Dungeon 42

Earthly Awkwardness

Chapter 82

After my amusement with Mina and Andrea's reply to my message died down, I found I was ready to make at least one crucial decision. I would let Mira and Hetcha wake up in the morning. Putting it off much longer would cause complications.

The rub was I would prefer to keep Mira and Hetcha in the valley for a bit longer. Still, that was something I didn't want to accomplish by trapping them. Doing things in such a hostile manner would invite problems.

Greetings,

Your companions have descended into a dungeon, and two have died, Reiner and Lillian. Mina and Andrea are still alive but, at present, are trapped. But, like yourselves, they are now free of the enslavement items.

I will see if I can free them, but I make no promises. If you remain on the farm, I will inform you of the outcome. If you choose to leave, I won't blame you.

You may use anything on the property and take what you want with you. The valley is safe to explore, but do not enter the mine. If you wish to ask me questions, write them on the supplied paper and pin it to the door. I will retrieve it during the night.

-42

"I was going for mysterious hermit with this, but I feel like I overshot it into creeper town," I said as I showed Henry the letter I'd written. I planned to leave it for Mira and Hetcha to find on the kitchen table. That Henry was looking at me with unabashed confusion took a few moments to sink in. Right, slang. That thing that didn't translate so well.

"Uhm… By creeper town, I meant I would frighten rather than intrigue them with what I wrote," I explained. Henry nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Th-the way y-you con-con-con-" Henry started, then made a frustrated noise. A moment later, I got a text notice.

[The way you construct metaphors is foreign but poetic. Is it common practice where you're from?]

I felt my orbs flicker. Using 'constructing metaphors' to describe garbage that usually came out of my mouth felt a little too fancy.

"It's not anything grand, just slang. It's hardly poetry," I admitted. Henry shook his head at that.

[I have trouble understanding it sometimes, but it is relatively clear in context. Which is more than I can say for most poetry.]

Henry would have been grinning if he had soft tissue. I knew it even before I read the message.

"Between the two of us, I suspect you're the one hiding poetic depths," I said and laughed. I'd never heard Henry recite any, but it was in the way he moved when fighting, how embroidery seemed to flow like magic on fabric he touched, how those same hands managed to guide artless me through the steps of an unfamiliar dance. Maybe I'd never hear it, but I'd already seen and felt it.

"You think too much of me," Henry said flatly. I was taken aback by the unexpected harshness as much as the clarity. It wasn't like he stumbled over every single word, but it wasn't often that he got off a whole thought cleanly. When he did, I'd noticed it was when he felt something intensely.

"You know, I've been wondering. It seems like you have a harder time talking around me than the others. Am I making you uncomfortable?" I asked. My looks might not bother him, but he might have been pushing himself to an uncomfortable degree in comforting me. Not everyone was a cuddler.

"N-n-no! N-no-not at-at- damn it all!" Henry growled. It was rare that he uttered a curse of any kind. That he could say it clearly while other words failed him was kind of hilarious, but I was consumed with sympathy. When all else failed, swearing would always be there for you. Like a totally useless friend who never helped.

"If he were still fleshy, I'd say all his brain blood fled south. 'Appens to ah' man when you wrap about 'em like ah snake in heat," Chris offered gleefully from the door. I sat up in surprise. Henry stood, giving off crackling sparks of blue energy in his rage. He promptly face-planted as neither of us had noticed my tail wrapped around his legs.

I was fairly sure that if a DM could blush, I would be. Furiously.

I quickly retracted the offending appendage. Chris howled with laughter as he took off running. Henry stood up rather slowly, then turned to me and bowed.

"Pardon me, 42," Henry said tightly. I just nodded. This would not end well.

Henry disappeared in a flash of blue energy, moving at top speed. Given that it was his class's focus, it was an impressive display, to say the least.

Chris had a lead, but I was pretty sure he wouldn't even last half a minute. Not unless Henry drew it out intentionally or took his time dismantling the foul-mouthed rogue. I was truly glad I'd set the auto respawn feature on all the skeletons. I also suspected if it were possible to simply murder one of them hard enough to make the second death stick, Henry was in the mood to do it.

I had started a call with Aaron when I got the respawn notice for Chris. I'd have lost my chips if I'd bet on the matter. It had taken Henry 45 seconds to hunt him down in the end.

"So, nothing complex this time. Break the spell but don't specifically wake them up right then. They can get up on their own whenever they happen to in the morning," I finished explaining. I'd been fine until the notice popped up, then lost the ability to make eye contact—my embarrassment returning with a vengeance.

"Very well. I'll text you the details of what I intend to do. As requested," Aaron said cautiously.

"Thank you," I said simply and ended the call. A few minutes later, I got what was probably an insultingly broken down and simplified explanation of how Aaron would undo his spell. I immediately dubbed it 'magic for dumbasses' and felt relieved he'd taken me seriously. Mainly because despite the gratuitous amount of explanation, I still ended up with several questions and kind of lost in the middle.

Without shame, I quickly wrote out what I hadn't understood and texted him back. I did indicate he was good to go despite that, however. My lack of comprehension wasn't severe enough to warrant a delay or aborting of the plan. I finished that and worked on a few minor tasks, nothing important, which was my version of fidgeting. Finally, when I glanced over at the door for the hundredth time I found Henry loitering in the entrance to my chamber.

"Hey," I said like an idiot.

"42," Henry replied. I'd expected and somewhat dreaded his return but had thought it would be sooner. Instead, it had been nearly a half hour.

Looking Henry over, I realized he'd changed his shirt. The first one had been black with an intricate embroidered pattern that wasn't visible unless you were close or the light caught it just right. This one was similar in style but without the embroidery. Instead, the front was pleated on both sides of the button placket. The pleats were narrow, a half inch in depth at a guestimate, and knife straight.

Looking carefully, I noticed Henry had also added a brooch of sorts. It was a blue rose just over the chest pocket. The outfit felt a little more understated than the other one but still very nice. Unfortunately, I couldn't place the reason for the change, which had me wrong-footed for a few beats.

"Uhm… care to join me?" I asked, gesturing at the couch. As if he hadn't moved past needing an invitation weeks ago. Henry nodded in reply and sat down a full cushion away from me. This was officially awkward.

"So- Wait, is that a nick?" I asked, spotting a tiny gouge in the bone of Henry's chin. It was definitely a new one. He hadn't been in a raid league match for a week.

"What?" Henry asked in confusion. He barely had time to react as I scooted over, taking hold of his jaw. It was definitely a nick, straight-edged too. Thumb on it, I drew a line with my pointer and found a corresponding feeling on his chest under the shirt. Chris had struck deep enough to leave a mark in the bone.

"You changed your shirt because Chris got you," I said in shock.

"N-not s-s-seriously!" Henry said defensively. I growled in irritation, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. The slash would have run from his chin on his right to a handspan under his armpit on the left. It might not have been lethal, but it would still have been a hell of a wound on living beings.

"42!" Henry said sharply, fighting to pull the hem down. Realizing what I'd done, I let go and thrust my hands behind my back. Like hiding them was helpful or sensible.

"S-Sorry!" I said, wanting to kick myself. Henry didn't know what cuddling was. Plenty of the denizens were put off by mere hugs. I didn't even want to know how many lines I'd likely just crossed.

"C-Chris lacks dis-scipline, but he is proficient. I… apologize for the p-poor sh-showing on my part. I was ra-rather… emotional," Henry said mildly.

"Poor showing? Henry, I was just worried about you. I know you don't get injured like a mortal, but that's still my instinctive reaction," I explained.

'You were w-worried about me?" Henry asked like it was a foreign concept.

"Obviously," I said and chuckled, relieved he wasn't upset. I felt like this was an excellent moment to apologize again for the breach of etiquette, modesty, or whatever pulling up a man's shirt would be called.

I went mute when I noticed Henry was leaning in toward me, jewels a little dim in a mellow kind of way. I was about to ask him what he was doing when an alert chime distracted me.

[System Update]

[Your new alignment is Chaotic Neutral. Congratulations or condolences as appropriate! Your server reassignment will commence immediately.]

My interface wasn't in share mode, and Henry leaned in through the prompt to kiss me. The world blurred into a colorful smear, and I had no idea if that was the effect of the server transfer or the kiss.