Qayshaun Bedgood
"This bed could really use some god damn cushion. That shit feels like I'm lying on the floor."
After a somewhat warm bath last night, I took my ass straight to bed. It was nice of Claire to give us a place to stay, but I suppose you could say that it is a benefit of doing business. It's crazy to think that just two days ago, I was lying on my ass in my apartment playing video games, and now I'm in another world. I don't know how this shit happened, but I'm not going to complain about it.
If yesterday is an indicator of our future here, then I suppose I won't dwell on trying to figure out convoluted reasons. Mark mentioned that we were transferred here, but if we ever find the source of that mechanism, then I might even thank them. Now is the time to truly live my life with some vigor and excitement.
None of that nine-to-five shit for me anymore. I wanna learn about some magic and beat some ass along the way. Then again, getting out of this wack ass bed is the first step to that. The room that was assigned to me was practically empty.
There was this shitty bed, alongside a desk against the wall. It was a bit drafty here since I left the window slightly cracked last night, but that's about it. There was not even a creak on the floor when I got out of bed and went over towards the closet.
I found it peculiar that Claire's butler was able to recall the exact size of my clothing just by looking at me, but I won't argue that it isn't convenient. I will say that the clothes that he did get were arguably bland in taste. I didn't expect much, but they were just duplicate copies of the same article of clothing from before. The only exception was the dark red sleepwear I was currently wearing.
"This shit is like a Saturday morning cartoon. Got me wearing the same design of clothes every day."
I was beyond disappointed when I saw those clothes, but there wasn't much for me to complain about. I just changed into them and left my previous attire on the floor in the closet. There wasn't much here, but hell, time will change that. There were several events that occurred yesterday, and I'm willing to bet that the other two want to discuss our next course of action. We have the matter of that duel, as well as how we are going to approach helping Claire, as we said.
After I finished fastening the belt on my brown boots, I stepped towards the doorway. My next location was downstairs. Knowing the other two, they would be somewhere near the den area from last night. No doubt, Mark had been questioning Claire to the point that she had grown tired of his presence.
"Yo-Yo. Mornin' folks."
My words boomed into the room, and as I anticipated, the two of them were there. Although I shouldn't be, I was surprised to see both Horace and Claire in the area as well. The older man seemed to be standing over her shoulder, serving her food atop a metal platter.
"Look who finally decided to show up," Mark says in a snarky manner.
That lanky bastard was sitting on the couch on the other side of Claire. His glasses sloped down his nose while he held what seemed like a book in his hand.
"You slept well, Mr.Q?" Claire says, her face oozing with the elegance she had maintained.
"I slept aight. Once we get paid, I'm definitely getting myself a new bed. I'm guessin' that it'll cost an arm and a leg for it, but better that than sacrificing my back," I proclaimed.
Mark snickered at my statement, but I would argue that what he looked like in that moment was more humorous. Sitting there on the couch, Marktavious looked like a black Ichabod Crane. His lanky frame sprawled out with the book that he was reading open in his hand. He reminded me of an English teacher waiting for the class to be silent so that he could continue reading his book out loud. Much like me, Mark was wearing the same set of clothing he had worn the night before.
"You sound like an ingrate, bud. Toughen up your back."
Out of the shadows was the booming voice of Bishop. I think being hit by a truck would have less impact compared to how his voice hits you when you aren't expecting it. The elven male followed our trend in clothing. Although there was a notable difference with him. His braids lay loose and untied. He was now leaning against a table that wasn't there last night.
"So what's goin' on in here? Bible studies?" I ask, ignoring the venom spewed by the serpent elf.
"Bible?" Claire asks in a confused manner.
"Close, bud," Mark says, ignoring the brewing confusion of our patron. "This here is the Holy Scriptures of Cyto. It is like Mein Kampf for Fox beastkin and Kitsunes. Very rich and riveting rhetoric…if you are a bigoted and prejudiced asshole that is. That or you're very impressionable."
I blinked in confusion, but I guess I could understand what he was talking about.
"It's the book that Hitler wrote," Mark elaborated while flipping a page in the book.
Sensing that I didn't understand his reference, Mark provided the key information I needed to grasp it. If that book was comparable to the words of Adolf Hitler, then I can't understand why he's taking the time to continue reading it. My curiosity had gotten the better of me, so I had no choice but to ask.
"Where'd you even get that book, and why read it?"
Mark would look up from his page, his furry ears flickering from side to side. It was then that Claire had finished whatever she was eating and began wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.
"Last night, he asked me to have Horace retrieve it for him. I, too, was curious about why he would willingly read such a hateful book, but he was insistent on reading it. Even Horace warned him of its content," she says, placing the handkerchief onto the tray in Horace's hand.
Upon being mentioned, the older man would step away from her side. Much like his mistress, Horace seemed oddly dignified. His gaze landed on Mark before he shifted his body to address me,
"I was actually quite surprised. As you may know, not many fox beastkin are capable of reading in this domain. The Church goes out of its way to prevent that, but Sir Mark is capable of doing so and analyzing the information. Some of the things that he's shared with us are…"
"One may consider them blasphemous in this world, Bud," Bishop says sharply. "They'll hang his ass if he said it in public."
Blasphemous? I wonder what Mark could have said to have them talk like that. I have known Mark for a long time, so I am guessing that he has been very critical of the material he is currently reading. Since it is a religious text, Mark must've been looking for faults within the system. Horace would take that opportunity to exit the room through another doorway.
"Man, fuck that church! The person who wrote this nonsense must've thought that they were God in the Old Testament. It's talking about burning and drowning the…"thieving foxkins." Catch this line, "If a foxkin raises its hand against its superior race, then its tail shall be removed. The sins of the Kitsune are absolute and will pollute their decrepit souls." Let them try to hang me for saying this hogwash lacks any backbone. These scriptures, if you can even call them that, are nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic!"
I was thrown completely off guard when he began reciting the book. Just from that tidbit alone, I could tell that he wasn't exaggerating. I could hear a hint of frustration lingering in his tone. I didn't anticipate that reading that book would cause such hostility from him. If he had been talking like that this whole time, then I can see how it surprised Horace. Claire, too, seemed wide-eyed at the harsh criticism from the Kitsune.
Although it is warranted, spewing such venom in that way about the religion in this world would likely get Mark in trouble. Much like our previous world, people likely don't take the dissection of their religion as a joke. My eyes met with Claire's, and before I knew it, the woman stood on her feet. This is the reason I am here.
"Alright then. What are you gentlemen and gentle lady going to do today? I suggest that we start getting prepared for that duel," I propose.
"Hmm- Not today. Since Horace brought me this book, I'll have to finish reading it. Not only that, but I also read the history books that he retrieved for me, and then cross-checked the events with the Scriptures of Cyto. That way, I could gain a sense of what the people in this world are like, so that I won't be caught off guard in the future. It's going to take me a minute to do all of that," Mark says while flipping another page. "Knowledge is power, as they say, so you two will have to practice while I do that."
"I'll have to pass on that as well, bud. Horace will be taking me around the city. I will be conducting some scouting on our opponents to determine the type of individuals they will be bringing. Maybe there is a place nearby for you to train during the day," Bishop said.
Of course, the two of them would find some reason to get out of training. A huff escaped my lips as I waved through the air dismissively. Although knowledge is power, it is also pointless if you can't utilize that power in the form of your skills.
"Ah- Fine. You two can do whatever you like, but don't forget that we need to practice our coordination. If we can't properly use our skills in two weeks' time, then we'll get our ass scattered," I say while pointing to them.
"If I am able, then I would like to make a suggestion. Perhaps you and I could go to the Adventurer's Guild today."
That suggestion came from Claire. The woman had met Horace at the door. She seemed to be helping him bring in three trays of food. Her destination brought her right to me, and she offered me the plate on the tray.
"Although I do not believe that the Blois are behind the attack, Mordred has been keeping an iron grip on my family's wealth. He likely still doesn't trust me fully despite helping me out. As such, we will need to take on a job or two to generate some extra income. Since Bonner has decided to continue the investigation with Horace, and Mark wants to spend some time reading, that leaves only us to. You don't seem like the type of man to sit around and not take action, so you will be the perfect person to assist me on a quest or two in the meantime."
I wasn't going to argue with her reasoning, nor was I going to reject her offer of food. I received only the plate from the tray, which actually caught her off guard. A clash could be heard when the metal tray met the floor. The jolting sound was enough to bring the attention of the other two onto us.
"You careless now, bud?" Bonner remarked in a snarky tone.
"I think so. Either that or he's forgotten how to hold items with his gorilla-like strength," Mark adds.
"Aight, bud. You gotta say he's gorilla-like because he's black?"
"Those long, pointy ass ears got ya hearin' shit I ain't say."
It was a miscommunication between Claire and me, but it was nothing too serious. Bishop took this opportunity to make fun of Mark for his subtle insinuations. It was one of Mark's own tactics turned against him. Claire wasn't from our world, so it wasn't surprising to see her face warped with confusion. The woman crouched down and retrieved the tray before I could.
I would notice the woman heading towards the room that Horace had returned to after he delivered Bishop and Mark's food.
"Nah- I see why you are reading that book now, Mark. Tryna get inspiration on ways to weaponize words against your own kind," I added in, pouncing on the already defensive man.
Mark would spring to his feet and, in one motion, close the book in his hand. The man pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped away from the couch. His tail swished from side to side behind him while he flashed his cocky smile.
"Ya'll just haters. Hatin' just because ya'll love to hate. Hatin' on a brother, because he got a tail, and sexy, furry ears. His knowledge transcends the very nature of this world. Ya'll just hatin' cause I'm the only one cursed with knowledge. Don't worry, peasant and silver-back, I'll say this clearly enough for the pointy ears and normal ears to hear clearly. Um-..."
"Look at him. Cat got his tongue. He can't even think of something to make up," I chimed. My chuckle escaped, infecting Bishop as well.
"That's not true in the slightest. I am reading this book to obtain the one thing more important than a Lamborghini. Knowledge," As he spoke, Mark opened the book with the same hand it was in. I can't tell if he was on the correct page or if he was winging it, but he finished before I could question it. He would make his way towards the exit behind us while he spoke.
"That way in the future I could use my victim card to its fullest effect. I could justify just about anything, and this book is going to be the Church's greatest strength as well as the beacon of its decline. What greater way to prove myself than upsetting this world's status quo? Just like we did in Infinity Unleashed."
"Mark, you sound like a madman. This isn't a game. You can't upset anything here when they don't even think of you as an equal. You think of you as less than dirt," Bishop scoffs.
"Even dirt is dangerous in the correct scenario, Mr. Bonner. You should know that at least," Mark retorts in a mocking tone.
Bishop laughed in disbelief at Mark's words. He wasn't buying what Mark was selling, but he didn't offer to elaborate.
"Here's my proposal for a plan for this next week," the dark skinned Kitsune says.
"We're all ears, but let's get things started. After I eat my breakfast, I will get started right away. Standing around doesn't suit me in the slightest," I say to the man.
While I would find some enjoyment in seeing these two verbally spar, I think going to the Adventurer Guild, Claire mentioned, would be more interesting.
"In these next three days, I will be sequestering myself in my room in order to gather information about our new world. Leave the tedious tasks to me. An author must know their setting if they are going to craft a fantastic narrative. Bonner could be entrusted with our investigation into what happened to Claire and her mother. I recommend that you watch yourself, bud. Apparently, spies are out and about. Keep your nose under the radar as best you can. Horace will likely assist you with that," Mark instructs.
He would lean against the frame of the door for the moment as his eyes shifted from Bishop to me.
"Q, you will go to the Guild with Claire. She says that she needs strength. You are the strongest here, so aid her on those quests. Knowing you, you're going to do that anyway. Socialize as well, but be careful. You face the same issue of spies as Mr. Bonner. I wouldn't be surprised if Mordred has connections with the Guildmaster. Learning more about how our abilities work will be entrusted to you. At the end of the week, then we'll pool our information together."
"That sounds like a doable plan. I'll master my strength in no time, then we'll move on to finding other ways to level up ourselves," I responded.
As expected from Mark. He came up with a plan, and I got the most interesting part of it. He and Bonner can do all of the complicated and boring parts. All I need to do is figure out how our muscles truly flex, and there's no better way than trial and error.
Bishop would voice a grunt of confirmation, showcasing his acceptance of Mark's proposal as well. I assume he expected this result since right after, he would disappear out of the room. I had just looked away for a moment, and the man disappeared like he was Batman.
"Well, Bishop- I guess..." When I turned to face the man I referenced, I found nothing more than an empty plate at the table that he was standing at.
"Bastards," I scoff.
I would turn around in hopes of finding the path that he could have taken, but ultimately I gave up. I was the only one in the room at the moment. Since that was the case, I had full claim to the couch, so I took full advantage of it. A nice seat and a plate to eat, today is setting up to be a good one.
Looking at the plate in my hand, I would recognize something akin to porridge, and it was paired with a side of bacon. Not my ideal breakfast, but I won't complain. It at least contained some flavor. I simply started eating with the utensils that I was provided. Speaking of which, the voice of Claire soon greeted me as the woman returned to the room.
Her clothing had changed. I would say that she was wearing a more colorful variant of the attire we were wearing. I would be correct to guess that what she had on was her battle armor. Instead of the dark green on our attire, Claire's clothing was blue at the top and matched with khaki pants.
Her collar was extended to the back of her head, working as a filter for her long, blonde hair. Her boots were black rather than brown like ours, and she had a crimson ascot draped around her neck. The most noticeable aspect was the sword on her waist. It was sheathed, but the handle at least looked fancy.
"The other two decided to head out?" she asked me.
"Yeah. We came up with a plan before those two bastards headed out. That getup looks good, by the way. Is it your work clothes?" I asked her.
Claire would nod at my words. The woman unsheathed her sword in order to properly display it. It was a short sword with a sleek, silver edge barely as long as her forearm.
"It is. This sword was a gift from my mother, and these clothes are similar to those that she wore when she was an adventurer. Until I reunite with her, I wear these two in order to honor her," She responds.
The blade would return to its sheath, and the green ripples indicated her magic radiated around her body. Her appearance was once again warped by the change.
"How admirable of you," I remark, resting my hands on my waist. "How about you and I go to that Guild that you recommended. Fortunately for you, you are in the presence of the most competent member of our trio when it comes to fisticuffs."
A smack could be heard when I suddenly punched the exposed palm of my hand. A confident grin marked my face. With Claire's transformation completed, the woman would return the expression.
"Very well. I will rely on your strength today."