook her head at him.

He regained his feet with some discomfort while she spoke. "I didn't think you'd get so jealous," he managed with a shrug before turning to the aisles of food and walking with eight-out-of-ten determination towards some of the closer things he felt like eating, pleasurable aftershocks assailing him with each step. Must be some kind of electrical thing. Like she's shocking my brain in exactly the right way or something. Really… Bad timing. Not cool, Vol.

"Jealous? What've I to be jealous of, Mister Storm?" she said as she walked swiftly to catch up, then continued strutting along with a notable bounce to her tightly-covered hips a couple steps in front of him. "Perhaps it's simply you've a wish for me to be jealous, is that it?" She glanced over her shoulder and smirked teasingly at him. "Shall I play the part for you? A small reward for helping to accomplish my goal?"

"If you want," he said with eight-out-of-ten feigned disinterest, his eyes sliding down along the back of her form-fitting red dress as his thoughts wandered. I still can't believe she's my age. It's not fair. Otherworld time is bullshit.

"Well I've no desire to behave in such a trite manner," she said as she crossed to the other side of the aisle to snatch a plate with a nine-out-of-ten-looking meat-topped salad. "Perhaps then you'd come to regard me as having fallen to the level of some simpering, weak-willed woman who's no thoughts to call her own."

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," he said, eyeing some stir fry-like dish a short ways away.

"Mister Storm, I'll thank you to refrain from making snide remarks unless you've managed to keep from indiscriminately sullying your trousers for at least a short while," Emma called.

Drake snorted a laugh and continued to chuckle as he grabbed two of the heaping, noodle-based stir fry dishes before starting back. "Are you gonna be on like this all the time?" he asked as he passed the position where she was waiting.

She began walking alongside him with her lips curved into a slight smirk. "I'll behave as I choose. You've no need to concern yourself with such things." Her steps increased in their speed, and she collected two sets of silverware as well as a number of napkins from the shelves near the seating area.

"Well, changing topics a bit," he said as he approached the table, "we did… What are you doing?"

Emma had set her plate and silverware on the far side of the table ahead of him and come around with some of the napkins as he neared, at which point she'd knelt down and smoothly tugged his pants down around his ankles. "Naturally, as the leader of our group, it falls to me to ensure some manner of discipline be enforced with regards to hygiene," she said as she began to wipe at him with a napkin. "Ooh, you've been a very vigorous boy, haven't you," she said in a somewhat babying way.

He started to laugh again from the absurdity of her actions and her tone, neither of which he'd been expecting. "Right, yeah, obviously. Should've thought of that."

She finished her task and tugged again at the waistband of the pants that were now pooled around his ankles until he stepped out of them. "You'll need to remain in this state until we've the time to properly give you a wash," she said as she tucked the napkins she'd used into the pants, balled them up, and tossed them away. "It's fortunate our patron is quite fastidious regarding such matters in this castle of his." She stood up and clicked on her heels around to the other side of the table, not sparing his pants-less state a second glance.

Without hesitation, Drake set his plates on one side of the table, opened his inventory and grabbed another pair of pants, then pulled them on and sat down. "Thanks," he said with eleven-out-of-ten nonchalance.

She frowned across the table at him. "You've ruined my prank," she huffed.

"We can do pranks later," he said. "Gotta finish…" He stood back up and made for the aisle of drinks to grab a pitcher of water. "Gotta finish other things first," he called.

"Please, you've nearly eight entire hours remaining," she retorted. "We've ample time for such entertainment. And was it not incredibly simple to solve this matter of aborting the creation of a new deity?"

"Yeah, it was really easy," he said on his way to grab a pair of drinking glasses. "Weirdly easy, even," he said as his brows drew down. Sateus said it like it was something that was a done deal, but it was almost trivially easy to bring her back. And now that I think of it, if she's stuck on Earth now, and time's stopped, can she even come back to the competition here? Well, whatever. That's one fuck-you to a god's plans, even if it was an easy success.

"I've no desire to boast, Mister Storm, but is it not natural for all manner of task to become facile if we've an individual with my capabilities at our helm?" Emma asked with a small smile once she'd finished chewing. She looked down at her salad in amazement. "This is marvelous," she murmured.

"Good salad?" he asked, setting the pitcher and glasses on the table before pouring each of them a reasonable amount of water.

"As it's the first I've truly been capable of tasting, it's quite delectable indeed," she said, her face brightening into a beautiful smile. She picked up her glass and raised it. "My thanks once again," she said while looking into his eyes.

He raised his own glass and smiled a little. "Glad you're better," he said. It's weird, but this whole thing seems more…comfortable with her here. Even if she's pretty ridiculous.

They clinked their glasses and drank, then each took a bite of their meals.

"I've the genuine anxiety I may decide to remain in this place and gorge myself for all time," Emma said after several more bites. She shot him a serious look across the table. "Mister Storm, I'll be relying on that formidable desire of yours to prevent such a thing, even if it requires that you steal me away back to your quarters to have your wicked way with me."

"Will do," he said, giving her an amused grin. "But you did say you'd help with everything, and I'm not done yet."

"Present me with our next task, then," she said with a wave of her fork. She bit into a slice of chicken-like meat with granules of a dark spice visible on it and closed her eyes as she moaned softly.

"You really couldn't taste stuff before?" he asked. It's sort of weirdly exciting watching her try all this stuff for the first time.

"Certainly not to this extent," she said, already slicing off another piece. "Were I less capable, I imagine I'd become overwhelmed by all manner of sensations."

"Yeah, maybe loose your restraint too, huh," he said as he stared down at his meal.

"If I've recalled it properly—as I assure you I've the penchant for doing—I'd granted you a reprieve after inspiring you to rise for a seventh occasion." She took a sip of her water and raised an eyebrow as she looked across the table at him with a vaguely disappointed expression. "We'd not even made it to ten or, far more reasonably, an even dozen. Truly I've been the absolute model of restraint when considered using the proper perspective."

"I can't imagine either of us surviving to ten," Drake muttered. He speared another big clump of his alien stir fry and brought it to his mouth. Shit, Sateus is an asshole, but this food really is amazing.

"Now, now, you've no need for stroppiness," Emma said, taking special care with her enunciation of the final word. "On the topic of restraint, however, I'll thank you for yours, as those stats you've displayed seemed quite formidable. For an individual in possession of so-called Divine Strength, you've considerable control over those bulging muscles of yours."

"Can't have you getting injured after I worked so hard to get you healed," he said. "That's sort of related to the other big thing I need to do though."

"Oh?" She paused midway through reaching across the table to stab a piece of meat on his second big stir fry plate to look up at him, then slowly resumed her theft.

"Ir'alith's sort of going crazy, and I need to fix her," he said. Now let's see what she says to that, because I'm stumped at the moment.

"Ah, yes," Emma said. She brought her fork to her mouth, and her eyes widened in excitement as she chewed. "Oh my, this is…" She reached out and stuck some sort of red, pepper-like vegetable on his plate and popped it into her mouth, pressing her lips tightly together for a moment after she began chewing. "It's so zesty!" she said when she'd finished. "My entire mouth feels as though it's been set ablaze!"

"Yeah, it's a little spicy," he agreed.

She took a longer sip of her water. "Perhaps I'll settle myself more gently into the realm of spicy foods at another time." She took a second sip. "Returning, however, to the matter of Ir'alith, perhaps you'd not mind describing to me the manner by which you've become acquainted with her? I've a need for more information on the matter before I'll be capable of steering us towards a resolution."

"Well," Drake began. He tapped his finger lightly on his fork as he considered it. I trust her a bit, weird as it is to think after she actually tried to kill me, but not really enough to tell her other peoples' secrets yet. Which means… "We came here together, and she and Vol helped me train for my battles. She's… I don't know if I'd say she's…" He frowned as his thoughts turned in a new direction. "I don't actually know who's stronger between her and Vol, though I can't imagine anyone being stronger than whatever those stats were?" he said as he thought out loud.

"The brief moments I'd seen of their battle seemed quite calamitous," Emma said, returning to her salad.

"You were scared, if I recall," he remarked.

Her small smile turned to a small smirk as she chewed. "I've no conception of fear, Mister Storm. I'd begun my seduction of you at the moment we arrived in this place."

"You were really set on that plan, huh," he said.

She shrugged with her eyebrows. "I'd simply thought to make the most efficacious use of my available resources at the time."

He paused in his eating and stared across the table. "You really see people like that?"

"Do you not?" she asked, returning his gaze with a pensive lowering of her eyebrows. "You've never regarded another as a tool to be used for your own benefit, even for a moment? Not once spoken falsehoods with the intent to profit from the act?"

She's sort of got me there. He finished off the last of his first plate while he thought in order to give himself more time, sliding the second around in front of himself afterwards. "Do you think like that all the time?" he asked, meeting her eyes once more.

Her smirk returned, growing larger in the process. "Perhaps it's best if I provide the answer to an entirely separate inquiry, Mister Storm," she said with a smile in her tone. "Were I to possess some manner of esteem for an individual, perhaps holding some slight affection for such a person—though it could only ever be the most inconsequential amount, hardly more than nothing at all, I'd imagine—certainly I'd never speak of such a thing, as words remain the simplest tools with which to deceive and manipulate."

She poked at her salad slowly, collecting the few remaining remnants with her fork. "No, rather, I'd imagine it might manifest itself with great subtlety, as the most significant actions of a lady must. Perhaps I'd provide some small manner of reassurance to such an individual if they seemed liable to topple. If they appeared wrapped in their thoughts to an unhealthy extent, I'd wager I might engage them in conversation to coax them back to the mundane. I might even be persuaded to assist with various trivial endeavors if such a person seemed too helpless to accomplish any manner of task by their own efforts."

He took a long blink at her as an odd feeling stole over him. She's…saying she really likes me?