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Despite the events of the night, days, and indeed, 50 years before, another day dawns on Nua just as it always has. The members of the Thundermen LLC rise shortly after light, each rested but unsettled. After an exclamation from Fitzroy about one “shitdamn Chaos” and a few dry remarks from Argo and the Firbolg about Fitzroy’s still having a ways to go on the whole swearing thing, they settle into a brief discussion, just enough to confirm that, yes, each of their dreams had been visited by the unsettling being and creepy fucker that is Chaos. It answers some questions, but it leaves more, no doubt just as Chaos would have it.
Despite the events of the night and days past, the members of the Thundermen LLC venture down to the main hall for breakfast just as has been their habit. It seems to them to be very peculiar indeed that the main hall should look as normal as it does when just last night the whole damn place had been overrun with demons from devil dogs to erinyeses to an unconscionable number of pit fiends to one twelve-foot-tall asshole demon prince. Yeah, Fitzroy said it, what are you gonna do, tell on him?
Regardless -and actually, please don’t tell Gray about Fitzroy’s little outburst there, he did threaten to murder a whole lot of people, and we are trying to avoid that- the main hall, and indeed all of the school, is by and large as it was. Most of the students seem unaware of the events of the preceding night, while some of the teachers could either be stressed about last minute lesson plans or about demons, it’s hard to tell.
Well, some of them know. As they enter, a still tense looking Rhodes and Mimi pass by them with a tray of food, headed up to the infirmary to visit Moon. After exchanging a brief greeting with the artificer and the ranger, the boys proceed further, looking around. A very much human Leon and Buck -shit, does this mean Fitzroy no longer gets a cool bird squire? Okay, a human squire is probably still okay- are sitting in a far corner, the former likely telling the latter that no, he hadn’t been traveling and yes, he had been okay with the whole bird thing. Rolandus and Zana also seem to know what’s up, given that Rhodes probably told her friends why she’d been heading out to see Moon and that Rolandus seems to be sulking about missing the fight.
Rainer is the only soul at a table for four. This is not to say that the table is otherwise unoccupied. Once again, everyone’s favorite necromancer in Nua has reserved the surrounding seats with the animated skeletons of local wildlife. And from the plates stocked with berries, various citrus fruit, and crepes, it’s pretty obvious who the plates are reserved for.
Rainer waves them over with a sunshiny smile, and her skeletal friends hop down, scurrying over to their various compartments in her ingenious chair. It’s not nearly as creepy as Fitzroy proclaims. It does, however, serve as a reminder to Fitzroy, of one particular piece of his dream. And no, it wasn’t about the whole awesome lightning powers that he was apparently using for murder bit.
Fitzroy is about to ask that question when he takes his first bite of crepe. “Damn, Rainer, that’s a good crepe!”
“Thank you?”
“Oh, don’t say it like that; that makes it weird. You know I wouldn’t have these if it weren’t for you. All I’d have would be sad omelettes, and no one likes omelettes.”
“Huh. Do you think they can put a grapefruit in an omelette?” Argo says wonderingly, looking at a segment of grapefruit impaled on his fork and once again betraying the difference between INT and WIS.
“This is… ahhhhhhhhhhh not good idea.” The Firbolg nods his head sagely. “The juices would ruin the egg!”
“I mean, you could try it, Argo. It’s not like it would kill you,” Rainer says with a shrug.
“Wouldn’t it though?” Fitzroy asks suspiciously, spearing another forkful of crepe with happily albeit not nearly as coolly lightning free hands.
“Well, if it did, I mean, I could fix that,” Rainer says, tilting her head with a smile, and Fitzroy’s question is once more brought to the forefront, with not even crepes capable of swaying his attention.
“Rainer, I have a question,” Fitzroy announces, cutting off whatever Argo had been about to say next and much too loudly, causing the people at the next table to look over. “Important question time.”
Rainer, however, looks amused. “Me, too. Lots, actually. Like how Hieronymous was a dog and also a demon king?”
“Okay, now, no, there was a fake Hieronymous, a Fauxronymous, if you will-”
“And we will,” Argo interrupts, nodding.
“Right, but Fauxronymous is a demon prince, not a demon king, that’s a whole other ballgame that would suck even more, and then there’s real Hieronymous, who was a dog, because Higglemas turned him into a dog and also aged like a lot to avoid a curse on the real Hieronymous. But that’s not important, and my thing is really important!”
“Okay, still have a lot of questions, but please, continue.”
Fitzroy opens his mouth and closes it. Several times in fact.
“Take… take your time,” Firbolg says encouragingly.
“Rainer, do you like me?” Fitzroy asks, the words loud, but luckily fast enough to be nearly indistinguishable if you aren’t paying attention.
Argo snorts. Firbolg lets out a grumbling sigh. Rainer blinks.
“Of course I like you, silly! I don’t break out the skeleton animals for just anyone!” Rainer waves a hand, and the skeletal raccoon pokes his head out of the compartment and waves a little bony hand as well.
“Uh, yes, yes, you do get the skeletal animals out for just anyone. It’s kind of your thing, and it is a creepy thing, truly an abomination against gods and humanity alike.”
“Okay, fine. And I know you like the raccoon, Fitzroy Maplecourt.” Rainer points a finger accusingly at Fitzroy as said raccoon takes offense and ducks back into its compartment. Or, it seems to anyway. It’s a skeletal raccoon; its facial expressions are hard to read.
“I mean, it’s Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt-”
“Knight in absentia of the realm of Goodcastle. Fitz, we know.” Rainer frowns, considering. “Um. Okay, I don’t get crepes for just anyone then,” she counters, pointing at the plate of crepes that Fitzroy is solidly halfway through now, like damn, give the author some time to describe when you’re eating, don’t just inhale it whenever she’s preoccupied with other characters, Fitzroy.
Fitzroy looks down at the plate of half-eaten crepes and takes another bite, thoughtfully chewing and swallowing before proceeding further. It’s unexpectedly thoughtful for a magic barbarian sorcerer half elf who went into a rage and grew eight inches like yesterday. Oh, shit, maybe that’s why a handful of students had been staring, Fitzroy realizes; your classmate suddenly showing up eight inches taller and with clothes that don’t fit is kinda weird. Damn, this is really going to mess up his fantasy StitchFix order.
“Okay… okay. Okay, that’s true, and they are very good crepes, but that’s not what I meant exactly.”
“What did you mean then?”
“Arrrrrrgo? May I see you under the table for a moment?”
“I mean, Firby, friend, we did upend the table the last time we did that.”
“You two, pretend you aren’t here! And don’t upend the table and destroy my crepes!”
“I’ll do what I want!” Argo takes an oversized bite from a lemon. The spite on his face quickly turns to regret because that’s just a shitton of lemon peel to have to chew and get through in one go, bud.
“Fitzroy?”
“Yeah?”
“What did you mean?”
Fitzroy sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I mean, now, uh, I was sort of never keyed into… that kind of vibe… between us.”
“Vibe?”
“Uh… you know…
“I don’t.”
“But I mean… you know… but…”
“But?”
“But, I mean, seeing what I might hypothetically look like in ten to fifteen years, I don’t know, it wasn’t very specific in the dream or anything, but I mean, I get pretty hot and ripped and I get more cool curse brands, which, the cursing thing isn’t cool, but the brands look pretty sweet.”
“Yeah, well, I get scars!” Argo, having conquered the lemon, counters. “Right over my eye!” Argo gestures to where the scar had been. It’s on the wrong side, but let’s be honest, we’re the only ones here who know that.
“Shit, that’s pretty cool, too, man.”
“So unless Firbolg gets a really cool tattoo, which I also have-”
“I… do not.”
“Then I’m the sexy one!”
“Argonaut Keene, listen, I get lightning under my skin on my hands, and I don’t think you can beat that one!”
“I get an eye patch!” Argo yells. People look over. It’s weird. But they’re always weird, so it’s probably fine.
Fitzroy squints. “Damn, that’s like the coolest then. But, HEY WAIT, do you actually- do I remember- Firbolg do you-”
“I……….. do not remember Argo having an eye patch.”
“Argo, do you actually get an eye patch?”
“No. No, I don’t,” Argo admits at once, immediately defeated. “Still have the cool tattoo though.”
“Okay, so, hot one is still up for debate, but the point is-” As Fitzroy turns back to Rainer, he cuts himself off. “Rainer?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounds slightly off.
“Rainer, are you- okay- yes? Yes what?”
“Yes. Yes, I like you, Fitzroy. Like… that vibe.”
“Firby, maybe we should upend that table after all.”
“No, no, it’s… Fitzroy, I thought you knew.”
“You thought- you thought I knew? Rainer, you are wonderful, truly exquisite even with the whole undead monstrosity thing, but Rainer, I have a minus one intelligence, do you know what that means, Rainer?”
“I mean, yeah, but… the crepes, my birthday party… I wanted you to be my sidekick, too.”
“Yeah, but I have some pretty sick powers, who wouldn’t want that?”
“Literally, half of the heroes and villains probably.”
“Well, you don’t have to be mean about it.”
“It’s unpredictable, and wild. You zapped a bunch of people on your first day, Fitzroy.”
“Yeah, you did do that, friend.” Argo nods in agreement.
“Are you two still here?”
“We are… but this is not surprise.” Firbolg shakes his head. “It was… ahhhhhhh pretty obvious that Rainer like-likes you.”
“You knew. You knew and you didn’t tell me.”
“You did not ASK if Rainer like-likes you. The Firbolg do not lie, but this does not mean we tell when your friend like-likes someone.”
“Yeah, and Fitzroy, buddy, again, we kinda assumed it was obvious… you know, like everyone.”
“Now hold on. Argonaut Keene, who has a negative wisdom modifier-”
“Hey!”
“-figured this out and not me? What gives?”
For the first time, Rainer winces. “Um. Oops?”
“Oops? OOPS? Now I’m here left looking dumb, like a real dingus, because I didn’t figure this one out, huh?”
“You know… you know now though,” Firbolg offers, helpfully.
“Yeah, and hey now, you’re being real rude to the lady.”
“Aw, shit, you’re right, I really am.” Fitzroy looks back to Rainer, who is still looking a little… worried almost. “Rainer, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude, and callous even. I was just. You know, surprised! Like I said, I wasn’t really keyed into that whole vibe, and…”
“Fitzroy, do you like me? At all?”
“Of course I like you, Rainer, don’t be absurd.”
“Like I like you though?”
“Oh. Um. Well. Okay, I don’t like the undead animals; they scare me and I do not enjoy that. I think you are pretty cool aside from the whole necromancy thing and you are very, very smart and pretty and funny and cool and- Rainer?”
“Yes, Fitzroy?”
“I think I like you.” Rainer breaks into a smile so bright it could cause radiant damage to her undead friends.
“But do you LIKE-like her?” Firbolg throws his hands up. “This is the REAL question!”
“Yes, thank you, Firby, for that- Rainer Michelle, future lich queen-”
“Ooh, now there’s a good title!” Rainer looks excited at the very thought.
“What. Have. I. Done. But. Rainer Michelle, would you do me, Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Knight in absentia of the realm of Goodcastle and also apparently possibly future king, just in case that makes a difference, but that future and the murder attempts also kinda sucked, but-” Fitzroy sucks in a breath, “-willyoudomethehonorofgoingoutwithme?”
Rainer blinks. “Do what now?”
“This was… a little too fast.” Firbolg pinches his fingers close together. “This much.”
“Rainer date you go will me on?” Fitzroy pauses. “With?”
Argo shakes his head. “Try again.”
“Rainer, I like you. I like-like you. Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Oh, now that one’s good.” Argo murmurs to Firbolg, nodding in approval.
“Yes. Yes, Fitzroy, I will go on a date with you.”
Fitzroy is pleased and still somewhat surprised to find how happy this makes him. “Oh, uh, not sure I’m ever going to need armies of the undead, but, I guess, if you really want, like, really really want to ignore formalities and titles and everything… you can call me Fitz.”