<<< Previous Chapter:
~o0o~ Chapter ~o0o~
Quaraun fell silent once again, as Unicorn and ZooLock went back to arguing the differences between Elder Gods and Mother Gods. Quaraun dozed off in his throne and woke up sometime later. Unicorn and ZooLock were still locked in their heated debate, now arguing the pros and cons of various types of brains to serve to various types of demon servants of various types of Elder Gods.
You," Quaraun said quietly, recognizing the girl from the tavern. The one he had yelled at and zapped with his electric charged wand.
"I don't want to talk to you," the girl whimpered. "You're mean."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was having a bad day. I injured my leg. I only came to your village looking for a place to rest. I was trying to drink away the pain when you interrupted me in the tavern. I was hurting and drunk and I shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Are you feeling better now?" The girl asked.
"No. I should be in bed. My leg is killing me. I'm tired. I'm weak. I'm in pain. And this bastard won't give me a moment's peace because your village is plagued with murders, which he seems to think I can solve."
"I don't know. I'm just an Elf. I'm sick. I'm hurt. I'm weak. I'm tired. I just want to lay down and rest. I can't think straight right now, I'm in so much pain."
"You can lay on my bed."
Quaraun said nothing.
"I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you shouldn't have. Why does every female I meet try get me in bed with her?"
"You looked in a mirror latly?"
"I own more mirror's them you're ever gonna see in your lifetime."
"Are you mad at me?"
"You called me a Gypsy."
"Was that wrong?"
"What do you consider a Gypsy to be?"
"Travellers from the East who lived in Eygpt."
"Are you a Gypsy, I thought..."
"I am," Quaraun interupted her. "I lived in the desert of the DiJinn most of my life. I'm an Elf by blood, by race. My people are not related to Gypsies by blood. But I was raised with them. My father sent me away to live with the DiJinn when I was 9 years old. And I lived with them for 35 years. I came to identify the Gypsies and the DiJinn as my family. It is their culture, their traditions, their magic that you see me practice. I dress as they do. I act as they do. You were right to identify me as Gypsy. Gwallmaiic here, my Unicorn, he is a Gypsy by blood. He is my partner and my lover. We are soul bound."
“Ya could order shrimp,” Unicorn said.
“I don't eat shrimp,” Quaraun complained.
“I is ordering shrimp,” Unicorn said.
“Heaven's no! It would be cannibalism!” ZooLock gasped.
“Yeah, I is no fish like ya two be. I wants shrimp.”
“I'm not a fish,” Quaraun stated.
“Oh, I sorry. I thought JellyFish were fish seeing how they gots fish in the name.”
“I'm not a fish either,” ZooLock proclaimed while waving several tentacles in the air.
“Then what is ya?”
“I am a mollusc.”
“What the difference?”
“We are intelligent.”
“Ah! Then ya will nae mind me eating the shrimp.”
“What are you ordering,” the server asked, still waiting for an answer.
“I having shrimp,” Unicorn answered. “They is being pussies.”
“Unicorn,” Quaraun growled.
“I not doing nothing.”
“You're trying to start a fight.”
"I am tired."
"Arrrgh! arrgh! Arrgh! Oh god! Fuck me! Damn! Faster! Faster! Oh fucking stick a cock!"
Unicorn jumped up and ran screaming around the room.
"Why are Faeries like this?"
"Being undead would be fine if people would just stop pointing and screaming every time they saw me," Unicorn said. "Besides, ya're imagining half this."
"Am I?" Quaraun opened his eyes and stared up at the sky.
A woman ran from the kitchen followed by a billow of smoke from the burning popcorn in the microwave.
"FIRE!" she screamed. "Fire in the microwave!"
"Microwave?" Unicorn asked. "What is microwave."
Harrier interupted the boy.
"Microwave," Sunta said, drifting off into a daze.
"Uhm...Sunta," Harrier leaned forward, and tried to get the boy's attention. "This is happening in a tavern in the 1400s."
"Microwaves have not been invented yet."
"So, we're going with a microwave?"
Harrier, sat up and looked around the room. There was a microwave sitting on the counter. A nurse was popping popcorn in it.
Harrier sighed. Talking to Sunta was difficult. His mind rarely stayed on focus. The fact that Sunta spoke in a long dead language and had injuries that make speaking difficult, didn't help.
"Microwave," Harrier muttered as he wrote something in his notes.
Sunta was increadibly unreliable when it came to relating a story. He seemed less reliable today then usual.
"Problem?" Gremlin asked the psychiatrist.
"Maybe," Harrier answered. "He seems to think there was a microwave in the tavern."
Gremlin looked at the microwave on the nurse's counter.
"Hmmm. Maybe there was."
"In the 1400s."
"Did you take a microwave back in time and change history?"
"I need to fix inconsistencies in the past to correct the future," the old half-Demon said. "So changing microwave oven, and popcorn to... ??? Would the women have been stupid enough to try to cook their shrimp dinners in the oven instead of boiling them in a pot?"