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Suited & Booted

Suited & Booted

To the entire group's great relief, the water was, in fact, still running in the house. They took turns ridding themselves of the blood, dirt, and stress of the last few days. While he had been washing up and gathering clothes, Domison had a conversation with Raze. The guide had been silent for so long for a good reason it seemed, he was researching something for a possible advancement, and apparently ‘A slight nudge in the right direction will do more than a guiding hand.’ Domison at least believed the first part, feeling like the latter portion was just due to the little Imp’s stinginess. The only other words of sagely wisdom the Abyssal Courtier had for him were to ensure that he continued cultivating natural Mana every day, reiterating the importance of incorporating it deeper into his body. Raze steadfastly refused to elaborate on what he meant by “deeper”.

Once everyone had their chance to get clean in the surprisingly still functioning shower, he was able to cycle. Ever since connecting with Pabu, his senses had felt more sensitive and this seemed to be true even for his Mana-sense. Domison wasn’t sure if that was actually what it was called, but he just went with it. Whenever he had cycled before, either in his trance-like meditations or his active cycling while he fought, Domison had been able to feel the natural Mana of the world flowing towards him at a higher rate. Now, however, it was like the natural Mana flowing into him had more substance. It was more substantial in his mind’s eye and he could sense different energies coloring it.

Domison continued cycling Mana until early in the morning, sleeping for only two hours before waking up. Though he had slept for so little, his body felt completely refreshed. Now that Domison was thinking about it though, he didn’t seem to need as much sleep anymore. His body had obviously gone through many changes, but it was slightly disconcerting thinking about the chance that he may at some point not need to sleep anymore. Domison shook the thoughts from his mind and donned his prepared clothing. After washing his face and brushing his teeth he left his room.

Domison strode from the room at the end of the hallway that connected to the living room. The blood had been completely washed from his body and even to himself, he looked like a completely different man. His medium-length raven-black hair with deep blue hues was pushed back haphazardly. Thick black cargo pants were choked off at his mid-calf by laced-up black combat boots. He had pulled a cream-white henley shirt over his bare chest and thrown on his favorite jacket. It was a bomber-style jacket with a high collar, and the thread running through the jacket was synthetic, dark purple leather strands. Across the back of the jacket was embossed the symbol of the unit he had been a part of, a crowned skull being caressed by angel wings.

Domison strode out into the living room mid-thought and as soon as he came into sight Coraigen audibly gasped. Mel elbowed the Orcish man in the ribs shortly after his outburst, “Agreed big man. You sure do clean up nice Dom.”

The man beamed a smile and made a coy, shooing motion, Domison chuckled as the large humanoid next to her started nodding profusely at Mel’s words, “They say flattery gets you everywhere, huh?”

Mel pinched her chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she walked over and looked at the man quizzically for a moment. “Hmmmm… The only complaint I have is…” She stared at his face from a short distance away, having taken several steps closer. She snapped suddenly, like what was bothering her had just clicked in her head, “What’s with the villain collar on that jacket?”

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Domison stepped back, throwing a hand to his chest as if wounded, “So rude, and to the man who saved you.” A crooked grin pulled at his cheeks as he lightly flicked her forehead, “No manners on young ladies these days.”

“Nice deflection…” Mel said under her breath as she blew a piece of hair out of her face, hands on her hips. Domison walked past her and clapped a palm on the Urketh’s burly shoulder. He couldn’t have imagined himself being so friendly with the two just days ago, but ever since he found Pabu things had changed. It felt to him almost as if a switch in the back of his mind had flipped and his positive emotions had been unmuted. Mike stirred for the first time since his injury, a loud groan emerging from his lips as he tried to roll onto his side.

Mel rushed over to him, tutting as she flattened him back out onto the floor, “Me-Mel? Is that you?” A dry and strained voice emerged from beneath the injured man’s cracked lips. “Wh-where are we?” He asked another question as his bleary eyes wandered around the apartment, taking in the dingy surroundings. The walls were a peeling sage green and the worn wooden floor he was laying on only added to his aches. His gaze faltered for a moment when his eyes passed over Domison, a slight tightness in his gut at the sight of the man, but he had to hold back a yelp of fear when they landed upon Coraigen. “Wh-wha-what is that?” Mike asked, a death grip on Mel’s wrist at his shoulder as he began to tremble.

She flicked his forehead, sending a little burst of healing energy into him as she did, “THAT is Craig. Be nice, he carried you all the way here.” Mike looked sheepishly back in the Urketh’s direction, tilting his head slightly in deference, “And don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at Dom! He saved us, you ass-munch. He’s gonna be the one to feed you too, so get whatever crazy delusional thoughts you have about him. Out. Of. Your. Head.” She punctuated each word with another healing-infused flick.

Domison chuckled and waved her away from the man, “Leave the guy alone, it’s fine. This doesn’t change things up very much, but it’s good that you’re finally awake Mike. I’d rather you be filled in on the plan instead of waking up confused while we’re gone.” Mike paled slightly at that, as though worried he may be left behind. “Nothing to be worried about,” Domison said waving at the air, “The plan was to have Mel stay back and keep treating your wounds while Craig and I went out scouting the area.”

Mel rolled her eyes, but Domison continued as though he hadn’t seen a thing, “Mike,” The man looked up at Domison, glazed eyes coming into focus. “I’ll tell you the same as the rest, you are welcome to stay here but you have to be useful. If you stay, this is a team and everybody in this team will pull their own weight.”

Domison’s final proclamation weighed heavily on the room and the silence stretched, until Mike finally answered, “I would like to stay and be a part of the team…” His trembling right hand was pressing lightly against the wound below his ribs, which was now only an angry red scar. “Just tell me what I need to do. I don’t know who you are or how you can do all this crazy shit but… You could have left us but you didn’t and honestly, I have a feeling being around somebody as strong as you might rub off in this ridiculous world. If you need useful… I guess here goes nothing.” Mike closed his eyes after this answer and started reaching his left hand out into the air above him. A quivering pointer finger stretched as though about to make some sort of selection on an invisible touch screen. Mike felt in his soul that this was the right thing to do. He had been thinking about it since he woke up and was overwhelmed with the deluge of system notifications popping up on the backs of his eyelids. He had to take a chance.