Drinking Games

Comet Evergreen was winning.

It was, frankly, embarrassing how easy it was to win against local humans. They were emotionally starved creatures who practically threw themselves onto the Naughty List, exposing their wishes and connections the moment you waved a bottle of glowing alcohol and a pair of slender legs in their direction.

“Tell me more about the… aperture,” Comet purred, trailing a candy-cane-painted claw down the front of Copernicus’s flannel shirt. She leaned in, letting the scent of warm cookies and Charmchain radiance wash over the sweating astrophysicist. “Does it see… naughty things in the dark?”

“It… Uhm, gathers photons,” Sergey stammered. He slumped against the booth’s vinyl upholstery, entirely pinned by Comet’s festive bulk. “It resolves… nebulae. Star clusters. The… Uhm, the wonders of the cosmos.”

“How wonderrrrful,” Comet whispered, nipping at his ear. “Does it see where your Emperor lives?”

“He doesn’t… live in space,” Sergey squeaked. “At least I don’t think that he does? Honestly, I’ve no idea where he lives. The War-gunner wiki isn’t very clear about his current citadel location as it’s not the 50th millennium yet.”

Comet refilled his shot glass with the Ambrosia-vodka blend. “Drink up, star-gazer. The Saint loves a well-hydrated boy.”

Sergey drank. He was an easy target. All of the locals lacked levels. This planet was full of weakling humans far too easy to bend. The more time she spent with these simple human rebels, the more Ambrosia they drank from the bottomless bottle, the more information the List Ledger artifact gathered about them and their naughty allies and leaders.

With the eight reindeer probing humans across the planet, the Ledger would assuredly manifest the full address of their high lord’s castle on one of its endless pages. Once this step was achieved, the Sleigh could make a jump there via Dasher’s gate and seed absolute, inescapable festivus into its magic heart, overwrite all of its magitek defenses, infect all its defenders. The more magical the castle, the faster it would fall to the dungeon bloom.

The Frotenachii legionnaires were weak too, pacified utterly by the destruction of their capital ship. Saint Nikky would deal with their current leaders and then they all would perish or flee this doomed world in their ships.

Comet glanced across the table. The leopard prad Scrutimancer [Sevviya] was currently half-draped over Oppenheimer, purring loudly while the human fed her pretzels. The badger prad [Uarri] was snoring face-down in a pile of peanut shells.

Easy game, the Herald thought, suppressing a yawn. Weak, stupid, generic, lowly NPCs. Where is the challenge? How did the Human Emperor even take over a Frontenachii warship? He must be hoarding all of the high magitek in his castle. That will be his undoing, the source of his downfall.

She turned her attention back to Sergey. He was cute, in an easily breakable sort of way.

His current shell would bloom soon enough. Soon, his soul would be freed from his narrative-imprisoned body, and become reborn inside the Workshop. Then he would understand it all, thank her for freeing him from his misery.

“You know, Copernicus.” Comet rested her chin on his shoulder, continually feeding the artifact more Astral connections. “I have a big sack of magic toys. It is full of surprises. If you can make some educated guesses about the location of your Emperor… I might let you peek inside.”

“I keep telling you.” Sergey shamelessly eyed her cleavage. “Nobody knows where the Emperor is. Not even the internet!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Comet said. “I get it, you don’t know where he is.” She felt the Ledger pulsing in her pocket with warmth. It was ready, fully linked itself to the humans. “Why don’t we make it a festive drinking game of it?”

“A game?” her warm human-seat asked. “What are the rules and prizes?”

“Tiered rewards for my nerdy star-gazer,” Comet beamed. “Tier One: I let you bury your face in this jolly sweater for a full minute. Tier Two: A soft kiss on the cheek. Tier Three: A kiss on the lips. Tier Four: You can pet me anywhere you like. And so on…”

“And for a final tier you’ll take him for a ride in your Sleigh?” Oppenheimer laughed. “To join the Mile High Club among the stars?”

“Yes,” Comet said, making her seat shudder in approval.

“And what about the rest of us?” Oppenheimer asked. “Can we play this game too? What’s our incentive?”

“Ah! Presents from the Sleigh,” Comet reached deep into the extradimensional pocket of her sweater and began pulling out a variety of items wrapped in green and gold paper and red bows.

“What are the presents exactly?” Her seat asked.

“Magic items,” Comet explained. “You may claim and unwrap each IF your guess is goodly. I’ll explain what each does once you open your gift.”

“Sounds fun!” DorkVader said. “And what exactly makes a guess… goodly?”

“The Ledger will judge your guess as warm or cold,” Comet placed the red book onto the table and let it guide her fingers to a page with “The Emperor of Earth” line on it written in festive, slanted script. “If your guess is warm you may procure a reward. If it’s cold, you must drink Ambrosia! We’ll start with the Stargazer and move right in a circle!”

“Go on, Copernicus,” Comet purred, “where does the Emperor of Earth hide?”

“The… the Moon?” Sergey guessed. “The dark side of the moon?”

“The Moon” An invisible hand wrote in the ledger. The word shimmered and then turned red, fading away.

“Nope,” Comet stated, bringing a shot glass to the human’s lips. “Cold. Drink up.”

“Why would he nuke his own backyard, dude?” Oppenheimer laughed.

“Next!” Comet chirped, turning her gaze to Dave. “Darwin! Can you guess where the Emperor lives?”

“Uhhh.” He scratched his chin. “The Earth?”

The word “The Earth” appeared on the page and flashed green and then turned black, remaining on the paper.

“A goodly general answer,” Comet threw a festive package at Darwin. The human unwrapped it, revealing a red and black scarf.

“A scarf?” He examined the fabric.

“The Scarf of the Hearth,” Comet stated. “Knitted by a talented Spindlemancer elf of Saint Nikky’s Workshop. It never gets cold, never frays, never rips, and makes you look dashingly heroic!”

“Cool beans,” Darwin wrapped the festive scarf around his neck. He glanced at the empty seat. “Sarah’s missing out on the present dispensary.”

“Prolly throwing up in the bathroom,” Oppenheimer commented. “She’s a lightweight.”

“It’s been like thirty minutes,” Darwin pointed out. “I should text to see if she’s okay.”

The scarfed human pulled out his phone, tapping on it. “Got a message! She went out for some fresh air, got a headache. Says she’ll be back after she grabs an Advil from the 713 shop nearby.”

“My turn to win magic presents! A castle!” DorkVader shouted. “Bet he lives in a castle!”

“Castle” the Ledger wrote. The word flashed red and vanished.

“Nope,” Comet said. “Not a castle.”

“Boo,” Tom took a shot of Ambrosia.

“I bet he’s in a bunker,” the Scrutimancer slurred from Oppenheimer’s shoulder. She pointed a wobbly claw down. “Deep underground. Hardened. Shielded. That’s what I would do. Someplace with thick walls and barrier shields to block the Astral signal. Eight-eight-one gals found the vamps deep underground in Cascade.”

A black word “Bunker” appeared on the page. It didn’t flash any colors, fading away.

“Eh? Where’s mah colour?” the leopard demanded.

“Sorry, kitty,” Comet smiled jovially. “The Ledger only works for the locals. You don’t live here and have no narrative connection to the Emperor, so it can’t judge your guesses.”

“Laaaame,” the prad huffed.

“Alas, you aren’t part of the Emperor’s story yet.” Comet poured a generous shot of Ambrosia and slid it toward the leopard. “That was a very lovely tactical assessment though. Here. A participation prize for the lovely hunter!”

Sevviya looked at the drink, then at Comet and downed the alcohol and burped loudly. The Maned Wolf expectantly looked at Oppenheimer.

“This is an easy game. Statistically, general guesses are pretty much a guaranteed winner,” the human said. “The Emperor lives… next to a forest.”

“Next to a forest,” the Ledger wrote. The words flashed green and remained on the page.

“Aw yuss!” Steve grabbed a present from the pile and unwrapped it, revealing a pair of red gloves.

“Mittens of the Yeti. Excellent grip. Perfect for making snowballs or… grappling with difficult truths,” Comet revealed.

“Too bad it’s summer, eh,” Oppenheimer elbowed the leopard.

“It’s winter in Antarctica,” Sevviya commented, sniffing the gloves in his hands. “We could fly there on a glider… once things settle down a bit and Watty gives me a vacay day. Hrmmm. These are definitely magical. I’m not sure if they’d work that well on you, considering that you’ve no magic heart core though. No curses either.”

“Curses?” Comet arched an eyebrow. “Our charity dispenses quality magic gifts, no tricks there!”

“Still don’t trust your festive face,” the leopard huffed. “You’re too jolly. Nobody’s this jolly.”

“Being jolly isn’t a crime, kitten,” Comet rolled her eyes. “I believe it’s your turn, Seer.” She slid her claws along Sergey’s chest.

“Urmmm,” Sergey contemplated. “The Emperor… lives in… the North hemisphere.”

“The North Hemisphere,” the Ledger wrote in elegant, sweeping script. The text flashed a vibrant, minty green and burned black into the page.

“Ding, ding, ding!” Comet squealed, bouncing on Sergey’s lap. “A winner is you! We have narrowed it down to fifty percent of the planet! Such a smart boy. Such big… cartography skills.”

She grabbed the collar of his flannel shirt. The Herald’s hazel eyes danced with emerald spirals. The human looked like a deer in headlights, yummy prey waiting to be consumed, or in this case, rewarded.

“You know what that means, Copernicus,” she lowered her voice to a sultry, vibrating growl. “Tier One reward unlocked.”

The human comically opened his mouth. She buried him deep in the red wool of her sweater, pressing him tight against her chest. Comet held him there, feeling his muffled, half-hearted protests against her cleavage. The Seer deserved something nice before his death.

“One minute of chest time,” she commented and glanced across the table.

“Lucky punk,” Oppenheimer muttered.

“I could suffocate you too if you want,” Sevviya commented. “But I’d use my armpit.”

“Challenge accepted,” the human laughed.

“Oh yea? Receive it then!” The Scrut’s eyes flashed and then she climbed onto his lap. The arms of her hexasuit rapidly folded away and she shoved his face into her exposed armpit.

The human designated as [Steve] by the Ledger didn’t look discouraged in the slightest. A wet, enthusiastic slurp echoed from the confines of the leopard’s underarm.

Sevviya stiffened, ears swiveling back. Then, she let out a half-gasp, half-shriek.

“Heh! Hehehe! Gah! Stop! That tickles!” She squirmed, trying to push the human’s head away. Her claws were retracted, so she wouldn’t shred his face, effectively achieving only softly pawing and kneading his hair. “Stooooop! Slayer! You wet, raspy-tongued ape! Why?!”

The Frontenachii Scrut dissolved into a fit of giggles as the human assaulted her other armpit with his fingers. “Nooooo! Eeeeeeekkk!”

Comet maintained her false, beaming smile, internally cringing and contemplating the merits of taking the noisy, annoying leopard Scrut to the back of the building to turn her into a pine tree.

Drunk human males were… handsy. And the fact that the Frontenachii prads were openly enjoying this sort of submissive debasement? A stain on the predator species!

She looked down at the small human whose face was currently buried in her sweater. Sergey had stopped struggling. He was quietly breathing in her scent, looking properly submissive and malleable as wet clay.

“Time’s up, Star-gazer,” Comet peeled the astrophysicist off her chest.

Sergey emerged looking dazed, glasses crooked, face flushed a deep, healthy crimson. He blinked, pupils blown wide.

She blessed the cute boy toy with a soft smile and turned back to the human tagged as Dave. “Your turn. Give me a location. A geography. Where does your leader lay his head?”

Darwin scratched his chin, looking at the words on the page: Earth. Northern Hemisphere. Near a Forest.

“If he likes forests… and he’s paranoid… I’d say he likes high ground,” he mused. “Defensible terrain. Near the mountains!”

Comet’s eyes flashed to the Ledger.

“Near the mountains,” the invisible hand scribbled.

The text flared a brilliant, pine-needle green.

“Mountains!” Comet cheered, throwing her arms up. The bells on her wrists jingled merrily. “Another winner! You boys are on fire tonight! Take your See-Mass gift!”

Darwin dug into the pile of presents and pulled out a box and unwrapped it. “Is that a fruitcake?” He asked.

“Yep,” Comet evaluated the gift with Astral sight at a glance. “The Ever-Chewy Fruitcake. One bite a day restores stamina. Two bites bless you with your happiest childhood memory. Three make you smell colors. Four expand Astral sight. Five grant you the sweetest dreams of See-Mass.”

“Is that safe?” Dave asked, sniffing the colorful brick of dried fruit. “What if I eat the whole thing?”

“Sugar coma,” Comet chortled. “Probably.”

“Probably?” Dave raised an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t recommend experimenting with it.” She shrugged. “Keep it down to five bites or less.”

“Okkay,” the human agreed.

Comet giddily looked at the Ledger.

Northern Hemisphere. Forest. Near the Mountains. That narrowed it down significantly, but it was still a large haystack. She needed a needle.

“You,” she pointed a candy-cane claw at the human wearing dark sunglasses. “DorkVader. Name a direction!”

“Uhhhh.” Tom adjusted his sunglasses, leaning back. “Mmmmm.. Let me think. North of here?”

The word North flashed red on the page and faded away.

“Booo,” Tom complained. He grabbed and drowned a shot.

“Staphhh, I surrender,” the Scrutimancer mewled. She weakly batted Steve away, panting and wiggling.

“No surrendery! West!” Steve declared from underneath the flailing leopard.

The word “West” flashed green. The leopard finally escaped the human, slumping onto the couch beside him, tongue out.

“Aww yeah.” Steve grabbed and tore another present open, revealing a nutcracker toy. “Does it bite through steel or something?” He asked.

“No,” Comet said, eyeing the present. “It’s a pocket protector golem. You declare the name of the target and it bites the target ceaselessly, allowing you to get away. Also, it can be set to protect a pocket from pickpocketers with the phrase ‘stop thief’.”

“Neat,” Steve grinned. He shoved the nutcracker soldier into his pocket.

“Your turn, Copernicus,” Comet whispered. “Where does the Naughty Emperor hide?”

Sergey swallowed. “He… Probably likes isolation,” he said.

“Isolation isn’t a location particularity,” Comet stated, ears perking up. “Guess more than that.”

“Uhhh…” Sergey considered the answer. “Somewhere… woodsy. Probably, an old mansion in the forest, near the ocean?”

“Old, isolated mansion near the ocean,” the Ledger wrote, the words shining bright emerald.

Yes, yes yes. Comet celebrated internally. I’m almost there! So close!She pictured the Emperor’s secret base in her mind, imagined herself looking at a fortified, human mansion from the beach as it bloomed and imploded from within with See-Mass trees. The downfall of the local Lord of Mankind and his Fox Archmage loomed in her future, was nearly within her grasp.

She leaned towards Sergey and kissed his cheek fiercely, hugging him tightly. “What a good boy you are! What a helpful sweet boy!”