Vigor Mortis

Chapter 65: Rest and Recrimination

“Well,” Norah announces loudly, “fuck that whole mission three times up the ass.”

I glance up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

Skyhope is finally in sight, which more or less marks the end of our half-successful mission. Claretta sleeps fitfully on Bently’s shoulder and Penelope once again walks on her own, though her hand isn’t yet fully regenerated.

“I’m just saying, that mission was fucking awful! We nearly died like twenty times and then we had to trudge for three days without sleep, and… y’know. So fuck it three times up the ass!”

“Yeah, I mean, I get that,” I answer. “I just don’t understand why you’re using that phrase to complain when it’s something you’d probably ask someone to do to you.”

Norah physically staggers, making a wheezing noise like I just socked her in the gut.

“D-did I just get verbally annihilated by Vita?” she chokes.

“What?” I ask again, looking around in confusion.

“Damn, Norah, I don’t even think she did it on purpose,” Orville comments. “How does that feel?”

“Watcher’s eyes, it doesn’t end!” she announces, starting to bellow out laughter. “Mercy, mercy!”

“She’s got a point,” Penelope chimes in. “If you really hated the mission that much, Norah, you shouldn’t be going out of your way to give it a good time.”

“S-stop!” Norah begs, now laughing so hard she’s barely able to breathe. “Stop, I’ve already been killed!”

Penelope smirks and Bently blushes. Seong just glowers. I’m even more lost than I was before, torn between happiness that my team is happy and that creeping feeling that I’m somehow the butt of a joke I don’t quite understand.

“Teenagers,” Seong hisses derisively. “Stay focused, will you? The mission isn’t over until we’re back behind the walls.”

I don’t sense anything remotely dangerous in my range, but I’m inclined to agree with them. It would be awfully embarrassing to die just outside our destination. It’s happened before, even if not to us. My comment was just a thoughtless idea, the kind born from weeks of very, very little sleep. Everyone got pushed to their limits on this mission, and our escape from that soul-eating beast took a toll on everyone. Of course, as the scout, I didn’t get to sleep much after the monster finally left us alone, either. I’ve barely gotten a couple hours of sleep a day, most of it during the day with light out and my teammates moving around and making noise. I’m running entirely on fumes and soul snacks at this point, and there’s nothing I want more than to get back to the guild, grab Rosco, and pass the fuck out for three days.

We finally make it back inside Skyhope after getting scanned at the gate for Nawra. There’s a line today, but thankfully as hunters we get to skip it. The biomancer on duty is so fucking slow though. I can immediately tell there isn’t a single person with a Nawra, and I would have already dealt with it if there was. It’s midday and the streets are bustling, though most people give us a wide berth considering that we all absolutely reek of rancid monster blood. I’ve probably collected more of that monster’s insides on my armor than the damn thing actually has insides at any one given time. What is that creature, anyway? Another bioweapon? Or did something like that develop naturally on one of the other islands? From what I understand, that’s entirely possible. Humanity is pretty much only alive because the worst monsters have no reason to prefer eating them over the prey in the deep forest.

Once we make it back to the guild, the first stop is unfortunately not my bed, but the infirmary. It’s a lot more full than the last time I was here, but we manage to find a bed on which to get Claretta situated and stable. Also new is the collection of blankets and dirty food plates that sit stuffed in a corner of the infirmary floor, in which a snoring young man rests. Penelope shakes her head with amusement, a rare grin blooming on her face as she walks over and presses a boot into his belly.

“Jeremy!” she fake-gasps. “Have you made a nest in the infirmary?”

“Hurgh! Who the fuck… Penelope?”

The young man starts to get up, Penelope immediately removing her foot and offering him her good hand instead. He takes it, his messy black hair and slightly gap-toothed grin giving him a boyish look. The guy’s no slouch, though, possessing a decently sized soul that feels like a knot of tree roots thriving in damp soil.

“A woman fit to be queen, sent in my time of need!” Jeremy announces, his voice half joyful and half dead-ass exhausted. “Truly, the Watcher does care for us.”

Penelope finishes pulling him up, chuckling lightly.

“Don’t flatter me too much, or I’ll start to expect it. Have you left the infirmary at all since I departed?”

“Pretty much no. It’s been bad here. Almost everyone’s been coming back injured if they come back at all. Then the branch leader officially got the Templars involved to help us, and now they’re coming back injured too!”

Penelope scowls.

“Can’t the Templars hire their own biomancers instead of mooching ours?”

“Don’t ask me,” Jeremy shrugs. “I just eat, sleep and heal. Don’t have time to question stuff like that. I am so glad you’re back, Penelope.”

“Mmm, don’t be too glad,” Penelope mutters. “I’ll help where I can, but I have duties outside the hunter’s guild, you know.”

“Who’s this guy, Penelope?” I ask.

“This is Jeremy,” she answers. “Jeremy, Vita. Didn’t I tell you about him back before we left?”

I shrug.

“I dunno, I guess I kinda remember you talking about another biomancer? We brought back someone else that needs healing, but she’s a healer herself, so maybe she can help when she wakes up?”

He grimaces.

“Normally I’d never ask a patient to work, but we’re pretty damn desperate. Come on, Penelope, couldn’t you have healed her on the way over?”

“I did my best,” she answers, raising her still-regenerating hand. Each finger is barely past the first knuckle.

“Oooh, ouch,” Jeremy winces. “Right then, I guess… I’ll get back to it. Fuck, what time is it?”

“It’s about ten hours to Sky Canyon,” Penelope answers. “I’d take over for you, but I’m about to collapse as well.”

“Well, all right,” he relents, cracking his neck. “Fuck it. I’ve been at this for weeks, another ten hours isn’t going to kill me. Good job surviving out there. Get some sleep.”

Gratefully, we move to follow his advice. I already have my armor half off by the time I get up to our room. I finish stripping it off, not giving a single shit how much the rest of me is also covered with muck and gore. I flop onto my bed, curl around my favorite stuffed crow, and pass blissfully into sleep.

…

Waking up naturally, with no impending monster attack or other crisis to attend to, is a somewhat novel experience after the two-week round trip where we rescued Claretta. I’m fairly certain Norah and Penelope fell asleep in here with me, but both of them are gone when I wake up. How long have I been out? I continue to lay motionless for a while, cuddling Rosco and enjoying the simple comfort of a warm bed.

I still feel exhausted, but I should get up. I bet my family’s worried.

I sigh, pulling myself out of bed. My stomach starts yelling at me, demanding we go to the mess hall first and then see my family. I have to admit, that’s a good idea. I grope around exhaustedly for my armor and spear, hands coming up empty for each. What? They’re gone!

I groan in annoyance. Penelope or Norah probably took my stuff to get cleaned. I don’t… actually have any other outfits, though, other than the uncomfortably fancy ones Penelope got me.

…Meh, screw it. I’ll head to the mess hall in my underthings. It’s enough clothing to be technically decent. Speaking of Norah, she and the boys are also apparently in the mess hall, so I nab as much stew as I can carry and head their way, sitting down next to them.

“Hmm? Oh, hey Vita. You’re looking… significantly less dressed than usual,” Norah greets.

“Yeah, well, somebody took my armor,” I grumble.

“Uh, have you considered… I don’t know, wearing something other than armor?” Orville asks.

I glower at him while I take a bite of stew, swallowing it immediately.

“No,” I answer firmly.

“Vita is very diligent!” Bently observes.

“We took everyone’s armor to get cleaned,” Norah explains. “It’s not going to be ready for a few hours, probably. You’re going to have to put something else on.”

I scowl, shoveling more food down my throat.

“I am not putting that dress on again,” I insist.

“Uh, okay, then just wear something else? If you keep wearing what you’re wearing you’re gonna flash sideboob at somebody, Vita, which… is a thing you actually kind of have, now,” Norah says matter-of-factly. “You’re growing pretty fast, girl. You need to pay attention to that, or you’ll be getting all kinds of attention that you don’t want.”

I take another few bites.

“…You wear this shit all the time, though,” I point out.

“Vita, I like that kind of attention,” Norah answers. “You don’t. Right?”

I glance up at my team. Bently just looks a bit concerned for me and a bit confused, but Orville is very pointedly looking in a different direction and blushing. I begin to feel a blush of my own start to work its way across my face.

“…Oh,” I murmur quietly.

“Vita, you are an oblivious little dork, and I love that about you, but you’re growing up, so you gotta start paying attention to other people a bit more. Okay?”

She flashes me a wry grin as I nod awkwardly, focusing my attention a bit further into my teammates’ souls. Yep, people are uncomfortable, and I probably could have figured that out before ever sitting down if I’d been paying attention. Yet I hadn’t thought to give them more than a passing glance.

“You took my cloak away with my armor,” I mumble. “That’s the only other thing I wear. My other clothes had so many holes in them that somebody threw them away when I put them in the laundry.”

Norah sighs.

“Of course. Orville, can you lend her an outfit or something?”

“Why me?” the mage grumbles.

“Uh, because Bently and I are like twice her height? Any shirt I gave her would be a dress.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Orville grumbles. “Come on, Vita, we’ll get you something.”

“Wait,” I insist. “Lemmie get some more stew first.”

I don’t care how incredibly embarrassed I am right now, I am not leaving without finishing my meal. I head back and refill my huge bowl, then return to chomp down on it as quickly as I can. Norah laughs.

“Watcher’s eyes, Vita, it’s no wonder your tits are growing so fast! All that food has to be going somewhere.”

“Nah,” I grunt between bites. “It’s probably Penelope. …And they’re not that big, are they?”

I feel like they’re definitely not. I don’t even really have breasts yet, I just have like… little uncomfortable fat triangles poking out of my chest. They hurt and I hate them. I can’t believe this is even a conversation we’re having! I should have just stolen the cheapest thing I found in Penelope’s dresser. Better to be ridiculed for wearing a dress than… this.

“Hmm? What about Penelope?” Bently asks.

“Oh, right,” I begin. “Yeah, Penelope admitted before we left that she’s been like, using her biomancy voodoo on my body to do stuff like this. Messing with my growth, making me ‘conventionally attractive,’ whatever that means.”

No one responds. The table is utterly silent. Which, of course, is fine by me. I tear into my stew, happy to no longer be obligated to talk.

“What the actual fuck?” Orville suddenly blurts.

“Yeah, uh, agreed?” Norah stammers. “Like, I don’t even know what to say to that. Did she ask you first?”

“Nah, not at all,” I admit.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Bently whispers.

“Oh, it’s super illegal,” Orville insists. “She could have her license revoked for that. She should have her license revoked for that!”

“Do you think she’s doing stuff like that to us?” Bently asks.

“I got the impression it’s just me,” I comment, taking another bite.

“You are really weirdly calm about this,” Norah insists.

I shrug, swallowing my stew.

“So what? Do you want me to be hysterical? We talked about it already. I yelled at her for not asking me first, she spouted a bunch of philosophical shit at me, and I made her promise to tell me this stuff beforehand. It’s handled.”

“Doesn’t it creep you the fuck out that she did that at all?” Orville asks.

I shrug again.

“She had good points.”

“She had good points?”

I sigh with irritation, picking the stew bowl up to my mouth and shoveling the rest of it in. I really don’t want to talk about this.

“Vita, biomancers have to respect other people’s bodies or they just end up… inhuman,” Orville insists. “You should be concerned about this!”

“It is kind of scary,” Bently mumbles. “It’s not right for Penelope to do that to you.”

“I would just… feel violated, you know?” Norah agrees, mouth agape. “I don’t like the idea of someone going in and just turning my body into something else, something that might not be me.”

“My body isn’t me!” I snap, thunking my bowl back down on the table. “It’s mine, and I don’t like that she messed with it without asking me. But do I care what she does to it? No! Not really! My body sucks, guys! It’s tiny, and it’s weak, and it looks way too young and my face is all wrong and I just do not give a fuck about it beyond the fact that I have to live in it. Penelope knows her shit. She certainly knows way more than I do about how anybody should look or why. If she wants to go and… and fuck around with how many moles my skin has, fine!”

I get up, grab my bowl, and walk off to drop it with the dirty dishes. No one says anything.

“Can we go get me some more clothes now?” I ask when I get back.

“Yeah,” Orville agrees, standing up but refusing to look directly at me. “Let’s go, Vita, I think I have some stuff we can jury rig to fit you. It’s going to be a bit big, but you can tie it in place.”

“Whatever,” I grumble. “Everything is too big for me.”

Not long after I have some pants and a tunic, although to my mounting irritation I continue to have no weapons. Whatever. I’ve lived my whole life on the streets without a spear, I’m sure I’ll be fine one day back without it. With how fucked up and bloody my face still looks, I doubt anyone will give me too much shit. And if they do, well…

I’m always hungry.