I DIDN'T KNOW I WROTE FLUFF EITHER!
Armour: Molten Armour (Vanity - Familiar clothes)
Weapon: Molten Bow (Ichor Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/12): Charm of Myths, Ankh Shield, Terraspark Boots, Luxor's Gift, Deific Amulet, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, MOAB, Harpy Ring, Aero Stone, Skyline Wings, Warrior Emblem
Health: (400/400)
He felt drunk.
Not because of spirits, of course. The Monster Knight wouldn't spare him a single moment to sit down and rest his tired feet - much less inebriate himself. But despite he was physically as sober as the day he was born, the ground swayed beneath his feet, the street lamps danced like grass in a tumultuous current, and the moon slowly rotated around him as he clung to The Monster Knight's arm and did his best not to fall headlong into the city cobblestones. It was late. It was so late that it was tomorrow - but he was still walking the streets, so exhausted he wanted to lie down on the filthy roads and just fall unconscious.
But of course, The Monster Knight - the slavedriver he was- continued to tug him along as he stared wide-eyed at all the sights about him. He seemed enamored with The City, the myriad of colours, the endless streets, the twinkling lights and the distant castle. He didn't voice his fascination, he wasn't a talkative man, but over time The Guide had come to learn how to read his body language.
And that body language told him The Monster Knight was still as utterly excited as when he first arrived in The City this morning. He didn't seem to tire. He didn't need to sleep. He hadn't eaten or drank a single thing since arriving in The Capitol, and he showed no signs of needing or wanting anything but to happily wander the night away. He likewise had little regard for The Guide, because despite how much he complained, nagged, tugged at him or pounded his fists against his back, The Knight simply behaved as if weren't there at all. Eventually The Guide just climbed up on his shoulders and sat there, straddling his weightless companion's neck - judging that he'd rather endure the odd looks of passerbys than rub another blister into his heels.
And now, after a full fifteen hours of non-stop tourism - where they'd spent money like water and rubbed shoulders with about half the population of The Capitol, The Guide was almost as hungry as he was tired. He grabbed a fistful of The Monster Knight's feathery coif and yanked at it with far more violence than hair could normally withstand. Of course, The Guide wasn't granted the satisfaction of dislodging a single strand, but he settled with eliciting an annoyed huff out of the man.
"Knight... I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything all day and I'm gonna die."
"..."
This was the fiftieth plea The Guide had peppered him with and, like all the others, it was soundly ignored. He uttered a groan and jabbed his heels into The Knight's gut to no effect whatsoever. Although the man's flesh was so soft it felt like putty - he was as firm as a granite wall against any impact force. It really was quite strange, but The Guide was far past being interested in this:
"Stupid, stubborn bastard."
"..."
Up ahead was a late night shop from which the scent of roasted meat diffused delectably through the air. The smell made The Guide's stomach grumble all the more loudly, and he felt his mouth watering. Tch, how pathetic. Here he was, an intellectual, a professor, reduced to such baseness he found himself drooling at the scent of roasting meat. He kicked at The Knight once more - as if he were a rider spurring his horse, and demanded they eat. Of course, The Knight didn't react at all, and despite all the token abuse The Guide put him through, he didn't once react negatively towards him. If The Guide didn't know any better, he'd think The Knight was rather afraid to be left alone in this new place, but surely not...
"Knight, if you don't make a left into that kebab shop, I swear to the gods I will drool into your hair."
The Guide accentuated his words with another fruitless hair yank, and this time The Knight startled and stopped dead in his tracks. He craned his neck upwards to look at him and The Guide thought he saw the beginnings of suspicious anxiety stewing in those pale, dead eyes. It was almost amusing to see. This was the blood soaked warrior who had killed... only the gods knew how many, yet he looked utterly terrified at the prospect of being salivated on. The Guide deadpanned down at him. If he had more energy, he might have grinned or snickered, but at this point all he really wanted was dinner and a nap.
The Knight's voice was strained and monotonous.
"Guide... surely you won't-"
"You really think I won't? Perhaps you think me kinder than I am."
"..."
"What in heaven's name-... actually I don't care. I don't care anymore."
He sighed and grumbled into the crook of his folded arms as he watched The Monster Knight methodically lay out every item they had purchased throughout their day-long shopping spree and - dutifully - destroy each and every one of them, crushing them into nothing more than invisible powder. What a waste of time and money - but if The Guide was going to save The Stylist from her prison in The Crimson, he knew he was going to put up with a certain degree of bullshit. Why was The Monster Knight even keeping people trapped in The Crimson? He clearly didn't like any of them, and he didn't seem to have any purpose for them either... Does he even know we were trapped?
The Guide sighed into the rather sticky - grease stained linoleum table and dug himself deeper into the cradle of his elbows. He was tired. His brain was fried. It was best he not inquire deeply into these dangerous matters whilst thus afflicted. Instead, he focused on the beautiful scent of roasted meat which had become torturous over the past couple of minutes. Despite he had only ordered his food moments ago - was already cursing the chef for cooking too slowly. He talked to keep his hunger at bay.
"Why bother buying things just to destroy them? Are you some sort of budding shopaholic?"
"..."
The Monster Knight - of course - didn't respond, but he didn't seem angry with the half-insult thrown his way. In fact, The Monster Knight didn't appear to be a very passionate nor aggressive person at all. The Guide could scarcely imagine him as the man who'd nearly hewn his head from his shoulders in a grief fueled frenzy only days ago. But then again, a person did not behave 'normally' when enduring a 'grief fueled frenzy'.
My predecessor must have been very precious to him... thankfully his mood has improved significantly since.
The Guide reached out absentmindedly and picked up the unicorn horn he'd grossly overpaid for. He rotated it in his hand, admiring how the dirty fluorescent lighting glimmered off it's gossamer surface. After a moment, The Monster Knight's leather gloves plucked the horn from his grasp and crushed it to nothing. The Guide huffed and raised his eyes to watch the fruits of his labor disappear. He'd fallen into a drawl.
"Knight... You had better give me a few of those gold bars to repay me for buying all this nonsense."
The Knight gave no verbal response. He simply finished pinching a handful of blue mana crystals out of existence before stacking three sparkling gold bars on The Guide's side of the table. There was no break in his movements as he moved on to the rusty, Broken Hero's sword they'd purchased from a junk dealer. The Guide shifted to stare at the pile of gold before sighing once more. His stomach grumbled. He also grumbled.
"Thanks. Hey, are you gonna order anything?"
The Knight paused to look at him. A few days ago, those pale eyes had made his blood run cold, but now The Guide could meet that gaze without even a hint of discomfort. Somehow he'd perceived he was sitting soundly in The Knight's good graces, although he hadn't the slightest idea why.
"I don't need to eat."
"Have you tried? Have you ever eaten anything?"
The Knight dropped his gaze and continued to crush his way through his shopping. He watched his work and pondered long before responding. There was a note of melancholy in his voice when he finally spoke.
"I ate a piece of that fungal crab... and I drink healing potions when injured. You know I don't need anything else."
"Ah?"
The Guide blinked. What was he supposed to know? Whatever. He shook his head and continued.
"Well, I think you should try to eat something anyways. If you've never had a good kebab, now's the time. Here - look at the menu."
The Guide slid a sticky, stained menu across the table, fully expecting The Monster Knight to ignore him. But much to his surprise, the man put aside his shopping and picked it up, holding it gingerly as he stared blankly at the words and images.
"..."
"Anything pique your interest? Order something. It's awkward eating alone."
"...Guide."
The Monster Knight's expression had tightened in distress. The Guide frowned and cocked his head.
"Is something wrong?"
"Guide, I can't read it."
"...what?"
"..."
The Guide reached over and plucked The Menu from The Knight's hand. Was it stained that badly? or perhaps some printing mishap? A quick look told him the menu was perfectly legible. He looked up to see The Knight's face had fallen. He had averted his eyes and looked rather demure as he finished destroying the rest of his shopping.
And perhaps The Guide really shouldn't have asked, but he wasn't in his right mind at the moment. If one of his colleagues had seen him this night, rumors of his rudeness would have spread like wildfire through his circle of acquaintances. Thankfully, The Monster Knight wasn't feeling violent, because even The Guide would understand if he'd been attacked for such presumptuousness.
"Knight, you can't read?! Goodness, how old are you?! What did you do growing up!?"
The Knight's gaze was fixed on the table. He tried to change the subject. The Guide wouldn't allow him.
"... Guide, something smells odd-"
"No, no no. I want to know. What are you, Twenty-seven? Thirty?"
The Knight's expression was pained when he responded.
"Thirty five... or forty."
"You are not forty."
The Knight was frowning at him now. He looked incredulous as he emphatically asserted his stance. Annoyance was beginning to creep into his voice, yet everything about him appeared to sag very slightly. His voice came out... slightly slurred, but certainly not enough for The Guide to notice.
"Guide, I know how to count. It's been about forty days."
"... what?"
"I know how to count."
"Forty days? A month? You're a baby?"
"..."
The Monster Knight was so deeply offended at the notion of being called an infant, he nearly fell off his seat- needing to catch himself against the edge of the table to stay upright. He screwed up his face into something that might be interpreted as a pout. His eyelids were heavy as he denied the claim with finality.
"I'm not a baby."
"Fine, fine. Sorry."
"Something smells odd."
"It's my kebab that's apparently taking forever to make. Don't worry about it."
"..."
The Guide huffed and once more buried his face into the crook of his elbows. The Monster Knight likewise withdrew, quietly processing the rest of his loot before snagging off his gloves, destroying them, and pulling on new ones. Having finished, he leaned awkwardly over the table to stare down at the menu he'd been unable to read. He seemed to be concentrating very hard as he tried to decipher the meaning of the letters by the pictures alone.
It was pathetic and inefficient. The Guide, a teacher at heart, could not let him be.
"Alright you poor bastard, give it here. Let me teach you."
The Knight blinked rather sluggishly at him before slowly fumbling the menu to his side of the table. He was blinking a lot and his eyes were watering as if something were stinging them. His motions were likewise uncharacteristically clumsy, for prior to this - even his walking was so smooth and graceful it looked more akin to gliding than any biological movement. The change was jarring and The Guide frowned at him.
"G-gui-"
"Hey, you alright buddy?"
"...!"
At this utterance, The Knight's eyes snapped wide open - as if he'd been electrocuted. Something in his expression looked so utterly devastated, The Guide couldn't help but feel worried for the man. He snapped his fingers in front of The Knight's face to draw his focus.
"Hey, maybe we should leave. You could probably use a nap. I'll let you crash on my couch." The Guide called over his shoulder to the counter where his Kebabs were supposedly being prepared.
"Chef! Can we get this packag-... Chef?"
There was no chef. Just the rotating rounds of meat and flavour and oil sizzling tantalizing on the grill. It was then that The Guide sensed what the roasting spices were meant to mask. Cooking gas? Or... no, something else. He glanced at The Knight and found the man nearly collapsed over the table, drooling a puddle beneath his nose and doing everything in his power not to fall into it. A blade had appeared in his hand, but he hadn't the power to grasp it. Something was very wrong.
"Hey, hey get up."
Now, even The Guide was feeling it. The weight on his limbs, the sluggishness draining his strength and causing his feet to stick to the ground. Thankfully, a bout of adrenaline staved off the worst of the gas's effects and he quickly ran about the table and grabbed The Monster Knight beneath the arms. The man - despite being fully grown - only weighed about as much as a stuffed backpack, so The Guide had no problem slinging him over his shoulder before making a dash for the door-
*thud... rattle*
And the moment he opened it, he found himself face to face with thirty greedy smiles, and the barrel of a gun.
Guide2: Easy! now you try! First get the jar and-
Monster Knight: *pulls out a gun*
G2: That's a gun
MK: Yes.
Haha... MK has hella problems