carl@fire

"And so, as you've seen, I've cut off quite a lot of them," Emma said, gesturing to the small pile near her with a hint of pride in her voice. "Truly I'd found it difficult to stop once I'd begun, as though I'd become some instrument of vengeance with no capacity for reason or restraint."

Ir'alith had gradually returned to a more normal shape over the course of the story's telling, with most of the change occurring as Emma narrated the precise details of the latter parts of the hours-long endeavor. Her skin was still more red than blue, but she sat cross-legged on the ground with her eyes closed, and her tail waved lazily in the air behind her. "Did he beg for his death?" she asked, the first words she'd spoken since the story's commencement.

"Oh my, yes!" Emma said as her her grin widened. "At first I'd thought it quite irritating, but then, well, when I'd considered the plight of my sister—as well as yours, naturally—it became much more pleasant."

Drake took a deep breath. Well, that's definitely the most fucked up thing I've ever done, but considering how fucked up Ir'alith is from it, I'm not even sure it was enough. If that was a god power thing that got used on her, and they can manipulate time like that… He shook his head. "Yeah, it felt great," he said as he recalled how disturbingly good it had felt. Shit, I'm really fucked up, aren't I.

"I allowed Mister Storm the enjoyment of wresting his head from his torso at the very end as a token of my thanks for the knife he'd lent me," Emma said in a loud whisper like she was telling a secret.

Ir'alith's eyes fluttered open, and they were once again a bright green in the iris. She looked back and forth between them, then at the pile of gore in front of her, staring at it for a short while. "I thank you, Drake Storm," she said, fixing him with a sincere gaze. She turned her head. "I thank you as well, Emma."

"I told you I'd make it up to you before," Drake said.

"I…" Ir'alith's tail waved, and her skin at last returned to its usual blue. "I regret that I did not believe your words, Drake Storm. It is my good fortune to have met you."

He grinned. That feels pretty good.

"Have you long until your next match?" Emma asked. "Perhaps you'd care to join us for a meal, though naturally we've a need to clean ourselves…"

Ir'alith had raised a hand, and the piles of gore burned instantly into nothingness at the same time that blood began to stream away from both of them at an increasing speed towards her outstretched finger. A big, dark red ball formed in the air, and she cast it aside once the flow tapered off at which time it, too, flared and burned away. "This is a trivial matter, but I hope it can begin to repay my debt," she said slowly. "Emma, I apologize for my actions when last we met. Though you sought healing that I had promised, I dealt you grievous injuries. My debt to you is the greater for this act."

"I've no desire to be owed a debt from you, Ir'alith," Emma said as she swept her blood-free hair back behind her shoulders. "If you've a true insistence on the matter, however, then…" She frowned. "If possible, I'd request that you grant sanctuary within your lands to me or my sister, Isemeine, should we ever require it."

"Granted," Ir'alith said with an incline of her head. "Isemeine is already known to me, and I owe her a great debt as well."

"I'd quite like to hear the story of that," Emma said.

The blue woman shook her head, at last rising to her feet. "I would not speak of such a thing, as it is yet another instance of my foolishness. However, I will accept your offer to share a meal, if only to experience that which is provided by a deity."

Emma grasped Drake's arm, and he looked down at her with a questioning gaze. "While it's true you've managed the blood for us," she began, "there was quite a lot of it, and I'd truly feel a great comfort if you'd permit us a short while in which to bathe. Perhaps…" She glanced up at him. "Fifteen minutes?"

Drake blinked when he recognized the look in her eye. Wait, does she mean…

"I will await you at the top of the stairs," Ir'alith said. "I have no further fights, and I will return home after we have shared this meal."

"You don't…" Drake frowned. "How many fights have you already had?"

"Ten thousand, two hundred eighty seven," she said.

"That's a great deal of fighting!" Emma exclaimed.

Drake stared.

"When weighed against…" Ir'alith's brows drew down. "Perhaps it is enough," she muttered.

"My congratulations to you for the completion of such an incredible number of battles," Emma said. "You've earned a good, long rest, I should think."

"Yes, I will rest for a time when I return," Ir'alith said with a nod. "Now, however, I would clear my thoughts for a short while before leaving this place. We will meet again soon." She waved briefly with her tail, then hopped to the side and disappeared into the starry abyss below.

"Well, we did it," Drake said after a moment, feeling a fresh grin steal across his face.

"You've comported yourself somewhat admirably," Emma said as she began to tug him back towards the stairs.

He allowed himself to be dragged along. "Somewhat?" he repeated.

"The manner by which you subdued him with his own foot was effective and vaguely satisfying, what with the great big cracking sounds, but…" She gave him a sour look. "If you'd thought to dazzle me with your physical prowess, surely you'd have used some manner of hold about the neck, at the least. Much more vigorous and dominant, wouldn't you say?"

He rolled his eyes as they entered the stairwell. "Right, I forgot I should've been trying to impress you. I stopped for a minute or two."

She leaned slightly against him as they ascended. "Mister Storm, if you've ceased your attempts to impress me, would that mean you'd previously begun such attempts? If so—mmf."

Drake leaned down and kissed her, which was the closest thing to banter he could come up with at that moment given how worn out part of him felt. She freed her arm from his and tangled her hand in his hair, pulling him down against her as she brought her left leg up along his side. He scooped her up, and she let out an approving noise, letting her arms lay over his shoulders as he carried her up towards another distraction.

They neared the top of the stairs, and Emma pinched the arm she was holding, glaring up at him.

"I know, I know," Drake said as he smirked down at her gorgeous face. That was fun. She's fun.

"I have only just arrived, but this place is remarkable," Ir'alith called when they stepped into the cafeteria, continuing to stare at the aisles. "I do not recognize anything."

"Yeah, it's got everything I could imagine, at least," Drake said. "Uh, would you mind healing Emma's throat? She…sort of lost her voice."

Ir'alith turned to them, and her brows lowered as she leaned closer. "How did you come to be injured, Emma?" she asked. "It has not been long since we met. Is a human's voice so fragile?"

Drake's smirk grew to a full ten-out-of-ten, and Emma's cheeks grew almost imperceptibly rosy. "You've incurred my wrath," she rasped up at him, her glare intensifying.

He started to laugh, and her kick to his leg only made his chuckles louder.

"Ah, you are lovers," Ir'alith said, opening her mouth in a shark-like grin.

"I've no desire to have any manner of relation with a brute such as this," Emma huffed, her voice now recovered.

"Yes, I have heard such things before," Ir'alith said with a nod. "Will you bear his children, or—"

Emma's eyes bulged, her face turned red, and she let out a cry as she pressed her fingers to the sides of her head. "No, no, no, Ir'alith, you mustn't ask such things of a lady," she said quickly, darting forward to take the taller woman's arm. She started dragging her away towards an aisle. "There's important protocol to observe," she began, determinedly not looking back as her lecturing voice rapidly grew more distant.

Huh. Drake stared after them for a time, finding it nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from the rear of the incredibly tight yoga pants and matching crop top that Emma had somehow procured and then fit herself into while he watched after their most recent shower. He frowned, feeling a sudden, excited sense of warmth in his chest. Really?

He shook his head, then set off in a different direction. Damn, this whole trip has been all kinds of fucked up. In some sense, I suppose Emma's been one of the brightest spots, though I've been wondering what's going on with Igyn and her ladies. That was weird but somehow incredibly relaxing. Other than when Kazuto tagged along. He sighed as he grabbed what he imagined was likely to be the last of the amazing steaks he'd eat here, deciding on a whim to take a second one. Never imagined I'd be brutally torturing and killing a ghost.

What the fuck, Carl. Are you dealing with this kind of weird shit all the time here?

He continued along, circling around through a break in the shelves along part of another aisle that had the alien-meat sandwiches to grab one that he'd eyed a few times which looked vaguely like a heavily-seasoned pastrami. He followed up with a bag of potato chips for the novelty of it, then made for the drinks and grabbed a bottle of what he suspected was some sort of beer, a dwarf with a mining pick on its label.

Returning to the big table, he grabbed some utensils and napkins on his way and then took a seat by himself facing the exit, deciding to put one of the steaks on the seat next to him to conserve space. I think my favorite part of this place is how the food somehow stays in perfect condition as long as I don't touch it. Never gets cold, never gets soggy, it's just…

He bit into the sandwich with a loud crunch, and a spicy sauce that had been hidden in the alien bread flowed into his mouth. Fuck, if only the food wasn't so good. Hard to be mad about anything that's happened when I can eat like this any time I want without having to worry about a diet. Does this body even get fat? Feels like I'm always hungry.

"No, no, you mustn't be too direct, Ir'alith," Emma's voice carried over, growing closer. "You've the need to capture the imagination to some extent, not simply reveal all manner of thought at the outset."

"This seems dishonest," Ir'alith said.

"Perhaps, but dishonesty's a natural occurrence in the course of a romance." Emma clicked around the table first on her heels, sitting across from him, and Ir'alith sat next to her. The incongruity of seeing the blue woman fitting into the picnic table gave him the need to quickly stifle a loud burst of laughter.

"This is a good table," Ir'alith said with a firm nod and a smile as her tail waved behind her. "I cannot sit in chairs unless I shift my tail, and I do not wish to be without my tail."

Huh. Picnic tables. Drake took another bite of the great alien sandwich, trying to ignore the fact that the meat was purple.

"It's quite fortunate indeed then," Emma said. She blew on a veggie-laden spoonful of her vibrant, orange soup, then brought it to her mouth. "Mmm," she moaned quietly, closing her eyes as she chewed.

"You sound pleased with your choice," Ir'alith said. She picked up…

What the hell is with them and chips?

"Yes, it's quite nice," Emma said.

Ir'alith picked up her bag of tortilla chips and carefully poked a hole in it with her claw, holding the bag up and peeking inside the small opening before she enlarged it. "I have become intrigued by the shell of this food. It is not a material with which I am familiar, and it creates a strange noise when touched, perhaps as a deterrent to weaker predators." Her tail waved more eagerly behind her as she stared into the larger hole.

Drake was unable to stifle his laugh this time, and he covered his mouth just in time to avoid spitting his sandwich everywhere. "It's tortilla chips," he said when he'd managed to swallow his food. "They're popular on my world."

She looked up from her inspection, and her tail remained stationary. "Is…" She glanced down at the bag. "Does Carl favor these tortilla chips?" she asked.

"Yeah, Carl likes tortilla chips now and then," he said with a wide grin. That's too cute. Carl, she's terrifying when she's angry, but she's really adorable when she's like this, buddy. I'll give her a little push for you. "Where are you and Carl at anyway?" he asked. "Do you just talk a lot, or do you spend time together, or—"

"We'd been discussing the matter prior to our return, Mister Storm," Emma interjected. "I'd thought the topic too advanced for your capabilities, and so we'd begun discussing our meals."

"I…" Ir'alith grew a little pink. "We do not speak often nor do we visit frequently."

"Ir'alith, I've noticed you happen to change your color at the mention of certain matters," Emma said.

Ir'alith became slightly more pink, and she stared down at the bag of chips.

"It's certainly a pretty shade," Emma continued, "but perhaps you've a method by which you might conceal this? Matters may differ among your people, but among humans, at the least, it's… Perhaps I'd best describe it as counterproductive should you display such obvious hints, as it were." She took up another spoonful of her soup and blew on it.

"Is… Is this also the case with Carl? And your people?" Ir'alith asked, looking up across the table.

"Uh, yeah, probably," Drake said slowly. "Carl's… He's smart, but he's also the kind of smart where he kind of figures he can understand most things on his own, either just by thinking about them or doing research, which means sometimes he gets the wrong idea when it comes to people. And also he sort of gets into a mindset of thinking with a very narrow focus, and anything outside of what he's thinking about he tends to ignore and then come back to later."

"What a peculiar method of organizing one's thoughts," Emma said with a frown. "He's truly able to avoid all manner of distraction and recall such matters at a later time?"

"Yeah, he's got a reasonably good memory," he said with a shrug.

Emma continued frowning as she continued consuming her soup.

"You…are saying he will misunderstand the change in my skin's color," Ir'alith said, having mostly returned to a more regular blue. "Among my people, such a thing is a sign of great affection. I will explain this to him, and—"

"No, you mustn't do that, Ir'alith," Emma said in a tone like she was a schoolteacher correcting an errant pupil. "I've no comprehension as to how your society is capable of existing without some manner of deception, but I'll assure you, this manner of directness and honesty can lead only to further confusion."

Ir'alith looked confused at the statement. "I do not understand. How could a courtship succeed without honesty?"

"I think maybe what she's trying to say," Drake began, "is that you don't wanna go too fast. For example…" He took a quick bite of his sandwich to stall. "Suppose… Suppose someone comes to you and wants to make some kind of deal with your people, okay, and they offer you a deal that's too good. What do you do?"

"I would not trust such a thing without more information," Ir'alith said.

"Right, right, and so courtship is sort of a similar kind of thing," he continued. "You need to introduce everything slowly, because otherwise you're just bringing out this amazing deal—you're the deal in this analogy in case that's not clear—you're suddenly bringing out this great deal without enough information, but then the other person gets suspicious because that's not how deals are supposed to work."

Emma let out a deep sigh and gave him a pitying look. "Truly words are not your strong suit, Mister Storm."

"Seems to be enough for you," he remarked. "Shouldn't a lady have higher standards?"

One corner of her lips twitched. "If you'd judge such so-called compliments as you're ridiculous and you're really something as being enough, then we've considerably more to cover in your lessons than I'd thought."

"I understand," Ir'alith said slowly. "You do not speak of deceit but of revealing my strengths gradually so they may be appreciated in turn."

"Yeah, that's… Yeah, that's it," he said. Probably close enough. I tried, buddy.

"I thank you for this advice, Drake Storm," she said seriously. "I still await Annie's reply, but if—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait," he said, holding a hand up. "Time out. Annie's—as in Carl's wife—reply on what, exactly?"

"I requested her permission to court Carl, as he had stated that he would entertain no courtship without her permission," Ir'alith said. She poked at the bag of chips and withdrew one, turning it over in front of her face as she inspected it carefully. After several seconds, she brought it to her mouth and, just as carefully, bit down with a small crunch.

The time was right, and Drake pulled the cork off the top of his bottle of beer and began to drink. How the fuck did that become a thing. So Annie was here—well, there—and at some point Ir'alith asked… He felt his brain threatening to melt and continued to drink. Damn, this is some good… Not beer exactly, but sort of close.

"Ir'alith, am I to understand you've inquired with the current wife of the man you desire as to whether she'll permit you to court him?" Emma asked, her eyebrows raised in an equal show of surprise.

"Yes," Ir'alith said as she cautiously withdrew another chip. "Initially, she refused my request, and I was…" She bit down on the chip, and her expression brightened as she chewed. "Jungrathol would enjoy these," she muttered as she stared down at the bag in her hand.

"Ir'alith, you've no need to request," Emma said, her eyebrows now lowered into a frown. "You've the strength. Simply dispose of the current wife, and –"

"No, no, definitely no," Drake interrupted, waving his hand furiously. "Definitely don't do that."

Ir'alith frowned at Emma in return. "I would never allow harm to befall Annie. This is not good advice."

Drake sighed in relief. Alright, so at least she understands some things. Still though, tough break that she's got Annie to get through. Of any wife in the world, she's—

"Many days later," Ir'alith continued, "Annie and I spoke again, and she said she would think about it. This was the same day that I agreed to come here."

The bottle nearly slipped from Drake's hand as he stared across the table in stunned silence. What the entire fuck is going on with you, Carl.

"That's quite a good change," Emma said, smiling up at her and nodding.

"Yes, I was pleased," Ir'alith agreed.

Emma reached across the table a moment later and pulled the plate with his steak closer, then began sawing a small piece off the juiciest-looking end.

Drake cocked his head as he watched.

"You've eaten a number of these great, burly things, and I've acquired a curiosity as to why," Emma said just before she popped it into her mouth. She moaned a little as she chewed.

"And now you see why," he said with a slight smirk.

"You've some small proficiency in selecting meals, Mister Storm," she said as she stared at the rest of the steak.

"May I taste this food?" Ir'alith asked, also eyeing the steak.

With a small sigh that he used to restrain his underlying grin, he pushed the plate with the steak across the table. "Go ahead," he said, looking first to Ir'alith, then leaving his eyes on the blonde woman across from him.

"I thank you for your generosity, Drake Storm," Ir'alith said.

Emma shot him an extremely satisfied smile and began to slice into the end nearest her. "Though it pains me to say this, Mister Storm, it's apparent to me that you've grown during the time…we've…"

Drake brought the second steak up onto the table and cut off a big chunk, nonchalantly stuffing it into his mouth.

"You've ruined my prank once more," Emma complained.

A thin seam came into existence in the steak on the other side of the table, separating off the third nearest to Ir'alith, and she grasped it between two clawed fingers to bring it up to her mouth, at which point she bit half of it off and began to chew. After a moment, she made an enthusiastic sound and nodded her head.

"Ir'alith, what would you say to learning to use tableware?" Emma asked as she watched the other woman devour the last of her hunk of steak with a look like she'd just witnessed something incredibly disgusting.

"I…" Ir'alith frowned. "If it is a simple skill to learn, then I would not refuse, as all skills may become useful in time."

"It's quite simple indeed, and I'll be incredibly thankful if you'll not display such a manner of consuming food to me again in exchange…"