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Going for a lovely riverside walk with your husband is a slightly different experience when you are carrying your husband's alter ego's head around with you.
“What a beautiful flower.” says Lord Flash 2, from the bounteous arms of Jane, his scarlet eyes doing their best to peer over the sweet ridge of peach flesh he is encased by. This ploy fails, but luckily he possesses a third eye in the centre of his mask's forehead, a third eye which was once a ruby, and this allows him to view the beautiful, beautiful flowers growing on the verge of the river. Sadly, he still cannot, even in terrestrial heaven, smell the hot and spicy scents of the exotic planet. And what an exotic planet it is, appearing to be a much more violent Ireland. “Is it not a beautiful flower, Nikolai?”
“...”
“Is it not a beautiful flower, Kolya?”
“...”
“Is it not a beautiful flower, dear girl?”
“It-”
A great burst of steam ejects itself to the left of Jane as her husband vents his ire. Warsman has only recently gone through the rigmarole of the blood and tissue transplant required to prevent him being murdered immediately by Mag Mell's gene based planetary defence systems, and he's still sore about it, especially as it was a more lengthy and complicated process for him, one that involved him rejigging the machine so it could actually do something with him. Unfortunately, now that all is well and he's here in paradise with his family, he must be on best behaviour, although his alter ego caused all the trouble in the first-
No. No, he caused all the trouble in the first place. The gene machine was very insistent upon that, and hearing it from a machine hits different.
“The brace position exists so you can cost the airline less money, did you know? Adopting it means you break your neck quicker.” says the robot head in Jane's arms. It is paramount that the head is kept away from the other pieces of its body, and Kevin (who also had to go through the gene transfer process) has already asked for it. However…he cannot be trusted not to reconstruct his best friend, father figure, and mortal enemy. And Lord Flash cannot be trusted in general. With or without being an avatar of Yog-Sothoth.
Warsman tuts, secretly agreeing with the quack theory put forth by the more confident form of himself. Trying to make things up with one's wife whilst one's debonair side is around, is his greatest challenge yet. Glancing down at his feet, he takes note of the glittering light bouncing off the emerald water, which also plays with the multicoloured petals of the wildflowers girding the river. He catalogues them - most are endemic to ‘Planet Robin’ and are not in his database. Many are deadly, to go by the teeth and poison spores. He will not pick one of those for his wife. The river flowers are no better, as some persist in transforming, suddenly, into whirlpools. Over on the opposite bank, a wild red cap pauses in its relentless hunt for human prey, to doff its cap at him. Such behaviour is becoming extremely tiring.
Eventually, after Lord Flash has given Jane a flirty and in depth rundown of how jet engines work, Warsman plucks a simple Mag Mellian daisy from the verge, and offers it to her. Pink, it matches her mask.
Proving, once again, that the Russian is an overthinking arsehole, her face lights up with delight, and a gratifying blush appears on her round and sumptuous cheeks.
“Thank you, Mr Warsie.” Though she may have been rescued from (and also put in) danger by the head in her arms, Jane only has eyes for her grimdark husband. Leaning down, she gives him a peck on the cheek, which makes him overheat again.
PyretheWolf Tue 02 Sep 2025 03:36AM UTC
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Babblecat3000 Tue 02 Sep 2025 06:09PM UTC
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