Colorful

The tip of Cody’s nose twitched as he closed his eyes and drank in the warm, delicious aroma in the air. Even if he hadn’t already committed the recipe to heart, he swore he could could pick out just about everything that’d gone into the pot by smell alone. The scent of carrots, tomatoes, onions, homemade beef stock and about ten or eleven other things lingered in the air as Mrs. Morrison ladled a generous amount of her famous stew into a nearby tub.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, Mrs. Morrison,” said Cody, setting the last of the freshly rinsed dishes onto a nearby rack to dry. He turned off the faucet and removed the long, thick gloves from his hands before turning with a goofy grin for the seasoned chef herself. “Every time I dig into your cooking, gosh, I swear it’s like I’m right back at home.”

Mrs. Morrison tucked the now sealed container inside a brown paper bag before handing it to Cody. “I must’ve said it a million times, so Lord help me, ‘cause I’m about to say it again,” she started, jabbing the air with a pointed finger. She looked up at Cody, her lips a wry smile. “Young man, sooner or later, old Mrs. Morrison ain’t gonna be around no more. And can you bet your behind you’re gonna miss me! ‘Cause if they put me in the ground tonight, you’d be right back to eatin’ spam by the end of the week, I guarantee it. I guarantee it.”

Cody clasped a hand to the back of his neck and laughed, having a pretty good idea of where this was going.

“I’m just sayin’. Sooner you find yourself a nice young gal, the sooner you can stop worrying about that sorta business,” said Mrs. Morrison. She reached up to pinch his cheeks in the way all grandmotherly women seemed to do.

“Mrs. Morrison, for both our sakes, I’m counting on you to hang on in there.” He rubbed at his cheek.

A knock came at the door, and before long, Mrs. Morrison was heading out with the ladies for “a night on the town”, as she liked to put it. In reality, it was senior’s night at the bowling alley again. Cody gave her his usual goodbye hug as they both stepped out of the flat. Mrs. Morrison and her entourage went left in the night while Cody went right—right back to his apartment.

---

Clark opened his eyes. Before him, a seemingly endless forest stretched further than his eyes could follow. Together, the treetops formed a skyward sea of autumnal oranges, yellows and reds. Behind him towered a familiar boot-shaped boulder.

There was no doubt about it—this was where he’d stood when he’d last signed off. The site was only the first of several landmarks he’d been told to keep an eye out for. With a little bit of luck, it wouldn’t be long before he came across the ruins he’d heard about. Something told him that things would be different this time. He was sure of it.

With his eyes locked steadily on the forest ahead, Clark took a deep breath. With his teeth clenched and his lips pulled into a hesitant smile, he forced his legs to carry him forward before he changed his mind.

@Emmeline Valenick​

 

25 HP

MAX HP

10 EN

MAX EN

Blood. The colour red was the only thing that filled Emmeline's vision as she stumbled through the forest of Astorea, trying to reach Seto's domain. Every once in a while she would be ordered by the duke to take out a family of npc's if he considered them to be weak, useless, bad, or just pricks in general. Every time, she reluctantly agreed. Why? Because it was her job. They were npcs. They weren't real people... At least, that's the logic that kept her sane as she stumbled through the fields of TerraSphere.

Unfortunately, this time around, it hadn't been very clean. She had been sent out to take out a man. He had been disobeying orders of Seto of late, and she had been sent out to end his life. If he was a good guy or bad guy, she didn't know- She just followed her orders. But unfortunately, it was almost as if they knew she was coming, and to protect their leader the servants did whatever they could, even if that meant throwing them in harms way. And harms way, at that point, had been daggers of ice that ended their life, and their leaders in turn. But in the process, Emmeline had been hurt a great deal, and Seto had been offline, so... Here she was, hiding behind the trees as she tried to find her way, eyes heavy with exhaustion. How long had she been walking for? What time was it now? She didn't know, she just needed safety.

But it was hitting her hard, and it was hitting her fast. She tried to keep to the shadows to not alert other players, but as she came to a small clearing with a gigantic rock in the middle, she let herself fall out of the shadows of the trees and to one knee, trying to get back up to her feet. Taking a glance to the side, she noticed a man standing there, who seemed to be a newbie, and that just made her try to leave faster. She didn't want a newbies first couple experiences to have to be coming across her, blood on her dress, in her usually clean blue hair, and smeared on her snow white hands. However, as soon as she pushed herself a little more, she just feel further to the ground, hand reaching out to keep herself steady on a tree in front of her. So much for that.​

 

As Clark drew closer toward the outer fringes of the forest, his ears suddenly caught wind of a crunch of fallen leaves. He snapped his head sharply towards the source of the sound, but trying to pick out anything through the dense undergrowth was looking like a lost cause. The rustling quickly began to grow in prominence, and Clark began to recite a certain incantation he’d been practicing under his breath. He bit his tongue just before reaching the final verse in the series—a past woodland escapade had taught him the value of buffering one’s spells, so to speak. If worst came to worst, he figured he could complete the incantation once the creature revealed itself. Wishful thinking, perhaps, for an untested and complete novice of a magician. Mostly, he just found it a bit more comforting than the thought of being eaten by bears.

To say the least, it was something of a relief when a girl stepped out of the woods, rather than the millions of other creatures he’d been imagining. His heart and mind still racing, Clark was truthfully less focused on what she was, and more so on what she wasn’t. “Man,” he said, smiling. One tended to smile upon realizing that they wouldn’t be experiencing a world of pain within the next couple of seconds or so. Of course, that was always a possibility down the line, but he tried not to think about that.

“Didn’t think I’d be running into anyone else today. Way out here, I mean. Not much around these parts, y’know? Well, I mean, it is pretty nice here when I think about it. Lotsa trees, if you’re into that sorta thing.” He scratched his head and looked around the clearing. “Oh, and I guess there’s that big rock over there that kinda like a boot if you turn your head a certain way and squint a little,” he said, gesturing behind him. “Not that I’m, uh, implying you’d come out all this way to look at a shoe just on account of being a girl.” Suddenly feeling a bit self-aware, he cleared his throat. “Um, anyway, I don’t mean to hassle you or anything. Have yourself a nice day, okay?”

The girl dropped down on one knee, and he found himself catching her eye as she glanced at him sidelong. She looked tired, and he wondered if perhaps she’d gotten herself lost in these woods. It was around then that he noticed that the red splatters and swirls on her person were starting to look less like crazy, postmodern decoration and more like blood. He watched her stumble forward and catch herself against a nearby tree. “Aw geeze.” Without much thought, Clark hustled over to the blue-haired girl.

There was no question about it—it was blood. If the sight of it on her hands, hair and dress weren’t enough, the metallic aroma erased all doubt. He dropped to a crouch by the girl’s side and scanned for any obvious entry wounds, albeit with his hand held out in front of his eyes and his fingers spread apart just enough for him to look through the cracks. Blood was blood, virtual or not. Icky stuff, to tell the truth.

“Gosh, what the heck happened to you?” he asked. Finding himself at a loss for what to do, he bit down on the end of his sleeve and yanked at the fabric with his teeth. “S’lil harder than it looks,” he mumbled with a mouthful of sleeve. He spat out the cloth for a moment and looked back to the girl. “Miss, I’m gonna need you to show me where you're hurt, if that's not too much to ask.” He gave the cloth another tug with his molars, to little success. “Dang it.” He gave the clearing a quick sweep of his eyes. As far as he could tell, there didn’t seem to be anyone else nearby. “You wouldn't happen to have a knife or anything, would you?” He shook his head and breathed out through pursed lips. That seemed to be like a lot to ask of someone who was exhausted, covered in blood and possibly in a state of shock. “Actually, don't worry about that. I think I’ve got it...” he said, tearing back into his sleeve.

 

25 HP

MAX HP

5 EN

MAX EN

Was he... Trying to hold a conversation with her? Emmeline had been kinda confused as the man blabbed onto her, trying to manage some words out of her mouth only to come up with nothing but a small breath. As he approached her, she almost shrunk away from him, alarm flashing in her grey eyes as she did so. Maybe it was from that fact she had just gone through an attack, or that she didn't want to get someone random tied up in something gruesome and bigger than he was? Either way, it was hard to stop him now.

She kept her eyes turned down to the ground in a way that could be considered shy, but it was actually shame, glancing up every now and then with tired eyes to watch the man fiddle with the sleeve of his sleeve. Show him where she was hurt... Was he going to try and bandage her wounds with his shirt? Her eyes softened at his chivalrous act, even if in her right mind she would have stopped him, mentally reminding herself to slip a shirt from Seto later to give to the man. He deserved it, after all. However, there was no need to use his teeth, if he was going to do such.

She held out her hand carefully, a dagger made of ice materializing in her hand, letting her body drop gently against the tree as she used her other hand to take one of his hand in hers, placing the ice dagger in his hand before dropping him altogether, body slumping more as her energy dropped at the use of magic. Maybe not the best idea in the situation... However, she moved in a way that a major wound in her side was revealed, giving Clark easy access to bandage her up. She hadn't said anything yet, finding herself even too tired to speak. Just a little bit of rest would help... If only she could sleep, just for a little... That would be just right.​

 

Clark cocked his head slightly to one side as the girl produced a gleaming dagger of ice. True—he was, by definition, a magic user himself. But his own meager illusions felt almost understated compared to these tangible, more physical, displays of magic. Strictly speak, though, that wasn't exactly relevant to more pressing issues at hand. Probably something to mull over at a later time.

He clasped his fingers gingerly around the icy construct as the girl slipped it into his hand. As the object left her fingers, she slumped, and he opened his lips to speak. As green as he was, he felt fairly certain that more energy had been sunk into that little blade than he would’ve preferred. Clark glanced at the girl’s face; in their downcast gaze, her eyes eluded his own. She was quiet. She was exhausted. She was hurt. So, without a word, Clark closed his mouth.

His attention shifted now to the wound in the girl’s side—he flinched at the sight more than he would’ve cared to admit, even with his other hand sparing him from the worst of it. And to tell the truth, inspecting a wound through the cracks of his fingers didn’t exactly seem like the golden standard for this line of work. Reluctantly, and with a couple of deep breaths, Clark pried his fingers away from his face. His eyes back and forth between the girl’s wound, which only continued to bleed out, and his own sleeve.

“Hey,” said Clark, forcing a slight smile. He tightened his grip on the dagger before detaching the fabric at the point where it’d met his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’m gonna ask you for a little favor,” he continued. He folded the fabric over itself several times, forming a thick square about the length of his hand. “Now I don’t mean to sound like a downer, but I’m sorta getting the feeling that you might be going out soon.” Gingerly, he placed the square over the girl’s wound before pressing down with a bit of pressure. “Not as in, uh, out out. Gosh, nothing like that. But, I mean, that’s probably pretty obvious, what with this being a game and all.”

“Anyway...” he said, moving the dagger to his opposite hand. “I hope it’d be alright if I got you moved somewhere a bit safer. I mean, if you were to pass out or anything. Just hypothetically, y'know?” Clark ran the knife around his remaining sleeve in a downward spiral cut, forming a long, thin strip reminiscent of a curly fry. "In a way, I guess the favor is for you to trust me. Not for too long, I don't think. Just for a little bit." Stretching out the makeshift cord, he wrapped it tightly around her midsection a handful of times, making sure to cross over the cloth patch on each pass. Finally, he finished the job with a tidy knot. "Just blink twice if it's a yes."

 

Through half lidded eyes, Emmeline watched the man struggle. He seemed to be conflicted, equally grossed out by the sight before him but not about to leave her here to bleed out. She remembered herself the first time when she came across gruesome sight in the game, but not in the way where it was bloody, but in a way where it made her heart ache. Tending to the Yladian elves as they espcaped their home country would always be engraved into her memory, But Lumi... It's just a game. They're npcs, they don't have real feelings. And that thought, in itself, was the only thought keeping her sane.

She broke out of her thoughts to turn her attention to his voice, eyes studying the fabric he was working with as he did so, as in to hone her full limited attention on him. The words which he spoke were kind of silly, and if she had had a little more energy then she probably would've mustered up a small smile or even a bit of laughter. However, her moment of amusement was interrupted by the pressure placed on her side as the man moved forward with the cloth, a small gasp escaping her mouth as she winced a little, eyes fluttering as the need to close her eyes called for her even more. She'd had her pain set to 'realistic', which was probably a stupid decision on her part, but that just it meant it made her feel more exhausted to deal with the pressure placed on her side.

Thankfully, he understood the message. He seemed to want to move her somewhere safer. Where? She didn''t actually know, seeing as she really didn't want anyone noble seeing her covered in blood. Her job was supposed to be done in secret, unless she was fighting for Seto out on the frontlines. Last night had been a mistake, an accidental slip up on her part. And she didn't need anyone knowing about it. But as the need to rest up and gain more energy back called more and more, she looked up at the man from under her eyelashes, blink twice as if agreeing to what he was saying, before letting her eyes slip into the closed position, her body going fully limp. She'd repay him once she got up, she swore she would.

35 HP

MAX HP

0 EN

MAX EN

​

 

Clark sat silent and unmoving as he waited for the girl’s reply. If he were being honest with himself, getting a ‘yes’ was pretty much just a formality at this point. She’d stumbled out of the woods dazed, injured and covered in blood; of course he’d get her somewhere safer. After all, he figured that a wound like that had to have come from somewhere. And from the looks of it, that somewhere was probably somewhere he didn’t need to be.

He watched as the girl blinked at him once, slowly, then once more. Again, her eyes fell shut, but this time, remained that way. Formality or not, it’d come as a relief for her to accept his help. As far as he was concerned, it was one less thing to worry about.

“A little bit of good old-fashioned R&R and you’ll be right as rain,” said Clark as he twirled the icy dagger between his fingers. Naturally, it slipped out of his hand and embedded itself into the base of the tree ahead of him, landing just a couple of inches shy of the girl’s cheek. “Uh, sorry about that,” he said, rubbing his nose as he yanked the blade loose. He slipped it into his bag before turning his attention back to the girl.

“Alright, now I figure you’re probably not so hot to walk right now, but that’s okay—how about just holding onto my shoulders or something instead?” he asked, giving her a moment to mull things over. “Oh, right.” He blinked. “You’re unconscious. Sorry, I’m kinda new to this.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m probably gonna stop talking now.”

~

It’d taken some work, but he’d eventually managed to hoist the unconscious girl over his shoulder. Granted, it hadn’t been at all graceful, and he’d spent a great deal of time figuring out where his hands were supposed to be throughout the process, but he’d gotten it done all the same. He figured that had to count for something at least.

With his eyes turned studiously to the forest floor, Clark slowly made his way from one purple stone to the next. He would’ve preferred to have stopped and pocketed each of the colored markers along the way, so as to erase the (admittedly minute) possibility of being followed, but with a girl slung around his shoulders, it’d been entirely out of the question. And the more he’d thought about it, the less likely it’d seemed that any creature around these parts would even be capable of picking up on that sort of trail in the first place. Besides—this way, he’d be able to find his way back to that clearing once everything was sorted out.

~

With a grunt, Clark set the girl down against the ground. As a courtesy, he slid his leather bag beneath her head before slumping down himself. Leaning his back against the cave wall, he rolled his shoulder within their sockets. A drawn out sigh escaped his lips. The clay floor underneath was cool to the touch, and although it was a long way away from a proper bed, felt considerably softer than one might expect. Turning his head, he peaked out of the mouth of the cave, scanning for any unwanted company. “I saw you wincing back there, at the clearing,” he said, his eyes still fixated on the forest outside. “I mean, I know I probably did a good thing and all, but still,” he continued, pausing to massage the crook of his shoulder. “Sorry about that.”

They weren’t out of the woods just yet, but they’d be back on their way before long. For now, Clark figured it was time for some good old-fashioned R&R. Careful to stay awake, he stretched his arms out and made himself about as comfortable as he could manage.

 

Emmeline wasn't even aware when her body was finally swung over Clark's shoulders in the most ungraceful way and she was carried through the forest towards a cave. She didn't move once as she was set against the cold cave floor, her head resting on a little bag that was not hers but made it comfortable enough that she wouldn't ache when she awoke. She didn't even awake when the man spoke to her, apologizing for being a help which she would have told him not to worry, that he had been more than helpful. She only awoke after he himself had fallen asleep, her eyes fluttering open as she narrowed her eyes.

The cave had become slightly darker as the day grew older, the light from an orange sunset casting colour against the floor as it dimly illuminated the room around her. She blinked for a couple seconds, both confused by her surroundings and by whatever had happened. She remembered stumbling through the forest, and... That was about it. Everything was pretty foggy from there forward. Thankfully, she wasn't dead and hadn't bled out so something- Oh.

As she sat up more with a hiss between her teeth as the wound in her side stung slightly, even though it was healing quickly due to the work of a video game, she looked over to the side, her gaze immediately falling on a semi familiar face in the dim light of the sunset. He seemed to have fallen asleep, or at least resting while she rested. That was... Sweet. Even though she could have left her here, someone he didn't know and go against this 'trust' she had put in him, he didn't. Lumi's usual pokerface crinkled into a soft smile, but only for a moment as she shook her head, focusing back on the moment.

She needed to get out of her, as quiet as possible. She tried to raise herself to her feet, but to no avail. She tried used the wall, but ended up sliding back down against it. This also took quite a bit of effort and audible but muffled grunts, and by the time Lumi had tried getting up for the 3rd time, she let her body slump against the wall, tired. She had to get out, Master Seto would be wondering where she went, and she'd brought this man enough trouble. But as she turned her gaze back to him again, her eyes laying on his tattered shirt, her face fell and a feeling of guilt welled up in her stomach. So, she plopped back on the ground, and turned her face in his direction.

Carefully, oh so carefully, she reached over to him and poked his arm gently, mouth drawn into a small frown as she did so, "Uhm... Hello?"​

 

Sunlight trickled steadily into the room, bathing it in the warm hues of a fading day. Cody’s glasses glinted at their corners as they caught the reflection of the setting sun. The light left him squinting a bit, but otherwise, he paid it little mind. Practically rooted to his seat, Cody darted his eyes wildly around the softly glowing monitor before him. He poured over the messy, yet intricate, geometric shapes and designs that filled the screen; with a stylus in hand, he made alteration after alteration to the document with frenzied flicks of his wrist.

From across the room, the lecture hall’s only other remaining occupant looked up from his desk. Every single last hair on the professor’s head and face had probably been grey for at least a decade, and his square-rimmed glasses looked to be about an inch or two thick.

“Westcott,” called the man. He packed away the last of his belongings into an old briefcase before raising himself up out of his seat. “Just giving you a heads up; this old man’s on his way out.” He scratched his beard. “Promised the missus I’d be home before dark and I figure I should probably oblige her for once.” He slid his arms through the sleeves of a heavy coat before buttoning it up. “I mean, hell, I love engineering as much as the next guy, but I figure my poor back can’t afford any more nights on the couch.” His grey headful of hair disappeared beneath the cover of a dark brimmed hat. “But hey, by the time you’re my age, guys like us just might be able to engineer ourselves some spines.”

Cody didn’t look up. A faint mirror image of his work reflected off of his glasses as he carried on without any sign that he’d heard the man’s words. His hand alternated between a stylus and an actual pen, making digital adjustments with the former and pen-and-paper arithmetic with the latter. By his estimation, only about half of the necessary calculations made it onto the page; the other half remained apparently locked away in his own head.

The soft clack of leather soles echoed in the empty room as the professor slowly made his way up to his student’s seat. All banter aside, he really did insist on having a word with the young man before he left. “Mr. Westcott,” the man repeated. Getting no response, he gave his bag a gentle swing and let it tap against the young man’s arm. “Earth to Mr. Westcott.”

-

Feeling a tap on his arm, Clark’s eyes fluttered open. He was greeted by the sight of a frowning, blue-haired girl. Having never fallen asleep before in-game, he immediately recoiled at the sight of less-than-familiar face in his room before managing to shake loose his sleep-induced delirium. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. He sat back up against the cave wall and helped himself to a deep breath. “Gosh, miss, sorry you had to hear that just now. Guess I was just a little caught up in the moment there, y’know? Sorta had the silly idea that I was back in the real world and that you were some sorta stranger or something.”

Clark paused, smiling as he reached over and grabbed his leather bag. “I mean, technically you are a stranger, now that I think about it. ‘Course, we both are, pretty much—to each other, on account of neither of us really knowing much about the other.” He fidgeted with the straps of his bag as he spoke, moving it about between his fingertips. “Er, anyway,” he continued, turning his attention back to the girl’s bandaged wound. It was hard to tell, what with the bandages and all, but it seemed to be doing better—for whatever that was worth, anyway. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you were feeling, but you’ve sorta been out of it for a while. But I mean, I guess you already knew that.” He blinked and cleared his throat before continuing. “Really though, I remember your wound being pretty gnarly back there. And bloody too. Really bloody, actually.” He shuddered a bit. “You weren’t looking too good. Your condition, I mean.”

Digging a hand into his bag, he produced from it a leather waterskin and a loaf of bread before offering them to the girl. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about though. I mean, ‘course you don’t—it is just a game, after all. But I guess I’m just hoping that you’re not in too much pain, you know? Pain’s no fun. ‘Specially not in a video game.” He shook his head with a frown, but his lips curled back into a slight smile before long. “I’m Clark, by the way. Clark Connors. Figured introducing myself might help prevent that whole stranger danger thing, y’know?”

 

If Emmeline had been anybody else, he probably would have jumped back as the man recoiled, but instead she just dropped her hand, moving back so as to give him a little space as she watched him carefully, curiousity dancing in her eyes as she did so, the only hint at what she was thinking on her face. It was only until he actually started talking that a smile pulled at the corners of her lips, finding his way of speech quite amusing, even if her own was different from the norm.

She didn't even talk when he continued to babble on, she just let him speak, letting out a low but feminine giggle as he played with his leather bag. In this situation, it was almost like she was watching a mouse, no intention of hurting it as it jumped about, squeaking at her nervously. It wasn't until he mentioned her condition that she got visually uncomfortable, her smile turning into a frown and her eyebrows creasing together as she cast her gaze away from him. This could be discerned as in shyness, fear, or even in shame, which was of the latter but it was all up for Clark to discern. With that, she moved to it against the wall as well, carefully placing her hands in her lap as she played gentle with her wound. And then it wasn't until he offered her food and drink that she looked up again.

He was too sweet and innocent, treating her like she deserved the bread and water he offered when she just slaughtered a household of npcs, guilt tossing and turning in her stomach as she eye'd it up, but his words snapped her back to reality as her eyes raised to meet his face again, studying him for a couple of moments He was right, It was just a game. "You're quite an interestIng man, you know that?" She simply said as she took the bread and water from him carefully, splitting the bread into two and passing the other half over before nibbling on her end. It wasn't until she took a few bites that she finally spoke again, turning her gaze back to the man who might have saved her virtual life, the man named Clark.

"Emmeline, but please, I prefer Lumi. It's in my sincerest apologies for what happened... I shouldn't have brought upon you such an inconvenience, and you've been nothing but kind to a random stranger such as I. I am in your debt, Clark." she said politely, managing a small but warm smile at him with a nod as she did so. It was almost as if it was habit, falling back into the speech path of Emmeline the maid vs Lumi the gamer. She didn't even know how to address him properly... How far gone was she? And did she really deserve to be around someone like this?​

 

If he were being honest, it came as a relief to see the girl smiling, no matter how faintly or slight. A smile was a smile through and through, and if nothing else, he found hers to be reassuring. But as the topic of her injury was raised, the smile left her lips, and Clark found himself making a mental note to let the issue rest for the time being. Game or not, pain and emotion were as real here as they were anywhere else, and he tended to avoid provoking either of those things when it could be helped. Still, a curious thought lingered at the back of his mind: what, or even who was responsible for her injury? But it couldn’t be helped; it was apparent enough that this was something of a sore spot, in every sense of the term.

At the mention of his being interesting, Clark gave a slight tilt of his head. “That’s what mom always says,” he said, touching a hand against his upper arm. “Well, not in those exact words,” he continued, rubbing his arm a bit now. “Okay, well, she doesn’t actually say that at all. But heck, she’s probably thought about it before. And hey, at the end of the day, it’s the pretty much thought that counts, y’know?” Pulling the leather bag onto his lap, he aimed a wry smile at the girl. “Really though—I think everybody’s pretty interesting. At least a little bit, right? I mean, besides like newborns, maybe. But I guess some people find them pretty interesting too. So yeah, come to think of it, I guess everybody’s pretty darn interesting.”

The girl accepted his humble offerings and Clark was happy to accept the half of the loaf of bread that’d been passed back to him. “By the way, I’ve got a second waterskin tucked away in here,” he said, giving his bag a pat. “So no worries or anything, okay?" In reality, it was a bit of a white lie; he had no such thing. But as far as he was concerned, the last thing a recovering person needed to feel like was a bother. Besides, he wasn’t particularly thirsty at the moment. “So drink as much as you need. Water’s not too hard to come by anyway.”

As she thanked him for his help, Clark caught on rather quickly to the peculiar manner in which she spoke. Exactly what it was about her words that made them so strange was hard to say, but as a whole, they struck him as a bit stiff. Though if her accent was anything to go by, maybe that was just they way they spoke back in Britain.

Emmeline’s smile stirred once again as she finished speaking. There was a quiet warmth to it, and he felt as though it were a good fit for the evening ambiance. “Hey, the way I see it, anybody in their right mind would’ve tried to help back there. I mean, I'd like to think that they’d have done the same, y'know?” He tore off a piece of bread from his half of the loaf and ate it quietly before continuing. “I know it’s sorta an old cliche, but I don’t think that makes it any less true. I think most folks just feel inclined to lend each other a hand from time to time.” He paused again to munch on another helping of bread. “‘Besides,” said Clark, flashing a grin. “You’re hardly a stranger, right? I mean, going off of what you told me just now, you’re Lumi.”