"I don't want to go in there," Aexilica growled, "it reeks."

The excuse sounded petulant, even to her, but words alone were insufficient to convey just how awful the stench in that damned chamber was. Like the den of a dragon—in fact, worse. Aexilica had been within the den of an actual dragon, and found nothing like the rancid air she was now being asked to inhale.

But Vari and Krummer were as unmoving as ever.

"You are a woman," Vari replied, "we cannot go in because we are not."

There was something to that, Aexilica had to admit. One thing all three of their nations seemed to have in common was the notion of men and women not venturing into one another's sleeping areas without violating basic decency. Why, she thought, was it always the women who were given unpleasant jobs by society's norms?

A pointless question of course, she already knew it was because most norms were decided by men.

"But it's so…unhygenic." A final, weak protest on Aexilica's part and one that, of course, both of the men crushed simply by staring her way.

"It's been weeks," Krummer pointed out. Aexilica shivered. Right. Weeks, weeks without leaving that damned room. Too much. It was too much, there was a limit to everything. Grumbling all the way, she set out to the disease-trap and knocked once upon its doors.

No answer came, even after a few moments of waiting. Aexilica knocked again, waited slightly longer, called out for the occupant and then, finally, braced herself to push into the door without further invitation.

At once, the smell hit her. It was like a physical thing, as if she were walking through a solid wall rather than a doorway. Aexilica's eyes were watering within a moment, her body trembling with thick convulsions of utter disgust. The air within was stagnant, hot and, she noticed, actually visibly clotted by detritus. Though large, the room was dark and littered by various remnants of mouldy food and sweaty clothes. There was a sharp, notable scent piercing the others too. The smell of…

Aexilica's lip curled. The smell of a very particular bodypart, given a very particular treatment. Realising that her nostrils were now assailed by the fruit of several weeks' worth of essentially non-stop masturbation, she felt anger replacing her disgust.

"Emma!"

Emma groaned, turned over slightly in her mound of blankets. It somehow made the smell worse, as if some pocket of particularly repulsive air had been trapped beneath the girl only to find freedom in her shifting position. That was the last straw for Aexilica. She stalked across the room, made for the coverings—thick strips of fabric the people here called 'drapes'— and yanked them open.

Instantly, daylight flooded in. Emma screamed as if she were a vampire herself, recoiling and burying her face under the blankets. Aexilica braced herself, steeled her nerves, and took hold of one unwashed corner of the fabric to pull it fully off her.

Fortunately, Emma was clothed. Though only by a few crusty under-things that were stained more than one colour by weeks of uncleaned use. Bile rose up in the back of Aexilica's throat, but she pushed it down.

"Leave me alone!" Emma groaned, "I'm in mourning!"

"No you're not, you're an idiot," Aexilica snapped, "now get out of bed. Last chance." Seconds passed, and the last chance slipped her by. Aexilica braced herself again before grabbing Emma by her ankle and hauling the woman over her shoulder.

She was somewhat moist, and sticky. Utterly disgusting, and Aexilica hurried as she carried her through to the room where a bath had been prepared already and hurled the woman bodily into the giant tub.

The smaller woman disappeared beneath the hot water, sending great ripples out in all direction. It really was a luxurious bathing room, far more than any of them had ever known before. That didn't stop Emma from complaining.

"You bitch!" Emma squealed, head coming up, flushed from the sudden heat, and splashing water everywhere. Aexilica calmly put a boot down on her scalp and forced the woman's face back underwater, held it there for a few seconds while she thrashed. It actually was quite a good system, Aexilica made sure she remained submerged and Emma's own panicked struggles churned the bath up enough that it was effectively washing her. That the others had already dumped some of that 'soap' stuff into the now-suddy water earlier helped further.

Aexilica didn't want to actually drown Emma though, so she let her up after a brief few seconds. Emma stood instantly, glaring at her as the water slowly turned a sickly brown-ish immediately around her.

"What the fuck is your problem!?" She snapped, panting with rage and trying, though entirely failing, to look intimidating.

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"You haven't left your room in weeks, and it's started to become dangerous for human life. Something had to be done." Aexilica was surprised how easily the words freed themselves from her, but then Emma really hadn't left any of them a choice. She was still glaring now, pausing a few moments before, finally, starting to fiddle with her underwear.

Aexilica got the message just in time not to see anything improper, turning away promptly as Emma went to more thoroughly washing herself.

"You've been invited to Kruger's party, or rather the people's party held for Kruger. It's tonight, six hours from now." She let her words run out quickly to hide the sudden embarrassment of everything. Gods, had she really just done that? Hauled the woman half-naked out of bed?

Yes, she had. And she would do it again. Aexilica had been patient with Emma—they all had—but her sulking session had already passed the point of absurdity after its fiftieth consecutive hour. If softness wouldn't work, it was her own fault to find them hard.

"Why bother?" Emma groaned, "nothing will be good anymore. Never again."

Irritation and conviction bled into anger.

"Would you just suck it up!?" She snapped at the girl. "You knew that vampire for two days, you can't seriously be acting like this all over nothing more than being denied some depraved fantasy."

Emma stared at Aexilica, blinking and frowning as if she couldn't fathom why in the world anyone wouldn't. It took a while for Aexilica to get her temper back under control. Sometimes, however useful she was in combat and all things arcane, Emma was the most impossible person in the world to tolerate.

"Whatever," she spat, "there's a fresh set of clothes down there by the bath."

She heard Emma start slipping them on, and decided to remain silent.

—"It's just that you never seemed to give half as much of a fuck about anything as you did that random woman." Oh, not remaining silent then. Oops.

Emma paused halfway through clothing herself before responding, sounding a shade…hesitant.

"That's…Not true, I care about you, it's just…"

Aexilica waited, deciding that Emma could either explain this herself or not. She'd get no help from her.

"My whole life, since I was a kid, I've wanted to…You know. Get railed by a vampire. Can you imagine what it's like, having something you've wished for—everything you've ever wished for—and then seeing it all slip away from you at once?"

"That was everything you'd ever wished for." Aexilica heard her own voice ring out somewhat distantly, and started walking. "Six hours, at the main room. Someone will probably be sent to tell you an hour in advance so you don't forget. Come wearing something nice and don't smell."

Emma sounded like she had more to say as Aexilica left, but none of it was anything she wanted to hear. Not right then.

***

After making a complete and total ass of herself, Emma found the urge to scrub her skin suddenly somewhat stronger. It gave her something to focus on, after all, that was not the look Aexilica's face had scrawled across it upon her making her way out of the room.

What was wrong with Emma, that she always managed to say the exact wrong thing? She thought about that as she scrubbed.

It wasn't autism, at least. Her parents had gotten her tested for that. Six times. Maybe she was just a bitch. Emma continued giving that the thought it warranted as she got her way out of the bath and finally dressed. She had to admit, the clothes were pretty classy affairs. Thoroughly Victorian of course, but then it wasn't like she'd ever had much tit or ass to show off anyway. Also if she did that surrounded by people from the early twentieth century they might kill her. A decent pick, in the end, she decided. Emma pulled it all on, even the fiddly stupid straps that served no purpose she could divine, and stumbled her way out of the bathing chamber.

What was wrong with her? That was one for the philosophers.

Her rooms had been cleaned out, and by the looks of things napalm had found some use in the process. The crust of refuse was thoroughly detached from her marble floors, which had been seemingly power-washed. The whole place reeked faintly of…What was it called? Carbolic acid? That stuff someone got institutionalised for suggesting everybody wash their hands with between ass-wiping and surgery in any case. It had a strong, pungent odour which, actually, Emma quite liked. Nothing like a strong-smelling chemical to reassure you the bacteriological weapon you'd accidentally been cultivating for the last few months was thoroughly disarmed.

Now that she could see the floor, everything here seemed bigger. Cold too. Emma shivered. Curgungdry was basically Germany, as far as she could tell, which, while a lot warmer than Scurlga had been, was still not Miami. Oh god, was she homesick?

Fuck no, everyone there was an insane asshole. Emma let out a sigh of relief for her still-intact sanity.

The hours dripped by like syrup, except without the sugar. Emma found herself suddenly tempted to just dump herself back in bed and get a head-start on ruining everything in her room again…But no. She'd just get herself hauled out a second time, probably by even angrier hands than the first. Best to just play along for now, she could continue mourning later once her presence was no longer demanded at the shitty party.

The beginning couldn't come soon enough, and Emma practically leapt to her feet when a knock rang out across her door snatching her across the room to open it.

Aexilica was waiting for her on the other side, and Emma actually took a second to recognise her. The woman's hair was the same as ever, short-ish and haphazard, but she'd been crammed into a dress rather than her usually preferred armour, and Emma was suddenly reminded how athletic she was by all the muscle and flat skin on display. She loomed taller than ever in a pair of high heels, and her face had actually been done up with a bit of makeup too. Clearly not by Aexilica herself, whoever had applied it knew what they were doing and had made a fine job of drawing out her…Everything.

"Is…Something the matter?" Emma realised only upon hearing the woman's question that she'd been staring, quite openly. Oops. It had just been a surprise. Months of travelling with Aexilica, and she realised only now that she'd never actually seen the woman dressed up. She scrambled to think of something suitable, to pass her fumble off.

"I think you have a bit of—"

—"Thank you, that's enough," Aexilica cut in, fortunately stopping Emma from finishing her disaster of a sentence. "Let's head off." With that, she turned and started walking away. Emma, pausing only for the briefest moment, followed after her.

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