You’re a chicken.
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It looks like things are getting heated, Mhupi.
on March 6, 2021
at 12:00 am
PART TWO
Ariscille, er… “Professor Arina” scurried back to the buffet tables when it looked safe to. She bumped into a few things along the way: chairs, tables, garden decor, people… Being a human was taking longer to adjust to then she originally estimated. They were so tall! At least she’d stopped tripping as much, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to their long limbs.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to their rich human food either, and as she finally reached the buffet again, her heart sang in anticipation. This crazy party crashing idea of Tora’s had been worth it for the food alone. The people and conversation? Boring! SO dull! But the food? The tiny sandwiches with cream fillings, the roast duck with gravy, the miniature cheesecakes with fancy syrups… this was the best idea!
He’d shown up at her lab with it out of the blue like he usually did.
“What if we made a human tonic and snuck into those fancy human noble parties with it?!”
The sheer absurdity of it was really what sold her on it. Oh that Tora always has such fun ideas! Jekk would kill them if he found out, but he didn’t need to know…
The tonics were working great too—it was the longest lasting batch she’d made so far at two whole hours! It was damn fine work, but probably most definitely illegal. Tonics had time limits for reasons, it spelled all kinds of legal issues if someone could
on March 6, 2021
at 12:03 am
use what was meant to be a toy as some sort of legitimate disguise.
At present though, she was far more concerned over blowing their cover than being caught with an illegal tonic. And she’d almost done so more than a few times that evening.
Tora was the one who’d setup their cover stories and got them in. She wasn’t even fully sure how he did it but he’d somehow gotten her an invitation as a “human” scientist! Thankfully the backstory he’d concocted for her wasn’t too far from the truth so it wasn’t hard to stay on script. The real issue was Tora’s story…
He’d changed it about six times before they’d even entered the party, even editing little flourishes here and there right up until they reached the entranceway. In one version he was a fallen noble from a distant land, in another he was a fellow scientist with a tragic past… She wasn’t even sure what name he’d finally settled on—it was hard to keep up with it all. Every time someone came to ask her about him, and way too many people did, she simply found herself nodding and agreeing with whatever they said while trying not to contradict whatever story Tora had given them.
They’d separated from each other pretty early in the party since Ariscille was more interested in the food and Tora was more interested in… doing whatever he was doing. She tried to clarify his backstory details the first time they regrouped at the buffet to no avail.
“Eh, just tell em whatever. Ya think they care?” Tora snickered as he popped a few bite-sized pastries in his mouth.
“Oh golly, Tora—” She started before he slapped his hand over her mouth.
“Don’t tell em that one though, eh?” He smiled. His hand smelled like ocean air and flowers (he sure smelled… cleaner lately).
This was ten minutes into the party.
She tried again when he visited later to offer her wine he’d stolen from the kitchen. Then again when he went to introduce her to some people he met. And finally once more when he got her to dance with him on the tables.
“There’s been quite a lot of interest in you, you know?! I’m just having a bit of trouble—Oh sorry! Sorry!” She’d stepped on someone’s foot again. There was a lot of people dancing on these tables and she still hadn’t figured out how to walk in this body, never mind dance!
“You and me both!” Tora laughed as he spun her around. She could still smell the ocean off him, but her sharp asuran nose picked up several other smells: a mix of perfumes, as if he’d gotten a little too close with a little too many nobles. She suspected he’d done exactly that. As she spun, her foot knocked over something made
on March 6, 2021
at 12:06 am
of glass and she heard it shatter on the ground.
“Look I get it haha I do! But uh, here’s the thing?” He gave her a quick twirl and she swore she heard something clink in his pockets—or had they knocked off another glass? “I’ve said so much shit to so many people! Mostly I’m jus’ some guy from LA, but from there? All bets are off! I got some folks thinkin’ I’ve got a lost love, some others thinkin’ I wrestled a bear… I’m in a motorbike gang (actually that part’s true)… Oh and at least one guy thinks I’m part Djinn!”
“Part Djinn?!”
“Yeah!” He snorted. “I have no fuckin’ idea how I got away with that. Hilarious!”
It was hilarious and Ariscille couldn’t help grinning.
“That… is actually fantastic! But what do I say then?”
“Whatever you want! Look here’s my point, I’ve made up so many stories tonight and there’s so many people calling me so many different names…” He suddenly dipped her then and leaned in close, his eyes sparking with the energy of a lightning bolt. His manic grin widened and he whispered in her ear in a rush. “I don’t even know who I am anymore!”
And with that he danced away from her, cackling into the arms of another dancer, and making it more than clear that she was on her own. She’d have to be very careful talking about him.
If only the birthday girl wasn’t so sharp. Oh gosh, oh golly! Ariscille really nearly blew their whole cover with Miss Mina! She stuffed a few breaded shrimp in her mouth and scanned the garden. The last she saw Miss Mina she was at the fountain dancing with Tora. She’d watched him sweep her away into the crowd and hadn’t seen either of them since.
Hopefully he’d managed to keep Miss Mina off their scent, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she talked to him next. It was probably fine though. For now she may as well continue indulging in appetizers.
Just as she reached for another shrimp though, she heard someone call for her.
“PROFESSOR?! PROFESSOR!”
She spun around to see Tora walking briskly towards her.
“THERE YOU ARE! WE NEED TO GO.” He brushed past her and nabbed a couple hors d’oeuvres. “We need to go go go!”
“Right now?!” Ariscille blinked. “Wait, did Miss Mina—?!”
“Oh no, she fuckin’ loves me.” Tora shoved a few finger sandwiches into his pockets and another in his mouth. He talked as he munched. “Mmm what is in these? So damn good. Anyway, it’s her suitors that hate me.”
on March 6, 2021
at 12:09 am
“Suitors?” She took the cue from Tora, and followed suit: stuffing food into her mouth and purse. She had a feeling this would be her last chance for that.
“Yeah, I’ve got like seven or eight duels I don’t plan on doing. That Mina is well-liked!” He ate a couple mini cheesecakes and continued moving rapidly down the buffet. “There’s also a guy who’s mad at me because I’m Cleandro? Or he’s Cleandro? I’m unclear. Anyway, people want me dead is the point.”
“Oh dear.” Ariscille grabbed a silver tray of devilled eggs and poured it into her purse as she followed Tora. A fellow guest at the buffet watched them dumbfounded, holding his glass of champagne numbly in front of him. Tora grabbed the glass as he passed, drained it in a gulp, and handed it back before the man could even blink.
Voices from the crowd bellowed behind them.
“LORD AMBROCIO! YOU WILL DUEL ME!”
“COME BACK, YOU FIEND! SIR XANDER!”
“WHERE HAVE YOU GONE, EREL?!”
“Right. Think thas’ as much as we’re gettin’.” Tora said as he shoved a few more cured meats into his jacket.
“Well at least we didn’t set anything on fire this time.” Ariscille shrugged as she grabbed a handful of olives.
“BY THE GODS! WHO SET THE HEDGES ON FIRE?!” A voice cried in the distance.
Tora and Ariscille paused in the midst of their looting and exchanged looks.
“Does it count if I don’t remember how that happened?” Tora tried.
“Let’s just say no,” Ariscille said decisively.
The two nodded in agreement; Ariscille grabbed one more tray of food; Tora snatched a bottle of champagne; and the two scampered off giggling like teenagers, accidentally knocking over a garden statue of some old man as they went.
*
Tora stood in the dim light of his shoddily made thief den: a single mattress for a bed surrounded by junk, hidden in the depths of some ruins just outside a human village. Shrouded on all sides by crumbling stone with only the moonlight to guide him, he deftly shuffled through the mess towards his bed and started emptying his pockets onto it.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
A variety of small colorful glass bottles dropped one after the other onto the bed into a small pile. He reached over and spread them out so he could see them better.
Perfume bottles. Lots of them.
He pulled one last bottle from his pocket: a seashell shaped cologne he’d swiped
