“Look at this neophyte. Doesn’t know the difference between a ball and The Orb.” -Montgomery Kone, QWERPline-
_____
“I’m not kidding.” James said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Becker’s dinged up SUV parked streetside in front of the rental home, which looked very inviting in the suburban gloom after the events of the last hour. James was relieved to see the other rental car there too, which confirmed that Arrush had gotten back okay, even though he’d already known that from keeping in contact through his skulljack. “Two. Three if you count Zhu, but he’s asleep. Actually dunno if any of them have passengers, so could be more.”
”Sounds like you hit your head too hard.” The man ran a finger under his nose, stroking his mustache while his lined face frowned at the building he’d parked next to. “Demons don’t make friends.”
”Yeah, well, I didn’t say demons, did I?” James snapped back, trying to keep from actually scowling and maybe not quite succeeding. His side hurt from where he’d been stabbed, and there was a faint ache across his legs and shoulders as his Endurance let the consequences of his activity come flooding in, having decided that it had held the problem off for long enough.
James needed an exercise potion, and a handful of blue orbs, and maybe some ibuprofen. He needed to hug Arrush and text his other partners. But also, he needed answers.
”I’m armed.” Becker told him. “Just in case.”
”Whatever man.” James rolled out of the seat and stepped neatly onto the strip of pointless lush lawn casually wasting water, heading for the door and finally turning off his skulljack sensory broadcast. “Hey gang. Where’s our prisoner?” He announced himself as he strode through the door, leaving it open behind him for his ride to follow if the older man wanted.
The sound of padding footsteps was all the warning he got before he saw Arrush roll over the back of the couch in the living room at the end of the entrance hallway, and charge him. The ratroach slid to a stop on the hardwood floor just in front of him, favoring one leg as he rose to his full height and looked down at James.
One of his small paws, from the arm that jutted out just above his hip, clumsily took one of James’ hands. Folding fingers open so that his other paw could come around and drop a pair of blue orbs into it, and then fold James’ hand back up. James smiled through the whole production, happily accepting the offered magic.
[+.6 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Pole Vaulting - Olympic Rules]
[Problem Solved : Restocked Toothpaste]
[+.6 Skill Ranks : Repair - Ceramics - Kintsugi]
[Problem Solved : Medical Attention]
”See, I love this.” James said as he felt the wash of numb lack of pain around his newly stitched up wound. “I love how mapping out the blue ‘field’ lets us do this. But I also hate how this feels like it’s disincentivizing me from brushing my teeeeeeef!” He squeaked as Arrush, already knowing that the wound was closed and the pain muffled, wrapped James in four of his five limbs and squeezed him into a hug.
It took a moment for James to realize that Arrush was vibrating in the way he did when he was suppressing his own fear. One of his chitin plates was moving at just the right angle to feel like it was sanding down the skin on James’ arm. “Why?” Arrush asked him abruptly.
”Why what?” James said, gently shifting Arrush so that he wasn’t being ablated.
“Yuh… hu… you…” Arrush took short, harsh breaths, and James realized that he’d clearly misjudged how upset Arrush was. “You let yourself get hurt. For someone who hurt you. Wh-why?”
James tightened his own grip on Arrush as he leaned into the hug. “…can I tell you later?” He said quietly, working hard to keep his voice steady as he heard boots clomping on the entryway behind him and felt Arrush’s body shift as he watched the newest arrival.
”Huh. Ain’t that some shit.” Becker said as he appraised Arrush carefully. “It’s not gonna bite me, is it?”
”Th-thinking about it now.” Arrush said with an irritated rasp.
James pulled back, placing a small kiss on the smooth line of chitin on Arrush’s muzzle, mindful that there wasn’t anything that would be corrosive there first, before moving past him. “Come on. Let’s talk. Is everyone else here?” He asked as he moved past the door to the basement staircase and into the living room.
They weren’t. Yin and Myles were absent. As was the teenager James had assumed would be here. Alice, Charlie, and Dance were all present though, with even the impulsive younger girl sitting with them around the table and carefully updating their information on what was going on. Or maybe just scowling in unison at the map. Watching a camraconda scowl was actually really funny to James; it was clear that it wasn’t a natural expression for their species, but Dance was intentionally or not mimicking the humans around her.
Charlie glanced up as he walked in. “Good, you’re back. The rogues took the other guy to the hospital. I don’t think we’re getting any answers out of that one, so it’s good you brought someone else back.” He stood up and moved with his rapid precise steps to offer a handshake to the newcomer who had switched to suspiciously eying the camraconda. “Charlie. Nominally in charge of this operation. Appreciate you giving our paladin a lift.”
If he were feeling better, James would take a more active role in what was going on. But for now, he stood back and let the deception happen. Becker might have helped him, but they still couldn’t trust the guy just because they knew about one of lies. So, misdirection of a sort. Downplay James’ role, redirect focus to Charlie, who actually was in charge here even if it felt weird to highlight it. The Order did use command structures for dire situations, but even here and now, where they had time to talk things out and come to consensus, they didn’t really rely on them.
The main thing was, James wanted this guy to see him as lower on the ladder. Because, as he’d learned from his ongoing weaponized social practice with JP and from a few select skill ranks, that kind of relationship could act as a pry bar to get at people’s juicy secrets. Again, it wasn’t even that much of a lie; it was just a small twist on the truth that they would iron out later if it came to that.
”Becker. My pleasure on the ride. Anything that throws a wrench in someone else’s plans is a pleasant night out.” The man looked around the house’s open main floor, thick neck craning as he especially focused on Dance at the end of the table with her mechanical arms gently dragging a sharpie across a map. “Want to tell me what this operation is?”
Charlie nodded once tightly, and shared what they’d agreed to share. “We’re a team from a larger out of state organization.” He said, and James noted how Becker tightened up slightly even if he kept his outward expression flat. “A while back, we had an encounter with a hostile group in this state, that led to us temporarily evacuating a few young people for their safety. One week later, we returned them to their families. However when we performed a followup check on their safety, we found they were missing.” Charlie’s clinical breakdown, with his precise technical voice, did a lot to mask the fact that he didn’t explain what organization they were from. “We’re here to investigate, to determine if there’s something sinister going on, and to stop it if we need to.”
Becker pointed a calloused finger at Dance before jutting a thumb back at Arrush. “And these things?”
”Hi, you fucking asshole.” Dance spoke up, narrowing her lens at the man. “Oh wait, we’re supposed to be making friends with it! Sorry, pretend I said something nice to justify my existence.” She looked back down at the map, ‘muttering’ a perfectly audible and clear “Dickhead” as she did so. Alice leaned over to whisper something about how she really wasn’t supposed to swear like that, but this was a special case.
”Before this gets out of hand.” James cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the man whose face was rapidly turning beet red. “I’m just gonna set some ground rules, cause you weren’t listening to me in the car, but maybe you will now. Everyone here is a person. Yes, some of us look different. I’m sure you can put on your big boy pants and work through the confusion long enough to cope for a day or two.” James crossed his arms. “You clearly know there’s some weird stuff out there, if you’ve figured out bespoke paintball mixes for fighting demons, and it’s not like people go around impersonating high ranking officials for fun. So stop being an asshole. Especially since it feels like you’re being an asshole just to see what happens.”
Becker gave James an unpleasant smile. “Heh. Okay kid.” He said.
”Don’t people who call you kid have a shockingly low survival rate?” Dance commented with perfectly faked curiosity.
”Yeah, that one might be a curse. Be on the lookout for that I guess.” James moved to the arm of the couch, and let himself fall backward, regretting the dramatic flop rather painfully as his magically affixed stitches tugged. “Look. Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it. I think we’d all also appreciate some information, because it’s obvious you know a little more about what the hell is happening here.”
”Oh, I know a lot about what’s happening here.” Becker nodded. “But I have an important question first.”
James pressed his eyes closed as Arrush sat down on the couch by his head, the cushion sinking and ruining his positioning for a moment before he shifted. He had a grim feeling that he knew what the man was going to say. Not, like, a sense of dread exactly. Just a depressed notion that he saw where this was going.
Alice, who had mostly kept in the background for the conversation, sighed as loudly as James was feeling. “I forgot.” She said, idly fiddling with her bangs, twisting the hair between two fingers. “I got so used to a social circle that’s all Recovery and ratroaches that I forgot.”
”What?” Becker looked confused.
”Oh, sorry, go ahead. What’s the question?” Alice went back to look at the map, showing something to Dance on her phone and pointing to a house that the camraconda made a mark by.
Becker narrowed his eyes, suspicion and discomfort with the situation on full display. Neither James nor Charlie missed that he had kept himself by the entry hall and the easiest path to an exit, or that he had made good on his promise to keep himself armed. But James didn’t think he was all asshole, and he did owe the guy for helping him draw off the demon assault and giving him a non-telepad escape route.
Actually, James really owed him for that, because as he reflexively checked, he found his telepad had gotten stabbed too at some point, and he was walking around with a blue orb. His backup was still in place and safe, but it didn’t have a destination written in. Oversight on his part. He’d do better next time.
”What’s in it for me?” Becker eventually asked.
James gave a tiny fist pump and a soft “Yessss”, covered by the back of the couch and kind of just feeling insufferable about guessing correctly. Alice just snorted, and slapped a hand onto Dance’s face in a way that wouldn’t actually stop the girl from saying anything, but was more of a symbolic gesture.
Fortunately, Charlie was the one guiding this conversation, so James just had to pay attention while trying not to doze off. “For one thing, information.” He said. “You might know more, but it’s a safe bet we don’t know the same things. We’re willing to share secrets, on a couple conditions. But more importantly, if our goals align, you get help. Even if they don’t perfectly line up, we would owe you a favor, and mutual assistance is a foundational tenet of our group.”
”And what if I’m just here to get paid and get out?”
”Then we’ll pay you, and you can get out.” Charlie said with his smoothly neutral voice. Neither snarky like James would have been nor judgmental like Dance or Alice would have come across. Just a simple transaction. “There’s no issue with that.”
”What if I want to get paid a lot?” Becker gave another unpleasant smile. It wasn’t how he looked, exactly, it was just the way it came across as rude. Like he was taunting on purpose.
”You will at some point need to give a concrete number.” Charlie said, not breaking eye contact or reacting much.
“Thirty million.”
“No.”
While Charlie’s reply was perfectly reasonable, for this James felt compelled to chime in. “No and go fuck yourself!” He called from his position laying sprawled on the couch’s fake leather, hoping his blood didn’t get on it through the dressing.
He barely heard Dance complaining to Alice, “He gets to swear. Let me swear.”
Alice’s reply of “When you’re thirty years old and have proper antidepressants you can swear too.” Didn’t really make James feel confident in her parenting style, but he genuinely looked forward now to knowing what a camraconda would be like when they hit their late twenties early thirties.
“Thirty million is unreasonable.” Charlie said, more directly addressing Becker. “Why that much?”
Becker started laughing. A wheezing belly laugh, the first real sound of mirth that James had heard from him since first meeting him over someone else’s desk in a police department. “Because that’s what I’m here to take.” He said, making a decision and walking past Charlie to drag one of the chairs at the kitchen table out to take a seat in, wood creaking under his bulky frame. “That’s how much, mostly in gold, is kept in the vault of the Sagebrush North Utah Stake Center. That’s what I’m here for. So if you don’t care about cash, that’s what you’ll pay me for my help.”
“…Ugh.” James grunted as he dragged himself up, poking his head over the back of the couch and trying not to knee Arrush in the stomach as he did so. “Sorry, that’s… three quarters of a ton of gold? How, and I’m not knocking your physical ability here, but how were you planning to steal that?”
”Why do you just know that weight off the top of your head?” Becker raised an eyebrow at him.
”Reasons.” James didn’t want to talk about replicator logistics. “Do you have a bag of holding? I’ll just fucking give you $30 million for a bag of holding.”
”What. Really?”
”Yes.” Charlie said, again with his reasonable and calm voice. “It’s on our acquisition list. We have… a significant budget for specific items.”
”Well, I don’t. I only partly know what you’re even talking about. What I was planning doesn’t matter, because that’s for me to know.” Becker drummed fingers on the table, tugging a corner of one of their maps before Alice pulled it back and pinned him with a flatly unimpressed look. “What do you want to know? Let’s work something out.”
They had a list of gaps they needed to fill in, but Charlie started small. Relatively. “The things you’re calling demons. What’s up with that?”
”What’s up with that.” Becker repeated in a mocking voice. “Well, it turns out, monsters are real. But I bet you all knew that.”
”Biting you is still an option.” Dance reminded him.
Charlie flicked a hand in her direction in a signaling motion, and she settled down. “We’re aware of the existence of magic. Which I assume you have, though you’re feigning ignorance of. You impersonated a police captain in the middle of a police station. That’s not something you can do without some form of mental manipulation. Why do you know enough about these creatures to be fighting them.”
Becker appraised the other man, then shook his head with a frown, turning to stare out the darkened window. “You know I’m from around here?” He asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “My brother and I grew up about thirty miles away. Raised as proper Mormon cultists. I got out.” He grunted, shaking his head again. “Best thing I ever did for myself. Left for twenty years, never heard from any of the parasites in my family again. Still missed my brother though, and a few years back, I was in the area, so I dropped by. Reconnected. Met his kid.” He looked up at Charlie, meeting the calm man’s eyes. “I was the cool uncle. Sister in law hated it. I got to swoop in and be a terrible influence, and the kid loved it. Hell, I did too.”
”I can appreciate that.” Charlie nodded. “Getting yourself out of a bad situation isn’t easy. But how does this relate?”
”I’m getting to it, hold your horses.” Becker grumbled, some of the thin smile slipping away. “Anyway. Last year, the kid calls me up. He says he needs help. Says he can’t fight his demons anymore.”
Charlie nodded. “And it wasn’t a metaphor.” He prompted.
”No it surely was not.” Becker sighed theatrically. “So I finished up my job, and came running. And the boy was already gone. Not dead, as far as anyone knows. Just missing. For eight months now.” He looked down at the back of his hand, thick fingers still tapping out arhythmically on the tabletop. “So your search isn’t the first one.”
”Okay, hang on.” James held up a hand. “How does this get to you robbing a church?”
”My turn for a question first.” Becker said, pointing at James. “What were you doing that drew out a hunt like that?”
”Stalking kids that had spells.” James said honestly. “Trying to figure out where they got the magic, and why they were so afraid of exactly what happened. Though I’ll tell you this right now; they seemed surprised by it. Like it was off schedule? And also they thought it was for me.”
”Probably was, in a way. I’ve seen this tactic before, when someone comes snooping. A disgraced fed saying crazy shit and two dead kids gets buried. Keeps investigations from starting.” Becker looked toward the kitchen. “Got anything to drink?” He asked suddenly.
”Yeah, sure.” Alice stood up to grab him something, picking up her glasses off the windowsill and putting them on as she went into the kitchen, rattling off options until the man settled on a can of carbonated coffee.
Charlie picked up the questions as Becker popped open the drink and took a swig before giving a disproving frown at the can in his hand. “Why do so many people in this city casually have magic.”
”It’s not casual.” Becker said sharply. “It’s calculated. Everyone with the magic draws out more demons on a schedule, so they regulate it. Any rewards are confiscated. And that time it takes to equip the spells? Every hour of these kid’s lives is accounted for. They have exactly long enough to use the ones they’re told. And from there, it’s self-reinforcing.”
”How… so?” James asked, worried.
”Because one of the spells makes you firmly believe the next thing you say.” Becker answered grimly, leaving his drink on the table.
Next to James, Arrush curled his legs up on the couch, wrapping his bifurcated tail around his paws as he did so. “Oh.” The ratroach said, itching sharply at the lines between fur and chitin on his neck. “This is… familiar.” His array of eyes flicked around the room, sliding past James who was watching him with worry. “I don’t like this.” He whispered as James scooted closer to offer him what comfort he could.
”Yeah, big cult energy here. Hey, I know I’m gonna regret this, but who is they?” James asked. “And don’t just say ‘Mormons’, cause that’s gonna complicate everything.”
”Mormons.” Becker said, relishing complicating things. “Though so far, it seems limited to North and South Smiths, and maybe a little of the north edge of Salt Lake City. This isn’t church doctrine, unless they changed a lot since I got physically out. This is a schism that no one knows happened yet.” He paused, then added, “Not that it matters.”
“And the other people with magic?” Charlie asked. “Because that same type of it shows up in some odd places.”
”Either they’re adults who are taking advantage of the situation, or kids who are sneaking it by.” Becker chuckled mirthlessly. “I remember being that age. We weren’t all stupid, even the believers. And they made their own problem here, even if this is a little bigger than importing black market Mountain Dew.”
James nodded. “I can already see how this backfires. You make kids into fanatics, who have special powers, and what you end up with are fanatics that take the initiative.”
”Bingo.”
”Cool. So how the fuck does this turn into a church heist?” James tried to square that nonsense with everything else they were being told.
Becker flicked a finger on the rim of his coffee can with a metal plink. “Because I can’t find my nephew.” He said. “I can’t find my brother. I can’t fix this, and I can’t put things right. I wasn’t fast enough.” He ground his teeth together, cutting off the line of thought as he clearly felt like he was saying too much, before he looked up and met James’ eyes. “So I’m going to hurt these assholes and their toxic little cult, and I’m going to smile while I get rich on their misery.”
“Okay.” Charlie had turned to face Becker, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who paced or shifted while he spoke. “We can work together. The money isn’t an issue for us, but I think by the end of this, we’re going to end up accomplishing your goal regardless.”
”No.” Becker shook his head. “I’m working alone on this. Questions, that’s one thing. And I’ll tell you more of what I know, too. But I don’t know you or your people. I’m not trusting you with my life. And it is my life here. Mine and my nephew’s maybe. Maybe you play hero and end up saving the day, okay, I’ll shake your hand and wish you the best for it. But there’s five of you, I don’t think you have any backers, and I think I’d rather do things my way.”
”Fair enough.” Charlie said.
”Stupid, but we’re not gonna conscript you.” Alice added. “Can you tell us what you know about the demons, at least?”
Becker gave her a rippling nod. “Sure thing girlie.” Alice bristled but didn’t stop him talking. “If anyone has the magic, it makes the things. They show up in random places, and start hunting; seems like about once a week. The temple locks up the kids every time it happens, and harvests the monsters. Plays it off like it’s half party half ritual.”
”The demons are useful?” Charlie asked.
”Sometimes. The ones tonight, they’re… nothing, really. Swarms are a problem, but they can’t fight worth a damn. Almost never leave anything behind, and when they do it’s weak. But the bigger ones, the worse ones, their bodies turn into more magic. And that’s what the leadership takes, takes their cut of, then passes out as part of their new control system.” Becker sounded pissed as he spoke. More than before, more like this was personal.
James almost empathized. “Are the demons people? I know you’re the wrong person to ask here, but…”
”Th-the ones tonight didn’t want to talk.” Arrush said. “But… that doesn’t mean…”
”They might be people.” Becker snorted. “Who cares? People can be monsters too.”
”Fair enough.” Charlie echoed his earlier words. “How big do they get?”
”Big. House sized big.”
James winced. ”Fuck, that’s new.” He wasn’t in the kaiju fighting business. He hadn’t even brought his mech along.
”I could fight a house.” Arrush said confidently, and James’ concern mixed with an amused smile as he rubbed a hand down the ratroach’s neck, getting a surprised rapid clicking from Arrush.
Becker watched the byplay with narrowed eyes. “The books, the ones that let you strap spells to your soul or whatever you hippies want to call it, I’ve never seen one show up, just stolen them, so those are less common. The useful ones anyway. Most of them are pointless. I’ve got a few in a safe stash, but who the hell needs magic to see normally out of one eye, or to clean grout?”
”I’m not gonna lie to you, that second one sounds amazing.” James said. He’d worked enough jobs that required deep cleaning tile walls or floors that he was prepared to… well, not kill for that spell, but at least negotiate for it. “We could maybe make a trade for that one.”
”Trade what?” Becker sounded curious.
”Money.” Charlie answered instantly. “Fifty thousand, clean, cash. That’s the maximum offer we have for ‘cantrip’ class objects like that.”
Becker considered it, wiping the back of his hand against one of his cheeks. “It’s not a vault full of gold, but it’s something.” He said. “We’ll talk later. Not tomorrow, but soon.” He stood up slowly, and Charlie handed him a piece of paper. “What’s this?”
”A series of phone numbers and email addresses.” Charlie said plainly. “So we can talk. Later.”
Goodbye was abrupt. Becker took the page, didn’t bother to confirm any of it, and just looked around the room before moving toward the front door. “It’s been fun.” He said. “But I have places to be, and you feel like you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
”Agreed.” James said with a laugh. “But hey. Thanks for the ride, really. You’re an asshole, but you’re not evil. And I appreciate that.”
”Yeah, same to you, brat.” Becker gave James a lopsided flash of a smile, before he let himself out, calling back that he’d be in touch.
Charlie shut the front door after him, locked it, and silently went back into the living room. Looking around at the others, he shook his head in disappointment before crouching and pulling the small audio bug that Becker had left attached to the table off, and dumping it into the sink. The garbage disposal protested for a minute, but eventually solved the problem.
”Any others?” He asked. They took some time checking everything the man had touched, but found nothing. Which didn’t mean they’d trust anything, just yet, but it didn’t seem likely they were still being snooped on. “Okay. Alice?”
Alice set the glasses back on the table, shaking her head. “Martin Lionel.” She said, sliding the Office item that provided names and ranks away from herself. “Job title of ‘spirited brother’, and he’s part of something called the Seventeen Impressive Bastards. Which I take offense to.”
”Because swearing is wrong?” Dance asked sarcastically.
”Because that was not impressive.” Alice told her adopted sort-of-daughter. The woman dragged a hand across the side of her face, briefly revealing a thick white scar on her neck before fiddling with her hairclip put everything back in order. “Ugh. I hate this.” She announced.
James gave her a sympathetic look from his spot on the couch. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d be… that.”
”I mean… okay, yeah, that guy seems like a tool. But I mean the whole situation. I don’t like the fighting.” Alice looked up at Charlie, who met her eyes briefly before giving her a nod. “I don’t want to fight demons. I’m not a delver, I’m… Charlie what are we?”
”Scouts, but we’re also delvers. You liked the Climb delve we did.” He pointed out. Though before Alice could come up with an argument about that, or rightly point out that they had spent that delve doing more spelunking than fighting, Charlie got back to the point. “How much of what he just said do we think we can trust?”
James made a noise between a groan and a sigh. “I’m skeptical of most of it.” He admitted. “It… seems like the perfect story. Which makes it suspicious. He just happens to be a cultural outsider with a grudge against an established power structure, and they happen to have both some nefarious plots and also a literal ton of gold? If you wanted to come up with a fantastic story for us specifically that hits a lot of the notes that would get you on our good side.”
The camraconda at the kitchen table arched herself backward, starting at the ceiling with her lens unfocused. “It makes me want to help him and I think he’s a jerk!” She told them all.
“You think he cold read us?” Alice asked.
Next to James, Arrush shifted as he refrained from asking, afraid of interrupting. “Cold reading means he took a shot in the dark, then adapted based on our reactions.” James answered the unspoken question. “And I dunno. But he’s obviously holding back a lot. And that organization name? Love it, really do, but that could be anything from a group of friends that get together on saturdays to go fishing, to an actual organization of gentleman thieves.”
”Why’s it gentleman thieves and not gentlewoman thieves?” Dance asked, still staring at the ceiling, and not operating under the same shy restrictions on questions that Arrush was.
”Sexism.” Alice answered her flatly. “So what can we trust? Demons, indoctrination, loot drops, anything?”
”We don’t have sufficient evidence to answer any of those.” Charlie said with a frown, and was about to say more, before he stopped. Arrush had held up one of his claws like he wanted to speak, and his smaller left arm was rifling through the pouch pocket of his hoodie. After untangling a claw from where it had gotten caught on the fabric, Arrush carefully set a handful of copper coins, one of them shot through the middle with a slash of glittering red, on the back of the couch. “Okay, we now have sufficient evidence for one of those.”
James picked up one of the coins. The copper ones were the same as the recovered level one spell slot coins, but the one with the scar of ruby through it was… odd. He really wanted to use it, in defiance of the Order’s policy of copying new stuff before breaking it. But he’d written that policy for a reason, so he held off. “How do you have four of these? None of my demons…” James cleared his throat, “okay nevermind, I maybe have shot a lot of them and not checked. But he did say the drop rate was low for these things?”
Arrush nodded carefully, wiping at his mouth with a frayed hoodie sleeve. “One in… six? One in seven maybe? Counting is hard in a fight. Ah-Anesh is trying to teach us percentages, but I don’t know this one.” He closed his eyes, muzzle pulling tight as he focused. “Fffffffifteen?” He asked, the drawn out word accidentally dripping corrosive saliva on the couch that he frantically moved to swipe away.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
”Close, yes.” Charlie nodded. “Sixteen point six repeating.” He ignored Arrush’s unhappy look that apparently numbers had more layers to them, just as Charlie ignored the hissing sound on the couch pleather. “That’s not that-“
”Sorry, wait.” James cut in. “How… many did you have to fight?” He asked, suddenly terrified. “Because I only took out… uh… not that many.”
Arrush looked away, curling in on himself. “S-sorry.” He whispered.
”No, I mean, I’m just worried!” James told him. He bit his own tongue before he kept talking, realizing in time he was about to make a joke about Arrush being terrifying, and exercising his executive override on his mouth to stop that now before he made his ratroach boyfriend feel worse. But… that was terrifying, in an impressive way. One in six? That meant that between the park and the car, Arrush had cut through at least twenty four of the demonic swan things, and still had enough time to pick up the coins.
It was, in a deliberate way, easy for James to forget that Arrush had originally been made and shaped as a weapon. The big guy just didn’t feel dangerous whenever he was around James. Or didn’t feel dangerous to James anyway; he just felt… like he needed a hug, constantly. But if nothing else, he was still a delver with the Order, and you didn’t get to do that without a certain level of competence.
”Okay. So we can confirm the creatures drop magic as physical objects.” Charlie pressed on like he was unaffected. “It seems likely that he is either lying or incorrect regarding the demons. Oh, are we going with that as a name?”
James and Alice made unified “Eugh” sounds, while Dance just cut in more vocally. “He was sorta talking about different species, and called them all demons.” She said as she finally decided to stop stretching and whipped her long body around to face the others. “He’s saying ‘nonhuman’ or ‘dungeonite’. Also he’s stupid and we shouldn’t listen to him.”
”Strong points.” Charlie conceded as Alice, now pacing around behind the table, leaned over Dance to give the girl a supporting hug. “It’s been months since we brought back the retrieved books and coins to the Lair.” He continued his prior sentence smoothly. “Unless the entities are coming from the dungeon entrance directly, then they do not spawn in reaction to casters. Especially now that testing has uncovered the second layer, and also medical is employing the charm river spell on a regular basis for Kalik.”
”Oh!” James perked up. “Our frog dog friend picked a name?”
”I helped.” Arrush said, still curled up, but with a satisfied tinge to his hissed words. He’d mostly just given emotional support, and explained why he and Keeka had picked their own names - the sounds were easy to make in a way that didn’t draw hostile attention. Now that they didn’t have to worry about that, though, they’d sort of mutated into something that humans and camracondas pronounced like words; different than they originally were, but not bad. Kalik had taken that as a challenge, and named himself something that required a small amount of ability to croak, which Arrush suspected would be difficult for most people.
”Very cool. So, this leaves two questions.” James ticked off on his fingers. “One; how much is this actually tangled up in the church? Because if this is something that is working at a larger scale, that means… somehow… they’re coping with the field effect, or the local memeplexes, or whatever it is that makes this not happen. And two; why are there spellbooks hidden at the library? Because that is somewhere outside of church control - at least I hope it is - so that means there’s a third party in this. Or… okay, three; how many parties are there? We’ve got us, Becker and his hypothetical bastards…. I’m adding a four, too, which is, did any of these people know about the Guild of Alchemists? They were around here. Did the bonsai tree come from this dungeon? That’s five, I guess. I lied when I said two.”
Charlie tapped a pair of fingers on his arm as he thought. “We did see your encounter with Jeff and Scott. The two of them used heavily religious language that outlines a hostile living environment. When talking to you about Emma and Liam, they alluded to what seems to be imprisonment. We can’t jump to conclusions, but it’s possible our missing people are from a secondary faction that is resisting the main body.”
”That’s a leap.” Alice laughed. “I love how you keep telling us we don’t have enough data, and then whenever you make a hypothesis it’s ‘what if there was a secret civil war’. This is great. I love working with you.”
Dance wiggled in Alice’s arms, turning slightly in her chair to try to look at the woman. “I thought that was why he said that! Cause he says stupid shit if he doesn’t hold back!”
”Stop-“
”Swearing. No.” Dance tugged forward and looked at the dual maps on the table. “How do church work?” She asked. “Do they know everything their people do?”
James snorted. “Usually not, no. Even if some of them probably want to. Why?”
”If Charlie’s making guesses, I will too! I bet there’s two different groups doing the kidnappings, and they’re using each other as cover!” Dance proclaimed. “That’s what I do when I want to steal ice cream. Find someone else stealing ice cream, and then you’re each other’s alibis!”
”…I’m learning a lot about why our freezer is never stocked properly.” Charlie said with a touch of wry humor. “No more assumptions for now. What we need is to start pulling threads, which means we need Myles and Yin back here, and…” he stopped talking, raising his eyebrows expectantly at James as James’ phone started ringing. “Go ahead, I’m comfortable with convenient timing.” He offered.
James laughed. “Nah, it’s probably spam or… oh, no, it’s Myles.” He answered. “Good timing, we were… oh? Okay, good. Good, good. Yeah.” Everyone else got quiet as they watched him, waiting for any kind of tidbits. “Well shit, that’s not good. Yeah, it’ll slow us down but not by much, since… I mean, telepads. It makes sense. Oh, can you or Yin drop by and grab a thing to take to the copier beforehand? Yeah. No, it wasn’t me this time, it was Arrush. What do you mean there’s two of us now? He’s been here the whole…!” James sighed, and looked down at his phone as Myles hung up on him. Then looked up to see four expectant gazes on him. “What?”
”What do you mean, ‘what’?” Alice demanded. “What was that?”
”Myles and Yin dropped the kid off at the ER, and got in some trouble over it. Which is to say, there’s warrants out for their arrest for attempted murder. So that’s an issue.” He sank down on the couch, laying his legs over Arrush’s lap and letting the leather cushions sap away the tension in his shoulders. “They’re going to swap out with another pair of rogues, so we’ll have a little delay on that help. And this is more evidence that there’s some kind of actual superstition level bad luck in play.” He chuckled bitterly. “Anyway, Yin’s gonna be here in a few minutes to pick up the coin and get out of here so she doesn’t get arrested again.”
Charlie crossed his arms. “Annoying setback.”
”It’s not that bad.” James commented. “To go off what you said earlier, I think we should prioritize looking into the spellbooks. Figure out where the uncontrolled or underground ones are coming from, and work backward from there. Because that’s more likely to put us near people who are gonna align with us, right?”
Alice nodded rapidly. ”Right.” She grinned. “And then we can steal them!”
”I thought we weren’t stealing magic from people.” Dance sounded irate. “You said no stealing!”
Arrush gave a wet laugh. ”Sh-she means the people.” He said, adjusting his hoodie as he uncurled slightly to speak. “It’s how James makes friends.”
”It’s how we make friends, comrade!” James corrected with a beaming grin. “Also I’m not gonna steal them.”
Or at least, that wasn’t what his ideal outcome was. But his ideal was a pipe dream when all they had to go on was the maybe-presence of a small group of semi-secret wizards. In a perfect world, James would find within them kindred spirits, and a place to begin long term Order operations in the area. A second seed planted, and a backup for their ideals and knowledge and power, should it be needed.
It was the kind of thing they had on the list of stuff to do anyway, but there was a certain kind of rapid action that came about in the aftermath of a crisis that James felt made the process smoother. More chaotic, sure, but also people were a lot more willing to hear out your weird ideas for humanity - for life on Earth, he corrected his thoughts - when you’d just saved their lives.
The good news was that James was good at saving lives. He had a lot of practice. Which sorta meant he was uniquely suited to being a paladin, because he couldn’t put most of his experience on a resume and expect to be taken seriously.
Charlie’s mouth twitched into a frown. “The annoying part of the setback is that we won’t get answers from the kids. At least, not those two. If they’re in the hospital, they’re going to be under observation, we can’t risk that. What happened to the others Zhu was tracking?”
“Not sure.” James matched the frown from his low vantage point. “We were planning on going for the next one after our conversation, but…”
”Demons!” Dance declared happily. “Hey, dude, you know you’re allowed to go outside without starting fights, right?
”I blame Zhu.” James felt comfortable with that, since Zhu was still resting after exerting himself, and couldn’t argue. Somewhere deep in the instinctive part of his thoughts that reminded him of what building he was in and how to find his way home, a small ember of irritation flared, before settling down. If James weren’t paying attention, he wouldn’t have even realized that it wasn’t his own thought, but he was, so he matched it with a brief playful vibe of amusement. “But it’s true, we need to find people to give us answers. So I’m gonna double down on the books.” He shrugged into the couch. “People are using them. Which means people have magic. Which means we can at least ask them some basics.”
”We do lack fundamentals here.” Charlie said. “It feels like if we were investigating the Order, and we knew about absorbed blues, cracked greens, the dart gun that shoots spiders, and nothing else.”
”Well that’s a terrifying thought.” James muttered.
Silence fell for a bit, until Alice broke it. “Alright, I’m starving. I’m gonna make some pasta. Anyone want pasta?” A few of them did, and she counted off how many noodles she was going to need to make for the group. “We can sit here all night talking about this, but it’s late, Dance has a bedtime, and we aren’t getting anywhere at this point.” She claimed as she started looking through the pale wood of the kitchen cupboards for where the rental home hid the pots, ignoring Dance’s protest about the flagrant lie regarding her mandatory sleep schedule. “Did you return that book Charlie found?”
”I did not.” James said. “Got a bit sidetracked.” He rolled off the couch, and by association Arrush, standing up with a pained grunt as his wound reminded him of its presence. “Dammit. I want health potions.” He complained. “But yeah, you’re right. Dinner sounds good, and getting back into this tomorrow sounds better. Also, before it’s too late, I need to go make a call.”
”Anything serious?” Charlie asked as he took Alice’s chair at the table.
”Personal thing.” James smiled. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually do love my partners, so I’m gonna say goodnight to them because Alanna is ‘normal’ about when she sleeps.”
”T-tell Keeka I said I love him too!” Arrush said with subdued urgency as James moved to step out onto the house’s back deck.
James smiled back, giving a nod, and deciding to mention later that Arrush could totally do that himself. He was positive that Arrush and Keeka had phones, but… now he wasn’t so sure. Also cell phones might be a challenge for a ratroach head; their ears were not as close to their mouths as they were on humans.
He’d ask later tonight, after dinner and maybe a careful shower if he felt like the medical attention blue orb had spared him the need to be too careful with the stitches. Despite his habit of draping himself over various pieces of furniture, he was still kind of covered in dirt, tiny bits of bark chips, blood, and some of the weird goo that the not-demons burst into when injured. So a shower sounded nice.
But first, a phone call.
The night air on the back deck was windy and too bright; the surrounding street lights and houses reflecting off the thin clouds in the sky and making the world feel a little too orange. When James was a kid, he’d thought this kind of light pollution had indicated that there was a distant fire; a signal of a far off disaster. Now, it just make him feel a little claustrophobic even while he was under the open sky. Though being surrounded by a copy-pasted fence that hemmed in the back yard and cordoned off the yards of the adjacent homes probably didn’t help with that feeling.
It took four seconds before Alanna picked up, James spending the time listening to the custom ringtone he used both for calling and being called by her, the first few notes of an instrumental version of a Franz Ferdinand song playing in his ear before the voice of someone he loved replaced it.
”Beaverton City Morgue, you whack ‘em, we stack ‘em, what can I do for ya?” Alanna’s voice affected the worst Boston accent James had ever heard.
”Hi, I hear you have a special on skulls? I’m doing some art and I need skulls.”
Alanna’s accent faltered. “What fucking weird-ass art are you doing? You’ve been gone for two days, how did you get this weird already?”
”Oh, I’m making a skull-putre.” James said, and then waited.
There was a moment of silence. It went on for a bit, his face stretched in a grin, before he realized Alanna had hung up on him. Not to be discouraged, James pushed a different button and called someone else.
Anesh answered almost instantly, with a sigh. “What did you do?”
”Made a pun.” James told his boyfriend. “It was a good one, too!”
”I believe you.” The texture of the call changed and James knew he’d just been put on speakerphone. “How’s Utah?”
James paused, debating whether to downplay how things were going. It wasn’t so much a debate, though, as it was his brain shoving him toward reflexively lying just so no one worried about him.
He swallowed that instinct, but it wasn’t easy. “It’s… a bit hectic.” James said.
”Hey!” He heard Alanna call from presumably the other side of their apartment back home. “You know Empathy works on voices, right?!”
”I do now! I was getting to the good bits.” James defended himself. “First hostile contact today. They were… actually it was hard to tell exactly, whatever jumped us killed the lights. But in the proud dungeon tradition of just mashing things together, I’d say they were like swan-bat-goats?”
“Hm.” Anesh made a noise, and James could almost hear him stroking his chin in idle thought. “I’m new to this kind of thinking, but is now when I’m supposed to ask if they were hot?”
”Yes!” Alanna declared, closer to the phone and louder now.
”No!” James answered. “Which is to say, no, they weren’t… I mean, they could have been, but they were also uncommunicative and trying to kill me, so I’m biased now. Also I don’t think they’re people? But I refuse to say that for certain yet.”
Alanna’s noise of disappointment was audible. “You’re okay though, right? You didn’t get… stomped? How would a goat kill someone? Jumped on?”
”They had really, really sharp beaks. Like razor drills?” James settled his elbows on the deck’s railing, leaning out into the dim backyard as he held his phone to his ear. “Arrush and I got out fine, no one else was there.” He heard Alanna staring to growl at him, and quickly amended the statement. “I got stabbed.” James said the words quickly.
”What?!” Anesh’s voice had the quality of a man jumping to his feet. “Do you need help? We can be there-“
”I’m fine.” James laughed. “Actually fine. Between a few weird purples, my Endurance, and a couple blue orbs, I’m okay. It wasn’t one of the dungeon life either, it was… just some kid. Just a kid.” He sighed, slumping forward on the wood bar he was leaning on, feeling the rough texture of the deck under his feet as he shifted around. “There’s some trouble going on down here. But we don’t know what yet, and if you came down, you’d just be sitting around doing nothing. I promise I’ll tell you if I need backup.”
Alanna sounded unconvinced. “You could also tell Ben, or Nate, or Simon, or-“
”Simon’s on his errancy.” James reminded her.
”James, I love you, but you made up the rules for that. You can call him back whenever you want.” Alanna groused.
James laughed. “Nope! Just because I made up the rules doesn’t mean I get to change them! This isn’t calvinball!”
”I don’t know-“ Anesh started.
James cut in. “Alanna, on the bottom of the big bookshelf in our room, left side, get Anesh all my Calvin and Hobbes comics.”
”Ooh! Yes!” Alanna’s departure was marked by a thud as, James charitably assumed, she did some kind of sweet flip to get over the couch.
”So, putting aside how my night went,” James tried to change the subject, “how’re things going at home?”
Anesh didn’t sound like he wanted to let James get off that easy, but he’d read the actual reports Charlie filed later. “Oh, right proper, so far.” Anesh’s familiar accent was soothing to James even over the phone, and he always wanted to smile when residual slang terms slipped into his sentences. “We’ve had a little… a very small start yesterday. Nothing to worry about. But today’s all upside! New potion tests, new Attic magic, finally got myself a Sewer Lesson, and there’s an Office delve tonight that I’m… well, a little excited for? I didn’t think I’d miss it. But I do.”
”Anesh, I love you, but I knew you would miss it. You hate the fighting, not the cool places.” James laughed.
”It’s true.” Anesh replied, and then paused. “It’s weird without you here, even for a little.” He said quietly. “It reminds me of…”
The quiet got louder, until James broke it. “Of the Underburbs?” He asked. “I know. But this is different. Reminds me more of Townton anyway. But we’re on top of things this time. It’s okay. And I’ll be home before you know it with new bullshit. Oh! What Lesson did you get?”
”Math. Obviously.” Alanna’s voice rejoined them along with the thwap of glossy paper on wood as she deposited a stack of comic books for their boyfriend. “He’s been really careful. Also, our adorable little partner here continues to be an outlier and cornercase.” Alanna said, to which Anesh sputtered.
James straightened up, turning to watch through the kitchen window as Alice messed around making everyone food. “What, did you make multiple copies then give each to one of yourself?” James asked.
”…Yes.” Anesh admitted.
”Neat! Let us know how that goes! The Sewer is weird.” He sighed. “I wish I’d known before stacking all these Lessons that it was weird in a really petty way. I feel like I’m trading actual focused power for… eh, this is a conversation for later.”
”Yeah, now is the time for more important conversations!” Alanna declared. “Like, for example, how fun is it to cuddle Arrush? Anesh won’t tell me how cuddling Keeka is, because he’s selfish, so I’m gonna bully you instead.”
”Oh, that reminds me.” James ignored her question entirely. “Is Keeka around? Arrush wanted to tell him he loved him, and why do those two not have phones?”
”…Keeka has a phone?” Anesh sounded confused. “Does Arrush not have a phone? I’ll talk to Recovery tomorrow. Or maybe tonight since I’m going through their building anyway.”
James often forgot that Recovery had moved a lot of their collective operations into the building surrounding Officium Mundi. He still thought of that building as ‘work’, and not… well, their building.
”I think we’re gonna get a couple rogues swapping in tomorrow.” James said. “Maybe send one of them down with the phone if that timeline works? I dunno. It’s not a super huge deal, I just worry Arrush is doing the thing.”
”The thing you do?”
”The thing I do, yes, thank you.” James rolled his eyes, noticing Alice spotting him through the window and hiding a grin. “Also you want scandalous gossip? Arrush elbows people in his sleep. And by people I mean me.”
”Salacious!” Alanna’s distantly yelled word echoed across the connection.
James shared a laugh with Anesh before continuing. “So, what was the problem on your end?” He asked, suddenly curious. “I haven’t really had time to check in today, and if it was related to those deeply suspicious texts Alanna sent me, she never followed up on that.”
”Oh, yeah, it probably was. Cam found her sister, or visa versa, and it… went. It sure went.” Alanna sounded quieter than normal, taking a long breath before continuing. “You ever get a reminder that you’re not immortal?” She asked.
”Uh…” James didn’t have time to reply before she snorted loudly.
”Alright I realize who I’m talking to.” Alanna said, ignoring Anesh’s own small chuckle. “Look, at one point, Cam got thrown through a car. Like, into the front of a car, hard enough that she damaged the engine and smashed up half the moving parts.” Alanna’s voice held a sort of reverent dread. “That was, on our reconstructed timeline, at the start of the fight? Then they kept going. A lot.”
Anesh’s own tone said that he was worried, though not to the extent Alanna was. “The other daughter is in custody in Townton now. Cam’s keeping an eye on her while she heals, but Nate says it’s under control.”
“Well… okay.” James didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m gonna… trust Nate? Is that really an okay place to keep a Camille?”
”Is anywhere?” Alanna questioned.
Anesh’s discomfort was obvious. “The answer will not surprise you.” He said dryly. “Oh, also, Cam has dragon wings now, and she refuses to drop them, so be ready for that. Also Keeka’s been making friends with her, which is… I don’t know. Good, I suppose?”
Alanna’s quiet words jumped in before James could say anything. “I’m really glad Keeka’s around.” She said.
“Oh, that also reminds me!” James said suddenly. “You texted me about trying to not be an asshole.” Alanna let out a small mock scream on the other end of the phone. “And as a full time accidental asshole, I just wanted to say that you can trust me to tell you if you ever say anything too mean, okay?”
Anesh’s puzzled voice cut into the conversation. ”I… that is… is that reassuring? At all?”
”Actually?” Alanna asked, energy bleeding back into her tone as she dug herself out of whatever den of blankets and pillows she’d buried herself in “Yeah. I appreciate that. A lot.”
”I could also tell you…” Anesh trailed off.
”Uh huh.” James added with a neutral dryness. “It’s hard. And you’re not a professional asshole. You’re a precious cinnamon roll who must be protected at all costs. So let Alanna and I keep each other’s bullshit in check, and you can get away with literally anything.”
”I feel both comforted and patronized.” Anesh’s English accent made him sound airily surprised.
”Perfect.” James said with a grin. “Alright, I’m gonna go eat and sleep. Got a long day of overthrowing a secret theocracy tomorrow. I love you two a lot, tell Keeka and Sarah I said hi, and that Arrush loves Keeka, and that… uh… I dunno, anything else you think is important.”
”Is it weird that we can teleport and we’re still having these phone calls?” Alanna asked. “Anyway, love you too. Hope you get some unelbowed sleep.”
”All of me also love you, but… were you going to explain the theocracy thing?” Anesh asked, puzzled.
”Nope.” James said. “See ya!”
Hanging up felt like letting go of both a connection he felt a deep hunger for, and also a tension that built up as he socialized too much. An odd experience, but when the phone was back in his pocket, and he had some time to just enjoy the night air all by himself, he felt comforted. His partners were okay, they loved each other, and nothing was on fire without him. He had time to sort out this problem, and then more problems lined up after; a busy life, but one full of magic, where he could earn his paladin title.
Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. James was used to a lot of banter and byplay, but even Dance seemed like she was too tired to be too much of a contrarian as everyone ate. It wasn’t a particularly astounding meal, but pasta and a jar of store bought sauce was enough. It tasted pretty good, it was easy, and it fed the group as they quietly occupied couches or the durable cloth chairs on the back porch.
James spent his time flipping through Order updates on his skulljack. Part of his brain listening to the audio of Sarah talking about small happenings and personal triumphs. And then splitting his attention to also read through the more professional proposal for medical trials on the efficacy of red orbs to treat mental health concerns, or the update on dungeontech identification for a half dozen different keyboards, or signing off on his approval for one of the ex-Alchemists officially joining the Order.
Being able to casually do stuff like this while eating felt weirdly meditative to him. He was pretty sure Charlie was doing something similar, while Arrush was carefully trying to eat without getting any sauce on either himself, his clothes, or the manga he had brought to read and was keeping held open with one of his extra arms. When James realize what he was doing, he felt a deep longing for extra arms himself, to do exactly the same thing; being able to read and eat at the same time would be so comfortable, and he only half-jokingly considered adding it to his own shaper substance wishlist if he ever decided to change his own body.
He made an appreciative noise as he chewed, both for the food someone else had made for him, and because there was a new potion that was being considered for production that specifically improved the health and restoration rate of bioorganic rubber. Utterly useless for almost anyone that wasn’t a camraconda. But the Order had camracondas, and now they would have an option for dealing with the difficulty in slithering a two hundred pound form across asphalt sometimes, and that was great.
Really, the fact that they’d kept up copying the succulent pots, and the fact that the sap from them worked, had made James feel like he’d just let out a tensely held breath when it came to potion nonsense. They weren’t limited now. They didn’t have to choose. Every day, instead of one fruit they could process into a few potions, they got ten. Fifty. A hundred. More. More and more, as growth progressed and production ramped up. Enough for testing, for mapping out effects and not just scattershot guesses, for scaling up production of potions that healed, that improved, that solved bizarre corner case problems, that let the Order’s knights and researchers and rogues and friends and paladins operate at something slightly sideways and slightly above peak efficiency in their chosen fields.
James wondered how far they could push it. He also, upon hearing something from Sarah’s interview in the corner of his mind, drafted a quick alert to Research and the potion department to make absolutely fucking sure that no beans were allowed anywhere near the pots. And also to maybe split their growing operations into multiple sites. Quickly. Just in case.
Reed got back to him quickly, and said they were on it. Apparently there were a bunch of people with a few hours to kill before a delve who were still in the Lair, so a project like this sounded like a perfect distraction.
One by one, the group finished dinner. It was a little awkward to James; these were different people than he was used to, he didn’t know the protocol for saying goodnight exactly. So he decided to just declare that he was escaping, yawned halfway through, got a hissing laugh out of Dance, and headed off to take a shower. Which, fortunately, he could do without melting his stitches.
After scrubbing off the blood and dirt, he stepped out to cool off in the air conditioned room, feeling his temperature plummet from the blazing hot water he preferred for his showers. When he went back into the attached bedroom, though, he found Arrush sitting patiently on the end of the bed. Partly reading his book, but mostly waiting for James, since he set it aside as soon as he heard his new boyfriend coming.
Arrush was tall enough that he didn’t really have to tilt his head to look up at James, even from his seated position. But he did look properly nervous as he tried to meet James’ eyes, knowing that James could sense the discomfort as his own human smile faded. “Why?” Arrush asked. “You said… later. It’s later. Why?”
James paused in drying himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he sat down next to Arrush. Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and trying to not feel weird being mostly naked and slightly damp in an unfamiliar bedroom. He took the time to collect his thoughts, before answering Arrush’s question.
Why, really, had he let himself get hurt? Especially for someone who had already hurt him.
“The first time we brought other ratroaches out of the Sewer…” James paused just after starting, locking his eyes on one of the framed pictures of a generic beach on the shelf on the other side of the room. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Back then, Keeka surprised me in the hospital.” Arrush stilled at the mention of his partner’s name. “He… offered to kill them for us. Because they were going to hurt people, he said.” James looked down at his hands, clutched tightly together, the room quiet except for the whirr of the air conditioning for a minute. “I know that you know this, but Keeka thinks he’s a monster. He never stopped thinking it, I don’t think. He doesn’t… didn’t…” James paused, not sure where he was going with this.
Arrush filled in the gap. “He thinks… he is unforgivable.” He rasped out, half the words coming out as sad but understanding gasps.
James nodded. “Right.” He focused on keeping his breath steady. “So at the time, I… wanted to show him that everything was okay. And I tried to touch him.” Arrush tensed up, not having heard about this. “Nothing serious, just a pat on the shoulder. He bit me.” James chuckled, time having made the humor come easier. “Deb got pissed. At me, to be clear. Cause I was doing dramatic gestures in her hospital, and because Deb is smart, she had explicitly told me to not do exactly that. Keeka… I think it helped him get it, helped him understand. Sometimes we lash out, sometimes we hurt other people. That didn’t make him a monster, it made him someone who needed help. I got Nate to bandage up my arm and then sat with your boyfriend while he ate apology ice cream and I hope it made him see himself a little kinder.”
“I never… I didn’t know.” Arrush turned and looked away. “I thought… we told each other everything. I thought there wasn’t… I thought he would…”
“It’s very likely Keeka doesn’t want you to think that he’s hurting, because he thinks that would hurt you.” James told him. “Just like how you don’t tell him about how your body hurts you. And after hearing you whimper while you sleep, let me tell you, you are not weaseling out of fixing yourself now. If I have to take care of myself, so do you.”
“But you don’t. You aren’t. You let people hurt you.” Arrush countered. “The… Jeff? He cut you open. I can still smell your blood, you could have deh-died.” The ratroach curled forward, hands splayed out on the duvet around him like a stiff jellyfish. “Keeka… Keeka made a mistake. But you know it isn’t the same.” He sounded angry about it. Not hot fury, just a firm insistence that something was wrong.
And James understood. “I made a choice to take the risk.” He said. “Because human kids are idiots. And also because I believed that I could survive. I am… surprisingly hard to kill.” He laughed again, more lightly this time as he shifted his posture on the end of the bed. “I can get hurt, and live. I choose to let myself get hurt, to give other people a second chance. Or to help where I can. Or to put myself in the way. That’s a trade I’m willing to make.”
“Because you also don’t think you’re worth anything.” Arrush’s whisper was part realization, part horror. “Yh-you are… you are…” the arms on the right side of his body came off the bed as he turned, eyes watering with bitter liquid, to envelop James in a tight grip. “You’re like us.” Arrush squeaked out. “You th-hink you deserve this.”
James didn’t think that was quite correct. He was fine. He just… often felt like his main value came from how much he could do to help other people. And one of his ways of helping involved his own life being at risk, and his body being damaged. Which was…
Exactly the thing he kept telling Arrush to stop doing.
“When did you get so astute?” He tried to say, but found the words stuck partly in his throat as he let himself be crushed against Arrush’s hoodie, hard bands of chitin underneath the cloth pressing into his shoulder and cheek. He hadn’t even noticed. “You know what I actually miss though?” James said, blinking back his own hot tears. “I don’t even have scars from Keeka’s bite anymore.”
“Why…”
“Skin care potion.” James answered.
Arrush made a clicking growl. “...would you miss it?”
“Oh. I just… it’s… I don’t know, it’s a reminder maybe? It was a memento from doing something that maybe changed the course of what could have been. I’m missing all of them now. I don’t have the marks from my first strider bite, or from where I got sliced open rescuing all those people from the Office, or the first time I fought… well, you, actually. Did we ever apologize for that? God, I think Sarah blew one of your limbs off at one point.” He was rambling and he didn’t feel like he could stop himself.
“I don’t have any scars from it either.” Arrush said, shuddering at the intrusive memory of how much it had hurt to lose a leg, and then force it to grow back on raw instinct with the shaper substance. “Buh-but I don’t need them. I’m glad you don’t… have them. They itch.”
James found himself smiling, even as his shoulders started shaking and he found himself unable to breathe properly. It was that simple sometimes. They itched, get rid of them. A microcosm of what he wanted Arrush to do to himself, really. Your body hurts? Fix it! And… really… “I’m trying to be better.” James said, the words strained. “I really am. I know… I know I’m not exempt from the thing about people having value. I know. But that’s conflicting all the time with my worry that I might value myself too highly. That I might think I’m above everyone else.”
”You are.” Arrush said with a whisper that bordered on reverent in a way that made James deeply uncomfortable. “You are… better.” He insisted.
”Better is different than above.” James said, not caring if that sounded like nonsense. “Better is more like… I’m ahead. Like I can help people catch up. That’s fine. Above, though? Like something about what I am makes me superior? I hate that thought. It’s disgusting to me. It should be to you, too, cause I think you’ll see it as soon as I say it that this is how the Beautiful One thought. Thinks.” James sniffed, wiping the back of his arm across his eyes. “I can be an expert, I can be a hero, I can be a lot of things. But I can’t be more valuable than someone else. That’s not a line I can cross. Ever. I don’t think I’d be able to come back from that. So I refuse to do it.”
”…That’s why you’re better.” Arrush muttered.
James paused, not sure if the ratroach was being serious or messing with him. “Are you trying to cheer me up?” He asked.
”Yes. Is it working?”
”…Oddly? Yeah.” James gave a laugh that didn’t quite so much threaten to devolve into a sob. He did feel better. Lighter, just a bit. “This might have been a bad time for this. I’m exhausted, and my brain works badly when I’m tired. I shoulda followed Zhu’s example and just gone to bed two hours ago.”
”In the middle of a fight?” Arrush asked with a chittering giggle.
”Exactly. The best time for it, apparently.” James grinned, leaning on his friend. He took a breath of processed air, wedging his head against two of Arrush’s arms. “I need to sleep, before anxiety takes over. Either that or spend four hours staring at my phone.”
Arrush gently moved away from James, stood up, padded over to the nightstand with his springy steps, picked up James’ phone, and then moved it to the top of a shelf on the far side of the room. “No.” He said with what he hoped was a stern yet caring voice.
Since James started laughing, it probably didn’t come out that way. But it was a nice outcome anyway. “Alright, alright, I’m gonna sleep.” James stood and went back to trying to remove the dampness from his skin. “You should sleep too. But after you shower. You… smell like goat sludge.”
”I know.” Arrush nodded gently, antenna bobbing and getting stuck against his hood. “It smells sh-strangely pleasant.”
”…it smells like someone executed a coconut for treason.” James replied with narrowed eyes.
Arrush titled his muzzle up as he grinned and went to claim the shower now that it was empty. “The best smelling dungeon life so far!” He declared.
The worst part, James thought, as he crawled into the blankets and felt his eyes getting heavy almost instantly, was that Arrush was probably correct.