{The pounDang!} of heart-rate was finally receding in my ears, but half the amount of oxygen being drawn into my lungs was being inhaled through mouth. I relaxed a conscious effort to primarily breathe through my nose. My skin was clammy and dripping. I'd have to think about blowing out of this town cut right into the heart of a jungle… (although our latest resident was changing the livelihood of the locale.)
I peekeDown at the front of my shirt to behold the sight of Airship, drenched between the in$trum*oid solar system. Egads, the humidity all reminded me of one pressing issue:
I had to whizz like a racehorse.
I angled toward the Opening leading beneath the staircase, & hollered: "Hey, Gotta visit the bathroom! Be back in a few!" I pivoted back around the edge of the bar counter, hurriedly scooting past the whimpering Teeth, and slipped around the other corner of the bar which opened up into a dim corridor. Planting my arm upon the counter for a quicker turn, I leveraged my weight while trying not to clip my hip on the rounded stone -- but cracked my pelvis anyhow.
Cursing myself, I completed the motion, scrambling to the left. The hall swallowed me as I rushed forward passing a couple of doors and a mirror, in which I caught flickers of my tense image. Coming up was a fork in the hall. I glanced to the left: paintings and photos, vent system overhead, more pictures... gray DOOR!
I sped up to it and wiggled the handle. Dadgum! A Locked door.
I kept fiddling with the knob for a second in denial. Clack-Clack-Clack! rang out as I twisted in vain. The pain in my abdomen grew sharper, and I found my feet dancing a jig for temporary alleviation. I stomped & accelerated my tempo back the way I'd come; my regroup was blemished by the sight of a water fountain as I raced across the forked area. Of all the…
Every thud drummed in my ears as my boots lowered the boom on the floor. Now I was finally traveling the right I should've remembered from the outset. So why... did it look like I was charging into a dead end?
Surely it's here, I thought, not slowing down even as doubt annexed my mind. Then it clicked* Oh yeah, it was snuggled longside the wall in a parallel fashion from easy identification. Little more had I come to that conclusion when I overshot a doorway scooped out of the wall on my right. As I sought to turn on a dime, uninformed about some remainder of gunky brown attached to my boots, it was all squeals and car wrecks from there. First I bounced on my ass, then rolled towards the red bathroom door, audaciously reaching out as I skidded past it. The second move earned me a scuffed cheek.
Oye, maybe I should've just sectioned off a corner to my liking and hosed it down. It wouldn't have been pretty, but it woulda kept my bladder from rupturing!
Bear crawl was how I dragged my bones up from the ground. A silver plate occupied the space where a handle normally might: a swinging door. Finally, something going in my favor! I barreled into it with my shoulder, flying through the doorway over linoleum like a disgruntled bird.
Lighting upon the trasHeavenly target, I sprang to welcome, tugging furiously at the tangle of strings holding my baggy pants in place. Unable to wedge a decent gap between the waterlogged strings with my fingers, it occurred to me that I might unleash the Stream before the pants were removed from the line of fire. I was wigging out, hopping around, hands toiling, hope waning… tipping over the precipice of 'Piss gone amiss', when I finally succeeded in unfastening the snarl of the pants cord & vehemently thrust down the waistband in the same movement. This allowed the breach just in time to clear the material.
"Aaaaaahhh," I breathed. For some reason it felt like I had been holding my breath along with my bladder. Eyes closed in bliss, I launched into a random tune. Empty space yawned where the urine should have pooled. It splashed along the backboard and was absorbed by the cavity as it trickled down into the swamp. Pretty convenient how there wasn't a need for indoor plumbing out here. A constant pitter-patter faintly sounded from below. My humming intensified.
"Do you alwayz hum 'Oh Christmas Tree' while you, e'he, do your business?" a female voice tweeted from somewhere. My entire body jolted at the speech and jostled ruthlessly. I managed to defy the urge that told me to catapult through the roof. Still, I swerved, unable to stifle my fright, nearly falling into the rubber urinal hollering the next upcoming line of lyric: "LOVELY BRANCHES!" reeling with a shoulder into the wall.
Awkwardly angled leaning over the rubber hole with my back to the speaker, I curtly ended my job in a haste of mess. She tried cutting short a Horse-sized snort, and then pleaded, "Oh, I'm so SORRY! Very sorry!"
I swiveled to find Phoenix seated comfortably next to the sink with a hand pressed to her mouth. Her feet rested upon a more generic toilet made out of standard porcelain. My face was probably glowing more than the surface of a Sun as I lividly tried to reassemble my tongue into a shape of language that could congeal some shred of dignity.
"No No," I waved a hand through the air, "Go ahead and mess with me. That's just what I need when I'm already on edge. Thanks for crucifying the most enjoyable thing I've done so far today." But I was burning & blushing like a ripe tomato before her, and my sarcasm lacked real bite.
At my criticism, her demeanor changed back to her serious and assertive self. Hand dropping, she stated, "Honestly, no matter how I might've approached you, it might not end so well."
Although I spent considerable time with her two brothers, Tweezer and Rovo, she was not exactly someone I was tight-knit with. From what I could tell she was coarse, and I didn't think it a risk-free idea to try and evaluate if that was just a mask to shield her true identity. Certainly not pain-free.
It was hard to believe I was going to challenge her choices. But nobody humiliates me and walks away blemish-free./+_<
"But seriously," I contested, "All you had to do was at least wait until I was done. Did you have to meddle with me during myyy... Affairs?"
"Honestly," she repeated, eyes lowered to her twiddling thumbs, "it just made me feel normal to put a jolt into somebody. But," she stressed, "I'm not terribly worried about the Crab thing. It wasn't half the size of any of us."
Riiight. Thinking intently, I then implored, "Did you notice how it was pulsing out a strange, deafening sensation?"
"No actually," she remarked. "Deafening you say?"
With a sad shake of my hairy-locks, I quickly redefined my search: "Well, it looked like your brother experienced it too. You should ask him about it later."
Phoenix blew a frizzy lasagna chunk away from one eye, and shrugged. "I definitely will keep that goal in mind," and cast her gaze back to her lap.
It was unusual for her to avoid anyone's gaze at any time. That was how she made sure a person was going to feel her Impetus, and be swayed to knuckle under a matter.
"But there was something else about it too, Much harder to describe…" I was referring to the symbols, but after admitting there was more to be known, I wasn't confident I should proceed with sharing. Could I even describe how the Eagle nest seemed to be alive with floWyrms? And besides, could it even be deciphered? I decided I should keep it to myself for now. "Nevermind," I waved my hand. "Just the way it resisted your brother's strength was crazy."
She squinted at me. "It practically had a shell, Pyram. Didn't you see that?"
More than you know, babe; more than I wished. "Yea, I was right up on it, Pheo, but it didn't look that thick. Rovo's Trident is almost solid as diamond -- it should have been a jarring Blow." I Over-emphasized a laugh. "Then again physics don't always seem logical outside of a computer database."
"Certainly with his Build, indeed, that is strange," Pheo agreed. "But I've known him to be a little jittery when ambushed." She smirked a little.
"I observed the momentum he landed was none too shabby," I said to diminish her boasting. "However, I wonder whether Gutt's paying attention to recent developments in society if he chooses not to designate his restrooms. I can't tell if that means he's All-inclusive or counter-cultural."
Her eyes narrowed. "There is a latch on the door, so it shouldn't matter," she noted. "Are you stalling?"
Before she could interrogate me further, I formulated a complaint. "Look, I came in here for a quick pit-stop, alright. Not to have some speculative discussion. We really need to head back to get prepped."
I firmly intended to walk out, and rolled on my heels according to plan—but I was arrested cold in my tracks by her next words. "Don't leave. Please. Not yet."
The torture in them was unmistakable.
My social curiosities were barely intact. Do you want to dive into this sensitive side of her that you never knew existed? Right now? Then again, this behavior may not surface ever again... soo I hesitated. She views intimacy as a weakness or threat of some sort. This is her begging. For what?