INTERIOR – The girl’s underground base, living space. The firepce is not on.

  PRESENT - THE BOY (Still wearing torn clothes. Sitting on the floor, at the girl’s request.) THE GIRL - (No armor, just the hoodie and hat. Visibly tired, yet at the same time too wired to fall asleep. Arms crossed as she stared down at the boy with a sleepy disappointment from the sofa.)

  TIME – SUUUPER te.

  “In hindsight, I guess I should have expected that would happen.” The girl spoke, squinting her eyes some. “I mean, you didn’t accomplish squat during your actual training.”

  “that is true.” The boy nodded from below.

  “I guess I was still holding out hope that you still had some incredible power hiding behind those stupid Bug eyes. That somehow an actual life-or-death scenario might awaken something.”

  “i do not think it was inherently a bad idea.” For whatever reason, the boy was incredibly confident that that was a thing that could happen. If not to him, then to someone else. Perhaps if their arm got torn off, or some other such thing.

  “Not that it matters…” The girl let out a tired sigh. “… Some tent talent or unusual fighting spirit woulda been cool, at least…”

  “i did learn how to make the pillow. that is pretty good.” The boy began to fantasize about hugging the pillow again. He contempted summoning it.

  “Ugh. Yeah, what an incredibly useful feat of spellweaving that is…” She rolled her eyes, of course, tiredly.

  The boy decided he’d summon it after she went to bed.

  The girl blinked a few times, and squinted again. “Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, tryna put you through a life-or-death situation was pretty dumb as it is. I left you chained and starving for over six months and you came out fine, heck are some Bandits were gonna do?”

  “indeed. my ability to not die is astounding.” He nodded along.

  “Hmmmmeh.” The girl groaned in such a way that perfectly communicated ‘Don’t get cocky, Bug.’

  The boy continued to nod in agreement, missing most of the finer subtleties of her groan.

  “. . . I’m starting to think I’m not a very good teacher.”

  More nodding. “that appears to-“

  S L E E P Y  G L A R E

  The boy stopped nodding and shut his mouth.

  The girl sighed yet again. “I dunno. Guess we'll have to try something else. Maybe I’ll just cover you in spikes and make you run into people. Heh, that’s actually kinda funny…”

  “that could work.” It also could not work, for all the boy knew. His understanding of combat and tactics was sorely cking. And, truly, he’d much prefer to be covered in something softer instead.

  “Yeah… Ehe, yeah, that’s funny…” The girl giggled sleepily to herself.

  A minute or so of sleepy giggling ter, and the girl sunk, her head resting upon the sofa cushion.

  She was blinking heavily. It seemed that her wired-ness was going away, and the tried-ness was once again taking hold.

  “Hmmmnnnmmn…” She let out one final groan… “Bug, get me a gss of milk…”

  “okay.” The boy stood up, and swiftly stepped over to the rge coldbox in the kitchen/dining area. “chocote or the non-chocote?”

  “… Non.”

  The boy was already reaching for the chocote milk. This was an unusual decision for her.

  He grabbed instead the sack of reg-

  SACK???

  *ahem* regur, non-fvored dairy, and pced it upon the counter, before fetching a small cup, and carefully pouring the liquid within. He returned the SACK of milk to the box, and delivered the beverage to the girl.

  She zily snatched it from his hand, and shifted it so that she was holding the base of the cup in the palm of her hand, ensuring that her fingers crawled up as far as they could.

  Her lips moved quickly, and she began to whisper something indecipherable just beneath her breath.

  “ooooh.” The milk began to ripple and shift, in a way that the boy found utterly entrancing. “what are you doing, hat?”

  “Making warm. Think I heard that some people do this sometimes or something somewhere… Always wannnned to try it…” She let out a yawn.

  “ooooooh.”

  A short while ter, the shifting and rippling ceased. Looking confident, the girl raised the gss to her lips.

  . . .

  She squinted.

  She sipped again.

  She nodded.

  Another sip.

  Confirmational nodding.

  “This sucks eggs.”

  The boy was just barely familiar enough with metaphors to discern what that meant.

  The girl took another hefty sip.

  She went to bed soon after.

  INTERMISSION END.