Renfaire Fantasy: Corpse Confessions (Patreon)

    The padded cutlasses hammered and beat a staccato rhythm of violence against Dwelin’s shield, never able to reach past it to score a hit on an arm, shoulder, or leg. It was frustrating but not unexpected—he was one of the experienced Daegonhir fighters, and adopted what amounted to a resting posture where the big round shield was braced at the bottom against his knee and at the top with his arm. Whenever Emily’s strikes tried to skirt around the thing towards the target behind, he shifted the edge of the shield just enough to ensure her swords bounced off of it.

    She wasn’t tall enough to reach over his shield. Attempting to dart in and cut his legs out from underneath him resulted in him just withdrawing his forward leg for a moment and then replacing it. Worse yet, he was using minimal movement and conserving as much energy as possible, while she was a storming sea of surf and spray. She raged and surged and broke upon the bulwark but could go no further than that. Dwelin chose his moment to strike and then she was dead, because his sword flashed out between her flailing swords and gave her a firm tap in the side.

    “No!” Emily gasped, letting one of the cutlasses fly out of her grip. “NooOOoooo—!”

    Her remaining cutlass performed one last ineffectual swish through the air as she stumbled back and then down to one knee, and then it dropped as well so that she could clutch at her side with both hands. The determined scowl she had been wearing bled away as she made sure her face fell in wide-eyed, open-mouthed horror at realizing the extent of her imagined injury. Emily’s lips worked as if attempting to form a final plea and instead released a choking gurgle that then became a death rattle. She collapsed, sprawling out across her side. It was important that she affixed her eyes upon her killer with her very best unblinking haunting stare for as long as she was able.

    “Hmph,” Dwelin grunted.

    The man lowered his shield and stepped up to her fallen form so that he could give her one last ritualistic skewering with his sword as if to ensure that she was really dead, and then ambled on past her to watch the other ongoing matches. Emily stayed dead and frozen in place right where she was, only allowing herself to blink when she felt sure he wasn’t looking anymore. For one, because committing to the bit and playing dead for longer was cool. Only the great LARPers went and did actual dramatic deaths and then stayed dead for a bit. The amateurs and lazy people who weren’t all that serious into things didn’t even go the whole way down when they died, they just acknowledged their death with a scowl and a nod and wanted to start over.

    Also right now Emily was feeling pretty bushed, and taking a minute to just flop down and die a while was an excellent way to catch her breath.

    Play-acting in costumes was cool. The simulated combat was fun, although the rules took some practice to really internalize and understand instinctively. Christine, Brian, and Kelly often still had to pause to think sometimes after successfully hitting or being hit, to mentally translate what had happened into the terms of the Daegonhir live-action battlegaming rules. It was great to just get them out and doing something again, like it felt like they were meant to.

    They’d all ‘officially’ gotten together at a big anime convention, and in her mind it felt like that set the tone for how their relationship should be. An event. Something special. It was the ordinary daily life routines afterwards that felt like they weren’t quite right, or that they were missing something important. The first month after AnimeCon was just a blur of anxiety to her, because Brian had been in a coma or healing stasis or whatever that even was, while Kelly started a part-time job and Rebecca was off holding Chloe in captivity.

    Then, Brian woke up and was back, Steph visited with them again—although only for a day or two—Chloe was transformed into Christine, and then there was that unexpected sudden scare with the Masters that had them all completely on edge again. The tension had eventually drained away in the weeks since then, and they had settled into a new version of normal.

    Brian was driving forklifts at a new place and his job started in the early morning, so Emily would ride with him to work and then take his car back. A few hours later, Emily would drive Kelly to her late morning to midday shift. Because Kelly as a Dollarydoos cashier was only part time, Emily was then able to swing back out with the car in the afternoon and pick both of them up. Then, they all had an hour or two with Christine, before Christine went out for her evening shift, where she now worked as a waitress at Emily’s former workplace the hoighty-toighty Lucca Italiano.

    Emily had proclaimed that she was in her soccer mom era, because she was tracking everyone’s schedules on the whiteboard and ferrying everyone about so often. Domestic duties otherwise weren’t actually her forte, but she helped whenever Kelly was doing laundry and they sat and folded clothes together, and she happily played dish bitch for whoever was cooking. Christine became their live-in housemaid, preparing most of the meals and packing everyone’s lunches—and after a surprise express package from Stephanie came in the mail, Christine was now also scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom in a newly tailored and rather skimpy maid outfit.

    Her scrubbing DAILY is honestly a bit performative, though.

    Those areas didn’t need cleaned that often after all, because while Brian’s magic may not be exciting or flashy it packed a punch. More often than not they were all supernaturally clean and fresh. While that didn’t extend in totality to cover the whole actual apartment, it certainly did feel like things weren’t accumulating dust or grime like they probably should have with how many of them were sharing relatively small living accommodations there. Christine’s constant makework added to the surreal effect of their whole situation, like they were living on a stage set for a romcom. Everything always a little too neat and orderly, aesthetic. Everyone was already abnormally presentable in appearance because of the charm effect, with even their worst bedhead always somehow ending up in the kind of artful disarray that would take an hour in a salon chair.

    They were having an alarming amount of sex now, and the passionate period of intense attraction and insatiable desire for each other showed no signs of cooling whatsoever. Even when fucking became regular routine it was never, ever boring. It was like having recess hour as a kid all over again—even when it was always the same ‘playground,’ there was a lot to do and it was still the most anticipated part of each day. The four hadn’t even really pushed boundaries or experimented with too much of anything novel recently. What they were doing was already great, and they wanted to save new experiences beyond that for when they were reunited with Stephanie, so as to not have her feel like she’d missed out on any major intimate milestones.

    More than the constant and explicit fornication, the sheer amount of intimacy and affection was game-changing for everyone. Brian was receiving more honest affection, adoration, and pure love than he’d ever had in his life, and his long-neglected psyche and soul weren’t just nourished now, but experiencing actual abundance. Each day he was a little less brittle and broken. Likewise, being pulled into their orbit brought Kelly more and more into healthy balance, her harsh attitude had softened quite a bit more. The girl had apparently expected to wreck everyone’s relationship right away with out of control stubborn pride or careless biting remarks. Instead Emily saw Kelly docile as a kitten for Brian, and often the first one to step back and apologize after saying something cruel to Emily or Christine. Which admittedly did still happen sometimes, but still.

    Christine’s… still fucking crazy, Emily thought. But, now she’s like OVERCOMPENSATING trying to distance herself from who she was as ‘Chloe.’ Which, I mean. Yeah. Mad respect, there. Never thought I’d live to see it, but now that I am, I’m totally here for it. Good on her? Like yeah, she does take it too far running in the other direction with that, but like. That’s just her, who she is. She was born with some dials set to eleven, or something. Brian’s absolutely her best bet because he makes sure to help curb things when she goes too far, do things in more… moderately? Moderation? I guess is the term?

    “I died,” Kelly came over to report. “Again. You good? You been layin’ there for a minute.”

    “Mm-hmm!” Emily replied with cheer, refusing to budge an inch. “I’m a dead carcass. A corpse. Carrion for the crows. I’m like, the friggin’ best dead carcass. Gonna pull vultures and shit for miles, bro. I see them bitches be circlin’!”

    “Count me in,” Kelly sighed, plopping down on the ground beside her and resting a hand on Emily’s side. “Barely done anything and I’m already like, fucking beat. Why do we have endless stupid stamina when we’re fucking, but then I swing around stupid swords for a minute and feel like I’m done?”

    “Probably magic,” Emily answered honestly, lowering her voice enough to ensure the others wouldn’t overhear. “Like, we’re not really in great shape, we just seem to have a lot of energy certain sometimes. Form ‘dat special feedback loop or something when we’re uh, going at it, I think?”

    “Brian’s still going,” Kelly pointed out. “He and that other guy have been at it for—forever. Like five minutes already. I don’t think they’re seriously even trying to kill each other, or one of them would be dead by now. Right?”

    “They’re having fun,” Emily said with a tiny shrug. “That’s enough.”

    “Yeah,” Kelly sighed again. “It’s kind of cool, I guess? Never stopped to think about it, but Brian uh, he doesn’t ever get to hang out with other dudes much, huh? Not even weirdos like his local friend guys. So, this works. To let him have some sorta male-bonding thing. Time with the dudes. That’s healthy. Right?”

    “Kelly Killarney, are you jealous?” Emily teased.

    She took a moment to twist her fallen body just enough so that she could turn a bit and appreciate her girlfriend. With her brilliant red hair, perfect features, and a bust so generous in filling the front of that ornate tunic that peasant market town sellers might summon the guards upon a possible melon thief—Kelly was like a character who’d stepped right out of one of those fantasy animes.

    One of those ISEKAI animes, the kind that uses a whole damn story synopsis for a title.

    “Nah, I just,” Kelly fidgeted with her long sword. “I dunno. Maybe a bit. Of him, of you. Like, talk up my ‘hot chick’ pretty privilege all you want, and yeah. Okay, deserved. But also, at the same time, I can’t turn that off and have others be chill around me or treat me completely normally, ever. Everyone wants to fuck me, yeah great. Took me ages to even find the rare people who could even just banter and joke around with me without it being either an alpha bitch posturing thing with chicks, or guys trying to get in my pants, or both.”

    “Mmm,” Emily grunted.

    “You can say I’m being stupid,” Kelly said. “You’re the best person in any kind of position to do that. I count on you for that.”

    “You’re not, exactly,” Emily said. “You’re not being stupid. Everything has its upsides and drawbacks, that’s just how shit works. Just, easier to not see the downsides everyone else is dealing with. So. Yeah, you’re griping about some real first-world problems bullshit, but also it’s still kinda valid? You’re my total fucking ten out of ten smokeshow girlfriend and I’ll always be a little jelly, but I also don’t put much thought into how sometimes that might suck.”

    “Weird seeing Brian around other guys,” Kelly admitted. “I thought that—I don’t even know. Where’s all the dick-measuring contests? In my head somehow, even Brian would still be all I got something to prove and have to like, establish dominance, or do some aggressive alpha male caveman bullshit. Power play. Around meeting new guys. Instead he’s just like—normal. He’s Brian. He’s our normal Brian.”

    “Can’t wrap your head around it?” Emily grinned. “I, uh. Kell baby, I kinda question your taste in company if those are the kinda dudes your whole life you’ve got all these assumptions built up from or like, based on?”

    “I guess,” Kelly shrugged. “Yeah. I just thought—I thought that’s how they all were. Because that’s how they always were, around me. I mean some were worse than others, yeah. But, still.”

    “Hmm,” Emily said, finally abandoning her rigor mortis so she could stretch out a bit and sit up on one elbow in the grass. “Probably another downside to you being the bombshell babe? Attract all the wrong kind of dudes, most times. But yeah, Brian’s not like that. Bri’s always been pretty low-key with things. Hides his power level. Doesn’t even try to out macho-man Michael or Will, unless they know they’re all just B.S.-ing around like they do. I don’t think he feels like he has anything to prove? Which is funny, hah, because he wound up with Chloe. Who was like that complete opposite.”

    “Yeah,” Kelly said.

    “Babe?” Emily asked. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Do you just really not like the LARP thing? I know we kinda dragged you along into all the geekery kicking and screaming, but if—”

    “Just jealousy,” Kelly shrugged. “I don’t have the uh, mental elasticity or whatever it is that’s required to get into things like the rest of you do. I wish I did, because I do see you guys having so much fun with it. Well, maybe except for Christine. Never really can tell with her.”

    “You talk with Steph about it?” Emily asked.

    “Yes?” Kelly said. “No. I don’t know. I’m not sure she’d even get it, outside of like, sensing that there’s something off and different about me, compared to you guys. And, I hate even imagining that that’s how she sees this with me. Her charm powers don’t work long-distance, so. Hate bothering her with my stuff or forcing her to play therapist for my not-important issues.

    “Like, even now it’s recording, but she’s not really there. She has other stuff to do, papers, coursework, the phone’s just set up so that she can watch our practice later when she can get cozy and watch, give it her full attention. I’m always pushing video calls and stuff on her as it is. Feel like if I want to change, I need to be the one to at least try to work at it first, before going and bothering her to like, do it for me. To fix me.”

    “I think you’re very set in your ways,” Emily elaborated on her thoughts. “Not saying I’m not, too. I very much am? To everyone’s detriment? Hah. Change is hard. We at least get the benefit of being like, more malleable than most, because of charm magic bullshit—”

    “It isn’t even just that?” Kelly admitted with frustration. “It’s like. By now I’ve already caught plenty of glimpses of the future going to the renaissance fair thing with you guys. Memories. And, yeah I like being with you all, because I love you all, but I don’t actually have fun there in the same way you all do. At the fair. I don’t get into it like you guys. It feels like it’s already set in stone that I don’t, so I can’t even try to be optimistic about maybe potentially liking it? Or, trying to? Does that make sense?”

    “Self-fullfilling prophecy,” Emily said. “Yeah, that makes total sense. You see ahead to not having fun with it, and so then of course you don’t have fun with it. You were already uh, pre-disposed not to, and then whatever Sends just reinforce that impression, and—”

    “Yeah,” Kelly blew out a long breath. “It’s just. It’s frustrating. And like, yeah I can change things or set out to make sure my own specific future turns out different, maybe, but is it even okay for me to do that? Or, to do that too much? To rock the boat and well, potentially invalidate the actual utility of even having future knowledge, lose out all the specifics from Sends, just so I can be selfish and learn to act goofy with you guys? To have fun? When we already know we have run-ins with the Masters coming up.”

    “Yes?” Emily answered.

    “Yes, what do you mean yes,” Kelly scoffed. “Yes, as in—?”

    “I mean, yes, duh?” Emily said instead. “Of course it’s okay to want to be happy? To figure out how to enjoy stuff. Brian will say the same thing. If you’re scanning futures and see all the Kellys being miserable, then yeah, let’s hard pivot and figure out something else? Or, at least try?”

    “I’m not like, miserable,” Kelly corrected. “It’s just me being stupid and in my head about pointless stuff that I need to get the fuck over anyways. I still have you guys in all the timelines, I’m still in love and things are fine. Fine enough. I just can’t… engage with things like LARPing, not like the rest of you do.”

    “Well…” Emily quirked her lip. “It’s just like… we’re interested? In this stuff? And, we let that interest slide towards obsession. Not like, the whole damn way over into that, but towards it? At least? Cosplay. LARP stuff. Games, movies. To the extent that we want to learn about it, get into it, get uh, be involved? Try it out? We see people doing cool stuff and we’re like, ‘hey let’s do that too.’ Except, our own sorta takes on it? Like, I know you and I are wired differently and all, but it’s hard for me to understand what’s not to get. I mean, you’ve had hobbies, right?”

    “Yeah, of course,” Kelly said. “Smoking. Drinking? Fashion. I’d party. You know I was into the music scene for a while, so. That. Shows, concerts, that kind of stuff.”

    “That’s uhhh?” Emily winced. “I mean music would count, sure, fashion, yeah kinda—”

    “Blue, Lady Killy!” Rebecca called over. “We’re starting the next set of matches. Are you two sitting this round out?”

    “Er—yeah, sorry!” Emily yelled. “We’re still dead, I think?”

    “Yeah,” Kelly agreed. “I’m still dead.”

    “Fallen corpses, grisly death strewn about the battlefield!” Emily cried. “Don’t mind us. I actually should be good to go again in a bit. Just catchin’ my breath some more.”

    One of the other college newbies also took a break off in the weeds to the other side of the clearing, and they watched as the remaining fighters switched partners for new match-ups. The odd number of participants made Rebecca draw her sword and step in to fight rather than acting as the referee—or herald, in Daegonhir terms. Dwelin’s smug expression fell as he tapped weapons with her with obvious reluctance, and Emily thought that maybe the guy had been having a bit too much fun in steamrolling all of the newbies and was in for an ego check.

    Brian faced off against another one of the college guys, and Emily couldn’t help but smile as the two clashed. The boffer weapons turned this way and that as the pair dueled, a quick unexpected swipe would make Brian duck back out of the way with a grin, his attempted thrusting stab was in return batted away with the loud thwap of swords hitting each other. The back and forth strikes and parries and misses while Brian wore his sexy determined smile were so enormously entertaining to her that by the time Emily even remembered to glance back over towards Dwelin and Rebecca, Dwelin was laid out on the ground—already dead, somehow.

    Shoot, I didn’t catch it! Wanted to see how she got past his big stupid shield when he turtles up like he does. I KNOW there’s some sort of special trick or technique to it.

    “I just feel like I’m missing something,” Kelly confessed. “I want to be into it, because all of you are into it, it’s just… not grabbing me? I can’t get engaged the way you guys do. There’s this huge disconnect. And, I’ve tried. I made the big dumb sword. It’s not even just a boring ordinary like, standard one. Tried to go out of my way and make it, I dunno, different, unique. But, even then it doesn’t feel special to me, it’s just a… it’s a big dumb sword.

    “We’re working on the corset and stuff for my wench outfit, and I’m pretty confident I can rock it,” Kelly continued. “And, it’s like everything still just isn’t clicking. Every time I try I feel fake, or like a liar, or like I’m greasy all over with imposter syndrome and need to come clean to you guys about just… not being like you guys. This all feels so stupid too, because I know you all would be cool with it just not being my thing, and none of you would try to force me into it. But, I want it to be my thing, I want to do it all with you, make amazing special memories about it with you all, I want to be a part of it and love it the way you guys do, and I’m just not… I’m just not…”

    “Kell baby, I dunno how to help you,” Emily admitted. “At least, not with this. S’like you’re this uh, songbird that can fly but can’t swim, and me? I’m straight up a fucking fish. Who’s never known anything outside of the water. Let’s the both of us bring this issue to like, a duck. A duck that knows both sides and can help like, mentally translate the different lines of thinking? Or wait, a penguin? Gawd, I’m so shit at analogies sometimes. Botched it! But like, do you get what I’m saying?”

    “So… Rebecca?” Kelly guessed.

    “Probably?” Emily shrugged. “Maybe after she gets zapped in and becomes one of us officially, even. I think today’ll be the day. Her power back then felt weird, who knows? Maybe it does something with that. Her tight shoelaces, huggy-feely thing.”

    “I’m… not great at being open with people about my problems,” Kelly admitted. “Sometimes. Certain problems. Unless we’re super super close, or unless—well, Steph was a special case, back then. I’m uh. I’m not sure I could even talk shop like this with Brian, yet. I don’t like showing him my stupid sides. I think that’s part of it. Or, me being insecure in uh, certain ways. I can’t yet, not completely.”

    “Like I said, it’ll be the both of us,” Emily promised. “I’ll be right there with you, babe. And, really. I get it. Thank you for trusting me with this. I know I’m like, nothing BUT stupid sides. But for real, I care about you, and we’re gonna figure something out since this is legit bothering you. You help me bring out my cool bitch confident side, I’m gonna help bring out your stupid. Rebecca, or Christine, or whoever you’re comfortable with’ll help bridge whatever bits we can’t figure out. It just works.”

    “I even thought maybe I’d start drinking again,” Kelly grimaced. “Maybe some alcoholic assistance would loosen up the parts of me that just can’t gel with the program here naturally. Let me be loose and open. Play pretend with everyone and be a goofball, get into LARP character, unwind and be silly outside of the specific safe ways I mentally allow myself to joke around with you guys. But. Yeah, I don’t control it. I know that’s the point, but I don’t want to not be in control and have my nasty side come out with you guys, like, ever. Which always happens when I drink.”

    “Hmm,” Emily pondered. “You know, I hear you say stupid shit in front of Brian, but it’s always like, clever stupid shit. Because you have to be cool. Calculated to go against the grain, not ever something actually accidentally out of place. Not like, anything where he could just look at you and be all, ‘wow, she actually is kind of a total dumbass.’”

    “Yeah, yeah,” Kelly agreed. “That’s it. That’s just it. I’ve got whatever part of me that is just like, tensed up. I cannot relax it on my own, or let myself be… I don’t even know how to put it. Normal?”

    “Vulnerable?” Emily suggested. “I mean you have, but—bit by bit. I feel like there’s stages to it, for relationships especially. Some couples are comfortable crying in each other’s arms way, way before they ever are comfortable passing gas around each other, and all that. Not that I’m even sure we can do that, anymore? You get what I mean, though—we blitzed relationships from A to Z as though by magic, hah, and now maybe we need to go back and uh, reaffirm some of those letters we might’ve skipped past a bit too fast along the way, there. Relationship-wise.”

    “Okay,” Kelly said. “I guess. I guess that makes sense. In my head I can be vulnerable with Brian, but I can’t ever be gross, or disappointing, or—yeah. I can only be those certain kinds of acceptable aesthetic vulnerable? Which, uh, which means I’m mentally very shallow with how I allow myself to appear vulnerable?”

    “Kell,” Emily laughed. “Bri had to like, talk me down from a panic attack when it first came time to lift up my shirt and show off me jubblies. Remember? You were there. How weird and insane I was with all that? You and Steph were literally right there. Whereas now, I just—fuck it, I whip ‘em out. Well, what little there is to even whip out. My itty bitties. Which are barely even there. They ain’t much. They ain’t much, but they’re honest work?”

    “Pfft,” Kelly snorted. “Well, I like them? A lot.”

    “Thank you,” Emily said. “I know that now, I know you do. Just—fuck, man. That’s what insecurities are. Yours and mine aren’t the same mental hangups, but then also at some level, aren’t all of them the same? Put yourself out there as much as you can with him, with us, and we’ll be gentle and caring ‘cause we love you, and everyone will eventually get the fuck over all of it.”

    “Yeah,” Kelly said in a glum voice. “Christine, too.”

    “She’s—yeah, maybe,” Emily winced. “We’ll get her there? That’s just uh. We’ll have all hands on deck, by then, and yeah no problem. Me, you, Steph, Rebecca, Brian? Maybe a tiny pinch of magic? Peace of cake, extreme mental issues solved and sorted. Probably.”

    “I think that ‘tiny pinch of magic’ is doing a crazy amount of the work, there,” Kelly said. “Because, without it—”

    “Well, I think that maybe the real magic is the friends we made along the—” Emily began.

    “Would you quit with that?” Kelly scoffed. “What’s that even from?”

    “I dunno, everything?” Emily shrugged. “Like half or more of all stories ever told set up some treasure or macguffin as their end goal, but then want to plot twist the ending and just reinterpret the journey or struggle itself as equally meaningful for its own sake? But, I mean. Fuck that noise, man, where’s the treasure we were promised in the first place?! Treasure, or we riot.”

    “It’s not half or more of all stories,” Kelly paused. “Is it? Okay, it’s definitely some of them. Maybe a lot of them?”

    “Half or more,” Emily said. “Just you wait. Three thousand episodes of the Grand Piece anime are gonna go by, and when they get to the end, do you think the Red-Scarf pirates are actually gonna find the real Grand Piece? No one even believes that anymore.”

    “Don’t know what that even is, but fuck that,” Kelly agreed. “Treasure, or we riot.”

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