WITIDE Chapter 3
Jul. 29th, 2011 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sagesariaChapter 3
Their wanderings ultimately brought them to a library, a much simpler and safer starting point than just randomly asking people in the street about their predicament. The library was visibly quiet old, aided by the musty smell of old, worn paper and dust. It was a small, smotheringly silent space, and the few who were inside spared a brief glance up at them with the same curious look those outside did. After wandering the town a while, it had become apparent that this was a much smaller city than Chicago, both as it was boasted and as it seemed now when they were trapped there. It was starting to feel like the kind of town where everybody would know each other, making Judas come to the conclusion that they were just wondering who these newcomers were. But they weren't bothered further, the residents either being polite or just quickly discouraged by the sharp looks from Mechakara as he strode past them. Thankfully none of them commented on the huge sword strapped to Judas's back, either, what little of it could be seen under the coat she still wore.
Judas was quickly reminded how much she absolutely hated history in school when their first course of action was to pick the biggest books on the shelf on world history. It was obvious that even Mechakara had no idea what to look for, so the answer was simply to flip through the pages and find anything that might possibly be an answer. The results were about what she expected; endless droning about matters that weren't important to either of them with an occasional sentence or two that was. And it took several long, tedious, exhausting hours to get through it all.
It was late in the evening when they had to stop, mentally drained by the time the library closed anyway. It had started to rain since then so they took shelter in the bar next door, Mechakara's mechanical existence giving him a natural aversion to water. Mechakara now sat in a small booth farthest in the back of the bar, hands folded as he thought through what he was able to deduce in the library. The lights were atmospherically dim here, which helped give him a sense of privacy back here, and there was very faint music from closer to the front, something he vaguely remembered hearing in his time in the human world. He thought aloud, talking softly to himself.
"So I was right. There is magic here. This world is surrounded by it. Mankind didn't even think to need technology here; anything that they can't get from simple mechanics they either do without, or use magic to gain." he glared at a nearby magical light fixture as he said it.
"That must be the answer. Without technology, I couldn't exist in this world, so the incident that brought me here - whatever it was - gave me a form that would prevent me from disappearing."
He supposed he could be a little grateful for that. He certainly felt he had much more to live for. He rested his chin on his hands, staring at the wall.
"So the question now is...how to change back."
Judas Liz reappeared before him, sliding into the other side of the booth and setting a small paper bowl in front of him. He blinked, staring at her, and at the contents of the bowl; shelled nuts, covered in a speckling layer of salt.
"What is this?"
Judas gave him a sarcastic little smile. "We humans call it 'food.' Surely you must have heard of it?"
He shot her a dirty look back. He didn't need her talking down to him with that attitude of hers to further degrade him and remind him of his predicament. Her face turned more serious.
"Peanuts. It's all I could get, unless you have any money." she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, "You're in a human body now, you've been cooped up in a stuffy library all day, and you're tired. You need to eat something."
She nudged the bowl forward a few inches. The scowl on Mechakara's face did not fade, and in fact darkened slightly in annoyance.
"I won't stand for you coddling me like some child, Judas."
"You do want to live to kill Linkara, don't you?" her face was stern and serious.
There was a pause, before reluctantly he sighed, plucking a peanut from the bowl. He made a face as the grainy texture grated against his fingers, salt accumulating on them. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the little nut in his hand, slowly putting it to his mouth. His grimace was immediate as he bit down, the salty taste hitting his unacclimated senses like a punch in the lip. He wanted to spit it out, but his pride came to the conclusion that that would end up more humiliating with Judas looking right at him, so he bore it long enough to swallow it. He shot a look at Judas as she smirked at him, failing to hide her amusement at his reaction, as if he were that shameless Brad Jones.
"How can you stand to do this every day? It's revolting!" he choked, trying to clear the salty texture from his throat. She shrugged, her amused smile still not leaving her face.
"You get used to it after a while."
"I should hope I won't be in this form long enough to have to." he grumbled, begrudgingly reaching for another peanut.
There was some silence between the two of them after that. Judas watched the rest of the bar with a wary eye. She spent a lot of time in scummy bars in the rough part of town when she worked solo, and while this one was not so scummy, she still kept her habit of never letting her guard down in places like this, especially at a late enough hour in the night that the rowdy drunkards would start to peek out of their holes. Mechakara meanwhile started to find the peanuts only slightly more tolerable if he brushed as much of the salt as he could off first. Why did humans insist on so much of the stuff on everything? He frowned in irritation as it stuck to his fingers, too.
"So," Judas spoke up after some time, "any bright ideas on where to go from here?"
Mechakara drummed his fingers against the table as he thought a moment before answering.
"It's against my better judgment, but I suspect we will have to harness the magic in this dimension to proceed. Of course, I know little on the subject, and I assume you don't know much either, so more research may be necessary to find a way that it can help us."
Judas groaned at that answer, "So it's back to the library in the morning, huh?"
"It is the most private way we can learn anything here. At least now there we have a more specific subject to look into."
As Judas opened her mouth to complain further, really not wanting to spend another day staring at text, she suddenly turned as a hand pressed against her back. She let her guard down and hadn't noticed the man who had staggered to her side, and apparently neither had Mechakara. Or at least, Mechakara hadn't mentioned it. His breath reeked of alcohol.
"Huh," he said, "I thought angels had wings." the hand on Judas's back then slid around her shoulders, attempting to pull her into a one-armed hug. The long sleeves of his shirt were soaked through with sweat.
"How you doin' baby?"
Her disgust was clear on her face. She didn't even look up at him as she grabbed his hand to push it off of her shoulders.
"You'd better get your eyes checked if you think I'm anywhere close to an angel."
"Oooh, a bad girl, eh? I like that." he leaned on the back of the booth, still looming over Judas. Mechakara said nothing, simply watching with an agitated eye. The bitter smell on the man's breath offended his senses, and after everything else today he had little tolerance for interruptions, especially from a drunk human's libido. Judas meanwhile still didn't look up, instead subtly indicating the sword that sat barely peeking out from under Mechakara's coat next to her.
"Not if you like your dick where it is, you don't."
Mechakara probably would have laughed at that if he were in a better mood; he did admire her way with words when it came to violence. Instead his eyes narrowed in irritation as the drunkard continued to hover over their booth as if he hadn’t even heard her threat.
“Aw, come on, sugar. How about you an’ me get a beer, eh? You don’t have to hang around with this loser.”
That last sentence was emphasized with a look at Mechakara, and it was what finally snapped his temper. The next thing he knew he was on his feet, the booth’s table overturned, and the man was on the floor, clutching a bloody nose. He stood over him, fists still clenched at his sides, a slight twinge in his knuckles from the punch. The man looked up at him with a face of shock, and definitely anger.
What Mechakara hadn’t anticipated was the sudden blow to the back of his head and the high pitched shattering of glass; apparently the man had a friend willing to back him up. He staggered forward for a second, clutching his head, before turning and swinging behind him, just missing one of two bodies standing there. Judas Liz wasted no time jumping from the booth and grabbing one by the collar, while the other went after Mechakara.
He doubled over as a punch connected with his stomach. He already hated how fragile this new body of his was; not even Linkara’s punches hurt like that. Head still throbbing he lashed out, grabbing the thug by throat, shoving him against the wall just behind him. There was a heavy thud as the man’s head hit the wall, and Mechakara continued his assault with several punches. After several successful hits the thug found an opening to sock Mechakara in the eye, causing him to reel back. The nosepiece of his glasses scratched roughly across the bridge of his nose as they went flying off of his face, clattering into the wall and then to the floor.
He scowled. He so wanted to smash another bottle from the nearest table and shove it into the man's face. But the fight had already turned the heads of the entire population of the bar, many of them crowded around at a safe distance. Blatant murder was probably the last thing he should do with that many people watching, especially in an unfamiliar town. His brows furrowed and instead he settled the fight with one last move; shoving his opponent's head into the wall with all his might, sending him crumpling unconscious to the floor.
Behind him, the other man toppled head over heels over the upset table, his face bleeding and bruised. Judas Liz skulked past, attempting to quickly brush some blood from her fingernails. Her face was still sour and venomous, and as she snatched up her sword and the coat still sitting in the ruined booth, she turned to the first of the three men who was still on the floor and kicked him sharply in the groin. There was an audible and very satisfying crunch as she did so, and as he writhed on the floor in pain, without a word she turned and strolled towards the door, the audience to the fight all to eager to step out of her way as their eyes followed her. Mechakara followed as soon as he found his glasses, the arm of the frames hanging by a stripped screw and the lenses scratched visibly. Thankfully his vision didn't seem to be completely impeded without them, even if either way was nowhere near as pristine as he would have liked. If anything, it was the haze from that blow to the head that clouded his eyes.
***
The rain only barely lightened up since they last were outside. The two of them walked slowly down the street, Judas grumbling to herself.
"I swear, people like them. They think they own the Goddamn place and can just take whatever they want. As if I'm just another object they have any say over."
"At least they aren't any sort of threat compared to you." Mechakara replied cooly, busying himself with picking pieces of glass from his hair, his hat clutched in his free fist. His fingers were wet and red with blood. Judas now walked in parallel with him and she looked him over.
"Looks like you're bleeding pretty bad."
"I'm fine." he insisted, shooting her the irritated look he had used all day.
"Bullshit you are," Judas snapped back. She looked around briefly; by chance they were passing by what looked like a pharmacy. She clutched her sheath in both hands and forcefully thrusted it toward the store's window, smashing into the glass with Frostmourne's hilt several times to create a big enough opening for one to climb through. Thankfully there was no sound of an alarm, nor any sound inside for that matter, so she hoisted herself carefullly up the ledge of the display case through the broken window, glass crackling under her thick boots.
"Come on, I'm not gonna just watch you bleed to death."
"I am not going to bleed to death." Mechakara growled. But he followed her anyway; it was cover from the rain, if anything. Careful not to cut his hands on the glass as that was the last thing he needed tonight, he climbed over the display case and hopping to the floor inside with a motion that made him wince as his injuries protested the jolt from the short drop into the room. Thankfully Judas hadn't noticed, fumbling briefly along the wall for a light source, eventually finding, apparently by accident, a magic rune behind the counter that activated a single bright ball of magic light. Mechakara padded quietly into the center of the room, slowly lowering himself to sit against another display counter, glad Judas's back was turned so she couldn't see him grit his teeth from his strained bruises, or the slight unfocus in his eyes as he briefly felt somewhat light-headed.
"This is a waste of time. These injuries will pass soon enough."
"You just got a bottle smashed over your head, Pollo," Judas replied, rummaging for first aid supplies, "I'm not taking any chances. Besides, what else are we going to do while the library's closed?"
"I'm sure we could find something to do."
"Well I for one am done for the night." Judas strolled over and knelt at his side, clutching a package of gauze, "Lemme see your head."
She reached out to examine the wounds, only to have her hand roughly swatted away.
"Don't touch me," he snarled, moving away from her, "I said I'll be fine."
As he moved away, Judas suddenly scoweled and without warning she shoved him, knocking him sideways onto his stomach. From there she wasted no time in climbing on top of him, straddling his middle back, his arms pinned under her knees. She was suddenly a lot heavier than he last recalled, he realized as he struggled to wriggle out from under her. Damn this human body! Unable to move, he instead got indignant and vocal as her hands went through his hair.
"Get off of me, woman!"
"Just hold still so we can get this over with, you big baby."
Begrudgingly he determined that his struggles weren't worth expending the energy, especially when she was now easily in a position to slam his head into the floor if she so desired, and simply scowled as she found a few shards of glass he had missed, pulling them carefully out of his hair. That insult was not going to go unpunished, he was sure of that.
"So help me, Judas Liz, when I get my hands on Linkara's magic gun, do not think for one second that I will spare your life."
"You'll have to catch me first," Judas replied, aloof.
"That can - ow - be arranged," his threat was interrupted by a stinging sensation on his scalp, Judas dabbing blood away from a short cut across the back of his head with a wet cloth. There was a strong smell of alcohol.
"Honestly, with as many people as you've bragged about torturing, you really should know better than to just ignore these things. You are human now, remember?"
That got another angry outburst from Mechakara, as if he needed to be reminded, but it once again got cut off as he tried to lift his head to sneer at her, wincing at the sting of the antiseptic.
"Hold still." Judas insisted again. Mechakara slouched again, glowering at her out of the corner of his eye.
"If you must insist on treating me, you ought to be less careless with that."
"You think this is easy?" Judas snapped, pressing the wet gauze against the wound a little deliberately rougher than before, "There's a lot of blood back here, it's hard to see everything."
"I'd much rather do it myself."
"Well you're not," Judas declared matter-of-factly, using her other hand to hold his head steady as she continued to clean the wound. Reluctantly Mechakara let her, still mentally vowing to destroy her as soon as he got a chance. Finally she finished, pressing a dry bandage on the cut.
"There. Hold that. I'm gonna see if I can find something for that eye." her weight finally shifted off of his back, allowing him to touch a hand to the gauze, pressing it gently against his head as he pushed himself upright. As Judas paced the store again, he caught his reflection in the glass of the display case, getting his first look at the black eye forming where he was punched in the fight. It was tender to the touch as he tried to examine it. Another irritating reminder of the frailty of humans. He had never had to worry about bruising before, even with the skin suit; there weren't any capillaries to damage. At least it didn't look as bad as it could have been; it was only a small bruise around the edge of his eye. Still hurt though, and the dark cut across his nose wasn't too sightly either.
Judas was taking a long time with her task. Mechakara gingerly tested the cut in his scalp; the bleeding seemed to be slowing. He found a clean spot on the gauze and pressed it to his head again. Finally Judas returned holding a small sealed pouch.
"If you asked me, it's pretty incredible that they made all this with magic alone."
Mechakara glowered as she came closer, moodily snatching the pouch from her hands. It was cold to the touch, like an ice pack.
"Of course a human would think so." he muttered, placing the ice pack gingerly over his eye.
"Oh come on, humans aren't all that bad, are they?" said Judas, leaning against the display case as she lowered herself down to sit next to him, "You keep me around, after all."
"I 'keep you around' because allience with you has been beneficial to my goals."
Judas just shrugged with a little smirk, "I can live with that."
Their wanderings ultimately brought them to a library, a much simpler and safer starting point than just randomly asking people in the street about their predicament. The library was visibly quiet old, aided by the musty smell of old, worn paper and dust. It was a small, smotheringly silent space, and the few who were inside spared a brief glance up at them with the same curious look those outside did. After wandering the town a while, it had become apparent that this was a much smaller city than Chicago, both as it was boasted and as it seemed now when they were trapped there. It was starting to feel like the kind of town where everybody would know each other, making Judas come to the conclusion that they were just wondering who these newcomers were. But they weren't bothered further, the residents either being polite or just quickly discouraged by the sharp looks from Mechakara as he strode past them. Thankfully none of them commented on the huge sword strapped to Judas's back, either, what little of it could be seen under the coat she still wore.
Judas was quickly reminded how much she absolutely hated history in school when their first course of action was to pick the biggest books on the shelf on world history. It was obvious that even Mechakara had no idea what to look for, so the answer was simply to flip through the pages and find anything that might possibly be an answer. The results were about what she expected; endless droning about matters that weren't important to either of them with an occasional sentence or two that was. And it took several long, tedious, exhausting hours to get through it all.
It was late in the evening when they had to stop, mentally drained by the time the library closed anyway. It had started to rain since then so they took shelter in the bar next door, Mechakara's mechanical existence giving him a natural aversion to water. Mechakara now sat in a small booth farthest in the back of the bar, hands folded as he thought through what he was able to deduce in the library. The lights were atmospherically dim here, which helped give him a sense of privacy back here, and there was very faint music from closer to the front, something he vaguely remembered hearing in his time in the human world. He thought aloud, talking softly to himself.
"So I was right. There is magic here. This world is surrounded by it. Mankind didn't even think to need technology here; anything that they can't get from simple mechanics they either do without, or use magic to gain." he glared at a nearby magical light fixture as he said it.
"That must be the answer. Without technology, I couldn't exist in this world, so the incident that brought me here - whatever it was - gave me a form that would prevent me from disappearing."
He supposed he could be a little grateful for that. He certainly felt he had much more to live for. He rested his chin on his hands, staring at the wall.
"So the question now is...how to change back."
Judas Liz reappeared before him, sliding into the other side of the booth and setting a small paper bowl in front of him. He blinked, staring at her, and at the contents of the bowl; shelled nuts, covered in a speckling layer of salt.
"What is this?"
Judas gave him a sarcastic little smile. "We humans call it 'food.' Surely you must have heard of it?"
He shot her a dirty look back. He didn't need her talking down to him with that attitude of hers to further degrade him and remind him of his predicament. Her face turned more serious.
"Peanuts. It's all I could get, unless you have any money." she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, "You're in a human body now, you've been cooped up in a stuffy library all day, and you're tired. You need to eat something."
She nudged the bowl forward a few inches. The scowl on Mechakara's face did not fade, and in fact darkened slightly in annoyance.
"I won't stand for you coddling me like some child, Judas."
"You do want to live to kill Linkara, don't you?" her face was stern and serious.
There was a pause, before reluctantly he sighed, plucking a peanut from the bowl. He made a face as the grainy texture grated against his fingers, salt accumulating on them. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the little nut in his hand, slowly putting it to his mouth. His grimace was immediate as he bit down, the salty taste hitting his unacclimated senses like a punch in the lip. He wanted to spit it out, but his pride came to the conclusion that that would end up more humiliating with Judas looking right at him, so he bore it long enough to swallow it. He shot a look at Judas as she smirked at him, failing to hide her amusement at his reaction, as if he were that shameless Brad Jones.
"How can you stand to do this every day? It's revolting!" he choked, trying to clear the salty texture from his throat. She shrugged, her amused smile still not leaving her face.
"You get used to it after a while."
"I should hope I won't be in this form long enough to have to." he grumbled, begrudgingly reaching for another peanut.
There was some silence between the two of them after that. Judas watched the rest of the bar with a wary eye. She spent a lot of time in scummy bars in the rough part of town when she worked solo, and while this one was not so scummy, she still kept her habit of never letting her guard down in places like this, especially at a late enough hour in the night that the rowdy drunkards would start to peek out of their holes. Mechakara meanwhile started to find the peanuts only slightly more tolerable if he brushed as much of the salt as he could off first. Why did humans insist on so much of the stuff on everything? He frowned in irritation as it stuck to his fingers, too.
"So," Judas spoke up after some time, "any bright ideas on where to go from here?"
Mechakara drummed his fingers against the table as he thought a moment before answering.
"It's against my better judgment, but I suspect we will have to harness the magic in this dimension to proceed. Of course, I know little on the subject, and I assume you don't know much either, so more research may be necessary to find a way that it can help us."
Judas groaned at that answer, "So it's back to the library in the morning, huh?"
"It is the most private way we can learn anything here. At least now there we have a more specific subject to look into."
As Judas opened her mouth to complain further, really not wanting to spend another day staring at text, she suddenly turned as a hand pressed against her back. She let her guard down and hadn't noticed the man who had staggered to her side, and apparently neither had Mechakara. Or at least, Mechakara hadn't mentioned it. His breath reeked of alcohol.
"Huh," he said, "I thought angels had wings." the hand on Judas's back then slid around her shoulders, attempting to pull her into a one-armed hug. The long sleeves of his shirt were soaked through with sweat.
"How you doin' baby?"
Her disgust was clear on her face. She didn't even look up at him as she grabbed his hand to push it off of her shoulders.
"You'd better get your eyes checked if you think I'm anywhere close to an angel."
"Oooh, a bad girl, eh? I like that." he leaned on the back of the booth, still looming over Judas. Mechakara said nothing, simply watching with an agitated eye. The bitter smell on the man's breath offended his senses, and after everything else today he had little tolerance for interruptions, especially from a drunk human's libido. Judas meanwhile still didn't look up, instead subtly indicating the sword that sat barely peeking out from under Mechakara's coat next to her.
"Not if you like your dick where it is, you don't."
Mechakara probably would have laughed at that if he were in a better mood; he did admire her way with words when it came to violence. Instead his eyes narrowed in irritation as the drunkard continued to hover over their booth as if he hadn’t even heard her threat.
“Aw, come on, sugar. How about you an’ me get a beer, eh? You don’t have to hang around with this loser.”
That last sentence was emphasized with a look at Mechakara, and it was what finally snapped his temper. The next thing he knew he was on his feet, the booth’s table overturned, and the man was on the floor, clutching a bloody nose. He stood over him, fists still clenched at his sides, a slight twinge in his knuckles from the punch. The man looked up at him with a face of shock, and definitely anger.
What Mechakara hadn’t anticipated was the sudden blow to the back of his head and the high pitched shattering of glass; apparently the man had a friend willing to back him up. He staggered forward for a second, clutching his head, before turning and swinging behind him, just missing one of two bodies standing there. Judas Liz wasted no time jumping from the booth and grabbing one by the collar, while the other went after Mechakara.
He doubled over as a punch connected with his stomach. He already hated how fragile this new body of his was; not even Linkara’s punches hurt like that. Head still throbbing he lashed out, grabbing the thug by throat, shoving him against the wall just behind him. There was a heavy thud as the man’s head hit the wall, and Mechakara continued his assault with several punches. After several successful hits the thug found an opening to sock Mechakara in the eye, causing him to reel back. The nosepiece of his glasses scratched roughly across the bridge of his nose as they went flying off of his face, clattering into the wall and then to the floor.
He scowled. He so wanted to smash another bottle from the nearest table and shove it into the man's face. But the fight had already turned the heads of the entire population of the bar, many of them crowded around at a safe distance. Blatant murder was probably the last thing he should do with that many people watching, especially in an unfamiliar town. His brows furrowed and instead he settled the fight with one last move; shoving his opponent's head into the wall with all his might, sending him crumpling unconscious to the floor.
Behind him, the other man toppled head over heels over the upset table, his face bleeding and bruised. Judas Liz skulked past, attempting to quickly brush some blood from her fingernails. Her face was still sour and venomous, and as she snatched up her sword and the coat still sitting in the ruined booth, she turned to the first of the three men who was still on the floor and kicked him sharply in the groin. There was an audible and very satisfying crunch as she did so, and as he writhed on the floor in pain, without a word she turned and strolled towards the door, the audience to the fight all to eager to step out of her way as their eyes followed her. Mechakara followed as soon as he found his glasses, the arm of the frames hanging by a stripped screw and the lenses scratched visibly. Thankfully his vision didn't seem to be completely impeded without them, even if either way was nowhere near as pristine as he would have liked. If anything, it was the haze from that blow to the head that clouded his eyes.
***
The rain only barely lightened up since they last were outside. The two of them walked slowly down the street, Judas grumbling to herself.
"I swear, people like them. They think they own the Goddamn place and can just take whatever they want. As if I'm just another object they have any say over."
"At least they aren't any sort of threat compared to you." Mechakara replied cooly, busying himself with picking pieces of glass from his hair, his hat clutched in his free fist. His fingers were wet and red with blood. Judas now walked in parallel with him and she looked him over.
"Looks like you're bleeding pretty bad."
"I'm fine." he insisted, shooting her the irritated look he had used all day.
"Bullshit you are," Judas snapped back. She looked around briefly; by chance they were passing by what looked like a pharmacy. She clutched her sheath in both hands and forcefully thrusted it toward the store's window, smashing into the glass with Frostmourne's hilt several times to create a big enough opening for one to climb through. Thankfully there was no sound of an alarm, nor any sound inside for that matter, so she hoisted herself carefullly up the ledge of the display case through the broken window, glass crackling under her thick boots.
"Come on, I'm not gonna just watch you bleed to death."
"I am not going to bleed to death." Mechakara growled. But he followed her anyway; it was cover from the rain, if anything. Careful not to cut his hands on the glass as that was the last thing he needed tonight, he climbed over the display case and hopping to the floor inside with a motion that made him wince as his injuries protested the jolt from the short drop into the room. Thankfully Judas hadn't noticed, fumbling briefly along the wall for a light source, eventually finding, apparently by accident, a magic rune behind the counter that activated a single bright ball of magic light. Mechakara padded quietly into the center of the room, slowly lowering himself to sit against another display counter, glad Judas's back was turned so she couldn't see him grit his teeth from his strained bruises, or the slight unfocus in his eyes as he briefly felt somewhat light-headed.
"This is a waste of time. These injuries will pass soon enough."
"You just got a bottle smashed over your head, Pollo," Judas replied, rummaging for first aid supplies, "I'm not taking any chances. Besides, what else are we going to do while the library's closed?"
"I'm sure we could find something to do."
"Well I for one am done for the night." Judas strolled over and knelt at his side, clutching a package of gauze, "Lemme see your head."
She reached out to examine the wounds, only to have her hand roughly swatted away.
"Don't touch me," he snarled, moving away from her, "I said I'll be fine."
As he moved away, Judas suddenly scoweled and without warning she shoved him, knocking him sideways onto his stomach. From there she wasted no time in climbing on top of him, straddling his middle back, his arms pinned under her knees. She was suddenly a lot heavier than he last recalled, he realized as he struggled to wriggle out from under her. Damn this human body! Unable to move, he instead got indignant and vocal as her hands went through his hair.
"Get off of me, woman!"
"Just hold still so we can get this over with, you big baby."
Begrudgingly he determined that his struggles weren't worth expending the energy, especially when she was now easily in a position to slam his head into the floor if she so desired, and simply scowled as she found a few shards of glass he had missed, pulling them carefully out of his hair. That insult was not going to go unpunished, he was sure of that.
"So help me, Judas Liz, when I get my hands on Linkara's magic gun, do not think for one second that I will spare your life."
"You'll have to catch me first," Judas replied, aloof.
"That can - ow - be arranged," his threat was interrupted by a stinging sensation on his scalp, Judas dabbing blood away from a short cut across the back of his head with a wet cloth. There was a strong smell of alcohol.
"Honestly, with as many people as you've bragged about torturing, you really should know better than to just ignore these things. You are human now, remember?"
That got another angry outburst from Mechakara, as if he needed to be reminded, but it once again got cut off as he tried to lift his head to sneer at her, wincing at the sting of the antiseptic.
"Hold still." Judas insisted again. Mechakara slouched again, glowering at her out of the corner of his eye.
"If you must insist on treating me, you ought to be less careless with that."
"You think this is easy?" Judas snapped, pressing the wet gauze against the wound a little deliberately rougher than before, "There's a lot of blood back here, it's hard to see everything."
"I'd much rather do it myself."
"Well you're not," Judas declared matter-of-factly, using her other hand to hold his head steady as she continued to clean the wound. Reluctantly Mechakara let her, still mentally vowing to destroy her as soon as he got a chance. Finally she finished, pressing a dry bandage on the cut.
"There. Hold that. I'm gonna see if I can find something for that eye." her weight finally shifted off of his back, allowing him to touch a hand to the gauze, pressing it gently against his head as he pushed himself upright. As Judas paced the store again, he caught his reflection in the glass of the display case, getting his first look at the black eye forming where he was punched in the fight. It was tender to the touch as he tried to examine it. Another irritating reminder of the frailty of humans. He had never had to worry about bruising before, even with the skin suit; there weren't any capillaries to damage. At least it didn't look as bad as it could have been; it was only a small bruise around the edge of his eye. Still hurt though, and the dark cut across his nose wasn't too sightly either.
Judas was taking a long time with her task. Mechakara gingerly tested the cut in his scalp; the bleeding seemed to be slowing. He found a clean spot on the gauze and pressed it to his head again. Finally Judas returned holding a small sealed pouch.
"If you asked me, it's pretty incredible that they made all this with magic alone."
Mechakara glowered as she came closer, moodily snatching the pouch from her hands. It was cold to the touch, like an ice pack.
"Of course a human would think so." he muttered, placing the ice pack gingerly over his eye.
"Oh come on, humans aren't all that bad, are they?" said Judas, leaning against the display case as she lowered herself down to sit next to him, "You keep me around, after all."
"I 'keep you around' because allience with you has been beneficial to my goals."
Judas just shrugged with a little smirk, "I can live with that."
