Requiem hid himself in an isolated niche in Pearlview and attempted to unlock the Volume Overlimit requirement for Siren’s Song. He tried various kinds of telepathy: short shouts, yelling words, singing at high volume, anything he could think of. He was sure he was louder than Sirena had been when she succeeded, but the system message failed to appear for him.
:Dammit!: he swore, punching the nearest coral wall. He swore again when the rough surface lacerated his knuckles.
His frustration and embarrassment only increased when the elf, Fey, swam into view.
Requiem did not understand the girl at all. His first impression of her was of her hovering quietly behind that human warrior, Blade, the picture of a shy, passive girl.
Every subsequent interaction with her confused him more. Her reactions to his words and actions seemed so bizarre; when he tried to be nice, she reacted negatively, but at other times, she would be surprisingly empathetic and helpful.
:What’s up?: Fey asked in greeting as she came within conversational distance.
Requiem had nothing new to report, so he made a vague sound of acknowledgement (also known as a ‘grunt’).
He immediately regretted not talking more, as Fey took the opportunity to notice the isolated surroundings and small cloud of blood around his scraped knuckles. When she spoke, he braced himself for a comment about his lack of progress with Siren’s Song.
:You’re actually a singer in real life, aren’t you?: Fey asked instead.
Requiem’s brow knitted in confusion. :Yeah?: he answered warily.
Fey ignored the question he implied. :Think of it as turning up the volume on your microphone while singing quietly.: After a pause, she said, :Okay, I’m off to find Sirena and Blade; later!: and swam away.
Requiem considered her words. After a moment, he began to sing a low, quiet song. Concentrating on maintaining the velvety tone of his singing, he gradually increased the volume of telepathy until he could be performing for a crowd of hundreds.
***
:Oh, they’re so beautiful.: The NPC mermaid cooed over the flower arrangement Fey had brought in a jar.
:May I keep the flowers?: the NPC asked. :I’ll trade you my necklace for it.: She held out a simple chain holding an exquisitely carved piece of gem coral in the shape of a complex polyhedron.
In Fey’s eyes, the pendant was clearly more valuable than her jar of common flowers. :Sure, I guess,: she agreed, not quite happy with an unequal trade that cheated the other party. :The flowers are going to die in a few days, though,: she warned.
:That’s fine,: said the NPC, pressing the coral carving into Fey’s hand. She swam off happily with the jar of flowers.
Sirena slid the chain out of Fey’s grasp as smoothly as a moderately talented pickpocket. :This is clearly for me,: she said with satisfaction.
:Hey, what?: Fey complained. :I did all the work here.:
Sirena made a cutesy face that was completely wasted on her friend. :It enhances magic,: she explained cheerfully. :Magic inscriptions in Fantasia are based on geometric shapes.:
Fey opened the item description:
Fey sighed in defeat. There was no arguing that the item belonged with the group’s only mage. Sirena grinned and slipped the chain over her head.
:What’s next?: Fey asked.
Blade answered. (Yes, he’s been there the whole time.) “Well, we asked around, and it turns out that water swifts are level 40, so…”
:Oof,: said Fey as if she had been (lightly) punched in the abdomen. :I don’t really want to stay down here for longer than it takes to get your land legs,: she said to Sirena.
:What’s wrong with “down here”?: asked Sirena, hands on scaled hips.
:It’s wet,: answered Fey. :My fingers are getting all prune-y.:
Blade looked curiously down at his hands. In the salt water of the ocean, his fingertips did not wrinkle[i]. Shaking his head free of the random consideration (*infected by Fey*), he rejoined the conversation. “I think this is too important of a quest to give up just to get back to land earlier.”
:Psh, who said anything about giving up?: Fey made a dismissive gesture. :We should just figure out the rest of it on our own.:
Blade very nearly expressed a sentiment along the lines of, ‘You can’t just “figure out” a quest,’ but realized that Fey would probably reply with something like (a raised eyebrow and), ‘Why not?’
He remained silent as Sirena asked, :Did you figure something out?:
The parts of Fey’s brain that were supposed to be devoted to basic tasks like paying attention to her surroundings and walking without tripping over her own feet were instead used to muse over various (random) topics. Very occasionally, these musings resulted in ideas of material use. :So I was thinking about what the whale said. She basically implied that our minds naturally limit telepathic singing in the ways that real singing is limited.:
Neither Sirena nor Blade particularly remembered Laaguuna implying any such thing. Sirena hid the confusion better (*just go with it*) and nodded encouragement for Fey to continue.
:So, if we figure out what all the limits are and learn how to sing past the limits, then we’ll unlock siren’s song,: Fey concluded.
The task sounded simple enough, except for the “figure out what all the limits are” part. Fortunately, this was one of the rare occasions that Fey’s musings had amounted to ideas of material use. :Obviously, we already figured out that volume is one. The next one is probably pitch, since I already lowered my voice when I talked to the whales.:
:Hmm, let’s see.: Sirena began to hum a descending scale from middle C. After about two octaves, she had to pause and really concentrate, but eventually managed to produce notes belonging to the bass vocal range as she descended another two octaves.
:Try high notes, too,: Fey suggested.
Sirena started singing an ascending scale. Her natural voice was already soprano, so she had to travel into almost ‘dog-whistle’ territory to really exceed her upper register.
:Nice,: said Sirena, :what’s next?:
:Ummm…: Fey pondered for a moment. :Breathing?: she ventured. :I guess you can hold a note for as long as you want.:
Sirena made a face. :That seems too obvious.: Nonetheless, she began to sing a song with continuous phrases, not pausing the flow of sound where she would normally need to draw a breath. At its conclusion, several minutes later:
Sirena was really excited. :Wow, we’re going to finish the quest tonight! What’s next?:
:... I’ve got nothing,: Fey admitted. She had no idea how many unlocks were required to complete the quest, and the idea of trying to think of a possibly large number of subtle limits to break was daunting.
Sirena sighed (*deflated*). :Oh well, three out of five isn’t bad.:
:Five? Where’d you get five from?:
:It just seemed like a good number for a quest.:
:It’s probably twelve or something,: said Fey pessimistically.
A long moment passed as Fey, Sirena, and Blade each tried to think of another limit of singing that telepathy could overcome.
Fey was the first to give up; she generally left this kind of thinking to her subconscious. :I’m hungry. What do people eat down here?:
:Seafood,: Sirena answered promptly.
“I could eat,” said Blade.
Seafood was not Fey’s favourite, but they had not eaten all day, so it was no time to be picky. :Let’s go.:
As the party travelled to the nearest restaurant, Fey asked, :How do people cook down here?:
:Very carefully.:
***
Cooking was indeed a dangerous activity underwater. It was accomplished by using fire magic to heat the water around the food to boiling. Unless very precisely controlled, a would-be chef could end up cooking his own flesh along with the fish.
To reassure restaurant patrons that they would not meet that rather unpleasant fate, they were separated from the cooking area by a wall of clear glass. Rather than conventional tables and chairs, the restaurant boasted tiered seating on a magically-grown coral reef. Diners sat in loops of coral shaped like inner tubes, preventing them from drifting away on water currents.
Fey, Sirena, and Blade were about halfway through their (fishy) meal when Requiem appeared. Sirena was the first to spot the merman hovering near the restaurant entrance.
:I wonder what he wants.:
Fey turned to see who Sirena was talking about, then answered, :To finish the quest, I’m assuming.:
The trio was seated in such a way that Requiem had to swim up to find them; he did so, body language somewhat different than before.
:And how’s Siren’s Song going for you?: Sirena asked with venomous sweetness.
:I learned it,: Requiem snapped. Visibly reining in his anger, he asked, :Fey, may I speak with you alone?:
Woah, I thought people only did that in movies. Fey’s expression clearly showed her surprise, but after a pause, she said, :Sure,: and extricated herself from her seat. Merman and elf swam to the other side of the coral reef for privacy.
Sirena leaned over and twisted at an extreme angle in order to spy on the pair. :What do you think he’s saying?: she asked Blade.
Blade shrugged, taking another bite out of his fish. “I don’t think it’s any of our business.”
Sirena gave an airy (watery?) wave. :Don’t be silly; Fey totally assumes I’m spying right now.:
“What about Requiem?”
:Never mind Requiem. Fey’s my best friend and I reserve the right to spy on her while she’s talking to idiot playboys.:
Blade did not quite know how to respond to that, so the conversation fell silent until,
:Ooh, look at that body language. He’s totally into her.:
“What? No way,” said Blade, curious despite himself.
:See for yourself,: Sirena urged, waving him forward without looking away from her spying.
Blade found himself leaning out of his seat; his vantage point was such that he did not need to undergo the contortions Sirena was performing (which was good, because he definitely wasn’t flexible enough). Indeed, Requiem’s body language was quite intent on Fey, whereas Fey’s was aloof (*fun word*) as she politely listened to him speak. “Huh. I wonder what’s going on.”
:Ohmygod.: Sirena managed to latch onto Blade’s arm in excitement even as her gaze stayed glued to the private (“private”) conversation. :He’s totally fallen for her!:
Blade tried not to wince at Sirena’s long nails digging into his arm. “Why would he suddenly fall for her?”
:She totally flipped the trigger when she was nice to him after I stressed him out.:
Sirena’s words confused Blade in multiple ways. “Huh?”
Sirena released her grasp in order to poke Blade. :Someone being nice to you when you’re stressed is a classic way of triggering a crush.:
Blade considered the explanation and decided it made sense. “Okay, but when was she nice to him?”
:When she taught him how to do the Volume Overlimit thing, duh. There’s no way that idiot could have figured it out by himself. Plus, she’s really good at explaining things so even idiots can understand.:
Blade thought back to all the instances that Fey had confused him with a distinct lack of explanation. “Fey is definitely really bad at explaining things.”
:Aww, poor baby.: Sirena actually looked up from spying in order to pet Blade on the shoulder with amusement and sympathy. :Fey’s really good at explaining things, but she rarely does. You have to be quick-witted around her.: She abruptly straightened as Fey and Requiem turned towards their table, wincing as her abdominal muscles protested their abuse.
Fey and Requiem arrived at the table to find Sirena and Blade paying more attention to their food than strictly necessary. Fey slid back into her seat, asking Requiem, :Are you joining us?:
:Nah, I have to go practice. See you tomorrow, Fey!: Requiem swam off.
The moment he was out of telepathic earshot, Sirena demanded, :So? What’d he say?:
Fey answered without stopping her eating. (Ah, the benefits of telepathy.) :He thanked me for explaining the Volume Overlimit, and then I explained the other two unlocks we figured out, and then he thanked me again.:
:Oh, he totally likes you,: Sirena said with relish. (No ketchup? Sad.)
“Uh, how does that prove anything?” Blade asked.
Fey sighed resignedly. :I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Sirena’s evaluation. He touched my elbow twice while we were talking.: (Apparently, this kind of aggravation makes our heroine pull out the essay-type vocabulary.)
“What’s so special about an elbow?”
To prove her point, Fey asked, :And how many times have you touched my elbow in the week we’ve been adventuring together?: A pause to allow Blade to recall never performing such an action. :Exactly. It’s not where, it’s the fact he did it at all.:
Sirena laughed at Fey’s put-upon expression. :Hey, cheer up; it could be worse.:
Blade stared at Fey. He knew she was an unusual girl, but… “Aren’t you supposed to be happier?”
Fey raised her eyebrow at him. :I’m given to understand that that’s the normal reaction to being found desirable, but it seems to me that unless you like the other person, having him like you is just troublesome.:
Sirena patted Fey’s hand comfortingly. :At least he’s pretty normal this time.:
:That’s true. How did that happen?:
:You were nice to him after I stressed him out.:
Fey narrowed her eyes at her friend. :That’s right; this is all your fault. You’re totally paying for dinner.:
“ ‘Normal’? ‘This time’?” Blade asked.
Sirena laughed. :Oh boy. Let’s just say that Fey could write a stand-up comedy routine just by telling the unembellished tales of her interactions with the opposite sex.:
Fey sighed again. :I attract weirdos,: she explained bluntly. :Not that often, but too often for my comfort.:
Blade tried to say something encouraging. “I’m sure you… They can’t all be…”
Sirena just kept laughing. :Now with Requiem, she can finally say they’re not all weirdos. Though really, this probably means we’re going to discover something really weird about him.:
:I refuse,: Fey said firmly. :We are going to finish this quest quickly, not discover that he is anything but normal, and then never see him again.:
:Oh, please, he’s in loooove.: Sirena clasped her hands dramatically. :He shall follow you unto the ends of the earth and pledge his undying loyalty to your cause.:
:I don’t even… Wow, even other people’s crushes make you stupid.:
:Just you wait,: said Sirena. :You’ve reformed his playboy heart.:
Fey sighed yet again.
Amethyst squeaked. (“Fey-Fey is breathing funny.”)
Fey petted the slime. :You folks have it right, with the mitosis or binary fission, or whatever you do,: she said to her pet. :Hormones are stupid.:
After the meal (which Fey did make Sirena pay for), the party left the restaurant and made plans for the next game day. Fey and Sirena would look through their music books and try to analyze the limits of singing. They decided that next night, they would either train or find another quest to do, since the Siren’s Song quest was at a dead end until they either figured it out or were able to kill level 40 water swifts.
:Oh, before I forget.: (*cough* before the author forgets *cough*) Fey dug around in her belt pouch and handed Blade a batch of antidotes. :It’s not that many, but I’ll make more if you need it.:
“If you would stop poisoning me, I wouldn’t need it,” Blade sighed, stowing the potions in his own bag.
Bidding each other good night, they logged off.
Footnotes:
[i] People’s fingertips will wrinkle in fresh, or low osmolarity water as the skin absorbs water and swells. In high osmolarity water, such as the salt water of the ocean, the skin does not absorb water and will not wrinkle.
Requiem hid himself in an isolated niche in Pearlview and attempted to unlock the Volume Overlimit requirement for Siren’s Song. He tried various kinds of telepathy: short shouts, yelling words, singing at high volume, anything he could think of. He was sure he was louder than Sirena had been when she succeeded, but the system message failed to appear for him.
:Dammit!: he swore, punching the nearest coral wall. He swore again when the rough surface lacerated his knuckles.
His frustration and embarrassment only increased when the elf, Fey, swam into view.
Requiem did not understand the girl at all. His first impression of her was of her hovering quietly behind that human warrior, Blade, the picture of a shy, passive girl.
Every subsequent interaction with her confused him more. Her reactions to his words and actions seemed so bizarre; when he tried to be nice, she reacted negatively, but at other times, she would be surprisingly empathetic and helpful.
:What’s up?: Fey asked in greeting as she came within conversational distance.
Requiem had nothing new to report, so he made a vague sound of acknowledgement (also known as a ‘grunt’).
He immediately regretted not talking more, as Fey took the opportunity to notice the isolated surroundings and small cloud of blood around his scraped knuckles. When she spoke, he braced himself for a comment about his lack of progress with Siren’s Song.
:You’re actually a singer in real life, aren’t you?: Fey asked instead.
Requiem’s brow knitted in confusion. :Yeah?: he answered warily.
Fey ignored the question he implied. :Think of it as turning up the volume on your microphone while singing quietly.: After a pause, she said, :Okay, I’m off to find Sirena and Blade; later!: and swam away.
Requiem considered her words. After a moment, he began to sing a low, quiet song. Concentrating on maintaining the velvety tone of his singing, he gradually increased the volume of telepathy until he could be performing for a crowd of hundreds.
***
:Oh, they’re so beautiful.: The NPC mermaid cooed over the flower arrangement Fey had brought in a jar.
:May I keep the flowers?: the NPC asked. :I’ll trade you my necklace for it.: She held out a simple chain holding an exquisitely carved piece of gem coral in the shape of a complex polyhedron.
In Fey’s eyes, the pendant was clearly more valuable than her jar of common flowers. :Sure, I guess,: she agreed, not quite happy with an unequal trade that cheated the other party. :The flowers are going to die in a few days, though,: she warned.
:That’s fine,: said the NPC, pressing the coral carving into Fey’s hand. She swam off happily with the jar of flowers.
Sirena slid the chain out of Fey’s grasp as smoothly as a moderately talented pickpocket. :This is clearly for me,: she said with satisfaction.
:Hey, what?: Fey complained. :I did all the work here.:
Sirena made a cutesy face that was completely wasted on her friend. :It enhances magic,: she explained cheerfully. :Magic inscriptions in Fantasia are based on geometric shapes.:
Fey opened the item description:
Fey sighed in defeat. There was no arguing that the item belonged with the group’s only mage. Sirena grinned and slipped the chain over her head.
:What’s next?: Fey asked.
Blade answered. (Yes, he’s been there the whole time.) “Well, we asked around, and it turns out that water swifts are level 40, so…”
:Oof,: said Fey as if she had been (lightly) punched in the abdomen. :I don’t really want to stay down here for longer than it takes to get your land legs,: she said to Sirena.
:What’s wrong with “down here”?: asked Sirena, hands on scaled hips.
:It’s wet,: answered Fey. :My fingers are getting all prune-y.:
Blade looked curiously down at his hands. In the salt water of the ocean, his fingertips did not wrinkle[i]. Shaking his head free of the random consideration (*infected by Fey*), he rejoined the conversation. “I think this is too important of a quest to give up just to get back to land earlier.”
:Psh, who said anything about giving up?: Fey made a dismissive gesture. :We should just figure out the rest of it on our own.:
Blade very nearly expressed a sentiment along the lines of, ‘You can’t just “figure out” a quest,’ but realized that Fey would probably reply with something like (a raised eyebrow and), ‘Why not?’
He remained silent as Sirena asked, :Did you figure something out?:
The parts of Fey’s brain that were supposed to be devoted to basic tasks like paying attention to her surroundings and walking without tripping over her own feet were instead used to muse over various (random) topics. Very occasionally, these musings resulted in ideas of material use. :So I was thinking about what the whale said. She basically implied that our minds naturally limit telepathic singing in the ways that real singing is limited.:
Neither Sirena nor Blade particularly remembered Laaguuna implying any such thing. Sirena hid the confusion better (*just go with it*) and nodded encouragement for Fey to continue.
:So, if we figure out what all the limits are and learn how to sing past the limits, then we’ll unlock siren’s song,: Fey concluded.
The task sounded simple enough, except for the “figure out what all the limits are” part. Fortunately, this was one of the rare occasions that Fey’s musings had amounted to ideas of material use. :Obviously, we already figured out that volume is one. The next one is probably pitch, since I already lowered my voice when I talked to the whales.:
:Hmm, let’s see.: Sirena began to hum a descending scale from middle C. After about two octaves, she had to pause and really concentrate, but eventually managed to produce notes belonging to the bass vocal range as she descended another two octaves.
:Try high notes, too,: Fey suggested.
Sirena started singing an ascending scale. Her natural voice was already soprano, so she had to travel into almost ‘dog-whistle’ territory to really exceed her upper register.
:Nice,: said Sirena, :what’s next?:
:Ummm…: Fey pondered for a moment. :Breathing?: she ventured. :I guess you can hold a note for as long as you want.:
Sirena made a face. :That seems too obvious.: Nonetheless, she began to sing a song with continuous phrases, not pausing the flow of sound where she would normally need to draw a breath. At its conclusion, several minutes later:
Sirena was really excited. :Wow, we’re going to finish the quest tonight! What’s next?:
:... I’ve got nothing,: Fey admitted. She had no idea how many unlocks were required to complete the quest, and the idea of trying to think of a possibly large number of subtle limits to break was daunting.
Sirena sighed (*deflated*). :Oh well, three out of five isn’t bad.:
:Five? Where’d you get five from?:
:It just seemed like a good number for a quest.:
:It’s probably twelve or something,: said Fey pessimistically.
A long moment passed as Fey, Sirena, and Blade each tried to think of another limit of singing that telepathy could overcome.
Fey was the first to give up; she generally left this kind of thinking to her subconscious. :I’m hungry. What do people eat down here?:
:Seafood,: Sirena answered promptly.
“I could eat,” said Blade.
Seafood was not Fey’s favourite, but they had not eaten all day, so it was no time to be picky. :Let’s go.:
As the party travelled to the nearest restaurant, Fey asked, :How do people cook down here?:
:Very carefully.:
***
Cooking was indeed a dangerous activity underwater. It was accomplished by using fire magic to heat the water around the food to boiling. Unless very precisely controlled, a would-be chef could end up cooking his own flesh along with the fish.
To reassure restaurant patrons that they would not meet that rather unpleasant fate, they were separated from the cooking area by a wall of clear glass. Rather than conventional tables and chairs, the restaurant boasted tiered seating on a magically-grown coral reef. Diners sat in loops of coral shaped like inner tubes, preventing them from drifting away on water currents.
Fey, Sirena, and Blade were about halfway through their (fishy) meal when Requiem appeared. Sirena was the first to spot the merman hovering near the restaurant entrance.
:I wonder what he wants.:
Fey turned to see who Sirena was talking about, then answered, :To finish the quest, I’m assuming.:
The trio was seated in such a way that Requiem had to swim up to find them; he did so, body language somewhat different than before.
:And how’s Siren’s Song going for you?: Sirena asked with venomous sweetness.
:I learned it,: Requiem snapped. Visibly reining in his anger, he asked, :Fey, may I speak with you alone?:
Woah, I thought people only did that in movies. Fey’s expression clearly showed her surprise, but after a pause, she said, :Sure,: and extricated herself from her seat. Merman and elf swam to the other side of the coral reef for privacy.
Sirena leaned over and twisted at an extreme angle in order to spy on the pair. :What do you think he’s saying?: she asked Blade.
Blade shrugged, taking another bite out of his fish. “I don’t think it’s any of our business.”
Sirena gave an airy (watery?) wave. :Don’t be silly; Fey totally assumes I’m spying right now.:
“What about Requiem?”
:Never mind Requiem. Fey’s my best friend and I reserve the right to spy on her while she’s talking to idiot playboys.:
Blade did not quite know how to respond to that, so the conversation fell silent until,
:Ooh, look at that body language. He’s totally into her.:
“What? No way,” said Blade, curious despite himself.
:See for yourself,: Sirena urged, waving him forward without looking away from her spying.
Blade found himself leaning out of his seat; his vantage point was such that he did not need to undergo the contortions Sirena was performing (which was good, because he definitely wasn’t flexible enough). Indeed, Requiem’s body language was quite intent on Fey, whereas Fey’s was aloof (*fun word*) as she politely listened to him speak. “Huh. I wonder what’s going on.”
:Ohmygod.: Sirena managed to latch onto Blade’s arm in excitement even as her gaze stayed glued to the private (“private”) conversation. :He’s totally fallen for her!:
Blade tried not to wince at Sirena’s long nails digging into his arm. “Why would he suddenly fall for her?”
:She totally flipped the trigger when she was nice to him after I stressed him out.:
Sirena’s words confused Blade in multiple ways. “Huh?”
Sirena released her grasp in order to poke Blade. :Someone being nice to you when you’re stressed is a classic way of triggering a crush.:
Blade considered the explanation and decided it made sense. “Okay, but when was she nice to him?”
:When she taught him how to do the Volume Overlimit thing, duh. There’s no way that idiot could have figured it out by himself. Plus, she’s really good at explaining things so even idiots can understand.:
Blade thought back to all the instances that Fey had confused him with a distinct lack of explanation. “Fey is definitely really bad at explaining things.”
:Aww, poor baby.: Sirena actually looked up from spying in order to pet Blade on the shoulder with amusement and sympathy. :Fey’s really good at explaining things, but she rarely does. You have to be quick-witted around her.: She abruptly straightened as Fey and Requiem turned towards their table, wincing as her abdominal muscles protested their abuse.
Fey and Requiem arrived at the table to find Sirena and Blade paying more attention to their food than strictly necessary. Fey slid back into her seat, asking Requiem, :Are you joining us?:
:Nah, I have to go practice. See you tomorrow, Fey!: Requiem swam off.
The moment he was out of telepathic earshot, Sirena demanded, :So? What’d he say?:
Fey answered without stopping her eating. (Ah, the benefits of telepathy.) :He thanked me for explaining the Volume Overlimit, and then I explained the other two unlocks we figured out, and then he thanked me again.:
:Oh, he totally likes you,: Sirena said with relish. (No ketchup? Sad.)
“Uh, how does that prove anything?” Blade asked.
Fey sighed resignedly. :I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Sirena’s evaluation. He touched my elbow twice while we were talking.: (Apparently, this kind of aggravation makes our heroine pull out the essay-type vocabulary.)
“What’s so special about an elbow?”
To prove her point, Fey asked, :And how many times have you touched my elbow in the week we’ve been adventuring together?: A pause to allow Blade to recall never performing such an action. :Exactly. It’s not where, it’s the fact he did it at all.:
Sirena laughed at Fey’s put-upon expression. :Hey, cheer up; it could be worse.:
Blade stared at Fey. He knew she was an unusual girl, but… “Aren’t you supposed to be happier?”
Fey raised her eyebrow at him. :I’m given to understand that that’s the normal reaction to being found desirable, but it seems to me that unless you like the other person, having him like you is just troublesome.:
Sirena patted Fey’s hand comfortingly. :At least he’s pretty normal this time.:
:That’s true. How did that happen?:
:You were nice to him after I stressed him out.:
Fey narrowed her eyes at her friend. :That’s right; this is all your fault. You’re totally paying for dinner.:
“ ‘Normal’? ‘This time’?” Blade asked.
Sirena laughed. :Oh boy. Let’s just say that Fey could write a stand-up comedy routine just by telling the unembellished tales of her interactions with the opposite sex.:
Fey sighed again. :I attract weirdos,: she explained bluntly. :Not that often, but too often for my comfort.:
Blade tried to say something encouraging. “I’m sure you… They can’t all be…”
Sirena just kept laughing. :Now with Requiem, she can finally say they’re not all weirdos. Though really, this probably means we’re going to discover something really weird about him.:
:I refuse,: Fey said firmly. :We are going to finish this quest quickly, not discover that he is anything but normal, and then never see him again.:
:Oh, please, he’s in loooove.: Sirena clasped her hands dramatically. :He shall follow you unto the ends of the earth and pledge his undying loyalty to your cause.:
:I don’t even… Wow, even other people’s crushes make you stupid.:
:Just you wait,: said Sirena. :You’ve reformed his playboy heart.:
Fey sighed yet again.
Amethyst squeaked. (“Fey-Fey is breathing funny.”)
Fey petted the slime. :You folks have it right, with the mitosis or binary fission, or whatever you do,: she said to her pet. :Hormones are stupid.:
After the meal (which Fey did make Sirena pay for), the party left the restaurant and made plans for the next game day. Fey and Sirena would look through their music books and try to analyze the limits of singing. They decided that next night, they would either train or find another quest to do, since the Siren’s Song quest was at a dead end until they either figured it out or were able to kill level 40 water swifts.
:Oh, before I forget.: (*cough* before the author forgets *cough*) Fey dug around in her belt pouch and handed Blade a batch of antidotes. :It’s not that many, but I’ll make more if you need it.:
“If you would stop poisoning me, I wouldn’t need it,” Blade sighed, stowing the potions in his own bag.
Bidding each other good night, they logged off.
Footnotes:
[i] People’s fingertips will wrinkle in fresh, or low osmolarity water as the skin absorbs water and swells. In high osmolarity water, such as the salt water of the ocean, the skin does not absorb water and will not wrinkle.
