Coye 4.21 (Patreon)

Chapter 21 - Girl’s Night Out

At the same time that Coye was having the best night of his life thus far, someone he knew all too well was having one of their worst.

There was a bar in Cransmere known as the Stone Cold Tavern. It was something of a local curiosity, a hole in the wall. Far from the best the town had to offer, the place had poor drinks, serviceable food, and a bartender who left many of its patrons scratching their heads. Exactly how long the tavern had been in business was anyone's guess. Some of the townsfolk would say a few hundred years, while others would say it's been here since before the woods were gnarled by Thalrad's gluttonous reign.

The reason this was Britni's favorite bar was simple. Dusty, the large, artificial construct who ran the place, was the only bartender in town who not only let Britni bring her titanic two-gallon drinking horn but promised she would never have to see its bottom if she didn't want to. This was her second night of drinking in a row, and she was on her fourth gallon of mead. It wasn't helping. Instead of distracting her from everything she didn't want to be thinking of, it morphed her brain into a magnifying glass of negativity.

She was sitting at the bar, currently alone, aside from the Golem. Dusty was behind the counter, polishing a glass in his oversized, blocky hands. This problematic customer tended to land between two extremes every time she got drunk, so he knew better than to strike up a conversation when Britni was on the worse side of her drunken spectrum. He was giving her a wide distance. Other bars would've tried and failed to kick Britni out over half the trouble she brought with her, but Dusty didn't mind. So long as she paid for her drinks and any damages, that was good enough for him.

Britni stared into her mead, gazing past her own reflection looking back at her on the surface of the golden beverage. Beneath the surface layer was someone else, she could see someone else who wasn't her. He was smiling the same empty-headed grin he wore so often whenever she watched him from afar. The smile deepened as her drunken imagination added another player to the stage. She saw that green bitch, the Goblin girl who smelled like farts and death. He was kissing her, just like he kissed her this morning.

Her hand grew shaky, and she clenched her teeth, static sparks crackling around her fist.

From across the tavern, Britni heard the sound of a man being slapped. The noise caught her attention, causing her to look up from her depressive state and idly look around for the source. It wasn't hard to find it. There was a large, drunken man accosting the table of young girls. The one nearest to him clutched their shirt tight, suggesting it had been ripped by his wandering hands. He stormed off towards his own table, a table filled with other men of his size and build while muttering curses at the girl and rubbing his reddened cheek.

Dusty's glowing yellow eyes stared at Britni as she deliberated whether or not this warranted her intervention. Things were looking pretty dicey there for a few moments, but eventually, she turned her head and drank more of her mead. He would've sighed with relief if only he had the mouth that gesture would require. Instead, it was Britni who did the sighing.

She kept looking into her horn, a conversation she had with Tammy earlier that day ringing in her ears. Britni cornered the receptionist during one of her many breaks- asking for any and all information about what Coye was up to while they were away. Tammy was on good terms with the Bitches. They provided her the entertainment she craved more than anyone else, making her willing to share these details just to watch the look on Britni's face. It turned out to be worth it. The tanned Viking went as white as snow when Tammy revealed Coye's other girlfriend was none other than that ridiculously hot older woman with the creepy vibes who ran the general store on Mainstreet.

Britni wished she could ask the All-Father one simple question in all of his gallows-gained wisdom. What did I ever do to deserve this? She felt a sob coming on, so she drowned it with more mead. It only lasted a mere second, but the thought of giving up on him crossed her drunken mind. That made her angrier than anything else, and it caused her to drink everything left in the horn in one extraordinary gulp.

Vikings didn't give up. Ever. Especially not one of the Leiptr-Vikings. Her people took what they wanted and made it theirs by way of axe and lightning. Things hadn't gone according to plan, but Coye's newfound loves weren't a dealbreaker. They were bumps in the road. He could keep them for all she cared. Valhalla knows the little guy is strong enough to deserve his own harem. They'd just have to figure it out after everything else snapped in place.

In the meantime, Britni needed to quiet her raging mind. She tossed her drinking horn to the Golem, who plucked it gently out of the air in a way that didn't seem possible for somebody with such a clunky-looking form. Then, she slammed her fist on the wooden countertop.

"Another!" She slurred.

"Of course," Dusty replied. His voice was smooth and quiet, sounding neither distinctly male nor female. Due to his bulky form that resembled a pile of bricks granted life, most patrons called the structure a 'he' out of convenience. For his part, Dusty never corrected anyone on his preferred pronouns if any he had.

He cracked open up a fresh barrel of mead for the young beauty to enjoy, wondering if tonight might be the night Britni finally broke her four barrel record. She'd gotten dreadfully close before but never quite managed to cross the threshold onto the mythical fifth barrel. Just as Dusty finished filling the drinking horn and handed it back to its owner, he saw trouble on its way.

The man who started trouble before was approaching the counter. He was a large man, Human, standing past six feet with broad shoulders and a thick, bristly beard of red. Over his rough spun tunic was a pair of dirty blue overalls, a large woodcutter's axe hanging from a holster on his black, leather tool belt. His cheek was still redder than his beard, and he nursed it by rubbing his hand over the injury.

"Stupid fucking slut..." he mumbled while leaning against the counter beside Britni.

"That seat is occupied," Dusty informed the lumberjack, gesturing towards a tankard of dark beer on the countertop.

He looked around and didn't see anyone other than Britni, who was refusing to give him the time of day. Shrugging, he took the beer and drank it in only a couple of gulps. "Mine now," he laughed a few times before punctuating his rudeness with a loud belch.

Then, the man finally became aware of Britni.

"Whoa there," he said, checking her out with all the subtlety of a prepubescent boy first discovering the sight of a woman's body. "What do we have here? Looks like tonight might be fun after all."

Tonight, Britni was dressed casually. A loose white tank top hung off her chest, covering a tight black, formfitting, sleeveless turtleneck. Her midriff was exposed, and just before the top of her short party skirt, one could make out the tied strings of her no doubt exotic undergarments. She was also wearing one of her best pairs of heels tonight, hoping that looking pretty would make her feel better. On top of all that, Britni was wearing layers of her favorite makeup as her blonde hair streamed freely behind her, unbound by the ponytail she typically wore.

If the man weren't already drunk, he would've seen her beauty before he'd even made it halfway to the counter. Unfortunately for the lumberjack, his liquid courage deluded him into thinking he had a chance with her.

Britni tore her attention from her drinking horn and sealed its contents off, placing it on the counter as she looked at her unwelcome company. A flirtatious smile spread its way across her face, giving the man a false sense of hope. "Funny. I was, like, totally just thinking the same thing..." she teased.

No one was certain whether or not Dusty experienced emotions in the same way that flesh and blood beans did. He did understand a veiled threat when he saw one, however. The Golem's professionalism bid him give the unknowing lumberjack a cursory warning, even though he didn't deserve it after the trouble he caused.

"Sir? If I may. Whatever it is you're after, you won't find it here. My humble suggestion would be to go home for tonight."

The man wasn't a regular. He'd placed an order with one of the Human waitresses and hadn't regarded the construct as anything other than a piece of the scenery until now. "Okay?" He laughed stupidly. "If I want a drink, I'll let you know, but I don't usually go around asking piles of rocks for feedback on my game plan. I know what I'm doing here, so fuck off."

"Very good, Sir," Dusty bowed and then subtly nodded at Britni before suddenly remembering the business he had to attend to back in the kitchens. She took this as permission to do as she wished, which it was.

"Can you believe that?" The lumberjack pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "If I wanted to hear some soulless bitch nagging at me, I'd be home with my wife!"

"Wow," Britni exclaimed with mock interest. "That's, like, soooo funny. You must get that a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am pretty funny!" He was blissfully unaware, a fly that had no idea it was buzzing straight toward a spider's net. "So, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" She tilted her head, playing at innocence. "Define 'a girl like me,' please. I'm not sure I follow!"

"What do I mean? Hah! Look at you! You've gotta be the hottest chick in Cransmere! They just don't make them like you around here. I'd wager a big fat sack of gold that you know how to have a good time, too."

Britni smiled. "More than you know."

"Yeah, I thought so! You're not just hot, you're-"

"Easy?" Another innocent tilt of her head, another teasing lilt in her voice.

The man laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Hey, hey! Don't go putting words in my mouth! All I'm saying is you wouldn't dress like that if you didn't want attention, right?"

"Right! That's, like, so true. I mean, it's not like I dress this way because I like feeling cute and attractive or anything. Nah. Everything I do, from the way I talk to the way I breathe, is to attract big, strong men like you!"

This unfortunate drunk still proved incapable of processing the sarcasm, even as it became less subtle and more pointed. Whether he was just that inebriated or naturally that stupid, the man took Britni's words at face value. From his point of view, he'd just stumbled across the Queen of Whores looking for her next King.

"Lucky you! Ain't no one bigger and stronger than me in this shitty town."

"Wow, really? What about all those adventurers in the Guild? They actually go inside the forest and kill monsters!"

This was a sore spot for the man, who only ever skirted the edge of the forest as part of a group with others in his profession. The trees grew back at an unnatural speed, making it so that the lumberjacks rarely had to venture deep. At the end of the day, they were regular men and women performing a job. If they were anything other more, they would've been adventurers, sellswords, or knights.

"Adventurers? Hah! They're all a bunch of chicken shits, nothing special. We kill monsters sometimes, too, y'know!" He bragged and rolled up the sleeves of his left arm, showing a nasty, purple bite scar that swallowed up most of his bicep. "One time, a Direwolf pup came out of the bush and jumped me! I got lucky, split its skull in half with a stroke of my axe before he knew what was coming!"

The way he told it made the event sound exaggerated. No doubt he'd practiced it; it might've even worked on some girls. As for Britni, she could've been ten barrels drunk and still picked up on how fake as fuck his story was.

Britni smiled, remembering how she'd killed an entire pack of Direwolves with a single bolt of her lightning only a few weeks ago. "Impressive," she said, holding back a bitchy laugh that would've broken the entire facade. "Very impressive."

"Aren't I?" Her last bit of false praise was enough to embolden the lumberjack into thinking he'd sealed the deal. He was smiling as he reached his hand towards Britni's shoulder. "You're something special, too. Not like the rest of the sluts in this place. I think we both got something the other wants, so why don't we ditch this place and-"

His hand jolted backward before it even got anywhere close. Every last inch of his body revolted against him. He was suddenly overcome with sheer, inexplicable terror as he stared into Britni's frozen eyes, looking for an answer. Only then did he see past their snowy surface and witness the utter contempt and disgust simmering beneath. His instincts didn't know exactly what she would've done, but he was confident at that moment that if he'd so much as touched Britni, he never would've had the use of his hand again. Likely worse.

Britni smiled even wider. Her game had begun in earnest- she was going to destroy this man.

"What's the matter? Are you scared all of a sudden?" She laughed. "That's not a very good look for a big guy like you, you know?"

He struggled to find his voice, asking only, "W-What... are you-" before Britni interrupted him.

"Me? Oh. I'm, like, nothing special. Just a chicken shit adventurer."

"I-I-I'm s-sorry," the man whimpered, closer to crying than he'd been since he was a babe. "This was a mistake. I didn't mean what I said about adventurers, I... I shouldn't be doing this. I have a wife! And kids!"

The slightest hint of annoyance showed through Britni's smile. She wasn't planning on killing him, but now she'd have to hold back more than she initially wanted. Unlike some of her fellow kinsmen, Britni wasn't in the business of ensuring the maximum possible number of orphans were left in her aftermath.

Taking Britni's momentary hesitation as a sign he might still get out of this, he raised his hands defensively and said, "Look, I just want to get out of here. I've had too much to drink, and I should really be-"

"No, stay for a while! I thought you wanted to have some fun? Here's an idea. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"W-What do you-" the man suddenly became aware that just himself, an axe was holstered to the girl's bright pink belt hanging loosely above her skirt.

"Are you as stupid as you look, or what?" She spoke with an edge to her voice, no longer caring about keeping up the ruse. "Show me that thing you call an axe."

He picked up that he didn't have a choice in the matter. He seemingly shrunk in size by several feet as his shivering hand removed the tool from his belt and raised it up for Britni's inspection. She wasn't impressed.

"Wow. Between this and all those muscles you got, it's, like, no wonder you thought you'd be able to charm my skirt off..." Britni scoffed. "Give it here." She extended her hand, and with the obedience of a trained dog, the axe was suddenly deposited into her possession.

She turned it around, inspecting the piece in greater detail. Forged with standard steel, its dark brown hilt was fashioned from cursed wood processed by the local mills. Maybe it was top-of-the-line for a lumberjack, but it was nothing special in Britni's eyes.

"You cut down trees with this toothpick?" She stared at the weapon with distaste. The axe was this man's pride and joy, and it must've cost him no small amount of gold.

"T-Toothpick...?!" The lumberjack was almost offended, outraged that a mere woman would demean his treasure. Then he smartly remembered his situation and hung his head. "I-I mean, yeah... it does its job, sure..."

Britni raised the weapon before her face and turned it to its broadside before flicking it a single time with her index finger's long and painted nail. With a shrill shriek, the weapon shattered into dozens of sharp shrapnel pieces, which exploded in just as many directions. Some shards flew past the counter, exploding bottle after bottle of liquor on the shelf. Others zipped past the lumberjack without incident. A single fragment was lucky enough to scrape its way across the man's cheek, ripping his flesh so hard that it sliced against his very bone and caused the man to fall to his feet in pain after letting out a guttural shout.

People from across the bar started to gasp. Some of them were regulars who knew Britni and the things she got up to when she was in one of her moods. Thus, they urged those not in the know to avoid making it their business. The group of lumberjacks he was sitting with didn't flinch at their coworker's suffering, but that didn't stop many other tables from staring in morbid curiosity. Especially not the group of girls that the man accosted.

"Not anymore, it doesn't," Britni laughed smugly. "But hey. Guess I've got to show you mine now, don't I?"

The subject of her torment was cradling his cheek to stop the blood flow, wishing he'd been lucky enough to leave his injuries that night at a mere slap. More than anything else, he was terrified of what would happen to him if he refused this violent party girl's whims.

"Y-Yes," he shuddered. "Please, I... I'd love to see it...!"

This pleased Britni, who then unfastened her axe and held it in front of her body. At a glance, it was smaller than the lumberjack's but far more impressive with its quality leather handle, and the many runes expertly etched into the metal. Then, she stood up from her barstool, tossed the Midgardian steel into the air, and caught it on the tip of her finger. Next came the fun part.

From within Britni's body, the latent power of Midgard's Thunder God exploded out of her arm. She'd gone out tonight without her runic gauntlets, making her lightning more challenging to control. Not a problem- Britni was anything but an amateur. She wrestled with the electrical current, wrapping it around her weapon until it was covered in a thick coat of crackling energy.

"You see this?" She pointed the magical weapon at him, its once dormant runes now glowing bright blue. "This is an axe!"

A few people let out a shriek, leaving the bar in fear. Gone were the lumberjack's friends. He was alone now, and he certainly felt it. As he crawled backward, the man was too afraid to break eye contact with Britni. He couldn't even speak above the sounds of his whimpering throat.

Britni waited for the exact moment to best capitalize on his fear and awe, and when his first bead of sweat fell to the floor, she sashayed toward him, axe weapon slung over her shoulder.

"Going somewhere? Oh, wait. Don't tell me you're afraid. That would be, like... so lame. Imagine that. A big old lumberjack- scared shitless of a girl like me."

"Please!" He begged. "I learned my lesson! I-I won't ever bother you again, I'll-"

"Lesson?" Britni blinked. "You think I did all this because I was trying to teach you a lesson? Why the fuck would I care enough to do that? The reason I'm doing this is because it's fun, dumbass. Now, get this. I'm gonna ask you a question, and I'm only gonna ask you once..." she drew even closer, her heels slamming into the stone beneath her feet. Britni raised her right foot, hovering it above the man's groin.

"Left or right?"

His eyes shot open, his pupils shrinking into little pinpricks. "N-No...!"

"That wasn't an option," she growled through her teeth. "And guess what happens now that you've proved you're too much of a worm-brained fuckwit to make a simple decision for himself? I'm taking both of them."

"NO! PLEASE, NO!!"

Britni flashed a sadistic smile as she smashed her heel downwards. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the Stone Cold Tavern, followed by more people screaming. Every man left in the bar nearly fainted just from imagining the pain of her attack. As for the victim, he passed out from fear and hit his head on the stone flooring.

Otherwise, he was completely unharmed.

Her foot had left a huge impact crater right before his pelvis. Still, Britni wasn't above leaving the man unscathed. She kicked in his kneecaps in a way that would ensure his legs healed smoothly. Knowing that this shitstain of a man would have to spend a lot of time with his wife and kids for the next couple of months filled Britni with drunken glee. That, and she was just a massive fan of snapping people's legs like twigs.

Right on time, Dusty emerged from the kitchens and took stock of how many customers he'd lost and how much property damage ensued during Britni's rampage. What the Golem saw shocked him to his literal core. The bar hadn't actually been cleared out, and the only thing amiss was the section of flooring Britni stomped on. Not bad. This might've just been her mildest episode yet.

Like nothing had ever happened, Britni holstered her axe and hopped back up on the barstool. "Well, that was fun," she sighed with contentment. "Don't worry about the damage. I got more than enough gold."

"And how are you proposing he gets home?" Dusty asked, pouring another dark beer and setting it on the seat to Britni's left.

"He's still got arms," Britni shrugged. "That fucker might be as stupid as a Troll, but I'm pretty Gods-damned sure he can figure out how to crawl."

Dusty considered this before nodding in acceptance. "Works for me."

Britni smiled and had herself a long drink from the mead-filled horn, hoping it would taste of sweet victory. It did not. It still tasted like unconquered Half-Elven femboys and failure, the same as before. Before her mood could inevitably worsen, however, a door opened on the far side of the bar.

Marlie emerged from the restroom. Saying nothing, she stood there observing the scene, the man with the shattered kneecaps and the impact crater right in front of his groin. Marlie was also dressed casually that night, wearing tight black pants, a black tank top, and a red leather jacket with metal spikes on both shoulders. Her disappointment was so apparent that her face mask did little to conceal it.

She walked past the lumberjack, pulled out the barstool next to Britni, and took her seat. Her hand immediately found the handle of the tankard. After inserting a straw through a hole in the side of her mask, Marlie took a long sip. She didn't so much as look at Britni, instead focusing on Dusty mopping up some alcohol whose glasses were inexplicably shattered.

"Five minutes," Marlie sighed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Britni lied.

"I can't even leave you alone long enough to take a piss without you losing your shit."

The sudden accusation from her friend caused Britni's temper to flare. Sparks danced in the air around her fists as she tightened them. "It's not my fault I act like this!" Britni whined, her voice cracking under pressure.

Marlie wasn't impressed. She was wise to Britni's plan, and for several long, drawn-out moments, she held off asking the question that Britni expected her to. It only delayed the inevitable, but doing so sometimes helped Marlie pause and gather her thoughts.

"Whose fault was it, then?" She asked, getting it over with.

"It was..." Britni paused to suck in the air and gather the many emotions welling up within her. Tears started running down her cheek as she slammed her electrified fist into the countertop, shouting, "It was that stupid, Half-Elven manslut's fault! Who else would it be?!"

Everything broke down from there. Completely uninvited, Britni threw herself into Marlie's chest. The proud, mighty Viking was bawling her eyes out like a child less than half her age. She wrapped her arm around the Half-Demoness, finding Marlie's heightened body heat as comforting as ever.

As for Marlie herself, all she could do was let out a sigh and halfheartedly wrap one arm around her friend to pat her on the back while her other hand lifted the tankard up. She drank like a fish out of water during the embrace, but it wouldn't be of much help. It took a truly outstanding amount of alcohol to inebriate most types of Demon, even half-blooded ones. That's why she figured she'd better start now. Time had only taught her that Britni-watch was a thankless job that would last through the night.

"I... I just don't understand...!" She continued sobbing, using the opportunity to nuzzle between Marlie's small but inviting breasts which radiated the comforting heat of her infernal blood. "If Coye suddenly grew a pair, why didn't he start with me? Why would he ask that grubby little midget out instead?!"

As rhetorical and stupid as that question was, Marlie had known Britni for three years now. She was overly familiar with how her party leader acted when she was drunk. There were two distinct states Britni entered when under the influence of alcohol. Either she'd act exceedingly happy and friendly to everyone she encountered or turn into an insufferable, hysteric, whiny, sobbing mess even more prone to violent mood swings than she already was.

The night before, they'd all gotten drunk in their dorm room. A similar emotional outbreak occurred, but luckily, they'd kept Britni in check. Marlie was hopeful that she'd gotten it all out of her system, but then Britni ran into Coye and Byng that morning and spent the rest of the day grilling Tammy and pacing around like she was having a manic episode.

Because Coco wasn't exactly a qualified therapist, and Tiph was a bad influence more often than not, Marlie took it upon herself to take Britni out, hoping it would do her good. With any luck, the coin toss over Britni's modes of drunkenness might turn out positive and perk her up.

Sadly, there was no such luck.

"You want to know why Coye hasn't asked you out?" Marlie questioned, an unamused, sober reflection present in her smooth-sounding voice.

"More than anything!" Britni pulled away from her friend's chest, although she continued to sob. "I don't fucking get it!"

"You don't have even so much as a single clue?"

"No!"

"Not even the faintest inkling of an idea as to why he might not be interested in you?"

"I already said no, didn't I?! Like, get on with it! You're obviously setting up some smart-ass comment, so just say what you want to say!"

"He's not interested because you've been bullying him for almost an entire year now as part of some asinine scheme to toughen him up."

"...And?" Britni tilted her head and blinked like a vacant idiot.

Marlie felt a throbbing pain inside her forehead, which only more beer could cure. She downed the rest in one sip, then tapped on the counter and nodded at Dusty for another. He was already pouring her one, though- the Golem was just that good. Over the last year, Marlie had advised Britni against her stupid plan time and time again. The problem was that 'Britni' and 'listening to reason' often proved mutually exclusive.

"You're better off just asking him out yourself," Marlie said for what must've been the hundredth time.

"You know why I can't do that!" The emotional drunk slumped over the counter.

"Yes, I do..." she admitted after taking another long sip of beer. "Still. Just because I can understand where you're coming from on a theoretical level doesn't make dealing with you any less-" Marlie held back the word 'annoying' as she looked at her friend's pitiable expression. Britni looked like she was on the verge of discovering some sort of leveled-up, ascended version of crying that had been lost to the Realm in ages long gone.

Setting her beer off to the side, Marlie heaved her shoulders. She knew when to keep her barbed comments to herself and when to be a good friend. Now was the time for the latter. After swiveling the bar stool to face Britni, she opened her arms and started to ask, "Do you need another hug, or-" only for Britni to rush forward and stain Marlie's shirt with tears.

Anyone who'd stayed in the tavern past Britni's violent display was starting to clear out, something Marlie couldn't blame them for. All she could do was sigh. Sigh, and give her friend the comfort she needed. She embraced the Viking and started stroking her clawed fingers across Britni's scalp just the way she liked.

They'd first met almost three years ago.

Although it wasn't under the best circumstances, the now famous Perlshaw Adventurer's Guild had recently completed construction and was opened for business. Many young adventurers were drawn to its luxurious accommodations, Britni and Marlie ending up there within a week of each other. Marlie never planned on making friends, but their job required working with a team to tackle more difficult challenges than they could on their own.

Britni insists that Marlie first approached her by asking for help clearing a dungeon with an alleged mythical armory at its end. At the same time, Marlie recalls it was Britni who first chatted her up and wouldn't go away until she agreed to help out with slaying a Scarlet-shelled Tortonaut. Putting aside whose recollection of events was correct(Marlie's), their team-up unknowingly opened a door that couldn't ever be closed.

Britni was a thundering hurricane who pulled others into the eye of her storm where escape was impossible. In more gracious terms, she inspired others to follow her, and not even the aloof Half-Demoness was immune to Britni's leadership. In less gracious terms, Britni stuck around until Marlie considered her an acquaintance, followed by her friend and then her best friend.

Marlie never explicitly consented to any of this, but it was what it was. A best friend by default was still a best friend. Besides, Marlie was content with her lot as a member of the Baddest Bitches... at least until they moved to Cransmere, where Britni fell in love. Marlie's life had been nothing but migraine after migraine ever since, connected loosely by a series of adventures and bullying sessions.

A few minutes passed. Britni was starting to get more of her shit together, evident by pulling away from the hug and going back to drinking some of her mead.

"Feel better?"

"A little," Britni frowned. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid, Marls-"

"Never call me that."

"Whatever," she sighed. "My point is that you, like... don't deserve to have to deal with any of my shit..."

"Yet here I am. Again. Just like I'll presumably be here the next time you pop off."

Hearing Marlie's words of friendship brought a smile to the drunk girl's lips, but her face was ruined by the streams of makeup flowing down her cheek. "You're too good to me."

"Then perhaps you could show your appreciation by listening to my advice for once. I told you from the second you pitched that stupid plan that even if you somehow succeeded and made a manly man out of the poor little guy, he wouldn't up and thank you for it, didn't I? I told you he would hate you."

Marlie paused. She didn't mean to say that last part, but it just sort of slipped out. The tears she'd worked so hard to quell were now on the verge of returning in greater force as Britni's eyes watered and her lip trembled.

"Y-You... you really think he hates me?!" Britni blubbered.

At least her slip-up was easy to correct. Truthfully, Marlie had her doubts. Especially after yesterday. Although Coye remained timid, so much differed from when they'd last laid eyes on him. He looked at Britni with excitement, a degree of confidence, a cheekier attitude, and, most importantly, a willingness to submit. Marlie didn't know whether this was a good or bad development, only that it made her reconsider things as they currently stood.

"Not as much as I thought, I suppose..." Marlie mumbled under her breath, not wanting to raise Britni's expectations too much.

Her expectations now soaring above the highest branches of the World Tree, Britni perked up and smiled ear to ear. "So, like... you're saying there's hope?!"

Marlie applied pressure to her forehead and held back a long grumble.

"I'm saying that in two weeks, Coye inexplicably transformed into a masochistic pervert. Now all of a sudden, you're checking a lot of his boxes. If you worked with that, tried to capitalize on it, and dropped all this toughening him up bullshit, you have a bigger 'in' with him than you ever had before."

Like clockwork, another mood swing took hold of the drunken warrior. She became enraged. "Ew! As if! Men are not supposed to act like that!" Britni raised her voice, the pain from her emotional shouting scratching the back of her throat like a rodent's claws. "The only chance things will ever work out between us is if I beat all that gross, girly shit out of him! You know why I can't just take him and fuck that little twink all the way to Valhalla the way a true Midgardian would, don't you?!"

Marlie responded with a solemn nod.

She felt bad that Coye got caught up in this mess, and all because he'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Marlie thought that the boy was harmless enough, personally. He didn't take up much space in her mind beyond the sizable portion Britni forced her to allocate him.

More than she felt sorry for Coye, however, Marlie felt indescribable pity for her friend. So many things had been beaten out of her- warmth, hope, kindness- why wouldn't Britni believe that any problem could be solved by kicking someone until they're down and forcing them to change into something they're not?

"Can I be real with you?" Marlie asked after an extended period of silence.

Britni felt a chill running down her spine. Whenever Marlie got serious, it always ended in her saying something Britni didn't want to hear. "What?"

"Any relationship founded on thoughts like 'I can change him' or 'I can fix him' is doomed before it ever began."

As expected, Britni didn't like hearing that. She clenched her fist, but it wasn't in rage. Frustration, yes, but mainly it was caused by understanding the truth in Marlie's words. Britni knew she could try and brush it off or face reality. The choice was always there- she just couldn't compulsively stop making the wrong one.

"Whatever," Britni scoffed. "It's not like you would know a damn thing about relationships!"

"I don't need dating experience to have common sense," Marlie countered. "I'm smart like that."

"You are, are you? Well, well, well! If you're so damn smart, then why don't you figure out a way I can make this work so that everybody's happy! Me, him-"

"And them, too?"

Britni winced and turned her gaze elsewhere. "Everyone."

"There is no way you can date him while keeping 'everybody' happy. The two of you on your own, though? I have a pretty good idea about how you could manage that."

"And what would that be?" Britni crossed her arms.

"Let him fix you instead of trying to break him."

Her eyes grew dull, and Britni's expression became distant. Whether she was remembering something from long ago or envisioning a life where she could have everything she ever wanted, Marlie couldn't say. It ultimately didn't matter- it's not like anything she could say to Britni would ever change her mind.

She wasn't an expert on human hearts, possessing only half of one herself, but Marlie was reasonably confident that you couldn't stitch one back together after half its pieces had been ground into dust.

"That's, like... so fucking stupid! Let him fix me? Fix what!" Britni laughed a laugh she believed to be genuine. "Gods, that might be the dumbest thing you've ever said. I don't need fixing. He just needs to get his shit together and finally become the kind of man he already showed me he is!" Britni began smiling as electricity surged around her tightly-balled fists. "I know what I have to do, Marlie. I just have to keep chipping away at him until nothing else is left...!"

"Dusty?"

"On the house," The Golem was already sliding a fresh tankard of beer her way.

"Keep them coming," Marlie spoke over the searing pain of her latest migraine while Britni went off on a drunken rant on how she would break Coye's spirit and reshape him into her ideal man. It was easier than facing the harsh truth of knowing he already was.