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Do It Like the Old Days

Pale green eyes, sallow and weary, watched the figure pace in slow strides across the quarters. His jaw locked and his fingers steepled together with focused agitation, features sagging with a pronounced frown while the “guest” fiddled about with little regard for the watcher’s station. The absurd disrespect.

Varyd was highborn, birthed in the heart of Capita Vallen, distinguished Ordis Commander, respected by peers, veteran of three skirmisher tours ‘round the Broken Neck, and now retired to an admirable position as a guard of Her Eternal’s Glorium Maxa. His shield broach, perched on his right, remarked upon his position with silent authority, and even the Capitan Triage would buckle at his word with such reverence for his name (or at the least, heed his advice).

This visitor? Hardly mattered. Didn’t care. Regarded Varyd like an entertaining spectacle, like a hardy joke, never mind his lack of thankfulness as a guest on the Maxa. It took a great deal of restraint to not simply cull upon a band of Solarian Reavers and dispense with this creature. But he could not. This one was a guest. . . as were the others, unfortunately.

By the brightest spear of Sol Solarius, had the Empire grown this desperate? Truly?

“You’ve really come together, Varry my boy!” said the “guest,” sneering and humming, casting his eyes about the prestigious quarters with feigned intrigue.

“I see you’ve a new bust, to honor your graceful aging. Not a wrinkle on that forehead of gold, ohahah!”

Varyd grimaced just listening to the thing. A strange electric distortion rattled the speaker’s words, and often the ghostly ambiance of sounds or music accompanied him. Sometimes the chorus of people. Evil, wicked arcana as far as Varyd was concerned, the kind yanked from the dark, dreadful yolk of a hellish domain. Unfortunately, precisely what the Empire tragically needed.

The Ordis command pushed back in his chair, adjusting to the palpable mock in his visitor’s tone. Behind him a grand oval window, depicting the twilight sky pushing through fields of clouds. The diligent hum of the Maxa rumbled below, powering the glow-torches nesting in the corners of Varyd’s quarters.

“Ahhh. . .” said the creature, going to a family of books. “Well now. . .”

It grinned ever wider, touching one of the tomes with a talon-like finger. “Nature of the Bleak. . . ‘an exploration into the profane.’ Why, Varry my boy! That’s a little out of your color, isn’t it? You never struck me as a dabbler.”

Varyd grunted. “Enough of your prattling. Tell me what you want so I can be done with this ‘meeting_.’”_

The creature straightened, folding his arms behind him, locking upon Varyd with those beady, red eyes.

“But this is what I want. Oh, I love catching up with my chums on the other side, ohoho! It gets rather dull in the city sometimes, you know?”

“I don’t.”

The entity waved its hand. “You really ought to pay me a visit. It would be so entertaining.”

To think Sol Solaria needed to consort with this ilk.

Most did not know, and most would not know, but in the deepest heart of the Capita Sola, churning the bountiful flow of Ichor, rested the Iron Sun. A gift from His Glory. Yet. . . the Iron Sun weakened, faded, taxed without reprieve for decades, centuries. So much of Sol Solaria relied on the ebb and tide of Ichor, but its regression couldn’t be stopped.

In desperation, the Empire turned to the unknown.

This fellow came that unknown. A tall, pale thing with grayish flesh and a shock of coiffed scarlet hair. A red suit adorned his frame along with a ceaseless, carnivorous grin, an endless rictus never fading. Whereabouts he came from Varyd knew little, save it was a purgatory of demons. Not the kind in proximity this realm – no, no, this fellow ushered from a seemingly separate reality.

For now, he went by “The Dealer.”

“I have a more distinguished station to attend to.”

The Dealer chuckled. “Rounding up the cattle is a methodic task, yes?”

Varyd shifted, an uncomfortable grimace sagging his features. “I have my orders.”

The Dealer gave a mock salute. “So you do. What an enviable station, I must say!”

Dealer strut about again. “But the fun part is, I don’t. Because if I do, I get bored, and I hate being bored.”

Varyd leaned forward. “If you’re thinking about altering our arrangement, you will sorely regret it.”

Dealer switched his eyes back to Varyd and they shifted with distorted static. “Now, now, never threaten me with a good time. . . buuut. . . don’t stress that dainty little dome of yours, I keep my word! Rather, I’d like to enhance things, because the paperwork now is so dull.”

Varyd snorted. “No bargaining.”

Dealer tilted his head and grinned wider. “Even if you get more in exchange?”

The Ordis Commander blinked, hesitant. More was. . . needed. Badly. In an effort to slow the accelerating collapse of the Iron Sun, the Empire tapped into dark energies and arcana to feed the machine. The results were often disastrous, but otherworldly energy proved powerful. The Dealer was a direct link to more of that power, holding essentially the key to a banquet, and right now the beast was starving.

Dealer noted the silence. “I thought as much.” He approached Varyd’s desk.

“It’s nothing complex, Varry my boy. . . I just want things to get a little messy. You’ll get what you need, and so will I, but not without some havoc, you see.”

“I won’t let you hurt innocent people.”

Dealer laughed, throwing his head back with a roar of chuckles. “My friend, no one here is innocent.”

Varyd huffed. “Why are you asking this?”

A grin, wide and revolting. “Things are changing in more ways you could possibly realize.”

-*-

Confusing. All so confusing.

The feeling stirring in his chest. The clarity, then lack of clarity. Kernels of timid, genuine happiness, overtaken by tides of guilt. Right, wrong, couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t understand it. So.

Edwin did what he could to center himself. . . by hanging around his companion of impulse and indulgence. It was one of the only things he considered “normal.” Well before he dragged his boots out of the horrifying swamps and into the northern parts of Solarian country, well before he knew Aloise, Edwin just had Pik.

Pik of the Wikayka Yoklin. A troublesome little wanderer getting into all sorts of mischief. She had an eye for dangerous plants, forbidden Arcana, roaming beasts, enchanted alcohol, and “substances.” Specifically drugs – by Sol she had good drugs. Funny how those weren’t the traits that caused her exile.

Everything you wanted to steer clear of for a healthy, stable life. She was his friend, a person he could confide in.

“Bogbrain! Look!”

Edwin gazed down to see the spritely gal holding up a large fungus, a white crown dotted with glimmering spots of purple. To him it was utterly useless and probably death if eaten, but for Pik?

“Itsa’ Vileblotch!”

He crossed his arms. “A what?”

Pik shifted it around in her hands, studying it. “Vileblotch! These skuzzers grow off of giant boa! Dead ones, I mean.”

“Of course they do.”

He was with his gal in another part of the Glorium which – for all intents and purposes – was a greenhouse. A small one, but those who fancied exotic horticulture gathered here to find various fauna from all across the world. For Pik, it was better than a whole bag of greenleaf.

Edwin decided to accompany her today. He needed time to. . . process. Parts of him were clearing. Light poured into the black, horrid depths of his marsh-devoured soul. But other parts were fogging up, cloudy, uncertain.

Telling Aloise felt harder than it needed to be. The bun wasn’t mad. Perhaps a little disappointed, though maybe it was just because he couldn’t have Ed all to himself again. But disappointed for other reasons? No. Or. . .?

Bah, what, why? Edwin didn’t know. He wanted Aloise happy. . . and Pik. . . and himself!?

“You okay up there, Ed?”

He must’ve been staring into the distance again, like he usually did. Edwin blinked. “Ah? What? Oh, right, no, yes, fine.”

Pik chittered. “No you’re not!”

Pik, satisfied, tossed one of the Solars to the vendor, an old man wearing a robe and surrounded by jars, selling the Yoklin her prize. She grinned, yanked it, and they strode along the interior of the chamber.

Around them were humble gatherings of different folk. Much like the bar Edwin visited previously, it had faces from all sorts of places. They passed a pair of women cloaked in deep scarlet, holding enormous bows from the desert trees of Salath-Sahar. A winged vulture with magnificent purple-black wings squabbled with his armored companion, examining a seller’s collection of shivering gems. A Southlander mouse set out her banquet of homemade foods (to which Edwin picked up cherryjam, the taste of home). Not possible anywhere else – seemed to the market was more “accepting” than the rest of Solaria.

“What’s all the skuz, swampfoot?” continued Pik. “Pretty boy told me about the disc. Gettin’ your pipe drained clear things up? Kekeh.”

She wasn’t. . . completely wrong.

Edwin shook his head. “Ah, Pik. Damned if I know, I don’t. . . even. . . know what I’m trying to say.”

“When do you ever?”

He tried with honesty. “I don’t wanna’ hurt your or Al.”

Pik stopped. She cast her eyes up to the swamper, head tilted. The light caught her frame, forcing Edwin to stare.

“Why ya’ thinkin’ that?”

Edwin managed a smile. A small, tiny one. But it was real. Given that there was no direct sunlight to harm his moon-cursed skin, he wasn’t wearing his protective scarf, so Pik got a gander, and she boggled.

“Cause I’m thinkin’ too much.”

Her pointed ears flicked. “. . .uh huh.” She raised a finger.

“Hang on. . .”

Pik parted her long, bluish-black bangs, revealing the other quirk having gotten her in so much trouble. On her forehead, a third eye parted open, a deep, frightening sclera of violent purple hues. The white iris shifted in erratic, dangerous fashion, shivering with sparks of onyx. Pik opened her palm, conjuring forth a cauldron, summoned from the same Arcana channeled out of the eye. The cauldron, however, was made of a living metal, and its rim bore teeth as a mouth wood. Pik tossed in her latest acquisition to which the cauldron happily “ate.” She closed her palm, the eye, and the summon vanished.

A few alarmed stares came their way, but she pulled at Edwin’s leg and they moved along.

“Thinking?” she repeated.

Edwin, used to her magical shenanigans, was unphased. “I. . . yeah.”

“I can get ya’ some better drinks.”

He shook his head. “Not about that.”

She studied her companion, concern pulling her features. “. . .the nightmares? They comin’ back?”

Edwin managed another smile, though it was odd and fractured. “That’s the thing, Pik. No, I. . . I’m sleeping again.”

The Yoklin tilted her head.

“I feel good.”

Now PIk smiled. “What’s bad about that?”

She spun and splayed out her arms, tossing hips. “I fukken love feelin’ good!”

Edwin sighed. He collapsed to his haunches, staring at the ground. The two were alone, at least briefly, surrounded by the exotic trees, bushes, flowers, and vines collected specifically for the Maxa. Almost a forest, if you ignored the roar of the leviathan ship’s engine.

“I’m not supposed to,” Edwin admitted. “I shouldn’t.”

Pik twirled and stared. “What?”

Edwin pushed a gloved hand into his forehead. “Sol. Pik. I’m just fucked sideways. I can’t have this, but I want this. Ever since the job with Al, somethin’ changed. Dunno’ why. I started caring more. I got to feel. . . okay. All the shit vanished, all the fucking shit. I got to just exist without. . . remembering.”

“. . .Ed.”

“I want, and I hate that I want. The ways I’ve been thinkin’, PIk, it’s all so. . . Sol curse me, I don’t know!”

Pik crossed her arms. “Yeeek. Aloise did ya’ right in. Never seen you all wound up like this, Ed.”

Edwin pulled his gaze up and looked at his companion. “It’s not just him.”

PIk was a lot of things to Edwin. She helped him forget, and despite her violent nature, she was caring when things were bad.

“. . .are you gonna’ be okay, bogbrain? I’m here for ya’, skuzwa. Like always!”

She was also pretty.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you both.”

She laughed. “You said that already.”

“I mean it.”

“Pbbt,” PIk scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Eddy you’re a fuk of a good shot but, I think we can handle you.”

A bitter chuckle. “Don’t mean like that.”

Pretty. Quite pretty. Edwin’s mind stirred.

When a few mugs into her shroombeer, Pik called herself a “shortstack.” Edwin found that was a crude but appropriate way to get the “idea” of her in a go.

Oh, she might have sported wild grins and manic magic, but by any standard Pik was a looker. She possessed a youthful, girlish face with wide, curious eyes, a cute nose and pointy teeth. Dark jade marks accented her light green flesh, married to a short river of inky jet hair that shivered with blue accents in certain light. Long pointed ears complimented the rest of her frame, supple and wide in all the right places. She might have only stood high enough to reach Edwin’s waist, but she sported a plump arse and perky, generous chest.

It took Edwin a few drinks before he could drown the marsh of his soul to notice her, but when he did. . .

“Then how? Come on, Ed. Ya’ gotta talk to me!”

Edwin shook his head, defeated, grinning like a damned idiot, staring at the ceiling. “Sol, fucking curse me. I. . . I. . . like you both. A lot more than I thought. . .”

He felt so stupid. “And then I wanna’ fuck you both senseless.”

A hand came over his face. “But then I don’t. I hate the feeling. I’m not supposed to have it. I’m supposed to atone, be damned me.”

Pik blinked several times. “Zok. Wow. Whoa. . .”

She scratched her head. “All because bun boy rocked your cock on a job? Shag! I mean Ed I’ve done that a dozen times! The hell he do that’s so special!?”

Edin looked away, towards a tree. On its branches were the juvenile growths of fruit. Peaches. One full grown, the other newish. Green and pink. UGH.

“Wasn’t him,” Edwin muttered. “The disc. . . thing. Something.”

“Ohhh yeaaah, he mentioned ya’ got hornier than a zokking wolf in heat.”

Edwin flicked a pebble. “What am I gonna’ do.”

She snorted. “Well ya’ just said it, didn’t ya!?”

“Huh?”

Pik made a hole with one hand, a fist with the other, pushing said fist into hole. “Fuck us, right?”

Edwin said nothing.

“Yeeek. Bogbrain, come on! Fucking is like, half my religion! Is this all because ya’ finally want’a bury the bone? You know, not drunk?”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Riiiight. The moment you get some of that good zukk you just happen to feel better?”

“It’s not that simple.”

Pik raised her hands. “I’m just sayin’. Bun boy is you know, kinda’ all about that? And I’ve got one of Murzma’s books. . . what, you need something new? Cause I can get new.”

Edwin clenched his fist. “You’re not just meat to me. I’m not. . . everything isn’t right with me, Pik, you fuckin’ know that.”

He closed his eyes. “Sol help me when I get the nightmares. . .”

Pik put a hand to her hip. “But we help stop the nightmares?”

“. . .sometimes.”

The Yoklin grinned, leaning. “By. . . fucking?”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“It sounds pretty simple.”

Pik strut forward and fell into Edwin’s lap, perching herself on his leg. “C’mon bog brain, what’s all the gug and fwa? You really this worried?”

Edwin stared down at his friend, the artificial room light playing against her cute, green features. “Can’t just use you like that. S’what the guns are for.”

She snorted, crossing her legs. “You’d bang your guns if they were a woman.”

“Er.”

Pik rubbed his leg in comforting fashion. “Ah, swampy. . . you know Pik’s got your back. M’not afraid of your wild side. In fact, I like it.”

Edwin said nothing.

“Mmm, still remember that weekend at Dickshire.”

“Dirkshyre.”

“I know exactly what I said. Zok! The drinkin’, the fightin, that killer fungus we huffed. . . swear I saw one of Murzma’s horns! And you, gettin’ all feral on me.”

Edwin glanced away, clenching a fist. “Don’t like that part either. . .”

“Why not!?”

“It isn’t me.”

Pik blew a raspberry, hopping to her feet. “Not you!? Edwin fukken Greene, that’s all you! Never saw ya’ so happy!”

He frowned. “I was off my ass drunk!”

“And high.”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged. “So what? Didn’t it feel fucking great? Doesn’t it seem so right to let go? We’re on one of the fanciest flyin’ eggs this side o’ the world! We’re drownin’ in gold! Why are you so ‘fraid of that?”

Edwin looked at her, narrowing eyes, features hard and set. “You know why.”

Pik frowned. “Ed. . . it’s the past.”

The past, the deep, cold marsh. Its thick, thorny vines curled around Edwin’s soul and wiggled into every memory, haunting him. If he slept too long, he dreamt of it. If he stayed sober, he’d see it. All the accusing faces, all the eyes looking at him from the poison rivers. He wanted it to let him go. It didn’t hurt as much right now, so why couldn’t he have that?

“I don’t. . .” he tried to say, unable to finish. Couldn’t find the right words, really.

“Let yourself go,” Pik cooed. “You won’t hurt us. You won’t hurt me.”

He sighed, frustrated once again. “Like I said Pik, it’s hard. I want to, but I don’t.”

PIk rubbed her chin. “Hmm. That magic wibb-wobb sure did help.” Then, she snapped her fingers.

“You know. . .”

Edwin knew that tone. Uh oh. “Now, Pik, hold on. . .”

The Yoklin sported a wide, sharp smile. “Bwehehe. How long since ‘Dickshire?’ How long since you let the ol’ dog run, eh?”

He frowned. “Pik.”

“Oh, Ed, please. Don’t act like ya’ didn’t love it. You were a zukkin’ warhorse. Well, wardog. War. . . wolf? Bwahaha, I half expected a litter ya banged so hard, ahaha!”

“Pik!”

“Whaaaat?”

Edwin didn’t know what to say.

How long was it, really? Years? Years since the beast let loose. Years since everything was so good. To lose control and let the animal out, literally. It was a liberating experience of raw, beastly indulgence.

Pik crossed her arms. “Bun boy doesn’t even know yet, and I bet your share of the Solars he’d be fukken thrilled. C’moooon, don’t you wanna’ make him happy too?”

She mimed a blushing woman, pressing wrist to forehead. “Ooooh big mister wolf! Pleeeease be gentle! Kehehe.”

Pik continued. “You say ya’ wanna feel good. Well, breakin’ loose would help, now wouldn’t it?”

Edwin wanted to protest but he didn’t, because the allure was admittedly tantalizing. When Aloise used the Arcanagram, the magical music pulled him away from worry and strife and by Sol it was like he was his old self. Er, the randy one, at any rate. The beast? Oh, so ravenous, yet so right.

One last defeated sigh. “Alright.”

“Eeeheee, that’s my Ed!” cheered Pik.

“But,” continued Edwin, raising a finger. “Only for a little while. Start hearin’ things after a bit. Don’t need more of em’.”

“I knooow. Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna’ let ya’ go all moon-loonie on me!”

Edwin studied her. “Pik. . .” She rather enjoyed letting things fall to chaos when it suited her.

“I’m not that crazy!” she protested. “If you must know I kinda’ like this stuffy, floating toybox.”

He wasn’t so sure. But he’d trust her. If he was doing this, he had to, anyway.

Descending into the deeper, forgotten reaches of his inner self presented risk, but also relief. He could use an escape. He was flying high above the countryside of Sol Solaria for fuck’s sake. If there was a time to let go, now was it. The marshes could have his rotten corpse when he was back on land, but for now, he was living high. If his friends could, so could he, at least for a bit.

He suspected trouble ahead, but if it happened, it happened. He’d come to terms with that like he did most things: down the sights of a Soltech revolver or two.

“Alright. . . in that case. How are we goin’ about this?”

Pik tapped her forehead, gesturing at a closed eyelid. “I gots me a trick. I’ll buy ya’ a drink, handsome.”

Edwin mused. “Hmm. Like the time in that Yoklin dive?”

Pik flushed and sneered. “Oooh, now you’re thinkin’ like a dirty dog, Ed.”

-*-

There was no point in playing this whole affair clean. Not like Edwin had much fondness for the grand and wealthy, so if a room got scuffed, who was he to care? Pik certainly urged this on, much the attractive imp on his shoulder, encouraging indulgence.

So, they did. Pik did as she promised, snagging a gaggle of frosted bottles from one of the Maxa’s hangabouts, skittering away with it, an excited jaunt tossing her on. Edwin, in the meantime, found a different room for them too futz around in. He wasn’t going to risk his own and, doubtful Aloise would let this affair go on without getting involved. Oh, that was another time, certainly, but right now. . .

Edwin shimmied through an Arcanalock with a flick of purified silver, cracking through while Pik snuck in the room with him. It was a vacant chamber for another guest, but hadn’t been rented, so, it would make for a lovely surrogate while the two “did it like the old days.” They just had to get this quickie done before someone noticed. Or heard.

“Lock er’ tight,” commented Pik as she set aside the drinks. “Don’t want surprises!”

Edwin pulled off his scarf and thick overcoat, the contents jingling as he did. “You sure?”

She snorted. “I didn’t buy a gaggle o’girls, Ed, so probably don’t want any ‘friends’ poppin’ in.”

She wasn’t wrong. Edwin dutifully locked the door, or shimmied it close. That’d give them both a little space, time.

“Muuuuch better,” Pik added, her tone shifting to one something sultry. As sultry as she could get, at any rate, gal wasn’t always subtle.

Here, Pik tossed aside her pointed hat and unfasted her imprudent tunic, the cloth yanked aside and thrown in a messy clump. Unlike Aloise, she didn’t care much where they went, often having a violent opinion of clothes in general.

“Ahhh,” she said, stretching. “Zok, that’s sooo much better.” She grabbed a bottle and wiggled at Edwin.

“Drink up, doggy.”

Edwin snorted. By the dick of Uruzum, he hadn’t been called that in an age. He chuckled. He actually chuckled.

Edwin, though, shook his head and raised a hand. “No, no, Pik, it’s like at the tavern, right? Buxxer’s. . . bob. . . or something. Do it right, if we’re doin’ it all.”

“Bux’s Bottoms and Busts,” corrected Pik. “You forgot!? How! Don’t ya remember Tav and Taj!?”

Edwin was lightening up. This was good. “Aww, yeah, I think. The twins?”

“Yes the twins!”

He shrugged. “I was buggin’ on that shroombeer.”

“Well, let me jostle your memory. . .”

PIk cleared her throat. “Damn, I miss that place. . . ugh, Yoklin girls. . .”

Searching around, Pik managed to find an expensive plate, emblazoned with a precious family symbol, no doubt holy in origin. Crudely she plopped the beer atop at and hoisted it above her head. In servile fashion, she slowly sauntered towards her companion, wearing a smug, proud face, letting her legs and hips toss with an exaggerated sway.

“You skinnies are so prudent,” she said, coming to Edwin.

As she did, Ed got another good look at her frame. Her light green flesh had specklings of large marks and freckles, her healthy chest tossed together, and by Sol it’d been so long Ed forgot she had a piercing on her nip. Circlet of iron with a tooth, adding to her exotic flair.

“Like, really, just retire with me down in Yok’in country, Ed. Every place like that’s got a gal as far the eye can see. No fukken clothes! We could fuck each other! And them! And each other again, forever! Bahah!”

Edwin watched her and she raised the dish, presenting the beer. He took it, graciously, and swiftly gulped it down. He was gonna’ have it good tonight again. He owed to himself, and his friends.

“That’d jam a lance in your pepper scheme, Pik,” said Edwin, the smooth liquid rolling through him like a rush of warm gold.

She sighed. “Yeaaaah. . .”

“Still,” she went on, “Always with the clothes and the roses and the dances. Bah!”

“Not everyone is as refined as you, Pik.”

She shook her head, tossing raven locks. “One day!”

Edwin heaved a sigh, a fire lighting in his chest. The burn of alcohol lay sieged to the cold, dark swamps in his soul, drowning out the memories and the creatures and the ghouls. His reserved exterior peeled away, bit by bit. He could see himself, nake in the night air, feet on blue grass, throwing his pale, ghostly eyes to the dark twilight. And there was not the sun, not the kingdom of Sol, but the Moon. Ah, moon, beholder of mad thoughts, Eye of the Dark, giver of the moon-curse. The source of his fears, his anger, and his indulgence.

He was with his commander under the moon, and he remembered her under its light. . .

“Hey!” chirped Pik. “I’m not gripin’ about clothes for nothin’, Ed!”

She gestured at his frame. “You’re gonna ruin those.”

Afterward, Pik spun and wiggled her thick backside while she strut back to the bundle of swiped drinks. She bent in exaggerated fashion, grabbing her bottle, cracking the head open with ruthless mirth before gulping down the foamy brew. It dribbled down her lips, slipping onto her breasts, pooling in the floor.

Huff. The man locked away in the cold, clammy grips of poison swampwater vanished – if slowly. Rising from its mucky embrace was Edwin, young Edwin, the carefree lad who spent his teen years pipin’ and drinkin’. He’d have himself a merry hunt, bring back a bristleboar for mum, she’d cut the meat and he’d do it again. Ah those days of warm wheatfields and berrybeer. He was a layabout, but a layabout with a damn good eye. For both food and the gals.

Gagh. The drink. It took him back there. Sol, what was her name? Seska, lass with the long blonde brain and a bust bigger as a summer fruit. Ah, those days. . . before the swamps.

He swigged more, downing the drink in a fell swoop, getting notably looser. “You’da a made a damn good lass at the dives,” commented Edwin, undoing his attire.

Pik gagged down her drink, wiping her lips, slurring with a chuckle. “Ff, why, cause I’d just I’d hate clothes?”

“Obviously.”

“Pah!” chortled PIk, breaking another and drinking more.

Edwin’s head lulled to the side. “Think ya’ woulda broke me every week, spent all my earnings.”

She shrugged. “Guess we make up for lost time.”

Edwin shifted the rest of his attire off, slurred, a little tipsy, and feeling like fire spilled into his blood. Bare and exposed, Pik chucked her empty bottle aside and smacked her glistening lips. “Now there’s my silver-haired concubine. . .”

Pik sauntered to him, where Edwin stood. The Yokln girl crossed her arms, rubbing chin. “S’pretty convenient, isn’t it?”

“Ah?”

“Yoklin’ girls don’t gotta get on their knees to work your gun, Ed.”

He managed something resembling a smile. “You’ll spoil your appetite.”

“Shubuh! I’m gettin’ my dick!”

She gripped the soft but erecting flank, groping the inches with her skilled hand while incurring a long, warm groan from Edwin. Didn’t take long for the gal to fool about with it, taking the tip and shoving it into her cheek, smacking it against visage in playful, raunchy display. Then, in a swift embrace she slipped the tip into her mouth, her long tongue snaking around the entirety of Edwin’s malehood before plummeting the fleshy blade into her throat.

“Mmmmgk. . .”

Edwin gasped, his fingers touching and rubbing her long pointed ear in approval. The swampy briars entangling his soul vanished, he was again the young, care-free lad so many years ago. Where Aloise was slow, sultry, and sweet, Pik was ravenous and lustful.

PIk popped him loose, saliva and presex slipping from her lips. “Try feelin’ grumbly now, Ed.”

He grunted. “Well now that you mention it. . .”

She kissed his tip. “You’re askin’ for it!”

Edwin smirked and with swift strength, gripped PIk and yanked her up to his chest. She gave a surprised ZOK as Ed swung an arm underneath her plump, soft haunches, pressing his lips to hers. He kissed her with eager appetite, causing her to flush, though she didn’t resist. He was – forgiving the phrase – a bit over the moon, and his desires and affections spilled out.

“You’re a fukin’ beautiful pile o’ trouble, Pik,” he grumbled between kisses. She snagged him by the shoulders, face going hot, pressing wet, soft lips back to his and his face.

“Nnnzzznznz. . .” she buzzed, ears flagging. Here, Edwin shifted, pulling them both to bed as he pushed her to her back, assaulting her with playful nibbles and smooches.

“FUK!” she chimed. “Zzzhh, nnf, dog ain’t even out yet!”

Edwin ignored her for moment, suckling at her plump front, fingers twisting and pulling at her piercing as he lapped at her bare breast, lost in himself. “He will be. . .”

Then, he pushed himself up by arms, looking at his cute, blushing gal. “Pik,” he groaned. “Ready?”

She dawned an expression utterly manic. “Break the fukken’ bed!”

At once, Pik’s third eye pulled open. That shivering, shifting ocula peered forth, its purple, alien hue hinting at sinister powers while it focused on Edwin. The swamper stared dutifully as he and the eye affixed like a longing stare. At first, there was nothing but a pregnant quiet. Then, Edwin felt his heartbeat race, like a hammer against a drum. The eye spoke in silent incantations, whispering the sinister songs of the Moon.

“Oh. . . fuck. . .yes. . .” roared Edwin. He clenched the sheets as a sudden, bestial surge erupted through his entire frame. Muscle, bone, meat, blood, soul, body, all things ripped and groaned and screamed in terrible, beautiful unison. His frame warped, his physical structure changed, he let loose the curse within. The swamp burned away in a silvery fire as the creature he held in the deepest recesses of himself tore out. It was the “blessing” of Dagados, the one thing imparted to him he didn’t entirely regret.

Pik watched her friend descend into the hulking, gorgeous beast. In a moment, there was a defined, tall human. In the next, a rough, growling hound covered in silver-white hair, not quite man nor wolf. Some called it lycanthropy, some thought of it as a mutant. To Pik? Mmm, delicious, her friend letting loose.

Indeed, a long pink tongue lingered from muzzle as the panting beast blinked, stared at Pik, and huffed.

“Theeeere’s my good dog,” Pik chided, gripping Edwin’s face and nosing him. “You still in there, Ed?”

The heaving, wolfish creature growled. “Rrrrgh,” he said, licking her face.

She snickered, looking him up and down, glancing at his hard, excited rod, which had, well, grown in size. Pik gestured at the dribbling cock with her foot. “Okay doggy, deal’s a deal. Didn’t I tell you to breed me? Er, wait, was it break the bed. . .”

Edwin was less coherent, only understanding a few words. Like “breed.” Like an excited pup he panted, dragging his long, drooling tongue against Pik’s frame. She cooed and shivered, flushing again. “Nnnfnffzzzz. . .”

Adjusting, Pik twirled around, raising her haunches in the air. She wiggled her hefty backside, as hungry as he. “Okayokayokay, come on!”

Didn’t need to tell the dog twice. Edwin’s mind had fallen into a chaotic stupor of instinct. There was hardly any “him” right now, only beast. He knew Pik in this state, and Aloise, and some of his surroundings, but that was all. The best part? None of the memories bothered him.

Like the animal he was, Edwin took position. He split open the wide, fat green cheeks, roughly clawing and groping the chubby slopes while his bestial tongue shoved into Pik’s hot snatch. She yelped in girlish, excited delight as it wiggle and sloppily sampled her, shoving and pumping in such brutish inelegance. It allowed Edwin to get drunk on her, as if a randy caniform under a few beers wasn’t already.

When satisfied, he took his great claw and shoved her head into the silky sheets while his leaking, hefty wolf-cock prodded at her lips. Pik’s sodden, hot snatch shuddered, dribbling from arousal.

“Oh fukwa!” she shrieked. “Give it!”

She panted animal fashion, not too dissimilar from her hound counterpart. “Dirtyfukkendogdick!” she said in excited breaths.

For Edwin, his beastly eyes looked upon the Yoklin girl like adorable prey. Nubile, prone, presenting prey, like the prize post-hunt. With a gruff ‘woof’ he shoved his fat, ornery inches deep into her suckling tunnel, burying the bone, plunging his starving loins into her hot split.

“NNZZZ!” Pik buzzed, eyes rolling up, tongue hanging free in dizzy bliss. She clenched the sheets as Edwin ‘arood’ loudly, driving himself, hot, savory cunt tightly wound about his inches.

“That’s it!” said Pik, drooling, “Fuk! Fuk me! Fukken breed me, dog! Nughg, Ed, I can’t take it! Just fuk!”

Exactly who was the randy one, now?

Oh but Edwin was swimming in a sea of bestial lust. His strong, powerful frame threw itself into Pik’s tunnel. His digitigrade legs spread and his loins threw in slow, practiced rhythms. They were surprisingly coherent given his state, but even he knew not to waste this opportunity by banging the bed in half.

“Ghhhhghg. . .” moaned Pik, panting, saliva trailing down her chin through clenched teeth. Her sounds were like music. . . like the music from the golden disc, urging Edwin to buck harder. But this time, he let loose.

She snarled and shoved his wolfish muzzle next to Pik, biting at her ear while his hips wound up and slammed into her with brutal, unforgiving swings. Each one caused the bed to whine and wheeze in protest while the thick, burly houndcock punished Pik’s damp pussy. Every motion, every collision sent lewd, sloppy claps throughout the room, intermixed with the hound’s rumbling growls. Unrelenting, steamy hammering slaps bounced Pik’s generous rear, shaking her green slopes, pumping into her cunt with the kind of mindless indulgence Edwin only mustered as this thing.

Pik cooed, along for the ride. She was fucked stupid, to put it coherently, her visage stretched with a foggy bliss. Her thoughts were hot and senseless, a chorus of wanting more. How savage and simple, but pure. She loved it when Ed lost himself, got back to his wild self, let himself go. He was also so put-off, lost in himself, and now look at him! Fucking the night away like a lad hot on the town! You’d think he was shoving his cock into the Empress herself with how he moved!

“RGGGHG!” growled Edwin, pausing. His pink inches drooled with presex, but he wasn’t done. With one merciless shove (much to Pik’s horrified delight), he slammed the rest of himself into her, the knot filling into Pik’s stretched walls.

“Glllkkkkk! NGH!”

Pik was stunned, as the throbbing, weighty meat shivered, pulsed, and burst. All at once a torrent of hot, sticky seed drowned her walls, spilling into her with a floodgate of bestial issue. Wave after wave after wave of Edwin’s essence pumped into her, testes trembling while he drained into that pretty Pik pussy.

The Yoklin shivered, frozen, in a haze of orgasmic heaven as her wolf claimed her with such uncompromising force. Her tunnel overflowed, dripping trails of thick white pooling into the sheets, her curvaceous frame dappled with beads of sweat. The knot tied her down like she was naught more than breeding stock, and she loved it. Chaotic, unhinged, sordid, all those things the regular folk shied from. Hah! Suckers.

“Guuuuugugh Eeeeeddddddyyy. . .” she moaned. “I t-think you fukken pumped a whole g-generation of litters in me. . .”

The panting, heaving wolf leaned down, slurping at her cheeks with hound-kisses. She laughed, nuzzling the warm, white fur. “Nnnf, good dog, good wolf. . .”

“Rrrrgh. . .”

She kissed the furry cheek. “More, Ed, more, fuk me! Use me!”

“Arroo?”

She grinned. “Don’t stop until you’re dry!”

Well, the bed wasn’t broken yet. . .

-*-

The evening (or whatever the time was, the duo lost track) faded into a messy, noisy night of mindless intercourse. Pik exchanged positions, filled each and every time. She’d push Edwin to his furred back and ride his wolfcock, her hefty bosom and bottom wobbling with each rise and fall.

She’d worship the pink, sloppy length, pressing the inches between her perky tits, massing the tip with mouth as her companion lapped at her soaked cunt. Over and over with unyielding stamina (thanks in part to some of Pik’s magic shroomery), and indeed, until the ritzy bed shattered from Ed’s acts. Perhaps it was for the better – by the time he reached his final orgasm the sheets were. . . wet.

Still, it hardly meant Edwin was fatigued, not in his moon-cursed wolf body. It took what little control he had left to stop, because if stayed this way, the voices would return, among things.

Pik, reclining on the cracked remains of the bedroom furniture tilted her head, panting. Her green frame glistened with sweat, her cleft overflowing with seed, sipping idly on a beer.

“Ready to come back?” she croaked. Edwin, opposite side of the room, glanced at her, managing to nod with a rough growl.

Pik did the same, weakly opening her palm. Bleak Arcana channeled through her Daemon eye, summoning a black, flesh-like bag. From it, she pulled out a syringe, de-summoning the parcel. Gesturing to Edwin, the wolf clambered over, allowing Pik to press the needle into his neck, flooding his body with a glowing blue liquid.

Like before, the result wasn’t immediate. But soon, just as Edwin’s heart raced, now it slowed. His body twisted, shifted, returning to its normal state. Fur melted away, bones cracked back to their human form, until Edwin – his regular self – remained.

He panted, limp. “By the big fuckin’ tits of Karletta. . .”

Wobbling, Pik managed to wade over to Edwin, nearly tripping as she did. She fell into his arms, where he curled them around her, holding her close. Didn’t matter she was a sticky mess.

“Hggh, bogbrain,” purred Pik, resting her cheek on his chest. “Fukken animal.”

Edwin said nothing. He looked at his friend and partner, seeing her in a different light. Much like did with Aloise now, in fact. His mind – for now – cleared. His heart pumped, unburdened, unshackled by the gnarly barbs of the marsh.

Instead, he kissed her lips, slow and gentle, tasting their sex. Pik ‘mrrped’ in surprise, eyes fluttering, but gave in.

“We should get back,” Edwin whispered.

“Only if ya’ carry me.”

“. . .alright.”

She smirked. “Naked.”

“Pik.”

“CARRY ME BACK NAKED.”

He shook his head. “If we get tossed off this wreck I’m takin’ your share.”

-*-

As luck would have it, the two waded back to their rented quarters without much fuss. Might be someone saw a man carrying a naked lass in his arms, but given the Glorium Maxa’s overall purpose, wrote it off as nothing.

The two cleaned (together, as they used to back in the day) and tossed on some new attires. Or Edwin did, at least. Pik chose her bare form, as usual.

Sometime later, Aloise returned. His elegant, perfumed body sashayed in, kicked the door behind him close with a heeled boot. “I’m back,” he cooed.

In his arms were a bundle of bags, acquisitions from the various fashion markets found in the bowels of the Maxa. “Ugh, sorry zhat took me so long,” said the bun. “Zhe tailor was a complete airhead. He’d never worked with Ussadian silk, much less understood zhe importance of silver cuffs on a black overcoat!”

Setting the bags down, he looked at the two. Then, he winced, making a face. “. . .what. . . is zhat. . . AWFUL smell!?”

Edwin blinked. “Uh.”

“Blegh! It smells like a family of dogs!”

Pik snickered to herself. “Yeah I bet we’ll have a family of dogs. . .”

“What?”

“Nuttin’.”

Aloise flicked his eyes between the two, squinting. “Hmm.”

“Well. . . anyway. I got a few zhings and I’m famished. Should we eat? Since you’re both here.”

Edwin brightened. “Sounds like a damn good idea. When’s the last time we had a nice din’ together?”

Aloise, a little surprised from Edwin’s enthused, perked. “Ooh. Uh, well, yes. A while. Order in?”

“Order in!” added Pik.

Edwin nodded. He glanced out the room window, viewing the dark sky, and the distant eye of the moon. He heard it whisper its cursed song, but ignored it. For now, his friends were more important.

Strange.

The songs sounded like static.