Soma-ch for beating the heat
- >Soma-ch for beating the heat
- Springtime; the time of year when life seems to claw its way up to the world kicking and screaming as it shoves the past few months onto a live wire. Unfortunately, however, this meant that it was Heat season.
- Huey sat alone in the makeshift kitchen, downing his third breakfast gin-'n-tonic for the day, when his usual session of navel-gazing and general dickishness was interrupted by a decidedly loud THUMP from the pitiful excuse of a living room., and several bouts of miserable cussing and stumbling about on the part of the unfortunate culprit.
- "Fuck me," came Michiru's rather strained voice, hand buried in the fur of her forehead while her other hand was occupying itself with keeping her steady, "What the hell is up with these damned headaches recently!?"
- Huey just looked at her; slowly, noisily sipping at his cocktail as he did so, the relative silence only being broken as he placed the glass down with the same degree of care as one might give a newborn child. "Simple. You're in heat, but since your mind isn't exactly, well, equipped to deal with the sudden rush of hormones, you're gonna be dealing with a LOT of this bullshit for a while."
- She only looked at him with contempt at his rapid diagnosis, her hand clutching harder at her forehead as she did so. "Oh? And what the hell would you know about being in heat? You're a fucking guy, you literally don't have the parts NEEDED to be in heat!" Again, she was met with the same infuriating calm as before.
- "Simple, bitch. I've been there." That got a reaction, and a fairly impressive one at that. "Wha-bu-HOW. HOW the ACTUAL FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN IN HEAT?!" Another silence ensued as Huey stood from his chair to look around in the cupboards. "Male and female aspects, kid. I'm just as much a red-blooded man as I am a thirsty, conniving bitch. I just like this shape, y'know?" Another THUMP could be heard as the tanuki brought her head down on the table with force.
- Eventually, though, she could hear the sounds of the cabinet doors shutting, and a delicate-sounding POP as a bottle was uncorked. "Here, kid," Huey said, holding a small, thimble-sized glass, filled with what looked to be cold water; granted, on closer inspection, she could see faint silver flecks dancing about in the fluid. "It's a... well, I guess you could call it a home remedy of sorts. Bit of soma, little bit of shaved wormwood, and it'll clear your mind for a good while." She just gave him a look, one that was flat enough that you could use it to level a picture frame. "You're shitting me. Your 'home remedy' is just giving me Soma to drink?" Another pause, though she wasn't entirely sure what the reason behind it was. "Yup." "After you nearly gave me blood poisoning the last time you gave me Soma?" Huey just let out a short, barking laugh. "That was pure, concentrated Soma, kid. The stuff that'll get even gods drunk. This is... well. It's very much watered down."
- She looked at the small thimble; the promise of finally being rid of these crushing headaches, even at the risk of getting piss-drunk and potentially humiliating herself while she sobered up was mighty tempting in its own right...
- Ah, fuck it. "Well," she said, grimacing as she lifted the thimble from the table, "Bottom's up, I guess."
- The last thing she remembered of that week was the taste of moonlight, and the bitter sting of wormwood.
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