Tall Tales or Short Lies? [Phlox]

[FirebrandPhlox]

As Dunsmith asked if they were sure, Quentin just nodded again. The offer to back out only cemented their resolve to prove they had the moxie, and stomach, to handle the spice. They turned around and headed back to the food area, grabbing two large glasses of milk. Once the dairy was in hand, Quentin headed back to their original seat.

If the spice truly did build on itself like Dunsmith said, this would be quite the challenge to get through. Part of Quentin's stomach dropped at the thought of experiencing a sensation that was somehow even spicier than the single pepper, but they couldn't back down now. Quentin wouldn't let the peppers go to waste, nor let their pride take a hit by not eating them.

[nineofswords]

"You're certainly braver than I am, then," Dunsmith said with a laugh, following Quentin back to the food. Seeing that they had plenty of milk, he started grabbing the various strange-looking fruits of Semaca and started throwing them into bowls. There were a few things as well that he wasn't sure if they were fruits or not, but he threw them in anyway.

That done, he followed Quentin back to their table and put the bowl near them. He propped his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers, and propped his chin on them. "I'm not sure if those things can kill you, but I promise I'll have Dunsk drag you to the infirmary if it's looking like you've bitten off more than you can chew," Dunsmith said, looking positively enraptured.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin stared at the small pile of peppers in front of them, flanked by milk and various produce. Some certainly looked more like vegetables than fruit, but who knew what all the plants on the southern continent were truly like. They took a deep breath and cracked their neck, preparing for the onslaught ahead of them.

After a moment's hesitation, Quentin grabbed another of the sinister peppers and popped it in their mouth. Like the first one, it took a moment for the wave of heat to fully coat their mouth. Even though they were expecting it, the heat was just as bad as the first time. Quentin blinked back the tears welling in their eyes and turned their attention to the fruit.

Quentin grabbed a yellow fruit that curved like a crescent moon and took a large bite. The skin was extra thick and bitter, but the inside of the fruit was sweet and mushy. It didn't help with the spice though, and the texture of the rind was extremely unpleasant. That one didn't help, they signed as they chewed through their mouthful.

[nineofswords]

Dunsmith watched Quentin brace themselves, not bothering to hide his excitement at the upcoming show. The array of choices would almost look appetizing if Dunsmith didn't know what kind of pain Quentin was about to subject themselves to using it.

He watched as tears welled up in Quentin's eyes then went after a fruit. He was pretty sure he'd seen some more long-term Semacan denizens take the peel off that thing before they ate it, and he winced a little, but let Quentin bite into it regardless. Who knew, maybe it was the peel that would help cut the heat?

Or apparently not. They'd just signed that it hadn't helped. Dunsmith slid some milk towards them. "I almost feel like I should be taking notes," he admitted. "I feel like this is something other people would like to know, too." He looked over the fruit he'd grabbed. "Maybe try one of the red ones," he said. "Maybe red will counteract red, and that's why they're the same color." It was as good a rationale as any.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin continued to chew the pepper and yellow fruit, nodding at Dunsmith's suggestion to try one of the red fruits. They took a swig of milk, and choked down the bitter mixture. Coughing at the heat, Quentin grabbed another pepper. Best to get through the pile as quickly as possible and not draw it out too much. As they chewed on the pepper and a fresh wave of painful heat flowed through their mouth, they grabbed a round red fruit to try pairing with the pepper.

Upon grabbing the fruit, Quentin realized the exterior was hard and firm, too hard to bite through. Blinking through the new pool of tears in their eyes, they grabbed a knife at stabbed at the fruit. The tough rind was too hard for the dulled knife to do any damage.

Grunting in frustration, Quentin smashed the fruit against the table several times, creating a loud thumping noise that rang through the room. When the thumping was replaced with a cracking sound, Quentin turned over the fruit. The shell had begun to split, so they forced their thumbs inside and wrenched the plant open.

Inside were hundreds of small orbs, nestled in white pith. Desperate for relief from the building heat, Quentin scooped seeds with their fingers and shoveled them into their mouth. The seeds were sweet and tart, but did not help cut through the spice. Quentin held up half the fruit to Dunsmith, offering the rest of the fruit to their companion. "Still spicy," they coughed out. "But the fruit is good."

[nineofswords]

Dunsmith winced when Quentin took a swig of milk while there was still fruit and pepper in their mouth. The kid's stomach - and taste buds - were made of far sterner stuff than Dunsmith's own. "Please don't choke, my friend," Dunsmith said, making absolutely no move to help them.

He continued to watch, fascinated, as Quentin immediately moved onto the next pepper and fruit combination. When the knife proved too dull for the fruit, he half rose from his seat, intending to get a sharper one, but Quentin took matters into their own hands, practically attacking it in their desperation to get into it. Rather than be mortified or shocked by the abrupt and aggressive display of fruiticide, Dunsmith looked enthralled, simply delighted, and settled himself back into his seat.

Dunsmith took what was left of it from Quentin. "Faranth," he said, laughing as he saw the juice dribbling from the side he'd been handed and staining the tabletop like wine, or even blood. "I think you very thoroughly killed this one. Maybe we should've prepped the fruits for eating before trying this, eh? Ah well, we live and learn. Who would've guessed the fruits of Semaca would be so much more difficult to get into than those on the Northern continent?"

[FirebrandPhlox]

The tears had gone from welling in Quentin's eyes to streaming down their cheeks. The heat was spreading from their mouth down the back of their throat and to the top of their chest. Quentin let out a deep, throaty cough trying to get some airflow to quell the heat. It didn't help. Another swig of milk went down the hatch.

Quentin nodded as Dunsmith spoke, only half hearing him and processing even less of what was said. Blinking through the tears, they looked down at the pile of peppers before them. There were still so many to get through. One at a time was only going to prolong the suffering. To expedite the process, they grabbed two peppers and bit down. Surprisingly, the heat didn't feel twice as hot as a single pepper. It was still incredibly painful and mind-numbing, but not as hot as was expected. Quentin clenched the side of the table, scrunching up their face as they chewed through the peppers. Sweat was starting to dribble from their brow.

Reaching for another red fruit, this time some berries, Quentin coughed again. The heat was too much, but they couldn't back down now. They were more than halfway through the pile. They tossed the berries into their mouth. They were sweet and juicy, but didn't help at all with the heat. Quentin pounded their fist on the table a few times, drumming the energy into themselves for a second wind.

[nineofswords]

Dunsmith watched as the tears started actually falling from Quentin's eyes. Was the heat truly that bad that they were crying, or were they just being forced out by its intensity? Quentin's face looked like it was turning red, and they were coughing, but they did not seem to be willing to stop. Stubborn, this one. Seeing that Quentin was rapidly getting low on milk, Dunsmith got up and went and got a few more glasses, hurrying so as not to miss anything interesting, like Quentin finding the right combination or else passing out.

Dunsmith was well versed in being placated, in someone nodding along without really listening. It never stopped him from talking, of course, but he knew it when he saw it, and right now Quentin had the look of someone who wasn't listening. They were staring at the peppers, and Dunsmith wondered if they were thinking of stopping, feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief at the thought, but then the kid grabbed two peppers. "Well," Dunsmith said with a laugh. "Never let it be said that you lack in courage, my friend. Or perhaps it's simply stubbornness, but oftentimes the two are indistinguishable after a point. Frankly, I'm surprised you're still sitting here and haven't gone to dunk your head in the lake. That truly must hurt something awful."

He watched as Quentin grasped the edge of the table, saw as sweat started appearing on their forehead. A responsible adult would at this point have likely taken the peppers away, would've told Quentin that they'd proven whatever point they'd set out to make. Dunsmith, however, just continued watching. After all, Quentin knew their limits better than he did, and if they wanted to destroy their tastebuds and quite possibly their bowels going through this ordeal, who was he to stop them? The beauty of living so far out from society was getting to make truly terrible choices.

When Quentin started pounding on the table, though, Dunsk had had enough. He'd gradually been growing more and more uneasy at this little demonstration, as well as at Dunsmith's lack of concern about it. Is enough, he told Quentin. Should stop before you hurt self. Dunsk's voice was gentle but firm. He wanted Quentin to stop.

Dunsmith sighed, recognizing that tone of voice in the wher. "Well, that was fun while it lasted," he said, disappointed and not bothering to hide it. "And at least we learned a few fruits that don't work on it, eh?"

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin wiped their brow, still chewing the last mouthful of peppers and berries when Dunsk told them to stop. The wher was using a tone Quentin was familiar with, one their mother often used with them to get them to stop trying to keep up with their older brothers when Quentin was still little.

Now, however, Quentin wasn't the same tiny child toddling after their brothers. They were grown and strong and would finish eating these peppers. Quentin paused and nodded at whatever it was Dunsmith commented to them. They drank one of the glasses of milk Dunsmith had brought, blinking to clear their eyes.

With a deep breath, they grabbed the rest of the peppers with their massive hand and shoved the bunch into their mouth. The bitterness of the peppers was completely gone, or perhaps Quentin just couldn't taste it anymore. All they could feel was more of the searing heat and a fresh wave of tears in their eyes. An electric tingle shot down their arms as the heat hit their throat.

They stood up and clenched their arms, holding back the cough rising in their chest. They managed to swallow the last of the peppers and let out a guttural yell that rang through the dining hall.

[nineofswords]

Dunsmith's eyes went wide as dinner plates as Quentin shoved all the shell-rotting peppers into their mouth. Faranth, but he was half afraid the kid was going to explode from all that heat hitting them at once.

And they did, after a fashion, standing and yelling once all of the peppers were down their throat. Dunsmith rose, glass in hand, holding milk out for Quentin. "Bravo," he said with feeling. "That was a show if ever I've seen one my friend. Never let anyone push you around or tell you when you've hit your limit. It is your life to live and throw away as you desire!"

And then he was knocked to the floor.

Dunsk did not have his entire weight on Dunsmith, because he was not actually interested in killing the man, but he was going to make him listen. And if that meant coming into the dining hall and shoving people out of the way to knock over his bond and pin him to the floor, so be it.

Do not congratulate that! the brown snarled. Was foolish. Dangerous. Might hurt self. Badly. He leaned his muzzle closer to Dunsmith as though the proximity would make the man listen for once. Is your friend. Should care if they hurt, yeah?

Dunsmith held his hands up in a sign of surrender, a placating smile on his face. "Dunsk, please," he said. "I do care about them and if they get hurt, but I'm not their mother. Can you get off me, dear, we're making a bit of a scene, and not the good kind."

Will not let up. Quentin still in pain. Quentin in pain, you stay on floor. Is rule now.

"Dunsk, darling, be reasonable," Dunsmith tried. "I am not in control of whether or not Quentin feels pain! This is hardly fair, nor is it going to teach me the lesson you're so desperate to teach me." But the brown wasn't budging, figuratively or literally.

Lesson is, do not watch friends hurt selves and laugh, he growled, settling in for however long was necessary.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin was in a haze, but did manage to grab the glass of milk from Dunsmith before the man suddenly disappeared. They were unconcerned with whatever was happening across the table. They had to address the searing heat that seemed to be spreading through their whole body first. They chugged the milk and started reaching for whatever fruit remained on the table.

Their stomach did hurt and was protesting the additional food, but chewing the various fruits was slowly reducing the heat. The only one they could properly taste was so sour that Quentin's whole face puckered from the flavor.

Quentin let out a few raspy, chest shaking coughs and wiped their brow again. The heat was still burning, but they were becoming aware of their surroundings again. They finally noticed the massive wher in the place Dunsmith had previously occupied. "Oh, h.." another coughing fit interrupted them. "Hello Dunsk," Quentin managed to choke out.

[nineofswords]

Hello, Quentin, Dunsk replied, sounding remarkably casual for a creature who'd just burst into the dining hut in order to pin his handler to the ground. You see? Did not even notice me come in, he said privately to Dunsmith. Is not alright. Should not have encouraged.

"Oh please, they're fine!" Dunsmith argued, contorting enough that they could look up at Quentin around the furniture between them. "Tell Dunsk you're fine, Quentin, there's a good kid. He won't let me up unless he hears it from you."

Will not! Dunsk snapped. Quentin would lie if you ask. Cannot trust word. But can trust face. When it stop being red, you get up. Not before.

Dunsmith gestured at the wher who had his front paws pressed against his chest. Dunsk couldn't actually sit on Dunsmith or else he'd seriously hurt him, but it was not hard for the wher to keep the man prone nonetheless. "You see what I have to deal with?" he asked Quentin. "Let this be a lesson for you: Don't get a wher. They're more trouble than they're worth."

Only trouble here you, Dunsk retorted.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Upon Dunsmith's pleading, Quentin went to say they were fine. Instead, they were hit with another coughing fit and merely gave the man a shaky thumbs up.

Quentin wasn't entirely following along with what was going on between Dunsmith and Dunsk, as they still felt as if their entire face was on fire and it was making it quite difficult to focus on what was happening around them. They continued to drink the milk in front of them, and picked at the remaining fruit that had been brought over. They still couldn't quite taste what they were eating, but they weren't going to let the food they had taken go to waste, upset stomach be damned. Slowly their face became less flushed.

They watched as the man and his wher argued, still not processing the full scope of the argument. They gave a weak smile to Dunsmith, figuring this was another of the old man's jokes.

[nineofswords]

Dunsmith winced when Quentin broke out in coughs again. His wher was glaring daggers down at him. "Okay, fine, I admit that perhaps they might've pushed themselves a little farther than they would've otherwise without my encouragement. Is that what you wanted me to say? That I had some hand in this? That I might be slightly, partially in the wrong here?"

Dunsk shook his head. You impossible, was all Dunsk said. Head too thick to get ideas through.

Dunsmith lay back with a sigh. "Well. I suppose I shall have to resign myself to living the rest of my life out on this floor here. The timbers of this place shall become my new sky, the hardwood my ground." He placed a wrist dramatically across his forehead. "My squad captain shall no doubt wish to reprimand me for forsaking my post, will assign me punishments aplenty, but alas! I shan't be able to move for the wher on my chest. The denizens of Semaca shall eventually grow used to us as we are, and perhaps in their kindness will throw us the scraps of their meals. The wood grain will grow up around us until we become as one with this building!"

Dunsk ignored Dunsmith's dramatics, knowing that any acknowledgement would only encourage further antics. He instead looked at Quentin. How you not sick, yet? he asked, aghast at how much food they were still putting in their mouth. Sure, a wher could pack in that much food, but Quentin was hardly a wher! Will burst.

"Tales will soon spread of the man who is one with the floorboards." Dunsmith said loudly, sensing that no one was paying attention to him. "Harpers will craft ballads warning others of the tale of woe that is the life of this poor, ancient wherhandler, bullied into petrification by his own bond!"

The expression Dunsk was making was that of the most put-upon creature in all of Pern's long history.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin's face had returned to about its normal color, though internally their stomach was now protesting the amount of food piled on top of the heat. They stopped eating, and just stared at the food in front of them. As if prompted by the wher's inquiring, they were suddenly feeling quite unwell. Not wanting to make a scene, Quentin just let out a soft groan and leaned forward, resting their head on the cool table in front of them.

They took some deep, slow breaths. Trying to focus on anything other than all the discomfort in their abdomen. Dunsmith was waxing poetic about about being stuck on the floor. Quentin lifted their head meekly and quietly asked Dunsk, "let him up now?"