Word Count: 700
Summary: Attzi is trying to clear her head, something which is harder to do these days.
Warnings: slight blood
@daily-writing-challenge
Attzi was in the jungle outside of Booty Bay, working on an old, familiar ore seam in the hopes of finding some gems for her father. That, and she could always use more copper to make wires for The Machine.
…Did she just think that in capitals? That was proof that it was taking on a life of its own. That was part of the reason she was out here; and every time she worked on it she went mining afterward, because it helped her think.
She’d been doing a lot of mining over the past couple of years, because of all the thinking she’d felt was necessary. She swung her pickaxe with a grunt, slamming it down on the bare rock before her, and then took a deep breath, wiping sweat off her forehead. Maybe too much mining. Her shirts were getting tight in the sleeves, and she’d seen her back in the bathroom mirrors the other day and it had made her double-take.
But this was the only productive way she had to work out her fear and frustration.
She adjusted her grip on the pickaxe again. Breathe. Swing. Crack! Breathe. Swing. Crack! As she fell back into the rhythm of the work, her mind quieted just enough to think clearly.
The Machine was almost done. It crouched like a living thing in her workroom, drawing her thoughts to it more and more often. Attzi had spent the past three years testing each of the components individually, sometimes with Kappi, sometimes with Burnie, sometimes on her own. The energy sink, which her cousin Fyx’s prototype had sadly lacked, was working perfectly. She was hoping that would prevent the thing from exploding like it had for him, and like it had for Burnie. The wiring was flawless, and made from copper enchanted to draw magic and power through it more effectively, which would hopefully prevent any of the components from being overloaded and failing. The case was dark iron, as a last ditch effort to keep the explosion contained if it turned out she’d miscalculated somewhere.
Attzi liked machinery, and wires, and gears. She trusted her watch, which she always had on her. She trusted the robot that made sure her front door was locked. She did not trust The Machine, and was very worried about what was going to happen when she finally hit the button.
Breathe. Swing. Crack– “Fuck!” she hissed, dropping the pickaxe and raising a hand to her cheek. Her fingers came back dotted in blood. A stray shard of rock had ricocheted and hit her in the face while she wasn’t paying attention to where she was swinging.
She dipped her clean hand into her pocket as she sucked the blood from the fingers of her other, pulling out her watch and clicking the button, focusing in on her cheek. Within seconds, the wound had closed. She knelt for her pack, seeking the clean cloth she was sure she’d brought with her.
The timing of that stray bit of rock felt too much like an omen for Attzi’s comfort. She looked back over her shoulder as she wiped her cheek clean, through the jungle to where Booty Bay was. She’d been trying for the past several years to convince herself that finishing The Machine wasn’t worth the risk to the city, or the surrounding area. Nothing had worked. It was very possible that she was going to widen the bay and leave a new crater in Stranglethorn Vale if this went wrong.
These days, nightmares about that sort of scenario were frequent.
She needed to know what happened to her cousin. She needed to know why he’d built the thing in the first place. And she felt terrible that finding out was worth the risk to herself, and Kappi, and Burnie, her home, and possibly an entire city of innocent bystanders.
You just have to trust yourself. You’ve gone slow. You’ve checked all the components.
Attzi tossed the bloody cloth on top of her pack and picked up her pickaxe, gripping it firmly as she returned to the seam.
Breathe. Swing. Crack. She kept going until she was out of breath, until her muscles ached, until her mind finally went blissfully, blessedly silent.
Word count: 600
Summary: After the guild trip to the hot springs, Attzi enjoys some warmth back at home.
Warnings: ...Fluff
@daily-writing-challenge
Attzi was resting on her bed, knees up, using her legs as a makeshift desk as she scribbled the day’s summary down into her notebook. Her tiny Everlook room felt very different than her home in Booty Bay; instead of salt air and the constant sound of waves, there was the silence of thick walls insulated by snow. Her bed was covered in a thick, fluffy duvet which didn’t match the flannel sheets underneath. On the far wall, a shelf held more books than was likely safe, as well as a few tattered plushies. A box by the door had half-finished projects she’d practiced with as a child in the family lab. The floor had a thick, but well-worn rug, faintly stained from art supply mishaps. Even the pajamas she was wearing were comfortably faded.
Being here didn’t make her feel like a kid again, but it did make her feel comfortable. Her home had always been a safe place to both live in, and come back to. Honestly, as old as she was, her parents could have easily converted it to a guest bedroom by now, but they had never even suggested it. Attzi knew that if necessary her room would be waiting, and her parents would be glad to have her for as long as she needed.
She was about halfway through describing being knocked off the fallen log during their snowball fight for the third time when a soft tapping sounded at her window. She tucked her pen behind her ear and clambered off the bed, taking the two steps necessary to get to the window. Pushing back the insulating curtain, she grinned at the familiar face on the other side of the glass.
Attzi pushed the window open. “Ya made it!”
“Hello again, love.”
“How was the rest a th’ social?”
She stepped aside to allow Kappi room to climb in, which he did with far more grace than she ever had managed. He turned and shut the window behind him, then looked around the room with interest.
“It was uneventful,” he replied. “A bit more talking around the fire, and then we decided it was late enough.”
“Well, all ya missed on my end was me scarin’ the fel outta Ma ‘cause I snuck in through my own window outta nostalgia.”
He stifled a laugh, looking toward the door. She grinned at him and gestured grandly at her little room.
“Welcome ta my childhood. If ya wanna get settled, I’m almost done with my notes.”
“Take your time.”
He set his pack down on a free bit of floor and began getting out of his snow gear. Attzi returned to the bed and kept writing. By now, Kappi was used to giving her time to write every night, and time to read over her notes every morning, so she didn’t feel rushed by his being there. She filled out another full page of shorthand before finally shutting the notebook with a snap and turning her attention to her companion.
Kappi was down to a shirt and shorts, standing by her bookshelf and idly browsing the titles. She hopped off the bed and walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her chin on his shoulder. “Didja really haveta brush up against my legs like that in front a Burnie? I think he thought ya grabbed my ass underwater.”
Kappi chuckled. “Sorry. I could not resist.”
She kissed his cheek. “We’re supposed ta be professional around coworkers.”
“And I believe we usually are.” He tilted his head and smirked at her.
Attzi giggled and pulled away, taking him by the shoulder and heading for bed. “C’mon. I’m sleepy an’ I wanna cuddle.”
He followed without protest.
Her bed was barely big enough for both of them, but once they were settled in under the covers and she had her forehead pressed to his chest, one arm draped across his waist, it was cozy and warm. It wasn’t like they needed much space, anyway, with how they slept. Attzi stifled a yawn and closed her eyes, hooking a leg with one of his and enjoying the feeling of having Kappi close. Somehow, it made her childhood safe space feel even safer.
Word Count: 500
Summary: Attzi discovers some… side-effects that come with using the watch.
@daily-writing-challenge
It’s starting to become normal for Attzi to remember things that didn’t actually happen by the end of a fight. The first time they were called to Ammaelin’s estate to stop the invasion there, she remembered tripping into a circle of cultists. Heavy blows from clubs and other weaponry had pelted her entire body–
Click.
She was standing in front of them, unharmed, hand outstretched to fire ice into their midst. That’s what really happened. The Attzi on the ground, curling to protect herself from being bludgeoned as she reached for her watch, didn’t exist.
That was only the first example of that night. By the time she’d gotten home, she wasn’t sure if she should write down what she remembered, or what she knew was the reality. She went with the former out of habit, but quickly realized that might not be the best idea. The memories were bloody, and painful, and if they hadn’t come to pass, why should she have to keep them in her head?
Then tonight: Zokkine, recovering from Lattimer attempting to suck him dry like a mosquito, miscasts a fire spell and has it blast back into his face–
Click.
The fireball hits Lattimer instead, and Zokk’s face remains unharmed. Attzi still remembers the aftermath of the failed spell, but he doesn’t seem to.
And what about the moments that repeated? The corpses bursting behind Attzi, a wave of flesh-eating worms and congealed blood coming out and slamming into her back, sending her into a paroxysm of pain as they bit into her flesh and pumped her full of rage–
Click.
Attzi knows what is coming, but can’t get out of range in time. She rewound too late. So instead of evading, she feels the pain of the hit for a second time.
Controlling time so that her allies can attack faster than her enemies is more difficult on her physically, but much simpler on her mentally. They all have memories of when she does it, after all, instead of only being left with a vague sense of deja vu.
After this latest round of time management during their return to Ammaelin’s estate, she sits down at her notebook, pen in hand, and just stares at the page. If she writes about reality only, how will she improve her skills with the watch? She won’t remember using it if she only records what it caused, instead of also adding what it prevented.
But if she writes down everything she’s changed… how much hurt is she going to have to remember even though it didn’t actually come to pass?
Attzi sets the pen down and runs her fingers through her hair, sighing heavily. She already felt hollow after using the watch so much in a day. What was this all going to do to her if she kept making it more powerful, as she intended?
...It didn’t matter. She had her goals. Attzi set her jaw, put pen to paper, and began to write. In her pocket, she could feel the watch steadily winding, slowly drawing her mana into itself to prepare for the next click.
Word Count: 2100
Summary: Attzi flashes back to her childhood.
Warnings: caves, creepiness
@daily-writing-challenge
-
"And whaddya think happened ta th' kids? Did they get cursed, or did they find fame an’ fortune?"
“Out of the three kids, one of them disappeared and was never... seen again.”
She opens her notebook and writes something down. "Poor kid. Hope he's okay."
-
Attzi trudged back through the snow, the lights of Everlook visible in the near distance, deep in thought. She hadn’t been expecting ghost stories around the campfire for the guild social. But, she’d been expecting them to cause memories of a ghost from her past to surface even less. Her memories since the accident had a hazy, ethereal quality, like they were overexposed snapshots of the events themselves. They drifted through her head, important parts still visible, but the edges, endings, and beginnings blurred. This meant that when a memory from before the accident surfaced, it gripped her mind like a vise, startling her with the details she could recall.
Memories like the one percolating through her mind in the moment made her wonder how she had made it into adulthood– and that was with the context of surviving her family’s lab explosion. So she set her feet towards her parents’ home, and let her mind wander back through time to the beat of crunching snow and steady, measured breathing.
****
“Shh!” Attzi hissed through her open bedroom window, looking out at the two boys standing in the shadows of the house. “Ma’s up still!”
Her cousin Fyx gave her a bright grin and appeared to completely ignore the very real chance of them being caught and grounded. “Hurry up! We got a timeline, Att’z.”
Attzi looked to her left and frowned at the other figure. “An’ where we goin’ this time, Gary?”
“Mazthoril!” When she stared at him blankly, he added, “C’mon, ya don’t know Mazthoril?”
“I–” Attzi began, before Fyx reached up and grabbed her by the shoulder. She fell out the window into the snowdrift below, causing the entire group to have to stifle laughter. While she brushed snow off her clothes, Gary slipped over and started easing her window closed. It shut fully with a soft click, because they needed the bedrooms to still feel warm: otherwise, their parents would know immediately that they’d sneaked out.
Getting back in was a tomorrow problem.
“Th’ others’re by th’ gate,” Fyx said, turning to walk that way. Attzi and Gary fell into step behind him, tugging at their gloves and pulling their hats down over their ears.
While they walked, Gary quietly ran through the story he’d heard from one of the older goblin kids in their friend circle, about how the cave was haunted, but that anyone who went in there overnight was destined for fame and fortune.
“So what’s haunting it?” Attzi asked.
“An elf lady,” Gary replied. “She tries ta kill ya if ya see her.”
“An’ that makes this cave different from th’ last two we’ve explored how, exactly?”
Fyx pointed up to the sky. “Well, we’re sneakin’ out, for one. Th’ timing’s important. She doesn’t show during the day.”
Attzi made a skeptical noise as the three of them drew up alongside another group of kids. She recognized them all, though most of them were a little younger than she was. Some of her cousins were close with them, though, so she shrugged it off.
“Alright, who’s leadin’?” Attzi asked the assembled kids.
“I know where it is,” Gary said immediately, taking off at a brisk pace toward a distant ridge.
Fyx shrugged, and the rest of them followed after. Attzi put her hands in her pockets and tried not to seem tired, or nervous. “We’ve seen elf ghosts, all’a us,” she said. “They never do anythin’. An’ th’ ones that supposedly do, nobody’s ever actually seen.”
“Then you should make it through tonight no problem,” said a slightly older girl beside her.
“Cool it, snow queen,” called Gary from the front. “I brought snacks.”
Fyx just laughed and smacked her on the back, in between the shoulders. “An’ I brought cocoa an’ blankets.”
She felt her ears try and fail to perk under her hat.
The cave turned out to be easy to find, but once they all saw the entrance, the group came to an uncertain stop. Those who’d had flashlights out shone them toward the opening, where the light dissipated into the gloom.
“I dunno ‘bout this,” said a young boy standing beside Fyx.
“All we gotta do is head ta th’ back an’ stay past midnight.”
“I heard it was sunup!”
While the rest of them bickered about what their older siblings had told them, Attzi eyed the cave entrance, debating the likelihood of them all being mauled by a cave bear, But, when the group took their first few uneasy steps inside, she went with them. After a moment, she saw a seam of ore in the wall at about head-height, and realized she knew exactly where she was.
“Hey, my dad’s taken me here,” Attzi announced, watching a flashlight trail along the cave wall. “I know how ta get ta th’ back.”
Gary beckoned her to come up next to him, and together they made their way through the tunnels. The whole group was speaking in hushed voices, ears alert, looking around. One of the boys in the back tripped over a stone, making everyone jump and grab for one another.
She had to admit, the gloom really was setting a mood. But she wasn’t about to admit to anyone that the hair on the back of her neck was standing up.
They made it to the back of the cave and huddled into a circle, giggling and getting out their blankets and snacks. Attzi picked a spot where she could see down the tunnel they’d come through, and Fyx and Gary settled down on either side of her. Fyx pulled out his watch, and then looked around at the group.
“Two hours ta midnight. Anyone wanna tell a story?”
It turned out to be difficult to keep focused on any stories they tried to tell. The cave was full of strange noises that echoed and made it impossible to tell where they were coming from. They lost the first two of their little group forty-five minutes in; they grabbed their things, making excuses that they didn’t want their parents to catch them out of bed. Over the next hour, three more left–well, fled–leaving Attzi, Fyx, Gary, and two of Fyx’s friends. The group had a laugh about how easily-spooked the others had been, and between that and the cocoa, for a moment it seemed like waiting around until dawn would be a cakewalk.
Then, the wailing started. Or something very like wailing, coming from their left. Attzi grabbed Fyx’s wrist, and everyone turned to look. The cavern they were in was soon full of shaky light beams as flashlights swept the walls.
“What was that?”
“Shhh,” Attzi hissed. “Just listen.”
The sound came again, closer, and every flashlight beam snapped to the direction. Fyx’s friends rose to their feet, abandoning their blankets, and began nervously edging for the tunnel. “This ain’t funny. You guys ain’t funny,” one of them stammered, and then they took off.
Attzi realized with a sinking feeling that this left them with a single flashlight: she and Fyx hadn’t brought one. Fyx gestured for Gary to shut it off, and he did, leaving all three of them in the darkness with just their breathing.
“It’s gotta be one a th’ others messin’ with us,” Fyx whispered. “If they can’t see us, we can scare ‘em when they come lookin’.”
Time seemed to stretch on in the darkness, growing long and thin. The wailing came again, even closer. Attzi looked towards the source and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp: there, faintly luminous in the gloom, was a Highborne woman in flowing robes, drifting across the cave floor. She grabbed for Gary and Fyx on either side of her, because two details set this ghost apart from any she’d seen wandering Winterspring.
First, she had claws.
Second, she was looking right at them. Her mouth opened, and this time she screeched, a noise so loud it shook the cavern walls.
She and her friends took off in the same breath, still clinging to one another in the gloom. Gary flipped the light back on, and the faint beam kept them from tripping as they bolted for the tunnel. They darted through the tunnels, back the way they’d come in, only to hear the woman scream again, this time from in front of them. They slid to a halt at a fork in the tunnel, staring down the left side, knowing full well from the sounds that they couldn’t go that way.
Attzi looked to the other side, then tugged them down the other path. “I been here minin’ before. Keep th’ light on th’ walls, Gary?”
He did as she asked, and they kept going, though at a much slower pace. Attzi kept an eye out for the marks her father used to navigate the tunnels, and nearly cried in relief when she saw the first one. She kept them creeping, searching the walls, ears listening intently for another scream, but only hearing everyone’s terrified breathing.
She was just starting to settle down and think it was over when a scream came from directly behind them. Fyx immediately surged forward, pulling them all back into a run. The flashlight beam began to wobble, making it hard to see the walls. When they hit another fork, Attzi had a brief flash of panic that they were about to get lost, before Gary pulled them all right.
“This’s th’ main tunnel!” he said.
They took off at full speed. Attzi’s lungs burned, each inhale aching more from so much exertion in cold air, making it seem like the tunnel was endless. She was just beginning to think they were going to explode when the entrance to the tunnel came into sight. Another scream came from behind them, very close, and all three of them yelled as they fled for the entrance.
They hit the snow, Attzi nearly falling over, and ran for the treeline to hide. Fyx pulled them down behind a fallen log, and all three of them fell on their asses, breathing hard. Attzi felt her cheeks start to freeze and realized that there were tears streaming down her face. One quick glance to the boys showed that they were having the same problem.
Fyx pulled out his watch and held up a finger, telling them to stay quiet. As he kept time, they all looked to the entrance to the cave, but after a full five minutes, nothing had appeared.
The adrenaline began to fade, leaving Attzi bone tired. Fyx and Gary must have felt it too, because they both slumped over against the fallen log. She let her eyes close, and willed her heart to stop beating so hard.
Soon, the sound of quiet laughter made her focus on Fyx. He was looking at his watch again.
“What?” she managed.
He pumped his fist in the air. “Twelve fifteen. We did it!”
She blinked and looked between the grinning boys. “Th’ others’re never gonna believe us.”
Still, after running through their lives through the cave, that didn’t seem like a huge problem. They’d know, after all. How would they ever forget this?
****
Attzi bypassed her parents’ front door, walked around to the side of her house, and came to her window. She pushed on a specific corner and then shifted the pressure upward, causing the old window lock to disengage. A wave of nostalgia ran through her, but she still took a moment to make a note and tell her parents to get it fixed. She crawled in through the window with a bit less grace than she would have as a child, considering how much bigger she was, but the soft landing onto her bed was still the same. She shut the window with a click and then looked around her old room, still full of so many of her old things.
She fell onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, quietly debating why this particular memory had been dragged up tonight. It made her miss Fyx, which wasn’t unusual; that was a typical ache for her. But it also made her miss Gary, which was a much more interesting problem.
After a few minutes, she opened her notebook and started scribbling in her shorthand. She had a visit to make soon, and she didn’t want to forget why.
Warnings: offscreen character death, me struggling with a new speech syntax
Summary: Attzi has dinner with her family. (Attzi is also a new character, and there are no additional stories from her perspective. Jump in while it’s easy!)
-----
Attzi sat at one of the two tables her parents had pushed together in their dining room to make space for everyone to be together. One was square, and the other was round, but they were making it work all the same. Her family was scattered into the chairs surrounding the tables, helping themselves to food as they chattered. She counted her mother, her father, her aunt and uncle, and her five cousins. Everyone had made it tonight, which was great. She’d put herself at the bottom of the last table so that she could use her right ear to keep track of the conversations. A muted buzz sounded off to her left, but she was used to that.
“Attzi, that outfit looks amazin’,” called one of her cousins, which triggered a series of agreements from around the table. Most eyes fell on her, and so she grinned and paused eating so she could reply.
“Thanks! I got a new tailor. He’s a real nice guy, an’ he’s got a great eye for what looks good on me, ya know?”
Her mother’s head tilted. “Is that because there’s interest there?”
Attzi shook her head and tried to stifle a laugh behind her steak knife. “Ma, if there was interest, I wouldn’t be wearin’ the clothes he got me. Y'know me.”
She sighed, and Attzi cheerfully and pre-emptively rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming next. So did her father, apparently, because he cut her mother off, raising his voice ever-so-slightly from the other end of the mismatched tables.
“Didja get new jewelry? I don’t recognize the chain ya got on your belt.”
Of course he’d notice that; he was a jeweler, and had made everything Attzi wore. She rummaged around in her pocket and pulled out a golden watch, unlatching the chain with a claw so she could set it on the table.
Her aunt gasped as her silverware clattered onto her plate. “That’s– That’s Fyx’s! I never thought I’d see that watch in one piece again.”
The table fell silent, and Attzi felt her last truly clear memory roll to the surface of her mind as she pushed the button that would flip the watch’s case open.
****
“It’s good t’ see ya outta the workshop,” her mother had said, setting two paper bags on the kitchen counter. “The two of you’ve practically been livin’ there.”
“Fyx needs help, and I ain’t got nothin’ better ta do.” Attzi had been struggling to get her parka back on as she replied; winter had come to Everlook with a vengeance that year. She’d finally managed the zipper, and had pulled the hood up over her ears, ringing her vision in fur as her mother continued.
“Your pa could always teach you his trade, Atz.” Her mother frowned slightly. “Y’already gather half his supplies for him!”
“Right. Exactly. I like helpin’ family.” She’d pointed a clawed finger at her mother. “Now, thanks for lunch. Gotta run. He’s addin’ power to everythin’ today, t’see if we’ve got all the wirin’ right.”
“No problem. Have fun, the both a' ya.” Her mother had shaken her head, but she'd been smiling.
Attzi had grabbed the lunch bags before putting on her gloves, which she’d realized immediately was going to turn out to be a problem. Walking quick, then. She’d shouldered the door to the house open, and then began her trek down the block to the family’s workshop, lungs burning with each breath.
The smell had been the first thing to tip her off as she'd gotten close. The air had been sharp, and full of ozone, and something in it had been making the hair at the back of her neck tingle. It’d only taken Attzi a second to realize that her cousin had turned the machine on without her being there. She’d bolted into a run, dropping their lunches into the snow in her hurry.
But she hadn’t been in her work boots, which she used when she went out mining for ore and gems. Those had cleats, and could handle snow and ice. Her shoes that day had been meant for the lab, and so had next to no power to grip the slick and powdery ground beneath her. Attzi had slipped before she could get to the building’s entrance, landing on her back in the middle of the road and knocking the breath out of her lungs.
She’d been struggling to get up when there was a crackle, and then a boom. Her left ear had popped painfully, and then silenced into a soft ring as she’d been knocked hard away by the blast. She'd gone skidding across the street and against the wall of the far building. Everything had blossomed hot against her skin for a moment, and then she’d lost consciousness.
****
“Attzi? Atz.”
She shook her head to clear it, coming back into the present with a jolt. Her aunt and uncle were holding out their hands, quietly asking for the watch. She leaned over the table, passing it over to the closest hand. The pair inspected it silently before trading it down the line, letting Fyx’s brothers and sisters see his former favorite watch, as well. His family’s fingers ran along the case, now free of scorch marks and dents, and held it to their ears to listen to it tick.
Her whole family loved watches. She knew just from the looks on their faces that to them, the tick was as good as a heartbeat.
“Fyx'd be thrilled it was workin' again,” her aunt managed, at last passing it back across the table.
“It’s better than whole,” Attzi replied, jaw setting a bit grimly as she returned the watch to its place at her side. “It can turn back time.”
Only a few seconds, for now. But it was a start, right? She rubbed at her gently ringing left ear and smiled as the family tried to bring the conversation back up to a cheerful level. This was a reunion, after all, and none of them wanted to feel sad when they were around people they loved.
One of the Reasons I Quit My Old Job
Word Count: too many
Warnings: goblin hedonism and debauchery (jello wrestling). This whole thing happened because of a tmog I made that Attzi would never wear unless under duress. It's long, because it was mostly written before DWC started.
@daily-writing-challenge
“Ya want me ta what?” Attzi put her hands on her hips and stared over the table at the goblin on the other side. No wonder the Baron had asked to meet her at the tavern himself–if he’d sent his assistant with this kind of request, she’d have tossed What’s-His-Name out on his ass.
Baron Revilgaz took a drink from his tankard and flapped his other hand dismissively. “I don’t want ya ta do nothin’. The client does.”
“He wants ta wrestle me.” Her voice was flat. “Ya know how I feel about that.”
“Yeah, but this one wants ta make it fun.” Revilgaz grinned. “Gelatin or oil, he says you pick.”
Attzi huffed. “Neither! Get someone else. I ain’t th’ only one who works this job for ya.”
“He likes ya most, Atz. Ya know how to make an impression. That’s why you’re my best.”
The flattery was wasted on her, as he should have known by now. “I ain’t doin’ it.” She crossed her arms across her front and scowled. She’d have to remember this the next time her ma told her there was nothing wrong with being an overachiever.
Her boss’s voice turned wheedling. “I’ll pay ya double.” He held up two clawed fingers.
“Double?” She let her voice get a bit shrill. “For rollin’ around in dubious food with some guy ya wanna cheat?”
“Look, them Area 52 guys’re just plain weird. I think th’ netherstorm gets to ‘em. Ever been? Place is a wastela–”
Attzi cut him off. “I want triple. Up front.” She locked eyes with the baron.
He countered immediately. “Double up front, an’ a week off ta visit th’ family. Plus, he said he’d have a gift for ya of his own for bein’ so obligin’.”
She made a frustrated noise through her teeth. “Yeah, I bet he did.”
“Nah, he said somethin’ about bugs. Said ya brought up ya like ‘em.”
Her ears perked, and she cursed internally for showing interest so clearly. “...I ain’t got a place ta do this, or th’ stuff we’d need,” she protested lamely.
Revilgaz gave another dismissive wave. “Tell me gelatin or oil an’ I’ll have it all sent ta your place. Do it on th’ roof by that bar a yours.”
Attzi cocked her head, considering the location. If her opponent got handsy, she could always knock him off the roof, right? Sure, there was a privacy fence, but that was for hiding her when she was sunbathing, so it wasn’t super tall.
“...An’ how can I be sure th’ assistant’s gonna get all this set up in time?”
“I’ll be bringing it all personally.” Possibly to reinforce this, he finished his drink and set it down on the table with a loud ahh.
“Ta my house? You jus’ wanna watch!” She pointed a gold-painted claw at him accusingly.
He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “If I’m payin’ ya double up front, I’m makin’ sure you’re puttin’ in th’ effort.”
Her head cocked. “He don’t seem th’ type to want me ta throw it, then?”
He spread his hands wide. “Too bad, right?”
“You’re enjoyin’ this too much, boss. Bring gelatin. I don’t wanna get oil in my hair. An’ ya own liquor. I ain’t indulgin’ ya tonight any more than I gotta.” Attzi whirled on her heel and stomped out of the tavern, the heels of her boots thudding pointedly as she made her exit. Most days she loved her job. This wasn’t one of them. And she needed to get back quickly enough to remember who this guy from Area 52 was, get dressed, and get the roof ready for company.
She knew better than to check her notes while walking after nearly spilling off the boardwalk and into the bay more than once, so she forced herself to wait until she was back in her house on the top row, nestled between the hill of the jungle behind them and the bay far below. She closed her front door and immediately scrambled for her notebook, finding the page on her current mark and reading it over.
He hadn’t really struck her as a creep so far, at least, and they had talked about bugs. He was a trader, and apparently he had a cousin who traded in the big bugs that you could ride over the water. She’d liked that idea enough to write it down, so he must have picked up on her enthusiasm. Kizzie wasn’t a super great name, but at least she’d be able to remember it for the night, because the sound of it made her giggle.
Oh, and she’d even put down a little sketch with her descriptions. Kizzie must have gotten too interested in what she’d been writing. She usually drew them to distract them when they got too nosy.
She snapped the notebook shut and slid it into a drawer before moving to her bedroom next. She opened the closet that spanned the entire wall the door was on, and started digging around in her many, many bathing suits for a specific set she remembered having made. She may not have done much wrestling, but she’d done plenty of swimming, and she knew that hands grabbing the wrong strap could quickly cause a wardrobe malfunction. So, after a bit of searching, she produced what she hoped would be her saving grace with the gelatin: dark red bottoms with a belt that sat above the hips, just high enough to cover her belly button. The sides of the bottoms were high and showed off nearly all her leg and half her ass (it was really hard to find bottoms that covered it, honestly), but the belt kept what was there from falling off when diving… or being yanked off by creeping fingers. She said a brief prayer to nobody that they’d still fit as she shimmied into them and buckled them closed. The buckle was gold, and set with a pretty little diamond. She’d wanted it to look more like a fashion piece than what it really was: a deterrent.
Next, she found the top she often wore with it: a lace-front crop top with a bottom band that buckled on her back, just below the bustline. The laces let her adjust how much cleavage she felt like showing; today, it was going to be laced completely shut. She didn’t want to dig gelatin out of her top later.
Also, didn’t it melt?
She shuddered and got to work strapping and lacing herself in. As she did, she tried not to envision how it was going to feel squishing between her toes.
Nah, nah, she wasn’t gonna let that happen. She pulled out a sliding shelf that held her boots, sorted by color and condition, and found a pair of old red cloth knee-highs that would match the suit. Stepping into them, she laced them up and then took a few test steps. They should still have enough tread to work for this. If Kizzie didn’t like it, she’d complain that someone had stepped on her foot once during a wrestling match, and it had hurt for days. Sad pouting.
Attzi closed up her closet, bringing the mirrors covering the doors back into view. She stared at the final result for a bit, turning this way and that. Part of her was self-conscious about her bare arms because people generally didn’t expect them to be so buff. Most of her was self-conscious about the sheer amount of ass and thigh visible; she’d inherited her father’s upper half, and her mother’s lower half. There were benefits to calling attention to each, but she usually didn’t go out around clients with both on show. It gave them ideas she didn’t always want them to have.
If a single person asked if they could try to bounce a gold piece off her backside tonight… Her head cocked, and she stared at the door. How many people was she going to be dealing with, anyway? Revilgaz, for all his teasing, wanted to be there to seal the deal while her mark was breathless, sticky, and distracted. But would Kizzie be bringing anyone?
She had just enough time to put on her lipstick before there was a knock at the door and the sound of several sets of shuffling feet from the open window beside it. “Special delivery!”
“It’s open,” she called, walking back into the main room. When the door opened, her heart sank. Baron Revilgaz walked in briskly, followed by six of his men. Two were holding a kiddie pool, and the rest either had buckets of water, or large boxes of powder.
“We need all these guys for this?” Her voice was incredulous.
“Two’ll stay ta help with drinks. Th’ rest are just here for setup.” Revilgaz directed them up her spiral staircase, and was about to follow after when Attzi called out.
“Hey! I ain’t seein’ any sign ya BYOB’d.”
Just then, a seventh goblin came in, holding a heavy crate of bottles. Her boss chuckled, and she sighed and fell into step with everyone else, heading for the roof.
Once they were up top, Baron Revilgaz turned and looked her over. “Ya look like ya wrestle all th’ time in that outfit. This happen more often than I knew about?”
“Nah.” Attzi turned in place with a little flourish. “This’s what I wear when I take clients cliff divin’ off your statue’s big dumb face in th’ bay. Belt keeps everythin’ in place when I hit the water.”
He squinted at her, trying to decide if she was being honest or not. All she did was wink, and then start shifting furniture around to create a space for the pool. Begrudgingly, she moved all the seats so that the spectators, if there were any, could get a clear view of the match. Revilgaz immediately sat down in the leftmost lounge chair, snapping his fingers. In seconds, he had a cold bottle of ale in his hand.
While Attzi was moving the furniture and seeing that the bar was properly stocked, some of Revilgaz’s henchmen started mixing water and powder in the kiddie pool. She sniffed, and then wrinkled her nose.
“...Cherry? You serious?”
Her boss shrugged. “We had th’ most a that flavor.”
“I wonder why.” That was gonna look real appealing on skin. She should have at least requested a not blood-like color. Attzi groaned and started mixing herself up the first of her three drinks for the night, and then went and sprawled out in the lounge chair next to Revilgaz, leaving her bar to the two tenders he’d brought along. “Might as well get some sun before Kizzie shows.” She sipped her cocktail through a straw and then tilted her face to the sky.
“Right.” He snapped his fingers, and one of the gelatin pool boys split off and scampered over. “You. Go tell Kizzie he got his wish.”
Attzi stared daggers at the baron as his henchman scampered off, but all he did was smile and give a small cheers with his drink. She sighed, lounged back, and closed her eyes before holding a hand out in his direction. “Pay up.”
He grumbled, but pulled a hefty bag of gold out of the box of alcohol beside him, settling it into her open palm with a flourish. She sat it beside her hip without counting it; he knew better than to cheat her. That done, she stretched out in the chair and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin while she waited for the inevitable.
****
Her current best friend did show up with guests. Attzi had nearly fallen asleep in the chair next to the baron when one of the henchmen scampered downstairs and answered a knock at her door. She opened her eyes, good ear taking in the sound of several pairs of shoes on the spiral staircase. They turned out to belong to Kizzie, an orc she hadn’t met, and two other goblins.
“Go time,” murmured Revilgaz, taking her glass from her. She scowled at him ever-so-briefly, before turning it into a cheerful smile and shifting her attention to the new arrivals. Attzi rose from her lounge chair and approached the guest of honor.
“Kizzie!” She met his eyes and beamed. “All this trouble just for me?”
“Booty Bay’s known for its…” he trailed off as he took in her outfit. “Interestin' attractions. I figured I might as well check an’ see if this was a possibility.”
She took his arm and led him to the bar, where more henchmen were ready to serve. “Let’s get some liquid courage in ya before we get in th’ ring.”
He ordered a drink, and she longed for hers. A side-eye to Revilgaz told her that he was finishing it instead of handing it back, even though he had his own liquor right next to him. She caught his eye and made a slashing motion at her neck with a claw before Kizzie caught her attention again.
“So, how we gonna do this?”
Attzi gestured at the pool. “Hop in, get a bit dirty?”
Kizzie cleared his throat. “Right, but who’s th’ ref? How many rounds?”
“I’ll be th’ ref,” Baron Revilgaz called from his spot. “How many rounds ya want?”
“Best a three?” Attzi suggested, because she knew one match wouldn’t be distracting enough.
Kizzie agreed immediately, taking his drink in hand and having a sip as he looked her over. “I ain’t convinced a my chances, seein’ you outta clothes. Your tailor knows how to hide those arms.”
She smiled and nodded, putting a hand on her hip and flexing her arm slightly. “If ya wanna back down….”
He shook his head and tossed his drink back, before pulling off his shirt and sitting to remove his boots. “Nah. This’ll be memorable, one way or another.”
Kizzie’s frame was wiry, which gave her hope she wasn’t going to be immediately smashed into the ring. Once he was down to his trousers, Revilgaz gestured with the remains of Attzi’s drink toward the pool. “Contestants, take your places,” he said in his speech-giving voice.
Keeping a smile on her face, she stepped into one side of the pool, ignoring the way the partially-set gelatin squelched underboot. Kizzie stepped into the other side, barefoot, and spread his arms in front of him, clearly readying himself to grapple her. She kept her hands at her sides and spread her legs slightly to help center her weight.
“On count. Three… two… …one!”
Kizzie launched himself forward, reaching for her shoulders. Attzi grabbed him by the neck and side-stepped, guiding him front-first into the pool of cherry-flavored gelatin. He sputtered, and she sat herself down on his lower back before she looked over at Revilgaz, smirking.
He blinked. “Well, that’s round one. Kizzie, I gotta warn ya, she grew up with… how many was it?”
“Five cousins. Four boys.” Attzi rose and held out a hand to assist Kizzie to his feet as he wiped gelatin from his face.
“‘Xactly.” While her mark was cleaning up, her boss made eye contact with her and suggested using the power of a jaw clench that she’d better not do that again. Attzi sighed and returned to her initial spot.
The next round was counted off, and this time she let him hit her full-on. His fingers found the sleeve of her top, but the laces and buckle held. They topped backwards into the mess of the pool, and she immediately worked at hooking a leg in his so that she’d be able to flip him. Everything smelled like cherry, and the more they wrestled, the slicker their skin became. It was getting hard for her to keep a grip on him. Eventually, she resorted to wrapping both her legs around his waist and clenching her thighs, sending herself up hard against his body. It was a dirty tactic, but when he gasped, she used the distraction to roll him. His back hit the gelatin, and she shifted her hips as she sat up so that she didn’t have to feel what that particular move had done to him.
Attzi grimaced as she realized there was gelatin in her hair, but remembered what she was here for and turned it back into a smile. “Another drink might limber ya up a bit,” she suggested, straddling his thighs and smirking. “Though there’s no winnin’ at this point. Wanna call it?”
“Call it? Nah.” He laughed and ran a hand down her bare back. “Drink, sure. An’ a request.” He pointed behind them, to one of his entourage. “I know when I’m beat. Let him try ta save face for me while I watch th’ last round.”
Attzi followed his finger, and her eyes went wide as she saw he was indicating the orc. “I, uh–” Her eyes cut to the baron, who was grinning and lounging in his chair, her now-empty drink in his hand. She returned her face to a pleasant smile, and rose, holding a hand out to return the mark to his feet. He came back up into everyone’s view with very little shame, considering the state she’d left him in.
“Come sit by me, Kizzie. I’m sure Atz’ll oblige. We’ll get ya another drink for tha show.”
She stared at Revilgaz for a moment, eyes narrowed, and he helpfully held up two fingers. Double. She’d been paid double. Fuck.
He set her glass down, and smiled over at the orc. “Can we get ya a refreshment, sir?”
The orc shook his head and stepped forward, hauling his shirt over his head and exposing a very muscular torso. She’d put money on him being Kizzie’s bodyguard. “No need. I’m fine.”
Attzi and Revilgaz had a quiet, brief eye-fight, but in the end she stepped back into the pool to face off against someone roughly half again her height. He clambered onto the opposite side, and they stared at one another for a moment as the baron got Kizzie situated with a drink and a good view.
She knew what was going to happen: this fight was going to run long because her boss would refuse to call it, and while she was pinned and struggling underneath her opponent, Revilgaz was going to talk business, hoping their mark would be so focused on the event that he’d sign whatever just to get back to it. She also knew it was going to work. But she still needed to put on a show. So when her new opponent stepped in, she smiled up at him and stretched her arms over her head, releasing some very real tension in her back and shoulders. “Think ya can handle me?”
All he did was blink at her. Her eyes darted from his face to his hands, which most definitely were going to be able to handle her. She grinned and winked at him, which made him smile faintly.
“I’ll go easy on you,” he said.
“Where’s th’ fun in that?”
This time, he did smile.
The baron counted down the round, and the two of them simply stood there for a moment. Attzi was waiting for him to react, and he was taking his time. After a few seconds, both his hands reached for her waist, and she tried to twist away. She avoided one hand, but the other caught the belt of her bottoms and hauled her across the pool, dragging her boots through the gelatin as he pulled her close. She braced her hands against his chest and tried to push off, but he slipped his arm around her, pulling her in close against his middle by sheer force of muscle.
“Ya got three feet on her, Dral!” she heard Kizzie call. “C’mon!”
“I can fix that.” He chuckled, wrapped both his hands around her waist, and then just lifted her into the air so that they were at face level with one another.
Attzi kept a smile on her face and giggled breathlessly. “This ain’t wrestlin’, big guy.”
“No. It’s entertainment.” He smirked and lowered his voice to a murmur. “I know what he likes. Just play along.”
“...Okay, sure.” She shoved at his shoulders with her hands, and then raised her voice. “Pretty sure ya gotta pin me to win, buddy.”
He set her down, then flicked two fingers, beckoning her to come at him. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he winked. “Then let’s get you pinned.”
Attzi took a deep breath and decided to trust that he, too, was just an employee. She heard laughter behind her as she stepped in close and tried to wrap a leg around his to bring him down. Laughter, and the sound of Revilgaz wheeling and dealing. Just a few more seconds, then.
There was absolutely no way she was strong enough to bring him down, but he still stumbled, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her down on top of him. She ended up sprawled across his chest and stomach, and tried to pin him and fix that at the same time: one hand to each shoulder, and she pressed down.
“You’re as strong as you look,” he chuckled.
“Likewise.” She tried to get back onto her feet, but he grabbed her again, squeezing her in close with his arm.
“The only place you’re going is down,” he said, enunciating enough for the spectators. Then, he rolled her.
Attzi shrieked as the gelatin squished into her back, her hair, and against her legs. Secondary to that sensation was the feeling of many, many pounds of muscular orc pressing against her. The lip of the pool kept her from seeing their audience, but she could definitely hear them cheering. And, as expected, her boss wasn’t calling the round.
It was honestly hard to breathe underneath him, but at least her new ‘rival’ seemed completely disinterested in what was going on; they were both performing for their employers, and that fact made the whole charade a little more fun than it would have been otherwise. She wrapped her legs around his middle and futilely tried to flip him like she’d done with Kizzie earlier. Of course, it didn’t work, but it looked good. He grabbed one of her thighs with a hand and pulled her leg back down, and she yelled in frustration at being pinned again.
For his part, he laughed as he held her, and then scooped up some of the gelatin and smeared it across her face. When she made a very genuine disgusted noise, she heard their audience cheer again. She took the cue and retaliated, using both her hands to smash gelatin right back into his face.
He pinned her hands then, holding her down, and she kicked her legs and struggled with literally all her might. Everything was slippery, and he was too big to really do anything against, and for a brief moment she felt genuine panic. Her opponent must have heard it in her voice, because he lifted off of her just enough to give her free room to breathe.
And then, right at the edge of her tolerance, Baron Revilgaz called the match. The orc immediately rose, offering out a hand, and she stood, breathing hard. Her eyes found Kizzie, and she saw a signed contract in the baron’s hand. Revilgaz gave her a small nod, and then one of the henchmen came up to her with a towel. It was one of hers; had they gone through her house? She snapped and gestured at the orc, who was then given a towel, as well.
He wiped his face and hair clean, and then held out a hand. When she shook it, he grinned.
Did he have any idea what he’d just helped do? She studied his face, but found no answers.
Soon, her nice white towels were stained with cherry. She smiled around gritted teeth and moved for the bar, asking for her second drink of the night.
****
The rest of the night was drinking and chatting and wishing for a bath. Kizzie had to be carried off by his entourage at the end; he’d been a bit too liberal with her bar. Before that, though, he’d promised that she’d have a present from his cousin delivered within the week. Dral, her new orc friend, had caught her gaze and winked before taking the staircase down into her main house, his boss slung over his shoulder. She’d blown him a kiss as he left.
Once everyone was gone, Baron Revilgaz shooed his bartenders out of her house and mixed up her favorite drink himself.
“I already had three,” Attzi protested as he settled down in the chair beside her and offered it out.
“Ya don’t gotta perform anymore tonight. Ya did good. Now take a break.”
She sighed and stretched out in the lounge chair, accepting the drink and having a sip. “Do shit like this ta me much more an’ I’m gonna quit, ya know.”
“Ya’d break my heart like that, Atz?” His voice sounded fond, and completely unbothered.
Attzi turned her head, meeting his eyes, and nodded. “In a second,” she said, before having another drink.
“An’ that’s why I call ya my best.” He winked, and then crossed his arms behind his head, tilting his head to the sky. “I’ll have someone clean th’ roof for ya tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay, okay.” Attzi looked up at the stars, and tried to ignore the prevalent smell of cherry.
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Once she finished her drink, he wished her a good night, and then saw himself out.
These particular pages of her notebook have stains from what is either soapy water or wine. Both. As always, these notes are kept in her own shorthand.
-----
Writing this in the bath. Usually get notes done first, but feeling dirtier than usual. Puking guts out will do that.
From the top. Was in the tavern at home today, assembling watch meant to show Mega for catalog. Elf came and sat down without asking. Used to people helping themselves to my company, so. Made him wait while I counted gears, then looked up.
Something was off with the eyes. More so than usual with a blood elf. Armor wasn't great either. Spikes, very red. Even less great was him calling me by name. Told him he got points for his ballsy entrance while I gathered my thoughts.
He was polite up until he made half the patrons get up and march out the building by force when I asked for a proper introduction.
Apparently it's nice to be worshipped. Never been convinced of that, but he sure seems to be. Bad sign, even without the context.
But... not a good idea to upset someone who can puppet other people. Even if it might not work on me, didn't like the idea of drowning under a sea of tall sycophants, either. So, old habits kicked in. Never let someone you don't like see the disdain, you know? Bad for business.
Despite everything else, working for Revilgaz taught me good people skills.
"Neat trick. Can think of several situations where that would have been useful. Ya get more points."
Wonders never cease: flattery works on everyone, even if they know they're talking to a flatterer. (Even though he asked about my old job, still assumed he knew what I used to do. In theory, he'd know how I'd react to this situation, right? But hey. I've got a great smile.)
Who introduces themselves as "The Defiler?" Couldn't help myself. Was pretty sure since I wasn't already dead, death wasn't his goal. So, asked if I should call him "The," or "Mr. Defiler." Then he gave me his real name. (Original name?) Acted like I should know who he was because of course Mega would have said something. Pretended not to know anything, just to see how he reacted to not being talked about.
Used to have people try to tempt me away from Revilgaz for other work before I quit on my own. Got offered everything from money, to drugs, to sex, to 'anything my little heart desired.' But, being offered getting my hearing restored was new.
Honestly? He'd have had better luck if he'd tried the 'fix the memory issues' angle instead. Ear's the least of my worries. Still, asked about it in detail to get a feel for what he could do.
Nothing good, for the record.
Thankfully, I've got practice sitting and smiling while powerful men talk about themselves at length. Was never really an open 'come join me' offer, but still seemed like he was trying to tempt me away from Mega. Maybe he wanted me to bring it up?
Not gonna happen. Met the security team months ago. Better to be at the right hand of the Legion than in their path.
Sure, Mr. Dinthoqaf could make a tiny me out of his own blood to illustrate his points. And then kill her. Sure, he had more sway in my home than I was comfortable with. But... Signed a contract. And Iike my coworkers.
Also... Not a monster.
He got bored eventually. Not sure if that's a reflection on my people skills or his reaction to my sass. Either way, he decided to make a point.
Note to self: tell Mega we're down a warehouse worker. Never interacted with him enough to be able to remember his name. Which made the megalomaniac turning him to a puddle of goo to prove a point even sadder.
Felt sick, but kept my attention on the asshole who did it. Took down a few nonsense notes, made comment about "now that we're getting serious, I'll be a good little messenger."
But all the gold and gears in Azeroth, this man truly seems to be coming after us because Mega said no to him at some point? Who is that petty?
"All this because he hurt your feelings?" I said. Smiling. Next to a puddle of goo that used to be a coworker.
I wasn't really in a spot to listen to the reply. At some point, I heard noises about him hoping we weren't on opposite sides when we saw each other again.
"I ain't in the habit of making enemies. Keep that in mind if you wanna talk again."
Better to keep the channel open, right?
Went home, puked guts out, climbed into the bath. Want to break my three drink rule, but writing this before my stupid brain forgets it. Because there are parts that will fade if I don't do this. No matter how bad it was.
Need to talk to Mega. Need to warn Kappi, Dave, and Zokk to keep an eye out for creepy elves (be less vague). Probably shouldn't say anything to Mister Mae yet; gotta be a better time to unleash him.
Might go get sick again, actually. But hey... My boots survived.
Note to self: ask Zokk for some blood resist enchants for my clothes.
Note to self: work more with the watch. We're going to need some second chances.
Attzi, due to chronic memory issues, writes in her notebook in an indecipherable shorthand. This is a translation of today’s page.
Weird day. For a lotta reasons. Not all bad. Honestly not sure where to start, because I didn’t get a chance to write this morning, or before work happened. Right now, we're on my roof, because got called in to deal with more Mr. Defiler problems. He decided to attack his brother's estate. This time, nobody got taken, so it felt better to invite people over. Nat, Kappi, and Zokk are here. And Big Elf came, too. (Note to self: elf names are harder to remember, yes, but DO IT ALREADY. p.30) Been running around making drinks and doing other hostess stuff, but everyone’s involved in conversation now so can sip my drink and write for a bit. Good, because absolutely exhausted. And bleeding.
All of us had to deal with a mass of cultists and death knights today thanks to Mr. Defiler's minions. Tony helped make the watch stronger, so was testing it out a lot while fighting. Was working really well. Kept others from getting hit more than once. Even saved me from falling flat on my face in front of a cultist cluster. But was also using my pickaxe, and must be getting the hang of fighting, because I’m covered in blood right now and not all of it’s mine. There was this group of cultists after Zokk, and… Think I swung a little too hard.
Now to reason for drinking. Not exactly used to killing people. Making their lives hard, sure, but haven't had to kill someone before taking this job. First one I ever did was that goblin who made unwanted comments, shot me, then called me a bitch when I tossed ice at him (prev notebook– falls open directly to page. Also has Big Elf’s name. LEARN IT.) Then I saw Mr. Defiler melt the goblin in the tavern, and all the ones he killed the day Mega was taken… but at least I didn't kill them.
Then today. Most of what I hit bled. Got no idea how many I ended up killing, but by the time I got to the point with the ones menacing Zokk, I started giggling. Really hard.
[There is a stain of some sort of sticky pink drink, which smells like strawberries.]
Wasn’t because it was funny. Was full of adrenaline, trying to keep track of where everyone was around me with one working ear, and just kept sinking my pickaxe into flesh and bone because if I stopped, I’d die. Kappi and Zokk and Nat wouldn’t have backup to help out Big E– AMMAELIN. And then whatever horrible thing was happening with Mega would be harder to fix, and whatever Mr. Defiler was planning overall would…
Brain took all that and spat laughter back out. Must not have sounded too unhinged, at least, because Zokk and Kappi came to get drinks after with everyone else, and they'd seen it happen.
At some point gotta fix up my arm, but am waiting until friends get tired. Most of it was healed already, anyway, thanks to Ammaelin. Shirt's a loss, tho.
Never wearing white on a job again.
…Kappi keeps wincing when he breathes. Looks like it's time for him to have another date with my first aid kit.
