111. The Beach

The story behind this one is kind of long, so sit back and grab a bag of popcorn or something.

It all started with Alito.

...That alone should make you worry.

Anyway, I've stated earlier that Alito has the mind of a small child. He constantly needs entertainment, which is apparently why he started trying to carve furniture in the first place. However, that must have been starting to get old, because he spent most of yesterday complaining that we never do anything. And while it's sort of true, Nasch, Mizael and Durbe don't like being distracted from the very serious nothing that they are doing. Eventually, Nasch caved in and told Durbe to find something for the red menace to do, but his efforts mostly consisted of games of Barian Jenga and Tiddlywinks and so were ultimately fruitless.

By dinnertime, even Girag was tired of sparring nonstop with Alito, so obviously something had to be done. I suggested drowning him, and Mizael suggested actually doing something, so Nasch settled on a compromise and decided to organize a trip to the beach. I didn't even know Barian World had beaches, but apparently there is one ocean called the Sea of Ill Intent. I'm told that there are legends that Don Thousand, the Barian god, is sealed away somewhere down there, and that his presence does all kinds of weird s*** to the fish and stuff.

Tempted with the possibility of seeing a freakily-mutated angler-fish-dragon-electric-sea-cow, I was actually slightly excited for this beach trip. So I packed up with the rest of them and flew on over to the other side of the world for what I thought would be some moderately enjoyable R&R.

When we actually got to the beach, Mizael and Merag rolled out towels and started tanning, or whatever it is that girls and pretty people do at the beach. Durbe brought along a crystal beach chair (Alito had actually gotten pretty expert at his furniture biz before he gave it up) and a book, so he sat down and stuck his nose in it as soon as we arrived. Alito and Girag challenged Nasch to a game of Barian beach volleyball, and were trying to get me to join Nasch's team to even things out. He and I both said no. I think he ended up clobbering the two of them anyway, though.

My sole purpose in coming on this trip was to catch me some horrifying marine life, so I immediately headed for the ocean. As I ran down the beach, Durbe started yelling after me, telling me not to go in there. Now, I wasn't really sure why he would be saying that, but I figured it was because he's a stuffy guy and didn't want me to come back and get him wet or something, so I kept going. Durbe started to yell at me again, but Nasch actually paused his volleyball game to hush him, saying, and I quote, "just let the crazy jerk go."

By this point, I was beginning to suspect that there was something not quite right about all of this, but my most debilitating flaw tends to be that I believe myself to be invincible. I figured if Nasch knew there was some kind of freaky sea monster in there or something, I'd just fry it and have it for dinner, and then he'd know not to mess with me.

Well, it turns out that there was not anything dangerous in the ocean. I found out when I dove in head-first that the Sea of Ill Intent is actually composed entirely of acid.

I spent the rest of the day writhing in pain on Merag's towel, waiting for the cracks and missing chunks of me to heal, but mostly just getting sand in them. That was the single most painful thing that has ever happened to me… and I didn't get to see any angler-fish-dragon-electric-sea-cows. And it was pretty much all Nasch's fault.

I am never coming back to the beach again.


112. Rooming

Even though I wound up getting severely injured ten minutes into it, the beach trip was actually planned to be a multi-day affair, and Nasch refused to change his plans. So, when the suns went down that day, we all made our way over to a little vacation-shack-type-thing to stay the night. I really, REALLY wanted to leave, but a particularly nasty acid-burn on my wing was preventing me from flying away, so I had to stay put.

Well, it turns out that this shack-type-thing only had four rooms, so most of us would have to share. I was kinda really hoping that somebody would be nice and give the guy in terrible pain his own room, but I also kinda knew in the back of my head that I'd already offended anybody who was nice enough to do that.

Because the dictatorship around here is so all-important that it extends to even really trivial decisions, Nasch ended up being the one to decide who would room with who. And trust me, his choices were totally arbitrary and completely unfair. ...Alright, most of them kinda made sense, but I'm still really upset.

Nasch's first rooming assignment was for him to share a room with Merag. Because Merag is a girl and the rest of us are dudes, Nasch apparently assumes that if she were to room with any of us there would be shenanigans during the night. I think Durbe is the only one he really needs to worry about, but the Overprotective Brother is a strange breed that will not listen to reason. I tried to tell him that none of us would want to mate with her anyway, but all I got in return was The Glare and a slap across the face from Merag.

The second room assignment Nasch made was to put Alito and Girag together. This one was kind of obvious; the only people who can stand those two are they themselves. I personally think that the fact that they're both losers makes them naturally stick together. That, and they both enjoy whining, although I've noticed that Girag only complains in front of Alito.

It was at this point that Mizael butted in, fussing about needing a room to himself. I swear, the guy is such high-maintenance. He had absolutely no reason to need his own room except that he didn't want a roommate, probably because no one else would understand his need to be up at three in the morning to start doing his hair. Naturally, I told Nasch that I should get the single room for the reasons I've already specified, but Mizael countered by accusing me of being whiny and calling my manliness into question. I very politely told him to do something inappropriate to himself, and I also made sure that he knew I wouldn't be taking any bulls*** from a prissy yellow man in a skirt.

At that point, Nasch had to intervene because Mizael attempted to slash my throat with his fingernails. In order to appease the furious dragon guy, Nasch let him have the single room, and Mizael sulked off. I like to think he spent the rest of the night crying in a corner.

Well, that left the final room to me and Durbe. And I'll tell you what, that man is a WAY more annoying roommate than you would think. He's a smart cookie, I'll give him that, but having to stay awake ALL NIGHT LONG while he reads Barian Philosophers Monthly and The Encyclopedia Barianicca OUT LOUD to himself is one of the more painful things I've ever had to suffer through after the acid-burns. Every time I'd start to fall asleep, he'd gasp or make some other noise because whatever he was reading was either really good or really controversial. And then when I'd wake up and glare at him, he'd ask me what I thought about the issue. Man, I do not give a rat's a** about whether Xenon has fifty-four protons or fifty-five! And I don't want him to explain it to me, either. He seemed to think that I didn't understand the ghost in the machine concept, aka mind-body dualism, just because I was trying to get him to stop talking.

So yeah, my night was awful. I think when the time finally comes to kill Nasch, I'll have Durbe talk his ears off first.

...if he even has ears. I don't really know. He could be hiding anything under that tentacle hair.


113. Things I Did Not Want to See

Now, as a race, Barians tend to wear very little clothing, but it's even worse among the Emperors. Compared to the others, Mizael and I are actually dressed pretty modestly. However, despite the lax standards, there is one article of clothing that is absolutely necessary for us menfolk, and without which a Barian male could be said to be embarrassingly naked: the belt. There are actually laws against going out into public without wearing a belt, and the penalty can be pretty severe. It's not like they cover anything private; it's just some kind of social thing, I guess. Still, it's pretty disgusting to see a guy without his belt.

Which is why, when I woke up this morning after an hour of fitful sleep and saw Durbe's belt flung over the back of a chair, I reflexively closed my eyes and felt my way along the wall to the door. I had no idea what Durbe was doing or where he was, but I really did not want to see him au naturale; in fact, the mental image I was getting was so disgusting that I felt like I was going to be sick… also, the fact that my burns were bothering me probably did not help matters.

Once safely in the hallway, I ran to the bathroom, opened the door, and darted inside. Wryly half-expecting to see Merag in there, I was somehow not surprised when, curse my luck, I bumped into someone.

The first thing I noticed was that whoever it was was very wet; the next thing I noticed was that he was also very purple.

That's right; it was Nasch. Apparently, he'd just taken a shower, so... he was completely belt-less.

We both backed up as far away from each other as we possibly could, him swearing loudly and me making various horrified noises. Somehow the door had closed on its own since I entered the bathroom, and my back slammed against it, causing me searing pain from the burns. I shut my eyes tight and fumbled for the doorknob, but even with my eyes closed I was unable to unsee what I'd just unwittingly stumbled upon. That image will be forever burned into my retinas.

Later, at breakfast, Merag noticed that Nasch and I were avoiding eye-contact more than usual, so of course she had to ask about it. Nasch idiotically tried to deny that anything was different from normal, which, of course, only made things worse. I ultimately ended up telling her that I just couldn't stand looking at Nasch's ugly face anymore, because those weird tear-shaped light blue marks under his eyes were unnecessary and offensive to my eyes. I then left the room and went back into the bathroom, which was unoccupied this time, to throw up.

So, if this point system ever becomes public record, that is the excuse I will be using for this particular point. Nasch's blue face-markings are dumb. End of story.


114. Shopping

I'm not sure if this was Merag's idea or Mizael's, but one of them suggested that we spend today shopping. It was probably Mizael. Alito commented that it would be cool if we could all get the same type of thing so we'd look more like a team, which is really stupid, but Nasch and I both felt slightly violated after the… urm, incident, so no one had any serious objections to more clothing.

We ended up going to this place near the beach that sold mostly cloaks and whatnot. Turns out, they conveniently had seven different colors of this certain brand of cowl, so Alito said we should make that our team uniform. For some reason that only Don Thousand knows, the others seemed to agree with him. Well, somebody had to be in their right mind, so I told him that his idea was stupid and refused to have any part in it. Merag had the nerve to try and cajole me into getting one, saying that I was ruining the team spirit and that I wouldn't have to wear it often if I didn't want to. Durbe tried explaining the cowl's practicality, and Mizael said it would be a huge benefit to the world since it hid my face, but what ultimately changed my mind was Nasch's Glare. Ordinarily I wouldn't have given up so easily, but I could tell that if I ignored it this time, it'd come to fists and I really wasn't feeling up to that.

As soon as I grudgingly agreed to get a cowl, Alito made a mad dash for the red one, and suddenly it was like Barian Black Friday up in there. Everyone wanted their favorite color, and they would do anything to get it. I even saw Durbe and Merag trying to wrest the white one out of each other's hands; Durbe ultimately ended up with the grey one, so you can guess who won that fight.

Being reluctant to get a cowl in the first place, I was slightly behind the others and so did not even know what colors there were to choose from until everyone else had swarmed the rack. Looking around, I spotted a nice-looking dark blue one and, thinking that it would match my hair and skin tone, reached out to grab it.

The instant my fingers brushed the cloth, I was literally tackled to the ground. I scrambled to my feet just in time to see Nasch snatch the dark blue cowl from the rack and hug it to his chest before retreating from the fray. So upset was I that I just kind of stood there, eye twitching, until there was only one color left. And guess which color it was.

Purple. I absolutely LOATHE purple. I know that my eyes are purple, but that doesn't stop me from hating the color. I even asked Girag to trade his gross brownish one for mine, but the purple didn't come in his size.

You know what, f*** this beach trip. I'd rather have my life ruined at home, thank you. I'm leaving right now, gimpy wing or not.


115. I Fell Out of the Sky Halfway Back and Dislocated My Shoulder

Technically, this one could be blamed on me and my own stubborn stupidity. But I choose to blame it on Nasch. Because, after all, everything bad that has ever happened to me seems to be somehow his fault.

Plus, I'm definitely not that stupid. Nasch made me do it. I swear.


Author's Note:

Me: This chapter is rated "N" for NEKKID! Or "BB," for Beltless Barians.

Vector: Oh, sure, thanks for putting the warning at the freaking BOTTOM OF THE PAGE.

Me: You're welcome! I wanted to catch you by surprise.

Vector: *glares wickedly* ...point number one…

Me: Aww, don't be like that. I even used other people's suggestions for you, see? 111 is from utopianking and Don Thousand, 112 is from Durbe the Barian, 113 is sort of from Girl with the Fireheart (she only suggested the face-markings bit SO DON'T BLAME HER FOR MY WEIRD S*** [sorry, girl]), and 114 is from FairyLyte.

Vector: ...so, basically, the worst parts are all the stuff that slithers out of your cesspool of a brain.

Me: Pretty much, yeah.

Vector: Alright, you five people who read this, GIVE THE MANIAC SUGGESTIONS. I'll choose the lesser of the two evils any day.

Durbe: I hope I'm not interrupting, but I want to know why my belt was off in this chapter.

Me: Oh, it's implied that you were streaking around the shack.

Durbe: …

Vector: BWA HA HA HA HA HA-

Me: JK, it's not. You actually have more than one belt, so you decided to wear the other one.

Vector: Welp, I'm strangely disappointed.