Okay, so Vol isn't an alien-Italian woman, she's some sort of lightning elemental? That's a thing? But she still looks human? Explains that crazy lightning before though. Saves me a question about it too, I suppose. Tim's face was set into a deep frown as he climbed the stairs towards where a god had once told him there would be food. Damn, it kind of felt like we had a moment there. No, no, what am I thinking. This isn't VR, and I'm supposed to try to be some kind of leader. Plus I'd still have had to figure out if she and Carl are a thing anyway, so it's probably good that—

"What? No, Carl and I definitely don't fuck," Vol's loud voice carried out of the room at the top of the stairs down to him. "Not gonna happen. We're platonic friends. Best platonic friends. He's married anyway, and married people are weird about that sort of thing."

Well that answers that question. He started up the stairs again after a few seconds, having stopped to collect himself after the nine-out-of-ten coincidence, which was yet another of the unusually high ratings he'd assessed today. That's impressive too though. Carl, you befriended a lightning elemental. Whatever that is. Not many guys can say they've done that. You're really killing it with the ladies in other worlds, buddy. Feels like every question I get an answer to leaves me with five or ten more at this point. How did you get so close to all these people so fast? And what the hell were you doing here to begin with? At least I'm starting to get the hang of this.

He stamped his feet a little harder as he neared the top of the steps, trying to avoid any awkwardness that his arrival during a conversation might cause. The stairs brought him to another doorway and when he looked beyond it, he was once again amazed and confused by the powers of gods.

The room he peered into had food.

Lots of food.

All of the food.

All the types of food he could imagine, as well as any number of things he'd never seen before, were plated and stacked on shelves that extended in every direction as far as he could see, including upwards. There was nothing holding the gray, stone shelves up, however.

Now this was a solid seven-out-of-ten use of god powers, though he'd had to deduct a few points since it didn't seem like there was any simple way to find the food he wanted.

Nearer the door were a trio of tables, two smaller, round ones, and a longer, rectangular one that was picnic-style. Vol sat on the side of the picnic table closest to the entrance, facing away, and Emma sat opposite, her twelve-point-one face set in a contemplative frown. Vol looked over her shoulder as he walked in. "Oh hey, Storm. Looks like you had lots of fun." She snickered a little before turning back to whatever she was eating.

Tim looked down at himself. Oh. I should've cleaned up a little before I came here. It's like I was rolling around in… I was basically rolling around in dirt, wasn't I. I'd say it's depressing that a dozen years of martial arts training only got me this far, but then again, that many years of once-a-week training did help me punch an inhumanly strong alien-demon once, and I'm also not dead, so…

"Hello again, Mister Storm," Emma said, giving him a shy wave and meeting his eyes for an instant before looking away. "Please, won't you join us?" She slid over to the side of her bench seat.

"Sure," he said. "I'll be back once I grab some plates." So I'm not supposed to trust her, huh? I did hear Carl say that Ir'alith and Vol were his friends, but I don't know anything at all about Emma. He walked by the table, glancing at the seated duo as passed. Damn, they're both gorgeous but in totally different ways. Emma's got this upper class vibe with that accent and poise of hers, not to mention the crazy curves, and Vol's more like…down to earth, I guess would maybe—

"This is so weird," Vol commented as she held something long and meaty-looking off her plate with her fork. "What the fuck is it?"

"I believe it may be some manner of snake," Emma replied.

Tim continued walking, doing some browsing as he went. I wonder how far back it goes.

"Huh," Vol said behind him. "What kind of snake do you think it is?"

"Ideally not the poisonous sort, though I'd not imagine such a thing would affect you."

He grabbed a plate with a large, juicy-looking strip steak from a shelf, and an identical plate with an identical cut of meat appeared in its place, causing him to pause for a moment as the implications settled in. Alright, god powers are awesome for some things. Feels like I could eat an entire cow right now, and this definitely beats a catered lunch. Next on his list was a noodle dish of some kind with a sauce that made his mouth water just from the zesty smell alone.

"You really don't like me, do you," Vol said.

"I've the desire for us to remain amicable for the duration of our stay here," Emma replied.

"Lying," Vol said around a bite of whatever she was chewing.

Tim snagged a tall sandwich with some sort of meat piled high on it and spicy-looking peppers piled even higher. He balanced the three plates on his way back, setting them down one by one in the space that Emma had made for him. A pitcher of something purple was set in the middle of the table, and he started looking around for cups.

"Oh, you've quite the air of exhaustion about you. I'll fetch you a glass, shall I?" Emma said, rising from her seat. Her dress billowed outwards as she leaned forward to free her legs from the bench.

Despite his intentions, both after Ir'alith's warning and from his own policy of not considering workplace subordinates in certain ways, Tim's eyes were riveted to a glimpse of pale cleavage in the moment the blonde woman was rising. Is it a cultural thing not to wear underwear or is it just her?

"How'd your sparring go?" Vol asked.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Tim sat at the table, though it felt a little uncomfortable with his armor on and his continuing aches from trying to fight someone whose idea of restraint still felt roughly equivalent to being hit repeatedly by a freight train. Damn, this hurts way more than taking hits in New Era. Inventory. Inventory: remove armor set two. Dismiss. His new state of being unencumbered and in more casual clothes gave him a sudden sense of relaxation, as though he'd stepped out of the office for the day. "It was interesting," he said, coming to the realization that he hadn't gotten any silverware.

"How'd you do that?" Vol asked, her fork halfway to her mouth as she stared at him.

"Uh… Magic-ish?" he replied. I think if I start trying to explain how the game's inventory works, she'll end up asking me why it works, and I don't have those kinds of answers. Why does it work anyway? Always more questions. Usually I'd have my EA to work on getting me this kind of info, but I don't think Nancy's going to be showing up here any time soon.

"Oh."

"Here you are, Mister Storm," Emma said as she returned. She leaned in behind him and set a napkin, a pair of spoons, a pair of forks, a knife, and a wine glass on the table in front of him. He felt a warm breath on his ear in addition to an unrestrained softness against his back for a moment before her presence disappeared and she retook her seat beside him.

"Thanks," he said as he worked to mentally ignore the distracting sensations. He grabbed the pitcher and poured his glass half full. After taking a gulp, he stopped and made a face. This is wine. Strong, too. Definitely not what I need after a workout like that.

"Here," Vol said. She held her hand up, cupped slightly, and a pitcher of water appeared in it, accompanied by a small boom. She thunked it down on the table, then returned to eating the next of many plates arranged on her side of the table, this one containing a dozen or so round objects which looked very much like eyeballs in some kind of dark sauce.

"Uh, thanks," he said again. Not even going to ask. He looked down at the wine glass in his hand, shrugged, and downed the rest of it before filling it with water and taking a few long pulls. Good wine, but I think I'll need a lot of water after all that time as a punching bag. How does nutrition even work on this body? The first slice of the steak he'd selected was in his mouth moments later, and he sighed in contentment. I don't know how it's still the perfect temperature after sitting on this plate, I don't know how any of this works, and I'm probably just a few bad answers from a total breakdown, but this is the best fucking steak I've ever had.

It was a true ten-out-of-ten meal if he'd ever had one.

"Good?" Vol asked.

"Mm-hmm," Tim replied.

"Mm." Vol popped another eyeball into her mouth and chewed noisily. "These aren't."

"Then why have you continued to eat them?" Emma asked, a look of revulsion twisting her face.

"Huh. Good question," Vol said, staring down at her plate with a frown. The plate and its contents turned to ashes, and she waved her hand, blowing them away off the side of the table before starting in on her next dish, which looked like a hamburger except that the meat part was orange and glowing.

"How is this so good?" Tim marveled as he took another bite of the pasta dish. The sauce was some sort of slightly sweet, slightly salty, spicy, rich concoction that made it difficult to finish chewing before he shoveled another forkful into his mouth. It was so addictive that if he were alone, he might have just tipped the slightly curved plate up to his mouth and scraped it in.

It was another ten-out-of-ten, amazingly enough.

"Sateus is annoying, but he's…" Vol stopped to take a giant bite of her glowing hamburger. "Nah, he can go fuck himself," she said after spending some time chewing in deep concentration. "Food's good though. Lot of new things to try since last time."

"I've noticed this is the second occasion in which you've spoken as though you've been here previously," Emma said. She picked at a vibrant-looking salad, taking a small bite and looking across the table expectantly.

"Mm," Vol said. "Came for a competition thing a few years ago." She took another bite of her burger and chewed. "Was just me then. Wasn't as strong as I am now, but everyone else was weak, so it wasn't hard to win." She popped the rest of the burger into her mouth.

"Wait, you won a competition like this before?" Tim interjected.

The dark-haired woman nodded as she chewed. She took her full glass of wine and brought it to her lips, downing the whole thing in a single gulp before refilling it from the bottomless pitcher. "Ah, that's some good wine," she murmured as she stared down at her glass. "Yeah, I did," she said more loudly, looking across the table again. "There weren't as many…whatever, types of competing that time, so it didn't take long. Just fought a bunch of people, then fucked a bunch of people, and it was done. This whole place looked a lot different though." She looked around. "More statues then. Had some waterfalls of blood too."

"Perhaps I've misheard," Emma began, leaning forward a bit with a disbelieving expression, "but it did sound to me as though you'd engaged in fornication in order to obtain victory?"

Vol shrugged, having tossed her empty plate off to the side and begun to dig into her next course, which was a large, puffy, spike-covered, bright red orb that she was stabbing into with a knife. A yellow, viscous liquid burst out and flowed down onto the plate like egg yolk, bringing with it a dense, pungent scent. "Yeah, it's one of the, uh, types," she said as she continued to work at sawing off a slice of the tough food.

Tim blinked, forgetting to chew his steak for several seconds. "What?" he said. So they have insane, superhuman fighting…and sex?

"Was fun from what I remember," she said, finally managing to wrest free a thick piece of the spiny object. "Not like I was forced to. Sort of weird, but I was sort of a different me back then anyway."

"I've a substantially altered opinion of you at this moment, Miss Scorpion," Emma said. She took a sip of her wine and then arched an eyebrow. "Tell me, does this type still persist within this same competition into which we've entered? And if so, which of us is to be competing in that manner?"

"None of us," Vol said as she turned the dripping, spiny slice of thing she'd cut off around on her fork, eyeing it from every angle. "Sateus said they changed the rules because I was too good last time. Has to be one person for each thing." She looked back over to the blonde woman. "We're all fighting," she said, gesturing with her free hand to herself and Tim. "And you're doing your annoying shit. So Sateus must have someone else for that."

Tim sighed in relief, though he did his best not to let it show. That would just be too weird. Fighting to the death is something I can understand, but… He frowned. How would that even—

"Ah," Emma said. "And while we've begun to speak about this topic, perhaps you'd care to expound upon the details of how such a thing might function? How victory might be attained?" She took another sip of wine, nearing the bottom of her glass.

"Eh." Vol continued to turn the thing on her fork over as she frowned down at it, the inner part of its shell looking somehow even less edible than the outer part. She opened her mouth a little and raised her fork, then reversed the motions, frowning more deeply.

I can't watch this anymore. "Are you…trying to figure out how to eat that?" Tim asked. "Because I think you're supposed to just cut the…"

Vol stuffed the thing on her fork into her mouth, spines and all. She swallowed a couple seconds later, having shown no signs of chewing. "Huh. Weird," she said in a contemplative tone. After a few more seconds, she started hacking another slice off.