Novels2Search
The Elevation Chronicles [Grim/Dark/Lit-RPG/Feels]
Chapter 54 – Employee OH&S Comes First

Chapter 54 – Employee OH&S Comes First

Benjamin – Gamma Zone #22 Level 51 - 79

You have entered Gamma Zone #22 Level 51 - 79

Willing away the notification, the one of me not on danger watch or motion preparedness, marvels at the giant Cacti and their vibrant fire colored flowers, defended by a nasty array of spikes and barbs that would put a sewing needle factory to shame. The one of me on hazard duty reports no immediate threats as I step clear of the terminus and the delinquent’s stream through with barely a delay whilst animatedly brandishing their equipment.

Still not finding any monsters around after they have finished their egress, a me shrugs and cancels the portal skill, whilst they look to their leader for what to do next.

Like many times before on these excursions, Toni begins to call out Party Leaders names and reminds them at length to use their [Communication Necklace], should shit hit the proverbial fan. After which she instructs them to head in separate directions and begin the 24 hour grind’a’thon that they refer to as ‘Monster Mayhem’.

When this first took place and I took them to a Beta Zone, I was collectively quietly terrified that there would be casualties, given at how squishy they had seemed in the short and punchy induction program I had put them through. Thankfully though teenagers they may still be, idiots they are not, as I have yet to save a single soul from getting bitch slapped by biting off more than they can chew.

Granted they are sticking to zones equal to their levels, but still…if I was their age and had been shoved into this type of life, I don’t think I would have made it even a couple of hours.

Putting my previous potential inadequacies aside, two of me move me to the top of a white rocky outcrop to assume my over watch duties as best I can. Waving jovially to the unimpressed glare Toni is giving me, another me summons an access point to my [Lesser Dimensional Pocket] and wills out the [Sturdy Deck Chair] that I recently purchased from the Auction House, and makes to relax into it as it groans in protest.

Sufficiently impressed that the contraption manages to support my largess, I will out a [Bottle of Hej’in Juice] to pretend like I need actual cold sustenance of any form. And whilst the others roast under a scorching sun, me myself and I suffer no noticeable ill effects on my body temperature or skin carcinogenic levels whatsoever.

Still, the more this apocalyptic event for the planet earth and its people progresses, the more I find that its important to honor my human origins. It also helps that it irritates my employees to no end as one shouts it a New Zealand accent.

“Toni he’s doing it again! You promised he wasn’t gonna do it this time! How’s he supposed to protect us when he’s sitting around like that anyway!?!”

Grinning at the youth’s ire, I collectively ignore the meritorious urge to correct him of his lacking safety, and continue to luxuriate in the chair for another few moments until it buckles under me.

One of me whips me to my feet and my [Robe of The Crushed Keneticist] struggles to keep pace with my abrupt change of place. Dutifully ignoring the jeers and catcalls from the soon to be unemployed, I elect to instead stare accusatorily at the broken remains of the not so [Sturdy Deck Chair], Lamenting the loss of the 25 Manamotes it cost.

Feeling like I’m about to develop a body image problem, the triumvirate settles for fuming in place for several hours while the delinquents range around the white stone studded sandy surrounds and engage in combat with monstrous varieties of desert based reptilian life.

The suns resplendent rays begin to wane as the cool of Gamma Zone #22’s night makes to reclaim the landscape for a chilly few hours.

If these kids were of the average variety, they would by all accounts be on their last legs by now, but as I’ve come to expect from them, they are just getting started.

While there have been several injuries incurred by their number, none have been decommissioned in the slightest, thanks in no small part to the few healing classes strategically positioned amongst them. It also doesn’t hurt that they are all about mid-level 60 in their main class’s and in the early 40’s for their secondary’s according to Toni’s proud boasting, two weeks prior.

Thus they pull out various forms of illumination and continue their controlled culling’s of Manabeast’s in the dying light, several hundreds of meters away from my vantage. And as bored as I have become, I can do little but keep scanning their Party’s surrounds for any sign of potential danger, lest I become a man who’s word is worthless.

Flashes of light strobe and flare in the night, from the bluish white of ice shards, to the vibrant red of flame as they illuminate monstrous mongooses of all things.

Although the zone is safely within the delinquents level range, I brought them here mainly because I have barely had a chance to explore the place myself, only discovering it by way of following Greeny, whilst Siphon grinding.

So when the things initially made their appearance I was just as amazed as the young’uns at their cute and furtive behavior.

First they would just poke their fuzzy, oversized heads into the Partys’ [Mage-light Stone]’s field of light only to dart it back out. When the Party’s had grown complacent to the behavior, some of the girl’s and even a boy proclaiming them as ‘too adorable to kill’ over the course of their reconnoitering, was exactly when the beasts saw fight to commence their campaign of guerrilla warfare.

I watched in bemusement when the first of their fuzzy number leapt from the shadows, to barrel into an unprepared caster and rip their arm of, only to dart back into the darkness, leaving the screaming girl fountaining blood onto the now frost covered sand, while her Party frantically called for a healer over a [Communication Necklace]. One of me couldn’t help but chuckle as more cries of alarm went up into the night, as the clever critters began to move as one against their prey.

Sufficiently fed up with standing around, two of me moved me to where Toni’s Party had just barely staved off a decapitation by scoring a hit on the oversized Mongooses eye.

The already alarmed teens collectively jumped with the sound of the sonic boom and the rush of wind accompanying my appearance. Toni ineffectually managed to swing her lethal looking mace at my head before I plucked it from her deceptively firm grasp, while I felt an arrow splinter into the side of my white unkempt sideburns.

Dusting the wood shards from my hair and passing the livid Aboriginal girl back her mace, the me on face time queried with a hint of a smirk.

“You guys need me to step in?”

More yelling in the near distance, fills the night air, before harried calls for a healer from another of their Party’s comes through the [Communication Necklace] around Toni’s neck.

Giving me an undeserved gesture with her shield hand she snap’s.

“Not a damn chance Benji! We came ta grind an level! Besides, ya know tha rules, until I ask ya fer help, ya hav ta stay outa our fights!”

Mildly disappointed that after a year since their induction, I still haven’t had a reasonable excuse to show the kids the full extent of our power gap. I elect to put on my big boy pants and go back to over watch duty, contenting myself with the screams of victory and distress emanating from my stubbornly competent charges.

The change occurs when one of me is internally bemoaning the lack of persecutory voices and intrusive thoughts, due to the newish blandness of my mindscape. Another me is countering the whinier me, with a highlights reel of fractious memories and emotions of just a few years ago from when I was ‘stable’ and they both concur that indeed being bored is the better of the two evils.

It’s at this point that the me on watch draws attention to the distinct lack of combative sounds coming from anywhere around me.

Looking to each Party in turn I see that, though worse for wear, my minions are all upright and accounted for though similarly perturbed by the lack of combat. All of me watch with interest as they talk amongst themselves via [Communication Necklace] before deciding to have a small break to eat, drink and be wary.

It’s only ten or so minutes into the eerily becalmed night that the tide of multi-legged abominations arrive.

The first to raise the alarm is the Party at the most western point, as they the heinous looking crosses between scorpions and spiders roughly the size of full grown sheep, flood into their circle of Mage-light.

The things have the front body of a spider with sharp spike tipped limbs, but where one would expect a bulbous abdomen to be, instead rises a segmented and chitinous tail, on the end of which rests a singular claw that looks like it could scythe a cow in half with but a moment.

The Party in question reacts quickly, managing to keep the arachnid conglomerates at bay by downing two of their number only for them to be pounced on by their brood mates and consumed with gut curdling, squelching sounds.

The teens beat a hasty retreat due to the sheer number and unsightly appearance of the enemy, when the northern Party falls under attack from the same threat.

Toni has the forethought to call a tactical retreat toward my location when her Party in the easterly direction encounters the same menacing foes, having understood their numbers to be in the hundreds.

The night is alive once more as flashes of magical abilities and cries of warning and distress fill it while the teens competently fall back, surgically downing the arachnid hybrids to cannibalistically slow their advance.

Universally impressed that they have not left a single one of their friends behind against the numerous and deadly foe, save only for a limb or two… At the same time I feel inappropriate glee blossom at the chance to finally kill some shit and display my true power level to my employees.

It takes the delinquents only a few short minutes to regroup in a panting and battered huddle at the base of my outcrop, whilst Toni screams at me.

“OPEN THA DAMN PORTAL L’READY BENJI!”

Looking to the young woman in shock, one of me asks while a tinge of horror creeps into my voice.

“There’s only like a couple of them I’ll just clean them up quickly! Besides what about the fucking manamotes!?!”

Her eyes bulge as the tip of their swarm chitters, as it enters the mage-light.

Turning to me in alarm her chocolate skin somehow manages to go red as she screams.

“THIS AINT NO TIME TA PLAY THA HERO, YA DICKHEAD! THERE’S THOUSANDS O EM, NOT EVEN YOU COU-“

Ignoring her unladylike ravings, and refusing to let the chance to display my prowess go to waste, two of me move me to the leading bug and place my fist where its many eyes used to be:

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 63, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

301 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb the Lesser Acidic Blood trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.

Willing away the notifications and vehemently intoning ‘NO’ for the trait prompt, I looked in dismay at the corrosive blood covering my recently donned robe. Relegating my attire as a non-tax deductible write off, its green ichor splatters the frosted sandy ground in the mini crater around me, before I turn my annoyance against its kin.

The me’s make short work of their brood mates who are tensing in slow motion to leap on the split remains I created, then follow up with the ones behind for good measure as more notifications flit past my line of sight:

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 61, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

271 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

...

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 64, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

320 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

....

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 62, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

289 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

.....

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 67, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

303 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

I collectively ignore the hissing of corrosive liquid on the tattered remains of my attire as one of me notes that I’m still too close to my frantically shouting minions to activate my skills safely and push deeper into the swarm that’s drawn to the slaughtered corpses I leave in my wake:

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 62, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

239 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

...

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You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 64, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

318 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

....

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 61, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

305 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

.....

You have slain a Juvenile Scarifier level 66, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

299 Manamotes acquired from Juvenile Scarifier.

Willing away the fresh string of notification’s, I note I’m surrounded by the growing wall of corpses I have hewn and decide the distance from the teens is enough to finally cut loose.

Tossing a wholly Scarifier into the air I pay no minds to the already leaping arachnids as a me casts a max increase [Lesser Gravidic Focal Point] on the airborne carapace and let out my manliest giggle. The swarm that’s almost on top of me, plus the wall of corpses, and some unlucky cacti, make a floating ball of green and black arachnoid gumbo.

Sticking my hand into the sizzling and growing conglomerate, my manamote total makes a sizeable leap as a new deluge of notifications scroll past my vision and I have to retreat lest I end up subsumed into its rapidly expanding radius.

Figuring I better downsize the thing as it begins to make contact with the ground, a me casts [Lesser Dimensional Absence] at where my [Gravidic Sense] tells me the center of my skills field is. Smiling at the sound like a large bathtub draining that signifies the momentary removal of the arachnoid goop from my field of vision.

A moment of panic takes hold as I realize the new notifications scrolling past are from un-looted kills, causing me to almost cry at the manamotes that are being hovered into nothingness. Cancelling [Lesser Dimensional Absence] my collective glee reasserts itself as the horrific things fly helplessly overhead while I allow the miniature arachnid moon to form as I wait for its unhealthily undulating and sizzling surface to expand.

I’m unsure how much time passes as I rinse and repeat the process several times, intermittently focusing an eye on the huddle of teens at the base of my lookout, to confirm they are unaffected by the ongoing gravitational based carnage, as they seem to even have enough time for their healers to regrow their injured’s lost limbs.

All good things must come to an end however, as the impotent tide of Scarifier’s comes to an abrupt halt.

Waiting for a few seconds one of me releases a redundant sigh, before one of me points out that I just gained 251,632 manamotes and to stop being a greedy son of a bitch. Meanwhile the one of me on danger watch reports no new threats have manifested while the rest of the triumvirate has been arguing about what should be considered a respectable amount of new world moolah.

It only takes two several more seconds of healthy internal democracy before they take me back to the still jumpy teens.

A couple of spells and arrows thud into me as I appear next to their leader while she yet again, tries and fails to brain me with her trusty mace.

Smirking at the apoplectic teen, she apparently takes it as an invitation to launch into a temper tantrum.

“WHERE THA FUK HAV U BEEN! WE WAZ WORRIED SICK AN THEN WE KEPT HEARING THIS DISGUSTIN SUCKIN SOUND AN….Wait…where are ur-”

Silence descends on the gathering of delinquents as some of them cover their eyes or look away, faces like beetroots, while others openly stare at me like I just proved that cake is real.

Their leader falls into the latter category of slack jawed dish eyed caricatures, forcing a me to inquire whilst narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

“What?….what’s wrong with you lot?”

Words fail their leader as she just waves her hand up and down weakly to indicate something, while a black leather clad, red faced single handed mace wielder with blond hair, cracks her hand open slightly that she’s using to poorly shield her eyes as she stammers in a Canadian accent.

“W-w-what happened to y-your clothes?”

Looking down at my exposed birthday suit, the reason for their recent behavior starts to make a bit more sense.

I collectively feel a pit in my stomach open up as I realize I just effectively exposed myself to minors who are also my employee’s.

Already hearing the police siren’s in the distance, a me opens mr dimensional pocket and wills out a fresh set of [Elevant’s Essential Gear] and [Robe of The Vaunted Mage] whilst another me mumbles as I hurriedly dress.

“S-s-sorry about that guys, it was the acidic blood….I-I didn’t mean to…s-sorry…”

After my magnificence is sufficiently recovered and several more mumbled expressions of regret are made, an awkward silence descends on us.

It seems to stretch forever when thankfully a rumbling and quaking of the ground saves me from more of the silent indignity as two of me move me nearer to the burgeoning head of something large and reflective.

What little light there is, plays across its prismatic surface while the thing punches through the white stone bedrock of the Gamma Zone with a wickedly sharp protuberance.

The ground explodes upwards and outwards in large chunks, a few of which the power of jolly cooperation intercepts for my slow to react minions, as the thing swiftly tries to clear a large enough hole to exit its subterranean dwelling.

Looking to the teens cowering defensively behind bubbles of skills and metal shields, I shake my head at their limited ability to counteract even the side effects of the things entrance.

One of me points out that this is an opportunity to rehabilitate myself in their eyes as two of me move to just outside their defensive bubbles and swat away some slow moving skills and arrows, before asking.

“So you guys want to get some easy experience?”

A nonplussed Toni screams back over the sound of splitting rock and flying stone.

“WADYA MEAN EASY?!? WAT THA BLOODY HELLS’ GOIN ON?!?”

Smashing a flying boulder into smaller white constituents that ping off the domes in front of me, one of me points out that they don’t have night vision like I do, before it smacks my head theatrically and replies.

“My bad, I totally forgot you guys can’t see in the dark!... So anyway, there is a large something busting through the earth right in front of us and all you guys have to do is score a hit on it and then I’ll just kill it…Sound good?”

Looking at me incredulously as two of me swat another errant boulder into bits as she demands.

“HOW THA FUK ARE WE SPOSED TA HIT IT IF WE CAN’T BLOODY SEE IT?”

Scrunching up my thinking face one of me comes up with the brilliant idea of scattering some [Mage-light Stones] around it so the delinquents can make it out and I command.

“Gimmie like 6 of your light stones!”

She blinks before she hastily gathers them from her subordinates and throws them toward me and I pluck them out of the air while a boulder smacks into my back. Contrary to what one would generally expect to happen, the thing rebounds as opposed to sending me flying while my feet dig into the sand up to my knees. Used to the weird physics of my new body by now I ignore the shocked faces of the black clad teens as two of me make a b-line for the thing that’s halfway free from the white and sand strewn bedrock.

Getting closer to it as I wait for it to get clear, I collectively recognize the spider like head now visible as its deadly claw, strikes again and again at the nuisance still in its way.

Guessing this is mamma Scarifier, I wonder why she is all sparkley and stuff though that line of thought is halted as it leaps to drift in mid air from the fresh burrow only to land where I would have been with a zone rumbling thud, had two of me not moved my body about fifty meters to its left.

Casting half strength [Increase Gravity] on the thing with a mass that would likely put a blue whale to shame, I ensure it can no longer make with the leapy leapy. Sufficiently grounding it a me infuses and studs the white stone around its quivering pointed limbs with [Mage-light Stones], which leads to a dazzling collide-a-scope of colors to play across its carapace as it screeches indignantly.

Moving me back to the transfixed teens a me prompts.

“So you gonna shoot it or….”

Jumping at my appearance they even forgo trying to kill me as their gazes travel back to the screeching prismatic behemoth, shining like the psychedelic nightmare it is.

Toni is the first to recover as she barks out barely quavering orders to the Party Leaders, and they drop their defensive skills as one and advance on the struggling monster, while I shadow them in their cautious approach.

When they reach within a hundred meters of the thing Toni turns to me and asks.

“C-can you distract it so the melee guys can get a hit?”

Seeing no issue with her request, me’s move me to in front of the shuddering arachnid and meeting its eyes that look like mesmerizing diamonds, I have a collective nanosecond of doubt, wondering if I really need to kill something so beautiful.

However the moment vanishes as the thing makes a juddering, slow motion lunge at me with fangs that have a sickly green sheen and look like they belong to a ginormous fucking viper.

At the last split second I universally master my arachnophobic tendencies and don’t crater its head with my fist of righteous pummeling. Instead dodging to the side, I pick up a chest sized white rock that feels like it weighs the same as a Styrofoam replica and bash the things overextended head downwards, making the nasty looking fangs sink harmlessly into the stone below, like a hot knife through butter.

Just when I think I’m done I catch the blur of movement from its tail as the thing nears me a great deal quicker than the things lunge. Recasting [Increase Gravity] at three quarter strength on it, two of me dodge to the right again as the wickedly clawed tail point, snaps in slow motion where I once was.

Seeing no harm in a little bug grooming, I punch directly below the claws base and the crystal like surface of the tail shatters like a shotgun blast away from me in acid green liquid and glass like shards.

The still snapping prismatic claw that’s twice as long as I am tall, spurts acidic blood in slow motion as it dances in front of its owners head which releases another screech that sends one of me into a full body ASMR reaction, whilst one of me turns to the wary teens and cajoles.

“Aaaaaaanytime your ready?”

In response spells and arrows alike, fly at the subdued monster.

While their allies let out incoherent battle cries whilst they charge and leap toward the juddering hulk. One or two are flicked away by giant shifting limbs, and aside from some broken bones and nasty gashes, they look like they will live to whine another day.

Standing to the side of the beast as the teens try to wail on the captive creature, I have to cover my mouth so as not to be seen laughing at their feeble attempts at piecing the things crystalline carapace.

They too seem to have noticed their lack of progress and some of the more canny members have taken to shooting at the flailing tail that is missing its pincer and still spewing acid.

After about twenty seconds more they concede defeat as Toni commands.

“PULL BACK YA BUGGERS!”

Not needing to be told twice they beat a hasty, if disheveled retreat, taking themselves and the few wounded to the still illuminated spire of stone, atop which rests the remains of a completely misleadingly named chair.

Tempted to end the things struggle from afar, but intrigued to see what trait the massive thing has to offer, some of me moved my body to just behind where its refractive eyes resided. Stamping downward with a leather booted foot, my magical foot ware igniting from the friction right before the carapace comes into contact with the flames it created and shatters under my foots force.

Acidic blood and shards of its outer layer sprayed out from the point of impact as a me plunges my leg, knee deep, into what feels a lot like a sink hole. The arachnid shudders beneath me for a moment as the caustic smell of dissolving fabric and hide fills my nostrils as I realize my nostril moss has dissolved as well before I extricate my now naked leg. Following which the triumvirate springs into democratic debate at the new prompt:

You have contributed to the slaying of a Matron Scarifier level 76, no experience awarded due to level disparity.

18,205 Manamotes acquired from Matron Scarifier.

Parasitic Mutator trait activated, do you wish to absorb the Prismatic Exoskeleton trait y/n? 4 minutes 59 seconds remaining.

Ignoring the cheers and whoops coming from the delinquents the many me’s start to weight the pro’s and cons of becoming diamonds.

Pros:

*Become Diamond

*Increased Defense

*Shiny

*Portable Disco

*Make Taric Jelly

*Never Need A Can Opener Again

Cons:

*Might Look Like A Twilight Vampire

*Lose A Trait

*Could Loose Important Sensations In Important Organs

*Would Visibly Be More Non-human

So after a brief and wholly speculative round of internal bickering a me dejectedly intones ‘No’ to the offered trait and after a passing glance of the corpse beneath me I elect to dimensionally pocket the stinger for a trophy, if nothing else. My inner mercenary sufficiently placated, a me diligently re-stuff’s my nostrils with tufts of [Green Doi’Kol Moss] before two of me move myself to my still celebrating minions.

They flinch as one at the sound of my appearance and the rush of wind, some reflexively and far too slowly going for weapons.

Universally ignoring their agitation a me inquires of their leader.

“So we done here?”

Blinking as if to process what going on, Toni takes a moment to pause and look to the others, receiving a multitude of enthusiastic nods for the most part, while only a couple show signs of disagreement by shaking their heads.

After doing a silent accounting of opinions, she turns and confirms, almost thankfully.

“Yea we’re done for tha night bossman, do ya portal thingo already!”

Quietly thankful to have gotten out of chaperone duty after only what is probably 16 or so hours, a me summons my [Lesser Dimensional Portal] with their storefront in mind. Meanwhile another me looks despondently at my now ruined set of [Elevent’s Essential Gear] and [Robe of The Vaunted Mage] and wonder if it’s not better to forgo the spell bonus’s robes provide for having not to change attire after every mildly interesting fight.

Shelving that internal debate, one of me notes that half the now oddly respectful delinquents are yet to enter the portal and I internally grouch at not being able to change my clothing yet, lest I expose myself to minors again.

The last one is about to go through when instead of going through, her face flushes as she turns to face me.

Recognizing her as the five ft nothing Canadian girl who pointed out my state of undress, a me quirks an eyebrow questioningly at her while she balls the fist not gripping her mace.

Seeming to come to some decision, she lifts her head, while her blonde hair bobs and looks me squarely in the eye as she stammers.

“S-so Benjamin, I-I’ve been meaning to ask, would you like t-to get a drink some time?”

The question unanimously catches me off guard and a me blurts out.

“What!? I don’t even know your name and your still like….Wait, how old are you anyway?”

Her self-consciousness demeanor evaporates as annoyance takes residence on her face, whilst she snaps back defiantly.

“My names Olivia and I’ll be 18 in the next two fucking months!”

An emergency meeting of the triumvirate is convened, first like all things biological the physical compatibility is considered.

Attractiveness is gauged and her face is cute, yet not irritating, while her physique outlined by the tight fitting attire outstrips that of professional athletes by a giga-mile.

Size is compared and found to be a sorry mismatch, then durability and stamina is tabulated and alarmingly, despite not intending to go there. A me surmises that even a single heavily constrained thrust might cause her great peril and shatter the poor girl’s under-enhanced body, let alone her ability to match my endurance.

Then there is the unsightly issue of my lethal climax…

A heartbeat later higher reasoning wins out and age difference is compared.

Nearly half my age is also not encouraging and while waiting a month for my old world hang-ups to be appeased, basic conversation might be a chore.

Tangentially, why does it even have to be about sex at all, why can’t I just have a smol friend instead?

The emergency session results in a hedging of bets and a me answers to the fumingly attractive, not quite yet lady.

“How about when you reach 18, we can start hanging out a littl-“

But she cuts me off.

“What!?! No you weirdo, I don’t want to be friends, I was thinking more along the lines of not friends but with benefits…“

Putting up a hand in a placating gesture a me counters.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea here, I mean, I’m like your boss, and your super young. Besides can’t we just try and be frie-“

This seems to infuriate her further as she rebukes.

“I’m not looking for a friend you grey skinned freak! And even if I was it wouldn’t be with you! Urgh, just pretend I never said anything!”

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she storms red faced into the portal. One of me begins to recite Martin Luther King’s ‘I Have A Dream’ speech while I blink confusedly in an effort to figure out what the hell just happened. Still absolutely clueless about the opposite sex and apparently lacking the intelligence or wisdom to piece their shroud of inscrutability.

Another of me begins to bemoan the fact that this far into the apocalypse of mankind, despite the popular literature on the subject, I still do not have a harem or even my childhood sweetheart for bunk mates. Crikey, at this point I would even settle for a trusty cadre of friends and allies, but nooooo, all I get are some bitchy teenagers and a green fucking arrow!

I release a sigh and shake my head before giving the still active portal the evil eye, however the portal seems impervious to my death stare.

Instead I turn an attention to the dead silent Zone before the triumvirate elects to cancel the portal skill and stay in the field for a while to relieve some stress. One of me points out that this also has the benefit of postponing the meeting with that merchant guy a little longer.

Perking up slightly at the prospect of not having to deal with people in the immediate future, one of me changes into the black and green tinted, spikey [Full Plate of The Immovable Fau’Dak] and begins to field a half smile.

That is right up until another me can't help but recollect the song, No Sex For Ben by The Rapture. Unable to maintain the faltering we collectively huff as the earworm cements its hold on our brains.

Attempting to remain productive in the face of this freshly self inflicted assault, the obviously cumbersome intent of the armor barely impedes our progress toward the nearest Dimensional Siphon. And we try to take minor comfort from the fact that despite everything else, our silent and trustworthy green friend has yet to abandon us, whilst it faithfully guides our earth shattering passage.