A Gamer's Guide 420 (Patreon)

He turned to her. Where his eyes had been dark, unsaying before, now, a little light had entered them, glimmering and hopeful. “So, then, you also…?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling so hard it hurt. She held out her hand to him, and he took it, and it meant nothing. Nothing like that. Nothing at all like that. 

“Oh,” he said, letting his thumbs run across the top of her hand, through the grooves between her metacarpals. It was a shame he didn’t have claws anymore, but it did mean he could use his fingertips for this, running them along her skin. Feeling the bumps of her knuckles, the rough callouses on the pad of her palm, the soft, smooth parts between her fingers. A little press, and her hand folded, half-gripped around his thumb.

“My turn,” she said, and without responding, he let her grab his hand. It wasn’t cold, or warm. Perfectly lukewarm. She ran her thumb across his palm, feeling the eerie smoothness of it. If she pinched his skin, she found it much thinner than normal skin; fabric-like in the way it creased and folded. Silk, she decided. That’s what it was. And beneath the silk, above the bones, was nothing but maggots. She could feel them through the skin. Curled up, soft, all tiny lumps, like breast tissue. With a bit of maneuvering, she could separate a maggot from the rest, trapping it in a small pocket of shin, showing its form. Experimentally, she squished it. 

“Interesting,” Kitty muttered. “It didn’t hurt at all.”

“Cool.” She turned his hand over. He still had fingernails, but they shimmered oddly. In the dark, they simply looked white and dull, like the fingernails of a corpse, but if she pulled them into the light… “Whoa. Is that mother of pearl?” They shimmered beautifully. Blue, yellow, pink, swirling together across miniscule bumps and grooves. 

“What’s mother of pearl?”

“You know when you find a clam or something on the beach, and the inside is all nice and colourful and beautiful? That’s mother of pearl. It’s what makes pearls, so it’s called mother of pearl.”

“Cool name. Why’s it on my nails?”

“I don’t think it’s on your nails, I think it is your nails.”

“Huh.” He withdrew his hand, and she let him. Holding it high above him, he let his eyes move across his fingernails, one by one. “You’re human, but you’re like me. I wish we’d met sooner. Then I wouldn’t have had to spend so many years thinking I was defective.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. And it didn’t mean anything. He didn’t tense up, he didn’t sweat, he didn’t tremble. He kept looking at his hand, at the way his fingernails glimmered and shone in the light. “It looks nice,” she said. “It fits you.”

“That’s what’s bothering me a little,” he said, folding and unfolding his fingers. “This body… It feels fine. But shouldn’t I be unhappy with it? I’ve got maggots for flesh, milk for blood. That’s weird. I should be tearing myself apart trying to escape it, but I’m not. I feel at home. Isn’t that strange? This body feels more comfortable than the one I’ve had all my life, and I can barely walk in it.”

“You’re the one who made it,” she said, feeling the way his cheek pressed against the top of her head, the gentle pressure of his weight atop her. “Maybe not consciously, but it’s still yours.”

“Hm. What do you think it says about me that I chose to give myself maggot flesh, but also land-of-milk-and-honey for blood?”

“Kitty, there are many things I’d do for you, but psychoanalysis is not one of them.”

He let his hand fall to his side. “That’s probably for the better, all things said.”

“Yeah. Whatever’s at the heart of everything that fucked you up, I’m not sure I want to—”

<You have received a message.>

“Everything alright, Gecko?”

“Oh, yeah, I just…” She sat up straighter. So soon? “Hang on, let me check, I think it might be Rice.”

<BeatriceTheAngel[F67]:

[WARNING: some parts of this message could not

be properly translated. We apologize for the inconvenience.]

Hello Lizard thank you for messaging me

I am coming right away and will be there in one month.

As for your PS being in love [...] like falling off horse

hurt everywhere but exhilarating [...] love at least 

not leave you in hospital expensive America. 

Tell Kitty I miss him and will be there for him soon

thank you.

TTFN Grain>

“What’s she saying? It’s fine if she can’t come, I won’t be upset or anything.” 

He’s such a bad liar, Rafiloe thought to herself, rereading the message. “She’ll be here in a month. She’ll leave right away.”

“Really? She…? Huh.” A small smile crowned his lips, reaching all the way up to his eyes. “That’s nice. I’m… glad.”

“She sounds like a good friend,” Rafiloe said, absently typing up a message to send back. “I hope you’ll keep her that way.”

“I’ll try,” he said. But then, after a moment, he quickly corrected himself, an unusually serious look on his face, saying, “I will.”

She smiled at him. Since he’d made such a good example of it…

She revised her message a little.

<GeckomancerOfYore[F50]:

thank you thatll be great i will keep him

sane and in a reasonable state and not too crazy

even though he has a tendency for that sort of a mindset.

oh also i appreciate the metaphor for love its very vivid

okay hope you have safe travels and when you get here

just come to the big castle and ask for me and ill fix stuff

okay thanks see you

//gecko>

She sent it off. Then, since she was checking her screen anyways, she decided to take a look at the time. 

<Top—Status—Community>

<09:33:02

Day 1 507>

<The fifty-first attempt will begin in

7:14:26:58>

…Only an hour had passed? She frowned at the clock. She felt sure it had been at least two or three hours. Still, if she kept Leion waiting much longer, she felt reasonably certain that not even her status as Kitty’s apostle would be enough to quell his anger. Maybe. Assuming he believed her at all. Aside from her, nobody had seen Kitty all morning. What reason did they have to believe her when she said he was in there?

Ah, now her headache was coming back. Great. 

“It’s okay,” Kitty said, rubbing her shoulder. “They’ll believe you. Trust me.”

She did. “Yeah, okay.” Mustering whatever bravery she had, she pulled herself to her feet, and then fell into a pose, knees bent, arms stretched out, frilled lizard-style, hissing as she shuffled side-to-side across the room, face locked on him. Kitty stared up at her in bovine wonder. After a few seconds, she stopped abruptly, straightened out, and took a bow. Kitty clapped for her, and tried to give a standing ovation, but he couldn’t quite get to his feet without using his hands, so he had to pause his applause to stand up, then resuming his ovation.

“Whoo, yayy,” he said with lukewarm enthusiasm. “Brava, brava, bravissimo. Totally amazeballs.” 

“Thank you, thank you. But now I must go. My planet needs me.”

“Will you ever return?” Kitty said, moving over to let her reach the door. Hand on the door, with all the drama of a soldier going out to war, she turned to him. At this point, adjusting to the change in theatrics, Kitty had bent his knees a little, ensuring that he was shorter than her, his moist, dewy eyes trembling up at her. “Oh, what will I do without you?”

“You’ll live,” Rafiloe said gruffily, forcing her voice down into the deepest range she could go, all macho. “We shall meet again when the sun is at its equinox. Until then, you mustn’t contact me. Let no one know I was here. If you slip up, I can’t guarantee you’ll see the morrow, my fairest…”

“Oh, Bumper!” Kitty said, clasping his hands dramatically.

She paused. “Bumper?” 

“Yeah, that’s your name. You’re an ex-military cop returning to Zimbabwe to finish your business with a paramilitary officer who escaped during your last mission.”

“Okay, I see,” she said, nodding to herself. “In that case, you’re Bella. Half-vampire, half-angel, half-demon, all realtor. You’re trying to sell me a house, even though I’m so demanding.”

“Right.” He gave a sharp nod before sinking into character, lower lip pouting out, knees glued together, shoulders bunched up. “Please, Bumper! It’s got a combined bathroom-cum-withdrawing room, complete with Victorian panelling and faux-silver detailing. Can’t you see yourself sinking down into the couch after a long day of kicking militant butt?”

“I don’t believe in butts,” she growled. “This meeting is over. Don’t even send me an offer—I don’t want it. Now stand back while I open the door, your stinky fumes would charm anyone without a will of steel like mine.”

“Bummerville,” Kitty said, taking a few shambling steps back. “In another world, I would have loved to drain your blood, sanctify, and corrupt you, all at once.”

“It can’t be, toots. I’ve got neither blood nor soul. Nothin’ but lead, grits, and the occasional hot dog.”

“Okay. Goodbye, then?”

She smiled at him. “Goodbye. I’ll be back soon, though, so it’s more of a, see you.”

“Alright. See you, Gecko.”

“See you, Kitty.” 

With that, she slipped out of the door, and back into the real world.