Collide Gamer

Chapter 984 – Vacation Week 13 – Going Home Guys



Chapter 984 – Vacation Week 13 – Going Home Guys

Chapter 984 – Vacation Week 13 – Going Home Guys

 

The evening was petering out.

Whisky and the passage of time made the three of them drowsy. Magnus, most of all, was incredibly drunk. His usual discipline had been compromised by the earlier talk about his sister and he had been downing whisky like cheap beer since. The result was that John and Maximillian had to help him out of his seat, when they did decide to leave.

“This should be enough,” John said to Hera, placing several Tokens on the counter. The bartender inspected them. “Any problem?”

“Oh no,” she denied. “I just like looking at these. Every time a new series of Tokens hits the market, the design gets more interesting. Anyway, looking good.” She pulled the coins over the countertop. In the process, she looked over at Magnus. “Is he going to be fine?”

“We’ll get him home,” John answered. “Not sure if he will survive the next morning though.” Hera chuckled, even if she must have heard that same joke a million times before. About ready to leave, the Gamer had just one more question. “Longshot, but you wouldn’t happen to know who the brown-haired chap was that visited our table earlier?”

“Actually, I do know that he goes by Felt. He’s been showing up here every now and again for a month or so,” Hera told him. “He’s often hanging around other visitors’ tables.”

“That so?” John did not like the sound of that. ‘A foreign spy networking with the upper class, maybe?’ he theorized, but found himself too tipsy to continue that line of thought.

“Was there a problem with him?” the bartender asked.

“Nothing of note, just a personal disagreement,” the Gamer presented a half-truth and then raised his hand. “Anyway, I’ll get Magnus out of here before he stains your floor. I wish you a good night.”

“A good morning to you, John,” Hera responded jokingly.

Maximillian awaited him eagerly, one of Magnus’ arms slung around his neck. “Why do you leave the cripple to do the carrying, huh?” he wanted to know.

“We’re both cripples, buddy,” John reminded the gravity mage, even as he took over the role of supporting Magnus.

The taller man noticed what was happening and grumbled something that sounded like, “I fucking hate you,” which John found rather charming.

“Your legs still function, so you can walk and I can tell you where we are going, ‘blind’ buddy,” the self-exiled king pointed to the door. “Start with walking forward and answer my question.”

“Well, most importantly, it’s because I have Tokens,” John answered.

“Stupid new currency,” Maximillian grumbled.

“Less importantly,” the Gamer continued, once they were outside, “you’re just salty that I got the last word with Hera.”

“Damn straight I am. I’ve been working on that girl all night.”

“You already… got her number…” Magnus chimed in to the best of his ability. Every word sounded like pure torment. “Take the win… asshole.”

“I did not know you got offensive when you’re drunk,” Maximillian chuckled at his friend’s impotent insults.

“Am drunk… and pissed…” Magnus stumbled along with John’s steps. Because the Gamer’s Stat spread was nicely balanced, he had the physical strength to easily carry the lean Fateweaver. Realistically, all Magnus had to do was keep his balance and drag his feet. “Some fuck is sleeping with my baby sister…”

“Trying to,” John corrected.

“Cunt,” Magnus continued cussing. Their steps brought them through one of the unpopulated streets now. In a good part of town like this, everyone who was still up drinking at this hour was doing so inside. Whether that meant in their mansion or in one of the semi-exclusive clubs didn’t really matter. “Taking advantage of how young she is…”

“She’s like… actually, how much younger than me is she?” John wondered. “What’s her birthday?”

“New Year’s Eve,” Magnus burped. “I’ll never forget that day… I was so annoyed that I had to spend it in the hospital… I was… twenty-two…?” He blinked a couple of times, his strained breath creating clouds in the cold air. John mustered the man against the backdrop of the mansion property they passed. He still looked like he was in his mid to late twenties, but he was actually forty. “Turn of the millennium… I had a date… and she decided to arrive just on that day… I forgot all of that frustration… when I held her… and she grabbed my thumb…”

The sentimental recollection ended rather suddenly as Magnus ripped himself away from John and quickly stumbled over to a nearby bush. Just barely, he managed to keep himself from falling into it by holding onto the fence. The black iron was a sturdy barrier, letting him stabilize while he vomited in the direction of the dirt.

John scratched the side of his head, while Maximillian kneeled down next to their friend and pat his back. “Good job not vomiting on John,” he gave a joking compliment.

“I thought about it.” The Fateweaver tried to smile at the self-exiled king, but had to turn back towards the bush to let more of his stomach contents fall down into the decorative bush work.

John opened his inventory and checked what he had on him. ‘I suppose that will do,’ he thought and pulled out a box of homemade beef jerky. The Gamer always had some rations on him to survive a couple of days, should he somehow end up getting cut off from any form of supplies. It was a policy he held ever since they had been besieged in Warsaw.

He gave Maximillian the box to hold and then pulled out a medium bottle of water, offering it to Magnus. Taking it, the Fateweaver washed out his mouth. Then he spewed one final time. He washed out his mouth again. Then he actually drank some water. Then he stepped away from the fence, took two steps away from the scene of his accident and sat down on the sidewalk.

“Jerky?” Maximillian offered, having already opened and taken from the box.

“Yes,” Magnus responded and took two of the orderly sliced and equally seasoned strips of dried meat.

“You can’t just offer him my jerky as if it was yours,” John complained as he joined Magnus on the sidewalk. Maximillian followed the motion slowly, relying on his cane on the way down.

“Let’s be real, it’s Aclysia’s,” he pointed out.

“Tastes like Aclysia’s,” Magnus reinforced, gnawing on what he had taken and rinsing it down with some water.

“Y’all are bitches,” John complained and grabbed some of the jerky his weaponized maid had so lovingly prepared for him.

“We’re going to a less pompous place next time,” Maximillian decided.

“I thought you liked the place?” John was confused by that sudden announcement. “Poshness is usually right up your alley.”

“I like the splendour,” the self-exiled king said, “and I definitely like the service. What I don’t like is a place that doesn’t offer food with their drinks. I need my salt when I am drinking.”

“I guess pretzel sticks don’t fit the image,” John thought out loud.

“Let me order steak, then,” Magnus grumbled, wolfing down the jerky. Throwing up had clearly helped his lucidity and the following meal did the rest to get him mostly back to reality. “You’re an only child, right, John?”

“Yeah,” the Gamer wasn’t surprised by this topic change. It was more of a return to an earlier topic anyway. “I don’t even have cousins really worth mentioning. My family situation at large… I don’t know how to say it properly. Estranged, maybe? There’s no tension anywhere, but I don’t really know anybody well outside of my parents.”

“So, you never held a new-born?” Magnus asked.

“No,” John shook his head.

“I held Lee when she was this big,” the older man showed with his hands the rough size of a baby, “I watched her learn to walk and talk and how she turned from a bumbling moron into a sharp-witted girl… you should have seen father’s face when she first made a joke at his expense. He was so baffled and proud.”

“That does sound like Magoi,” John chuckled along Magnus.

“And now that tiny little thing wants to commit herself to being one of your women,” he quickly brought it back around. What remained of his rage was covered under resignation. “I just… really want the best for her.” He looked to Maximillian. “You have a sister, right? You probably understand where I am coming from.”

“Kind of, but not to the extent you are presenting here,” Maximillian confessed. “Probably because she is older than me or maybe because we are so much closer in age, but I don’t really care what she does. As long as she is happy and doing her thing, I don’t want to meddle. I’m more concerned that she might spend the entirety of our treasury on giant robots.”

Magnus let out a deep hum and said nothing.

“I’ll treat her well,” John assured.

“I know you will. That’s why I’ll let it happen in the first place,” Magnus told him. “My parents and I are conservatives. Speaking just for myself, I don’t like a lot of things about your lifestyle. That Lee will be part of it is… disappointing.”

“It’ll be her choice though.”

“It will be her choice though.” Magnus nodded. “As I said earlier, socially, I don’t like it, but if that’s what she wants to do, that’s on her. With you, it won’t be a mistake. That’s the solace I take in this.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment,” John said.

“Fuck you,” Magnus shot back, trying his best to laugh and be angry at the same time. “You’re trying to bang my sister.”

‘Factually, she is trying to bang me,’ the Gamer thought, but tried to keep that to himself.

“You two are aware that Lee is at the party though?” Maximillian asked. “A party that Rave is at.”

“And?” Magnus asked.

“Dude,” Maximillian stared blankly at the Fateweaver and waited for the realization to settle in. It didn’t happen, so he explained slowly, “Your sister, who is enough of a perv to want this guy,” he gestured at John, who did a sarcastic little wave, “with his harem, is hanging out with that harem. At a party, with booze, that usually ends with lesbian orgies. Take the wildest guess what is happening right now.”

“…Right.” Magnus didn’t say out loud what they were all thinking. Likely because he, as the older brother, still found all of this pretty awkward. John could only speculate on the reasons though. “Let’s keep going,” the Fateweaver said. “I want to see my girlfriend and sleep.”

“I can get behind the sleep part,” Maximillian agreed. He was the last one to his feet, getting pulled up by John.

The three walked to Magnus’ house first, dropping the guy off there, and the remaining two made their way to the closest teleporter. They arrived on top of the Palace and stepped off. Neither of them was in the mood to even suggest checking on the girl’s party.

“Pretty long evening,” Maximillian just said while they took the elevator down.

“Yep,” John agreed.

Even though it was an extra mile, he walked Maximillian back to his temporary home at the Embassy. Still tipsy, he walked back home. The girls were still not back. They must have had more energy or they had a more eventful evening than he did. Either way, he was alone. After taking care of the usual evening rituals, brushing his teeth and taking out his lenses, he made his way to his bed.

He fell asleep on his own.


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