Bel: Visit even more rainbow drinkers.

Oh, it's going to be like that, is it? You shake out your arm, grit your teeth against the throb of your bruised shoulderblade, and get serious. Climbing fast when scouting a new route on an unknown surface is generally a terrible idea, but this rock is rough and not very crumbly, probably an ancient volcanic core. And you're experienced enough that testing each hold is an automatic movement that hardly slows you down, nor do you waste time freaking out when one crumbles, you've already got an alternative in mind.

With your focus narrowed to climbing and only climbing, you practically stroll up the cliff. Only when you reach the top do you look down to see if Erskin has managed to follow the route you demonstrated. He's a lot closer than you expected, but there's only so much strength and enthusiasm can do without skill. You consider dropping a rock on him, because fair play. But a fall from this height would definitely mess him up pretty bad, seadweller or no. Instead, you take a swig from your water bottle and then pour the rest on his head.

 

You sputter, growl, and then do the worst possible thing— you look straight up into the spray, and the rush of water across your face snaps your gills open. Wheezing— you were already short on breath, now you're out of it— you cling to your handhold as firmly as you can with one hand and smooth yourself down with the other. You've decidedly lost the race to the top and it's a wonder that the water soaking your hair and shoulders isn't steaming off with the sheer indignant force of your anger.

Bel is still watching you, grinning like a cacklebeast. You huffily climb sideways like a crab until you're under a bit of overhang, then resume catching your breath quietly.

 

"Did Hess and Grue tell you where to find me?" you say sweetly, enjoying his winded panting. Puncturing his overconfidence is a true joy every time. "They remember you fondly. Hess was like 'Did you find the little boy?' -- oh, by the way, would you like to hear why I went to them, and what I found out? Or just jump to conclusions some more?"

 

"I'll jump my boot down your insufferable throat," you snarl, and make the last dash up to the top in a furious burst. The position's no good for boxing— he towers over you, toes level with your horns, and isn't at all inclined to step back. So you sink your fangs into his ankle and yank his leg sideways as you haul yourself over the edge.

 

You did not have a plan for that. Even through your snakebite-proof hiking boots, that's gonna bruise, and now you're on the ground. Significantly less self-assured than before, you punch at his face and horns, trying to make him let go. You don't want to wrestle, that always leads to sex and nothing gets solved. You don't want to reward his dumbassery, no matter how much you missed him.

 

You growl, spit out the leather, and pounce on him properly, straddling his hips and leaning your hands on his shoulders.

"Yes, Kadros," you hiss. "I would bally well like to know why you fucking vanished on me for four days without so much as a note. The polite thing to do, I was informed, was to at least break up over the phone, and if we weren't breaking up then you have SOME NERVE HAULING ME AROUND ON A SHORT LEASH THEN TAKING OFF WHENEVER IT SUITS Y—"

There's a bandage on his throat.

"Who has you," you say flatly, and cup your hand over the mark. "Cloris is dead, who has you?"

 

"No one fucking has me, you tremendous hypocrite," you snarl, gripping his wrist like you don't trust him not to rip the bandage off, or maybe like you wish he would. "I wanted to understand what happened to you. And it's not like I turned my phone off -- or threw it away, or sent it to the other side of the world, holy shit how do you think you have any moral high ground here?"

 

"Oh, fuck off, you never answered a single call, 'didn't turn my phone off' my royal ass," you sniff, and tilt his jaw to the side, examining. A dark, possessive, growling thing buzzes in your chest— he's yours to tear up, yours to hurt.

"You hate rainbowdrinkers," you tell him. "You went and slaughtered quite a lot of them and now— what, I'm expected to believe you just suddenly sat down for tea with a few? Are you sure you're— and no one— you know, in—" you twiddle your free hand around your horns. "You're really alright?"

(oof i think i am snooze very soon)

 

"Would you believe any answer I gave? Welcome to where I spent the past week, jerkass." You give him a hard shove so you can sit up. "Yes, I'm all right, and you would be too if Cloris hadn't been an abusive creepo! That's what I learned, are you ready to listen now? Getting bitten just feels like you've taken too much cold medicine if the one biting you isn't fucking around in your head!"

 

You make a sort of resentful grumbly noise and tuck your face against his shoulder. Even when you've come to something like the same conclusions it's hell having to actually agree with him.

"I tried to tell you why, for me, how it was. Is. You don't listen either, I was trying. I don't get all the words out properly enough, but you could stand to, to, I don't know, puzzle it all out with me."

You nudge his jaw with a rough-cracked horn. It smarts but you know that's got to itch at him, also— "I tried drinking, I tried smoking, I tried sex and conciliation and bloody medicine, I tried everything I could think of and it— it wasn't at all like— god, I needed it, and I wanted it too, it's so bloody peaceful. It's so good not to have to, to, to fret on what to do with myself. And you— you're so brave, you're so steady, you didn't come out of your adventures all smashed up, how are you supposed to want anymore peace and quiet than you already have on your own? You with your great big thunderbird lusus and your, your hatchmate moirail and your— you read books, you drink tea, you like that sort of thing—"

You've gone embarrassingly messy. You huff, settle closely against him, and nip the other side of his throat.

"But you're shit at running," you say gruffly. "I found you in a day once I went looking. You ought to be ashamed."

 

You hug him tight and pull his hair a little, pretending you're not suddenly kind of choked up. "I wasn't trying to get away from you, stupid. I told you, I was looking for solutions, because I did listen to you. I know you need it, or you need something, anyway, and this is what you've got. That's why I had to let Grue bite me. And -- this, I wasn't looking for, but it happened -- when I didn't like it, she stopped. Just... mid-bite. And she was pissed as hell at me for being surprised." You chuckle ruefully. "The point is, with a drinker who's not trying to keep you on a leash, that codeine peace is all you get."

 

"I liked Aurora," you grumble. "She didn't give half a damn about leashes, for all the two of you fussbeasts went into an unholy flap about her— and— and I told you, they don't take the unwilling. You have to ask."

You think about it for a minute, then admit lowly, "Cloris had me beg her, most times. I thought she was just making sure I was sure. But I suppose that was just one more bit that wasn't alright. "

(ok gnight)

 

"Aurora talked like she was doing you a favor. She -- oh stop with the 'they don't take the unwilling' shit, you were there when Jethro --" You stop yourself, shake your head sharply. Stay on target. "Aurora was in such a hurry to walk away after she got what she wanted, she's not good enough for you. These drinkers like you, they remembered you and asked after you. And don't pretend you think I'm blurring quadrants here, I told you I want to be the only bad thing that happens to you." Since you can't bite him without triggering his submission reflex, you flick his cheek with a claw.

Reluctantly, you add, "Some of that bunch think some guy named Heinrich is the best solution, but Hess says he's awful and won't explain why. I wanted to check him out first."

(i should sleep too, seeya morrows)

 

"Ow! Go fuck yourself! I'm certainly not about to defend that attack on Jethro, that was monstrous," you say heatedly. "And as for Aurora, now who's hopping off to conclusions? She fixed up all the mess Cloris left on me, she drove me home personally, and she watched until I was in my moirail's arms before taking her leave of quadrantmates I had assured her up and down would blow her brains out should she cross them. The fact she didn't stroll in arm-and-arm with me and sit down for a nice how-d'you-do interrogation hardly disqualifies her from the ranks of 'good enough' for anyone."

You hmf. "I've never heard of anyone named Heinrich, isn't that too many letters?"

 

"Ugh, fine," you grumble to his defense of Aurora. "I only know what Jethro said, and also you were so blitzed I could've tossed you out the window and you would've gone 'whee!' all the way down."

Regarding Heinrich: "I think so, and Hess and Grue are too few. So I'm assuming these aren't the names the Imperial Database knows them by. Probably his name's Heinrich the way mine's Bel and yours is Troubleface."

 

"Pity that isn't eight letters, I wouldn't mind being known for troubling your face," you say, and manage to bap his nose with the side of one of your horns. "Ha!"

You let him fight you off a bit and then relax again. "Well— I shouldn't mind going to meet him, though I'm awfully glad you didn't go off on your own and get me handfasted to some appropriately worthy stranger right under my nose. I'd have knocked your teeth out for it, you've got such terrible taste in men."

 

"Case in point," you grin, and goose him.

"I wasn't going to offer you to the guy or something, yeesh, that is like the opposite of what I consider okay. I just figured if he turns out to be a psycho, it's better he does his psycho thing on someone hyperalert and armed for cholerbear, rather than on The Astounding Muzzle-Loader who trips merrily tee-hee into the arms of the first rainbow drinker he can find, and doesn't see why the party of the first part might be a little bit goddamn freaked out by this."

((bel i think that sentence ran away from you and wrapped its leash around a tree))

 

"By all means continue serenading me in such dulcet tones, that definitely sets the mood," you say, waggling your ass against his scandalously improprietous hands. "Here, let's have the bit about how I never plan ahead and don't floss my fangs and never remember all the verses of Hail To The Empress Transcendent, what?"

 

"Nobody remembers all the verses of Hail To The Empress Transcendent," you point out reasonably.

 

"I have terrible taste in men too, apparently," you say. "Let's not go visit Heinrich, we're both awful people and anyway I think I mostly like ladies in the flushed sort of fashion. Oh— oh, I say, I almost forgot, look!" You roll your wrist to change your new double-equipped wrist cuff into a cane— a lovely understated thing of matte-black steel, with a nice leather wrist-loop so you can't drop it.

"I've a canekind strifecard now," you say, pleased. "That makes four in the 'deck. No— hold up— five. I've got riflekind as well, I just never use it." You grin at him.