recordkeeper

This was glubbing ridiculous. Apparently, the medium thought it was funny to throw less gentle monsters at the seadweller than it had at the humans. There'd been no word on what Byross was doing in the meantime - which probably meant he was up to the usual shenanigans. It was to Clerus's credit that he was agile enough to avoid the vast majority of the attacks of the trio of chalk ogres, and it was a borderline miracle that the granite basilisk hadn't managed to sink its claws into him. And then a flash of light, blurred by the omnipresent smog, announced the arrival of a particular pale alien.

Oh gods DAMNIT, Melinda, was Maia's first thought on realizing she was falling. Her second was to look down and shriek at the top of her lungs. Oh gods oh gods oh gods I'm gonna die.

He swore under his breath, shaking his head. Defensive combat wasn't going to cut it - Melinda hadn't had time to build up his hive enough to where there wouldn't be an unpleasant landing for Maia. Repeated swift strikes with an anchor that had contours and holes not unlike a recuperacoon were visited upon the basilisk, which soon crumpled like one of Byross's cans during an internal monologue. That left the three ogres.

But Maia was still falling. Cursing his luck (and, in the same breath, as well as to a lesser extent, his server), Clerus decided that leaping from the nearest point with the highest altitude to catch her was the best way to handle the situation. It just so happened to be, however, that the object that fit the bill was the pipe-puffing ogre's head. A quick jab to the monster's stomach knocked the wind out of it, giving Clerus enough time to leap up onto its shoulders. Gauging the general trajectory of the human, calculating for travel time...

The glubgrub leapt with most of his might - he wasn't going to overshoot her, after all.

Maia hadn't the faintest clue he was coming, flapping trenchcoat doing a great job of blocking her vision, so that Clerus catching her came as a complete and utter shock. She gaped at him, hair whipping around her face in a black cloud. "Holy godsdamn fucking SHIT!"

"Good evening," he said in a properly stiff, borderline regal tone (never you mind the... err, pirate-esque emphasis on the r's) as he tilted an eyebrow while sizing her up properly for the first time. After all, now he finally had a frame of reference that wasn't completely subjective. He still had a good six inches or so on her, but even so this wound up countering his belief that these humans would likely be small.

And then gravity caught up with the moment. But Clerus had accounted for this, and twisted so that he was the one to make contact with the quartz hillside. Can't be STRONG without being used to a little impact, after all. Still holding her, he rose to his feet with just a hint of stiffness. Wouldn't do to show weakness, especially in regards to what would likely turn out to be a series of unpleasant bruises, to the human.

"Do you need a moment to rrest? Orr should we get going immediately?" His visage was impassive as he looked down upon Maia. He would resist the urge to poke her, even if he was curious as to just how squishy humans actually were.

Maia gaped at him in utter shock, still processing what the fuck just happened. Melinda might have fainted at such a welcome, but Maia's got a bit better constitution and so just abruptly throws her arms around his neck in a death grip and babbles incoherently with shock. That would be a yes to needing a moment to rest.

Clerus gave a curt nod. "Acceptable. Perrseverrance in the face of adverrsity is an admirrable quality, no matterr yourr place in society, but we all have ourr limits. Take howeverr much time you need." And with that, he turned on his heel and began walking through the wading pool of tea. The additional weight was negligible to someone of his admittedly freakish strength.

Her skin was incredibly soft compared to troll skin, and she's pressing a surprising amount of it against him, given her vest is actually a halter top. She's in no mood to be put down, but she's coherent enough to make it much easier for Clerus and pulls herself up onto his shoulders, wriggling and squirming to keep from falling as she moves.

"Surprise" would be a pretty good description for what Clerus felt when the woman apparently tried to use him as a jungle gym. Never you mind that her, uhh... "pliable" body was now more or less writhing against his backside as she pulled herself up. Or that he'd just noticed how strangely soft human skin felt for the first time.

Immediately, his gills started reflexively twitching, as if he was gulping for air or simply just agitated. But aside from that, he froze, realizing that there was another sapient being clinging to him. It took a great deal of effort to refrain from reverting to the instinctive need to shake her off. He spoke through gritted teeth, forcing a measure of calm that he didn't feel.

"What, prray tell, arre you doing, VS?" Clerus asked quietly.

She giggled a little hysterically, easily pulling herself up onto both his shoulders once he stood still and grinning at him as she got settled. "I, I, uh, like high places, remember?" She pointed out. She also apparently has absolutely no concept of personal space - or was just that freaked out.. She balances carefully, but it presses almost the entirety of her torso against his shoulders. She's not entirely soft, he can feel the wirey muscles in her arms and the thicker muscles in her legs - no wonder the girl can cling to poles upside down with them.

He closed his eyes, reaching up to readjust his goggles in spite of having no real need to. A sigh escaped those gray lips. "I'm not rreelly that much tallerr than you, you know. If you want something to climb, therre's a number of those quarrtz mountains available. I'm not exactly pole materrial." Ahh, yes, he'd remembered the dancing thing. How could he not, given the circumstances? His hands found their way to the pockets at his hips, and he began walking, taking a lackadaisical pace in the interest of preserving his balance. If it hadn't been for the need to stay upright on the surface, this might've posed less of an annoyance to him.

"Taller enough." She argued, bracing her legs through his arms and getting comfortable. Surprisingly she manages to get balanced enough she's not really a challenge, as long a she stays relatively still. "And mountains are a lot harder to climb." She watches his face from her perch, relaxing now. "Besides, the tea'd be over my boots by now."

"Therre's absolutely nothing wrrong with getting wet," Clerus scoffed, casting a smug look over at Maia as he ambled through the stagnant fluid. The smooth movements were interrupted slightly by having to step over a thin natural wall between pools. "I've neverr been drry a day in my life, and am prroud to make such an asserrtion." A cursory look was given to the area in which his set of game-related devices lay - for now, at least, no more ogres were trying to have their way with the locale. Maybe they only tried to wreck the place when he was around?

"Yeah, well, I can't swim and it'd make my clothes stink." She pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "That's not much of a sub dude, no offense."

A low growl escaped Clerus's throat as he remembered the circumstances of some of the dismantling. "You can blame yourr frriend forr that one," he pointed out. In spite of her assertion that climbing mountains was harder than climbing people, getting a view with some altitude was the next item on his agenda. As such, he began walking up the reasonably steep stone slope. "Hazarrds of having a dwelling made of nonstandarrd materrials, forr that matterr."

"Oh, she fubar'd it huh?" Maia patted the top of Clerus's head lightly. She'd actually found the growl quite intimdating, but didn't want to let on. He can probably feel her tense up though. She keeps an eye on the slope and his balance, ready to hop off if her weight starts to bother him or throw him off-balance. "Tryin' ta figure the lay of the land?"

Determined to show this creature that he was the superior lifeform in terms of physical prowess, be it strength or agility, Clerus did his best to maintain an acceptable angle for Maia to continue to cling to him. "Prretty much. I haven't had much opporrtunity until now. It was mostly just drrifting between keeping an eye on you and dealing with intrruderrs." As altitude became something to which they had access, it became more and more apparent that the plant life was faltering at best - withered fungi of varying shapes and sizes lined the edges of most of the pools of tea, but there wasn't much else to note. The monsters native to the game ambled through the countryside, as if waiting for a chance to go after anyone foolish enough to be caught wandering about.

And, in the distance, there was the barely-visible cluster of color that made up a hodgepodge village of some kind. It was difficult to discern details beyond that.

"Ah. Yeah. Thanks for that, wouldn't have half this stuff if you hadn't been helping me out." She grinned, squeezing his shoulder lightly. She'd have hugged him but the position's too awkward. She keeps an eye on the monsters. "Oh, and Mel says she's gonna start buildin' up now since you've got plenty of grist. She just got into yer friend's land."

A vague smirk came over Clerus's features at the mention of building up. He turned so that he could judge the distance between his wreckage and the gate that Melinda would have to build up to. Roughly as much as he'd dealt with, but the human was going to have to work completely from scratch at this rate. The shoulder squeeze, however, was an unfamiliar sensation, and he wasn't certain what to register it as.

Figuring that they'd surveyed LOQAT long enough, Clerus began picking his way back down the oversized quartz boulder. "Well, I was alrready a fairr bit furrther along my escheladderr when we starrted this. You needed the help morre than I did, and I'm surre yourr frriend was in the same boat. ...Speaking of which, I hope she doesn't wind up trrying to kill Byrross."

Maia nodded. "Yeah, no kidding. It seems like we're fighting shit that's several levels ahead of what we should be though..." She frowned a little. "And yeah, well, she might not try to kill him but she might try to make him feel like he's not worth the air he breathes."

Even Clerus couldn't keep a straight face at that one. Laughter bubbled forth from the deposed aristocrat at such a thing ever being possible. He even had to turn around to hold onto one of the stony protrusions just for support, as his breath was difficult to maintain between his laughter and the questionable air. "Oh... Oh gods. You have no idea. I mean, you've dealt with him now, you know what he's like, but even so. If everr a trroll wanted a flushed rrelationship with himself, that bloody peasant is the posterr grrub for the notion."

Maia raised an eyebrow at him, shifting around and ending up seated on his shoulders, arms crossed on his head. "Haha, yeah, doesn't stop Mel from tryin' dude. I've seen her reduce libbies to teaaaaaaars with three sentences."

Once he'd finally regained his composure, having to empty his goggles of the tears from laughing so vigorously, Clerus smirked over at Maia. Up at Maia? Whatever he could manage, given their positions. It's a good thing sweeps of swimming in heavy clothing had given him a dogged endurance the likes of which were rarely matched by the flimsy earth humans. "Trrust me on this one. If anything, he'll rreturn firre tenfold. Rrunt has a gift with miserry. He can have the most self-assurred trroll wallowing in theirr own tearrs within an hourr, if he knows them well enough. He's almost like a counterrpoint to Saziil."

His countenance fell somewhat at a mention of his fellow seadweller, and a hand rose to absentmindedly smooth the long curve of his gills. The silence was broken only by the sound of his thick boots on the stone surface, and later by the water. The situation the two trolls were in was bleak at best - maybe moreso for Clerus who had actually valued the companionship of his fellow trolls, even if they tended to make a fool out of him. Even that meddler, Saziil, was just another victim of that apocalypse they'd barely avoided.

Maia hugged his head, though she tries not to cut off his air or block his sight. "Yeah. I miss people too. This kinda sucks. Parta why I'm so clingy I guess." She sighed, looking behind them. "Sounds like they're a matched pair though."

...And of course, Clerus's mind immediately took that completely the wrong way. It was quite fortunate that his blood color made it rather difficult to detect the blush that made his face feel far warmer than he was ever comfortable with. The region of human anatomy directly interfacing with the back of his skull wasn't exactly helping his thinkpan remain in cleaner regions of the troll imagination. "I... wouldn't be able to vouch forr whetherr orr not he's interrested in interrspecies rrelations," he admitted, affecting a gruff tone. Clearly, such things were beneath him!

"Huh?" She blinked down at him. "Wait, what? Where'd you get that from? I just meant they've got similar talents." She twisted, bracing herself so she can get a better look at his face. "But seriously what gave you the idea I was talkin' 'bout interspecies relationships??"

He feigned a look of moderate surprise at her lack of understanding. Now clearly wasn't the time to let her know that his mind had ventured there of its own accord. "I'm cerrtain it has something to do with a culturral misunderrstanding as to what it means to match. Afterr all, in a society so focused on deterrmining prrospective parrtnerrs, it's only naturral to make cerrtain assumptions." Yes, that would work. Cultural ignorance was always such an excellent excuse.

She raised an eyebrow. "I guess that works. Since mostly a single partner is the ideal for us we tend to think of matches as a single entity. A soulmate, y'know?"

Clerus nodded in understanding. "Much the same forr us, except we look forr one pairring in each quadrrant. And it's taught to us frrom a young age that therre is one perrfect match that will somenight fill that rrole. Math alone prroves that wrrong in ourr currrrent situation." His voice took a wry turn, and he shook his head slightly. He adjusted his path so that their destination would eventually be the village he'd managed to spot. It would be nice if they could, for once, avoid a little combat during the exploration stage...

"Yeah, we don't have quadrants, though we do have some sub-sets of the one kind. And yeah, kinda does doesn't it? That sucks." She watched, glad to rest her legs and surprisingly un-fidgity.

"Ourr two rraces will gasp theirr final glub herre on these arrtificial rrocks, but at least we'll be togetherr," he remarked with a hint of wry humor. As they neared the aforementioned cluster of colors, it became more clear that they were short stone domes covered with cloth of the colors that'd first attracted Clerus's attention. But the inhabitants were as of yet out of their line of sight.

He looked back over his shoulder toward her, stifling a grin at how comfortable she seemed in such a position. "You'rre welcome to join me on the grround and get yourr socks wet wheneverr you'd like."

She nodded. "Yeah, at least we're friends right? Even if we've only known eachother for like ten hours. Eesh." She snorted at his proposal, mussing his hair up. "Pfft. Wet socks mean a disease risk. Feet could get so swollen and fucked up they have to be amputated." She explained. "Was a huge problem a couple decades ago, we found out about it due to trench warfare." She shrugged. "If that was a hint you'd like me to get off for combat reasons however..."

He shook his head in mild surprise. "Yourr frrail human anatomy neverr ceases to amaze. How is it you hadn't alrready died out sweeps ago, I'll neverr fully underrstand. But if it's rreelly a concerrn, maybe you should walk arround with barre flipperrs rratherr than yourr shoes. But, as you said, incumbent combat is something of a concerrn, given any hostile locale. Forr all we know, this planet's consorrts have been completely wiped out, and the imps have taken theirr dwellings."

"True, but I don't know what the bottom is like. Given that's quartz rock it could be jagged which would be even worse on my feet, especially if we're fighting and I can't just feel my way forward." She shook her head a little. "As for that, well, we're the most intelligent species on the planet, we use tools to make up for what our bodies lack." She explained.

"Only serrving to prrove my point about how frragile and weak you humans arre," mused the troll, but his voice lost some of the usual haughtiness in favor of a more teasing tone, something that was almost awkward for him to manage. "That, orr you'rre simply making excuses to trry and stay up therre. Which I have yet to find a rreason to put past you, all things considerred."

She laughed. "Well admittedly that's part of it, yes. You're hella comfortable."

"...Flatterry will get you everrywherre," the seadweller admitted with a pleased smile. As they came upon the village, the ground (which was really just more of the quartz, as previously noted) rose out of the pools of tea, forming a lumpy hill on which the dwellings sat. As the two entered the village... octagon, seeing as it was hardly a square, finally the locals began to creep out of hiding.

Red, yellow, black, and white bands covered the scaly bodies of the snakes as they emerged. And naturally, they did their best to behave in an idiotically cute fashion.

"The keeper!"
"The page!"
"Have they brought any presssssentssss?"
"That would be ssstupid."
"But they're desssstined to!"
"Bring pressentss?"
"That would be sstupid."
"Shut up! It'sss not ssstupid, I like pressentsss!"

The reptiles practically swarmed Clerus and Maia, tongues flicking at the two of them in an exploratory fashion.

"Wait, how do you know they're the keeper and the page?"
"Uhh... they look funny!"
"And they tasssste weird!"
"What if one of them'sss the ssseer?"
"Maybe the other'ss the hossst?"
"Orrr they're jussst foreign. That'sss a posssibility."
"Shut up, that'sss sstupid."

"Oooooh goodness." Maia pulled back, eyes wide. Seems someone's not a fan of snakes. "Erm, we're the keeper and the page, yeah." She's tense as a coiled spring, clearly not pleased to be mobbed by snakes. Especially not poisonous-looking ones.

Clerus seemed unsure of what to think of the snakes, aside from being affirmed of the belief that their intellects were sparing at best. But on the other hand, they were considerably less hostile than the monsters they'd come across so far. "Is this the parrt wherre we ask -"

But he was immediately drowned out by choruses of hisses and cheers.

"Sssaviorss!"
"You've come to rid uss of the terrible beassst!"
"Yesss! The legendary beasst that poissonss the sssky!"

As one snake, larger than the rest, slithered out of one of the hovels, the other snakes suddenly feel silent. In spite of a total lack of digits, this one had somehow tied a ribbon around his neck, and was wearing... a fez? Unlike the others, he seemed far more studious and skeptical, eyeing these newcomers with undisguised mistrust.

"They don't look like heroesss to me," he declared, slowly circling the humanoids. Rather than turn to face the one daring to question his credentials, Clerus folded his arms across his chest and fixed every snake that dared to meet his gaze with a haughty glare.

"And even if they ssucceed, the prophecy sstatess that the Land of Quartz and Tea will be desstroyed asss a ressult!"

Maia's still hella tense, but raises an eyebrow. "How would saving it destroy it?"

"The great beassst holdsss our world together! Hisss death throesss will shatter the sssurface and crumble all we've known! The only mercy isss that it will be a fasster death than the one we currently face." The... err, elder snake came to a stop in front of Clerus, his latter half coiling neatly around him.

"LOQAT will be reborn, but all who live here now will surely die!"

Maia's been resting her hands on Clerus's head so far, but she abruptly grips it. If he could see her face her eyes are just a touch too wide. "I, see."

Composure. That was what the troll reminded himself was necessary as those fingernails scratched at his scalp. Granted, he had a thicker skin than the woman, vaguely reminiscent of a shark. Which, all things considered, should've been expected. Hair-yanking was a new one for him, and immediately brought to mind something a tad more caliginous. He shook his head ever so slightly to clear such thoughts from his mind.

"So what arre we supposed to do? It sound like we'rre herre to kill whateverr kind of monsterr this is, rregarrdless. Maybe we could just evacuate you people," Clerus suggested. He, for one, found this to be a perfectly reasonable idea.

The elder, on the other hand, did not. "Do you have any idea how long it would take to gather usss in the firsst place? Villagesss lay ssscattered all over thisss world. And the heavenss have already shown that you have done nothing to build up to your gate, ssso why should we expect thisss to change?"

"That's mostly because his server's been in the process a'getting her ass to safety." Maia doesn't realize she's clinging to a possibly-painful extent and so doesn't loosen up. It's getting more and more obvious she's freaked out though.

Clerus held up a finger to silence the elder before the snake could respond. "Give us one moment, sirr." He turned, taking measured steps away from the village until he was certain that his voice wouldn't carry to their ears. Then, his voice barely above a disapproving murmur, he addressed the woman attempting to tear his hair from its roots.

"This lack of composure is unseemly. I would perrsonally rrecommend that you get a grrip in the figurrative fashion rratherr than the literral one. Surrely they'rre exaggerrating the extent of the damage that would be incurrrred by dealing with whatever mythical beast it may be."

"That is not the problem." She hissed back, slowly starting to force herself to relax too. "That banding means a poisonus snake on my world and I've had to kill things like that before."

"Then if one bites you, we'll be surre to kill it and alchemize some kind of antitoxin forr you frrom its corrpse. But they'rre still just consorrts, like whateverr you said you had to deal with on yourr worrld. I doubt they'rre hostile. So do trry to stay calm arround them, you don't want to agitate them." He was being reasonable, as far as he was concerned. There was a solution to everything, even if the thing needed solving was something that involved a lot of pain. Granted, he'd never had the pleasure of dealing with poison any stronger than what a jellyfish would possess (...some of which are more lethal than others, but we'll let that slide), and so his perspective on the issue was limited.

"If you'd rratherr stay behind while I deal with them alone, I suppose that will be acceptable. But you will no longerr have yourr perrch," he informed her, gray lips turning upward in a wry grin.

"Dude, FB, one'a those the size of my fuckin' arm would kill me. One as big as those wouldn't give ya a chance to alchemize an antidote." She explained. "And like hell I'm getting down."

Much as he'd expected. A chuckle escaped the typically stoic troll. "Alrright, but I expect you to drrop down the moment the sailing gets rrough. And we'rre face to face, calling me Clerrus is acceptable."

"Yeah yeah no shit expect to be used as a launch pad. Clerus. Can I go with Clarie?" She grinned. "And I'm cool with ya callin me Maia too."

"I've met less sturrdy launch pads," the troll declared as he started back toward the village, intent upon getting a little more information about the denizen, and perhaps whatever side quests might be available on this world. They'd clearly need more boondollars to afford better gear and the like.

"Maia. So that's how you prronounce it..." He seemed borderline pensive as he tested the name. "Mmmaia. Maaia. MaiA. Okay, I think I've got it. I had it figurred for May-uh in text."

"It's a pretty common name. Not a Jenny or a Rachel or anythin but not like un-heard-of. And haha, I had no friggin' idea how to pronouce Clerus. I wasn't expecting it to be Claire-us."

"Trroll names tend to have fewerr trrends than I underrstand yourr human ones do," the aristocrat remarked with an air of vague superiority. Yes, he was still in the "My culture is superior to yours" stage. As they neared the consorts once more, the elder seemed to debate if dealing with these two was still strictly necessary, but finally relented.

"Ssso, are you two sstill going to attempt to fulfill the prophecy?"

Maia waits until they're back to where Clerus can't react and adds in a harder deliberate yank before releasing his hair. "That's because humans have a richer culture and language pool to draw on." She shot back, before looking respectful.

"Probly yeah. It's basically why we're even here."

The troll harrumphed in response to Maia's... gesture, but did nothing else in reaction. The snakes seemed to take this as some form of curt agreement with the woman's assessment of the situation, and only increased in excitement at the prospect of living to see a prophecy fulfilled!

A similar harrumph resounded from the elder. "Very well, then. Know thisss - the prophecy callsss the beassst Jormungandr, and he dwellsss deep beneath the sssurface. Ressstlessly, he ssleepss, shaking the very foundation of our world! Hisss breath is poisson, and ssseepss up through the cracksss to darken the sssky! Any who dare to face him will be promisssed a ssslow and agonizing death, even in victory! The world ssserpent isss mercilessss!"

Maia blinked and raised an eyebrow, trying to remember where she'd heard that- oh yeah. "We're gonna have to raid Mel's library."

The troll sighed as the elder returned to his home, leaving the snakes to continue to badger the two with nonsensical questions. Clerus ignored them for the time being. "...Should I ask why, orr will the explaining take longerr than the climbing once she's done building up to the gate?"

"I think that's a figure from Norse mythology, and Mel probably has some info on it." She shrugged, still tense as hell.

Figuring that leaving the village again (next time, he'd have to take someone else to this world) would help Maia calm down, Clerus did just that. Once again, he waited until they were out of earshot to say anything further to her. "What is a prroperrly rreassurring gesturre humans perrforrm on one anotherr to asserrt that, in spite of theirr nonsensical trrepidation, the situation is underr contrrol and everrything will turrn out to be acceptable?"

"Uh, hugging, and patting?" She blinked, surprised by the question.

He promptly reached up and patted Maia's head. "It's quite alrright. We've left the snakes behind now, you should be fine." For once, he managed to keep the condescending tone out of his voice, no matter how much he wanted to ooze it.

That drew a giggle from her and she patted his head in return. "Thank you." She leaned into the patting, sighing a bit.

Clerus allowed for a moment of silence to pass before deciding to strike up conversation once more, heading up another one of the countless quarts hills. "Do we want to worrk firrst at explorration and inforrmation gathering, and what Byrross calls 'side-quests', orr do we want to meet up with the otherrs firrst?"

Truth be told, the seadweller didn't much care for the air in the locale - it was stale, borderline stagnant. The humidity that would've normally suited him was offset by how... dirty it felt. His gills periodically stroked at the air as if trying to glean a little more clean oxygen intake.

Maia frowned. "Tempting as sidequests are, maybe we should meet up with them. Or head backwards and start in my land. Whichever. It'll feel less sticky at least." She sighed. "So we could either go back to Glow and Festivities or on to Flowers and Frogs."

Clerus took a moment to ponder the possibilities. Either one felt like it was another one of those damned worlds where the vivid, varied colors were half the gimmick, and he'd be yet again missing out on some of the point. "I'm... going to have to go with flowerrs and frrogs. It should at least have a rreasonable amount of clean moisturre therre."

Maia rested her chin on his head. "Yeah. Welp, we're wanderin' around 'til we can find the gate then."

"It would be nice if it was actually glubbing visible, rratherr than hiding behind those sorrrry excuses forr clouds," Clerus remarked, grunting to emphasize his point. "Maybe the next village will have a hint orr two as to wherre to look. Orr have you rrecoverred enough to considerr what you may need frrom the alchemiterr?"

She blinked. "Yeah I think I have." She agreed. "I think taller boots are the first thing on the menue."

The walk back to the submarine skeleton was an ample opportunity to propose potential alchemy. As it was, Clerus hadn't even thought about why he'd decided to alchemize the recuperacoon with his anchor, but it could likely use something more... logical. And yes, Maia would need some terrain-appropriate clothing.

"Arre you talking about rrubberr wading boots, orr something else?" he asked, furrowing his brow thoughtfully as he wondered how they'd manage that one.

"Yeah." Maia nodded, grinning a little. "Exactly. Like what I'm wearing now, just taller." The ones she's wearing now only come to her knees, and that's enough that the splashes could easily soak her pants.

"I... MAY have some overralls that you could mix them with, but that's assuming no imps have rrun off with them. Orr that they werren't lost prre-entrry. I assume you'll want a rraincoat to go with it?" He hadn't noticed her choice in footwear, honestly, being male. And not trained to even consider such things without someone else bringing them up in the first place. As a result, now was the time that he decided to toss an appraising glance at her outfit as a whole. At least, as best he could, given her location.

She giggled a bit at that, and leaned to one side so he can get a better look. She's wearing what appears to be a vest at first glance, but is quickly identified as a hybrid halter-top and vest by the amount of shoulder it's showing off. She's wearing a large leather trench coat, eliminating the need for a raincoat, and dark gray pants tucked into the boots. "Not really, no, the coat takes care of that. And that might work, yeah."

"I take it you've neverr worrn one of those coats when they've soaked all the way thrrough, then," he remarked with a somewhat vague tone. Why he'd deemed it necessary to wear such a coat underwater was open to discussion, but of course it would've been soaked through under THOSE conditions. The typist, however, sympathizes with the warning, due to personal experience. "But I'll rrespect yourr wishes." That last line was given in a playfully sarcastic fashion. It hadn't taken long to establish that she might be a bit on the headstrong side, after all. "What about something to make yourr weapon a little morre viable?"

"I have actually. Waitin' for the bus and no good umbrella." She shrugged and fluffed his hair at that. "Damn right ya will. And that could work, what'd'ya have in mind?"

"That would depend upon if you'rre looking to make it betterr forr bludgeoning orr forr scrratching out the eyes of yourr foes," the trolls said with a hint of a chuckle. He resumed walking, apparently done ogling the poor woman. "Orr we could trry to finagle some extrra effects out of what few mundane things I have laying arround like Byrross said was possible, but I'm a little shorrt on supplies in that rregarrd."

"Hrrrrrm..." Maia considered, fluffing her still mussy hair before pulling her regular old hairbrush out to attack the mess. "Let's work with bludgeoning and maybe extra effects." She agreed, the soft schff-schff-schff of hair being brushed with soft bristles clearly audible. "Well what have you got? I saw you and Mel argued about action figures."

With hair being the current object of Maia's attention, Clerus refrained from mentioning that his own mane was a little lacking in the recently-tamed department. After all, it'd be best not to have her trying to yank any remaining sea life from his scalp. "Tools, arrticulated figurrines, parrts, some painting supplies that I neverr got arround to using and arre prrobably waterr-damaged by now, eating utensils... I was parrtly wonderring what would happen if we trried to mix it with the base code forr my anchorr."

She nodded, half listening. "Hrm. That could be interesting, maybe a wee bit heavy though..." She considered. "Lesse, what've I got in this thing..." She glanced through her sylladex. "Hrm. Could get a code for one of Mel's crystal balls maybe."

"Trrust me when I say that's a bad idea. I trried alchemizing with a tea pot and just wound up with a frragile anchorr," he said, frowning just a tad at the memory.

"I dunno, those balls are supposed to be pretty powerful, and they're heavy as fuck."

The response was completely out of reflex. "Watch yourr tongue, peasant. Don't use such filth arround me."

"PEASANT?!" Maia's screech is even more impressive when it's right in his ear - and she's smacking him upside the head with that damn brush too. No wonder she used it, it's certainly enough to knock a normal human crosseyed.

He winced at the noise, but immediately grabbed at her when she decided to resort to physical violence, reaching for her arm. "Cut that out, you spastic little wigglerr! That rresponse is harrdly called forr!"

"SPASTIC LITTLE-?! RRRRGH!" She struggles in his grip, though from the feel of it it's to get down. Oh, so that's how you get her down. Of course, all he's got to do is hold on and she's not going anywhere unless she resorts to clawing at him.

"Frrothing rrage doesn't suit you," the troll declared, his tone a mixture of smug satisfaction and disapproval. He continued to hold her arm in place simply to assert that her struggles were for naught - never you mind that he was momentarily forgetting the other limbs he could easily be bludgeoned by. He had half a mind to pull her off and simply dangle her by her arm at this point.

"You started it!" She snarled back, grabbing his hair and pulling again, trying to get one leg under her and get out of his grip that way. She did warn him about using him as a launch pad. "Unbelievably rude!"

"Rrude would be a betterr descrription forr yourr choice in locution, woman," came the growled retort, and he readjusted his grip before forcibly pulling her from his back. It would be an unpleasant experience for anyone, really, considering he was now officially using more force than was strictly necessary, fingers crushing her wrist. "And you will watch yourr tongue arround me, I do not sufferr crrude language in my prresence!"

She yelped with surprise and pain, the grip causing her to release the brush before she could re-captchalog it. Catching it would be a good idea unless he wants to watch her bawl about the ruined heirloom later. "Let go!" She growled, twisting a bit and readying herself for a kick to the balls if he doesn't.

She was indeed unceremoniously dumped into the shallow pool, this one simply up to their ankles. Clerus's other hand deftly caught the brush, which he then held out for the human so that she might recover it. "It is a marrk of the unrrefined to use uncouth epithets. See to it that you drrop the habit." He fixed her with a very no-nonsense glare, not the least bit intimidated by her growling.

She barely managed to keep her feet under her, rubbing her rapidly-bruising wrist gingerly and glowering at him. The brush is heavy and mostly silver, though the handle feels like some kind of bone. The bristles are still straight and soft, and the back of the brush has a raised image rather similar to the Star card. She's a bit more worried about her wrist than the antique brush right this second though. "Fuckin' ow," she grumbled, half under her breath.

A sigh of disappointment left the troll, who now had to wait for Maia to stop being such a damn pansy about what was likely only going to be a bruise! ...That's all, right? Surely Clerus had been gentle enough to avoid anything more! With a critical eye, he began to inspect the brush, taking note of the various details. The weaponized versions were all so radically different... "If it helps, considerr using anotherr explitive," he remarked dryly.

She doesn't answer, cradling her injured limb instinctively and trying to determine if he'd actually done something to it or if her pain centers were just in overdrive after the rush of adrenaline from the fall. She tries to move her wrist and her face immediately goes white and a tiny squeak escapes her.

Clerus blinked. If anything, the squeak was the most dismaying thing he'd had to put up with in the last few hours. "Oh god I..." He edged closer, trying to survey the damage, more or less crowding her. "Let me look at it! I swearr I wasn't trrying to hurrt you!" ...So much for keeping his composure. His eyes widened, voice laced with the sort of fear one might feel when they realized they've broken something important, be it themselves or a prized possession.

She backs up at the crowding, breath coming too fast now as she eyes him mis-trustfully. She's gonna be on eggshells for hours or even days now that she knows one little argument can land her an injury on this level. Bruises are one thing, but Jegus H Ghrist...

He took a step back, giving the human a pleading look that went against his usual stern demeanor. "Listen, I'm sorrrry, I glubbing don't... I'm not used to dealing with otherr people! At least, not physically glubbing touching them! Sometimes it's harrd to contrrol, alrright?! Being strrong isn't always so grreat!" No, his eyes weren't watering, at least not yet, but they certainly did sting just a tad. "And I guess you'rre morre frragile than glubbing trrolls, which I wasn't glubbing rready forr! I didn't do it on porrpoise, I swearr! You've got to glubbing believe me!"

If she hadn't been slightly panicked herself, Maia might have found Clerus's distress amusing or even endearing, but as it is the sudden glubbing and punning just makes her think he's not taking it seriously. She just hugs her arm to her chest and stares at him wordlessly, eyes watering a bit from the pain.

And so his response to her dismay and distrust... is to unceremoniously plop down in the tea with a disconsolate splash. His fingers reflexively search for something, anything, to grab onto, which winds up being some smaller formations of the omnipresent quartz. He breaks off a few pieces, and starts rolling it between his fingers beneath the reddish surface, keeping his hands occupied before he does something stupid with them again.

But slowly, his composure started to return. His gills stopped quivering. His facial features relaxed into their usual impassive state. "If you would like me to carrrry you still, let me know. Otherrwise, I'm headed back to my sub, and you'rre welcome to choose yourr own path, which may orr may not coincide with mine." He forced himself to be calm, with just a touch of gruff. "If you come with me, we can alchemize something to fix yourr arrm." And then he stood in one fluid motion.

The quiet and the disconsolate plopping give Maia time to calm down herself, though she's still a bit freaked out. Watching him force himself not to cry is touching enough for her to realize he didn't actually mean to hurt her. "I, I've got somethin' in my sylladex. Can't get it open one-handed though." She plucks the healing candies from it, but since they're wrapped it's pretty much impossible to open one on her own.

He nodded in understanding. Focus was required to do such delicate work without just outright breaking the candy. It would've been so much easier if he could just fetch some raw fish for her from his own sylladex, but he somehow doubted the sweet-toothed squishy thing would have his tastes.

She re-captchad the candy bag, waiting for him to hand over the little candy. It's soft purple, just like her shirt.

He held out the sweet morsel on his open palm. He resisted the urge to try to feed it to her himself, on account of thinking that she could very well take a spiteful turn and just bite him. That, and he also doubted she would appreciate the sentiment. "Will that be enough?" he asked quietly, frown deepening ever so slightly.

She took it delicately, crunching it easily and swallowing. Almost instantly the bruising clears up and she's able to move it again without wincing. "Yeah. Took two to clear up the concussion but seems one's enough for that..."

A vague sigh, possibly of relief or something else, emanated from Clerus as he started walking once more. Splashing, really. But that was the constant accompaniment to travel through LOQAT, and he was becoming quite accustomed to it. "Why you need it separrately wrrapped is beyond me. I just use fish."

"Fish? Like, raw fish?" She follows, quite a bit slower than he is. She's resumed brushing her hair at least, though it's more as a nervous habit.

"Well, how else would I eat fish beneath the waves?" he countered, never you mind that he deliberately chose a more dramatic way of establishing that his meals were held underwater, often IN it. "Naturrally, the frresherr the betterr!" Clerus slowed his pace so that Maia could match it.

Maia made a face. "Okay your digestive system is definitely a lot better than a human's. Raw food's likely to kill us due to infection."

"...Let me see yourr teeth," he said, voice wavering between a command and a request. He tilted a speculative brow as he looked over toward her, stopping in the interest of being able to potentially get a better look.

She raised an eyebrow a him, a bit surprised at the request, but then shrugged and smiled widely enough to show her teeth.

He nodded in understanding. "Blunt. Like livestock, except forr those puny parrtial fangs," he remarked, completely unsurprised by this development. "You haven't evolved to eat rraw meat. Which is a pity, it's quite enjoyable." A toothy, yet sardonic grin crossed his features, as if he was simply showing off the row of shark-like choppers he called his own.

And then he started walking again, clearly pleased with himself. Being the dominant species was always reassuring.

"Eesh. We're omnivores, can eat pretty much anything. Plants, animals, even bugs in some countries." She shrugged, following still and sort of eyeing his back.

No, he wasn't about to start doing the sort of flexing that would show off his back beneath two layers of clothing, no matter how much Maia may have secretly wanted him to. "Bugs arre acceptable, but they'rre not as common in the rregions I'm used to frrequenting," he explained, tone suggesting that insects were common fare for the peasantry, and were more of a last resort for him. "Though we'rre fully capable of devourring the local florra when therre's a rreason forr it. Can't verry well go without a balanced diet, rrife with the flowerrs of the deep!"

She shook her head a little. "Yeah, true I guess. I grew up on a farm so." She shrugged a bit.

He blinked. What did gold have to do with a balanced diet? But he chose not to question the human. His mind wandered back toward why she wasn't perched atop him, and a sigh emanated from his chitinous windhole. "If you'rre still tirred, orr unsettled, I can carrrry you the rrest of the way. Prromise not to lose my temperr."

She blinked at that, surprised and flattered. "Uhm... If you don't mind, sure."

This time, he opted for a method that would be less troublesome for the woman to maintain, though admittedly it would make it difficult for him to do anything with his left side - Clerus slipped an arm under her thighs and simply held her against his torso as he walked. Reminiscent of how one might carry a child, were it appropriate to their culture, but it was a tad lost on the troll - he was mostly avoiding the indignity of a piggyback ride and the implications of the newlywed carry.

Granted, there wasn't a lot of distance between them and the gutted remains of Clerus's sub. When was Melinda planning on starting building, anyway?

Maia laughed a little at the way he lifted her, shifting to wrap her arms around his neck lightly and her legs around his waist a bit tighter. She can clearly hold herself up if need be. "Hah. Haven't done this in a loooooooooong time."

He tilted an eyebrow as he looked down at her, moderately amused by her enthusiasm. Did humans really like being carried around so much? He'd have to consider asking the paranoid one for verification at some point. For a dude his size, he was actually quite good at walking in a fluid fashion that didn't jostle around the passenger. For that matter, he also found having someone else cling to him... agreeable. But just as the faintest flicker of a bemused smile flickered across his features, they arrived at their destination, barely in time for the gratuitous alchemy scene.

She just grinned at him, letting her head rest on his shoulder calmly and closing her eyes. She blinked as she realized they were there and grinned widely.

Seeing as it was the only device tall enough to provide Maia with a dry space to sit, Clerus placed the human upon the cruxtruder, figuring that she could move about as she pleased if she decided the arrangement was unsatisactory. "Boots firrst, rright?" he asked, clearly intent upon getting down to business.

"Uh huh." She nodded, getting comfortable and chuckling lightly. "Thanks." She scooted back, pulling the boots off carefully.

While she was attending to her boots, Clerus was alchemizing a slew of blank cards to replace the ones they'd wind up destroying using the punch designix. Maybe Byross would eventually figure out a way to skip this portion of the process, but single units of grist weren't all that expensive when one was regularly popping ogres.

His next objective was to find the overalls he'd mentioned. His spare clothing was waterlogged at best, but that was a condition to which he was long-accustomed, and as he created a punched card out of the article of clothing, he figured there wouldn't be great deal of differentiation between wet and dry pants when something was captchalogued.

Maia watched, captchaloging her boots and watching him quietly.

It took a couple tries to get the arrangement right. By going with the holes from both cards, he wound up with overalls attached to boots. But by going with only the shared holes, he managed to make the rubber wading suit that he'd been going for. Oddly enough, though, it was the same color the original overalls had been - green. He just hoped they actually fit her. Clerus brought the created item over to Maia, offering it to her. "I think this should worrk."

"Okay. Could you maybe turn around?" She blushed a little, taking it and raising an eyebrow at it.

"Well, I was going to do that next," he stated rather huffily. In fact, he went so far as to go around the remaining hull to give Maia additional privacy. Granted, to make a show of being properly impatient, Clerus tapped his foot... which didn't make much sound to those with their heads not actually in the tea.

And elsewhere, a certain greenblood was using Trollian to peek. Those crazy viewports!

"Thank you!" Maia laughed softly, pulling her pants off - hellooooo legs - and slipping into the overalls. "Okay, I'm decent. They're kinda baggy but fine."

"I wearr baggy clothing all the time, it's neverr hinderred me significantly," he declared as he walked back out from behind the skeletal remains of the submarine. Overalls, especially those made of rubber, were hardly a flattering article of clothing to be caught in, and so he seemed far less intrigued with the woman's getup this time than he had been before. Be that as it may, he reached up to tap his chin thoughtfully as he considered what other options were immediately available.

"We've coverred yourr issue with mucking arround, so maybe we should starrt on yourr arrsenal?" ...Haha, arr-senal. "If you'd like something utilitarrian, we could mix it with some of the tools I have."

"I'm up for anything." She agreed, captchaloging her coat to get it out of her way for alchemizing. "So that works just peachy-keen for me."

While it may have been his equipment, the woman was now properly garbed for exploration of the area, and could now spend her own grist without getting wet. With this in mind, Clerus simply handed her a relatively standard multitool from one of his shirt pockets. "I've got a few otherr things, if you want to trry them. Blowtorrch, forr one."

"Blowtorch?" Maia abruptly grinned widely, eyes practically dancing. Uhoh, firebug ahoy. She took the multitool, examining it before futzing around with the alchemiter.

He could tell from her enthusiasm that fire may have been a bad suggestion. After all, anyone that jazzed about a destructive force often tended to misuse it. He should know. His following suggestion was a little more tame. "Maybe some mobile computing devices would be perrtinent to crreate? It would help Byrross get to his next gate afterr all." Hopefully, changing gears to worrying about their comrades would provide a good distraction.

"I already built up, but good idea." She shrugged a little.

"I used to have a grrubtop, but everry once in a while I type a little too harrd," Clerus admitted, casting a glance over at the console that was currently his only computation device. "Maybe I can actually make one that's durrable..."

"There ya go." She agreed, grinning a little. "Maybe I can do somethin' with my glasses."

That was an idea that hadn't occured to Clerus, and as a result, he found himself peeling off his goggles. And promptly having to shake his head to stop feeling dizzy. Okay, so the prescription was a little stronger than he was generally willing to admit. But he could live without them for just a moment, long enough to captchalogue them just to get it on the card.

It wasn't until he got to the punch designix that he realized he was going to have to make a fool of himself to read the card properly while entering the code. But pride overrode his willingness to ask for help, and he wound up crouching to get his face close enough to the card to comprehend it.

Maia glanced over and laughed. "Hey. What say we take turns? I can't read mine to save my life either."

"I've got this," he grumbled stubbornly, punching in the numbers. He then took the punched card to the totem lathe, bringing a cruxite dowel with him. As we all know the processes, let it simply be said that he made a standard copy of the goggles, and placed them back on his face so that he could actually see properly again. He kept the punched card for mixing around with other things, of course.

"If you rrequirre assistance, though, I can prrovide it."

"That would be lovely." She admitted easily, not having anything to prove. She calmly handed her glasses over to him.

Going through a similar series of motions, sans the hunching over to read the card, Clerus produces an extra pair of glasses for Maia to wear while she considers what she would like to alchemize with them. Luckily, the things are fairly cheap - after all, they're still the basic, mundane version of optical enhancement.

"And herre's the carrd," the troll said diffidently as he handed the punched item to Maia while also offering the eyewear. "I'll just keep an eye out while you worrk yourr magic." His tone was a touch sarcastic, but not malicious. Apparently, he expected her to have to fuss over the equipment.

Maia fumbled with her glasses before taking the card. "Thanks Clarie." She smiled a bit, then considered the card and her options, before finally pulling out her phone. Apparently that was her mobile computing device of choice. She starts fussing, then glances at him. "Hey, would you mind if I try and alchemize some goggles like yours? That's a really good idea."

Of course his was the superior headgear. But he didn't actually declare that aloud, and gave an indifferent shrug as he handed her the punched card for his goggles. "I can't guarrantee that you'll be able to worrk the bifocal parrt out of them, but you'rre welcome to trry."

"It's worth trying." She agreed, spending some time fussing with it until she can get a workable pair. It takes her quite a bit of lip-chewing and some furious, blistering, might the typist suggest ear-bleed inducing cursing, but she finally gets it.

As the storm of profanity began, Clerus moved far enough away that he wouldn't be able to distinguish the individual words, intent upon not losing his temper with her again. After all, it wouldn't do to full-on break her arm or something of that nature. He shook his head in irritation at her insistence upon such language, but as the stream of epithets and expletives came to a halt, he looked over toward her.

"Arre you QUITE done?" he asked impatiently. The troll slogged through the tea over toward her, not bothering to wait for confirmation. Granted, that was her first item - goodness knows how many more she planned to go through.

She added a few more and a nasty glare at the machines for good measure, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm finished." She switched them and grinned at him. "How do I look?"

It was too early for him to give an assessment beyond the usual verbal jabs. "Pale, shorrt, and squishy," he declared, a smirk parting those fishy lips of his. Well, fish-scented, perhaps. We're not going to go into too much deliberation over the exact nature of that region of his anatomy at the moment, as that would just be downright silly. Clerus did, however, manage to register some appreciation on his face, even if he wasn't going to directly voice any sort of fondness for the overall effect the goggles had on her appearance. She was still wearing rubber overalls, after all, and the overall ensemble would wind up looking a little silly if she tweaked it much more. Yes, that was a lot of "all" in one sentence.

She stuck her tongue out at him cheerfully. "Guess we should work on computin' then."

"Alrright. So you have goggles. You werre talking about mixing them with yourr phone, rright?" the glubgrub asked, already turning his attention to rifling through what few belongings of his hadn't been stolen by imps or destroyed. Alchemy options on his end of things were going to be... limited.

"Yeah." She nodded, starting to fidgit with that too. It takes her less fussing this time, and she tries mixing them until one eye is always perfectly normal while the other gets the computing functions.

...Well, that might work. Clerus grinned almost evilly as he lifted a heavy length of chain from a metal crate. It was easily fifty pounds of metal, but had nothing actually attached to it. Perhaps it had been for when he needed to replace anchor chains? Regardless, the troll offered it to Maia. "Trry mixing that with yourr comb. Brrush. Thing."

"Okay." She's careful handing it, duplicating it before putting the card they've already used there, and fiddling with it. The finished product wasn't nearly as heavy as the offering Clerus had made to the alchemy gods, but at least it was more suitable to an individual of Maia's stature. Not a height joke, mind you, so much as an honest assertion regarding what strains a human should put on their body.

The brush wound up the size of a spatula, in terms of width, and was at the end of four feet of chain. Toward the end where the brush itself was affixed, the individual links had a moderate covering of bristle spikes, whereas the far end had rubber grips. It would be up to the human to determine if such a thing was acceptable.

She considered it, then smirked. "Awesome."

"Just don't hurrt yourrself with it," Clerus instructed in a sardonic tone, smirking at Maia. Granted, he'd learned the painful lessons involving the drawbacks of chains sweeps ago. That was, after all, why he generally held onto the haft of an anchor when swinging it rather than trying to use the chain.

"Of course Clarie." She grinned, tucking her chin down and fluttering her eyes up at him in a way she hasn't been able to properly pull off since she was a little girl.

...What in the bloody blue blazes was THAT gesture supposed to mean? It certainly wasn't one he'd had to contend with before, and he didn't know what to make of it. Was... something stuck in her eye? No, she was wearing the goggles, so unless she'd donned them incorrectly, there'd be no stray detritus.

...Yeah, she probably put them on wrong. Humans. He shook his head, bringing the slate-colored face down to Maia's level so that he could inspect just how well the goggles fit. "Hold still, I'm making surre they'rre not on crrooked."

Maia had to resist the urge to facepalm at this, and held perfectly still, lips pursed into a practiced, adorable pout and eyes wide, just this side of looking tearful and or studios. "Well if you insist..." Jeeze, this guy is slow... Ah well. It's just a game to her right now, seeing if she can make him act adorable again.

And that expression was quite disruptive to his work. He shook his head, gills twitching in agitation. What had he done wrong this time? He hadn't even touched her, and she was already threatening to bawl at him! Understanding the violent currents of human emotions would take... far more time than he'd like to offer. He delicately brought a hand up to poke at the goggles, making certain they were firmly in place. It certainly seemed so, but if she started crying and needed to rub her eyes, that would stop being true.

She reached up, running a single finger along his gills. There's a hint of smile behind the pouty expression. He's absolutely adorable... and she feels kind of bad for manipulating him like that. Unfortunately for him, violent currents of human emotions are strong in this one, and she throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

His eyes widened in... what was either shock or dismay as she latched onto him. Good gods, this one was unbalanced! He staggered backwards a step, having momentarily been thrown off. "What... what's this forr?" Clerus asked, blinking in confusion. The gill that had been stroked twitched just a tad more vigorously, only emphasizing his perplexed state by throwing it out of sync with the other.

"All I was doing was making surre yourr goggles werre on rright!"

"I was teasing you and it was mean of me." She admitted, still clinging like a limpet. He's really quite lucky she didn't jum up when he staggered back, otherwise he'd be half-soaked in tea off of the rubber overalls.

It was a miracle that he didn't start to develop an eye tic on the spot. Exasperating? Bewildering? There was probably a whole slew of words he could've used to describe this human that ended in 'ing', but now wasn't the time to list them. "...Okay, whateverr. Just... go back to playing arround with the alchemiterr." Bent over as he was (due to still being clung to by a certain woman), Clerus felt his position was just a tad on the awkward side.

There's a rumble, as Melinda finally starts building. Apparently she's been watching this entire time. Clerus can probably feel Maia's face instantly turn cherry-red and hot as flame, an undignified squeak escaping her. Oh. Oh fuck. Melinda's never going to let her live this down.

And Maia didn't let go. In spite of the aforementioned heat, Clerus was clearly more intrigued by the thuds generated by his server player. Rather than wait for her to stop clinging, he opted to simply pick her up in the same fashion he'd carried her during the last stretch of their return trip. The drastic difference in architecture between sburb buildings and his submarine almost made the glubgrub heartsick - they were now laying the tomb over his home. Never you mind that trolls don't bury their dead, and therefore that sort of imagery normally wouldn't occur to Clerus. It was still piling permanent structures on top of the skeleton of his submarine.

"Hrrm, looks like Melinda's finally at the keyboarrd again," he mused aloud, not even bothering to think about why Maia was blushing. She'd established by clinging to him for so long that such behavior was likely normal amongst humans!

Maia can only manage a little squeak in reply, hiding her face against his shoulder. Jegus, it feels like she's got some kind of fever, even though she wraps around him again, responding to the support he offered. Maia's just particularly clingy.

The troll was given a moment to both ponder the heat seeping through his already-damp shirts, as well as the building assembling itself around them. Apparently, Byross had mentioned something about ladders being cheaper than stairs, which lead to a series of periodic perfectly vertical climbs after the initial few staircases. That, or he'd just tried to take the keyboard from Melinda to show her how to do it right, but the typist doubts that the woman would've had much patience for such a maneuver.

"Arre you surre you'rre feeling alrright?" Clerus asked, frowning with genuine concern. He brought a hand to feel her forehead, trying to determine the cause of this sudden onset of illness. Or at least what seemed like one. She WAS awfully vigorous in the clinging for someone who was feeling a little green behind the gills.

She let out a little strangled sound. It feels like she's burning up, but really it's just very fair skin blushing very hard. "I, uhm, erm, gugh..."

"If you need some time to rrest, let me take you to an elevation that won't be as moist. You said that you humans tend to get sick when wet, rright?" He was already nodding in affirmation of his deductive reasoning, splashing through the tea while walking over to the first set of stairs. Granted, he wouldn't go much higher with her holding on like this - ladders would be hell without two hands.

"I'm, um, n-not sick. Just, uhm, I suspect she's been watching."

He blinked in confusion. "...What's wrrong with that? We werre just using the alchemiterr."

"... Haven't you ever watched movies? Think about body language."

"I've neverr had a television," the aristocrat stated dully, gills twitching in agitation as he thought about what she was trying to get across. Unfortunately, most of his interaction with his fellow trolls over the last four or so sweeps had been entirely by text, and so the nuances of social graces were a bit lost on him, especially the arts of interpreting body language. "...Is this a gesturre of dependency orr something?"

Maia nearly gapes at him. "Affection, and it has dependent connotations, yes."

Her word choice could've been a little more roundabout. As it was, such a direct description wound up with Clerus dropping Maia in a mix of surprise and... for now, it's probably best to just call it denial. "...Glubbing motherrglubberr, sorrrry about that," he muttered sheepishly, wrapping his arms around her again. That was silly of him.

She yiped, but she's as clinging quite well in the first place all it does is make her drop a few inches and change her grip from 'cling' to 'deathgrip' so she won't fall. "Gah." She stayed still, blushing since regaining her previous position would invovle worming up him in a rather forward manner.

Granted, he was now thinking about previous wrigglings in a fashion related to Maia's current source of embarassment, and it was Clerus's turn to blush. As usual, he was quite thankful for possessing a blood color that wasn't particularly visible against his gray skin. "You'rre going to have to explain a lot about why humans behave the way they do, you know. I don't instinctively know these things, and I'd rreelly prreferr to not... have yourr frriend make assumptions."

Maia's thinking about them as well and flushes an even darker shade of red than she already was. "I can't tell you a lot of the whys, I'm not a psych major. Best I can offer is we head back to my place and I show you a shitload of movies."

"I... suppose that'll have to do," the seadweller said slowly, frowning thoughtfully. He wondered if there was a time limit to these quests they were on, as that would largely dictate how many 'instructional videos' he'd be able to wind up watching. "Just, forr my sake, don't do anything that she would rregisterr as parrticularrly comprromising."

"A-hem." She raised an eyebrow at him, considering their position is already very compromising.

"Oh, rright. But you have to let go, too," he pointed out, tilting an eyebrow down at her.

"Point." She slowly lowers her legs, getting her legs under herself.

When Maia managed to get into a position that lent itself better to dropping those last few inches, Clerus released his hold on her. By all rights, it was a little amusing that, now that they'd actually made some decent wet weather clothing for her, they were on dry land, and headed for more of the same.

Granted, before they actually reached the gate, they'd have to step into that forboding gray haze. The human would likely remember the acrid taste of that air from her hasty entry into LOQAT, but Clerus hadn't had a chance to be quite so intimately familiar with it. Without waiting for her to declare it time to leave, the troll began heading up the next flight of stairs.

Maia sighed, following him. "Eugh... sorry for freakin' ya out. To be honest, I'm just that fuckin' clingy. She knows that."

Luckily, he back was to her, so she couldn't see him bare his teeth as he growled in irritation. "Language. I'm not going to say it again - I'll just leave you behind next time, and you'll have to fend forr yourrself. A modicum of prroperr decorrum is apprreciated." As he tromped about in his heavy boots, the troll left small puddles behind - he hadn't had much time to dry off since the initial dismantling of his vessel by Melinda's hands.

It's a good thing his back is turned because the remark on leaving her behind makes her immediately blanch. "S-sorry." Her voice is tiny and scared.

What few creatures they actually encountered on the way up were merely imps - the structure hadn't been around long enough to have much in the way of population clinging to it. As he dispatched these post-haste, Clerus grunted in acknowledgment of Maia's apology. He grabbed hold of the first ladder, hauling himself up with practiced ease and more than a measure of alacrity. This left him waiting for the human at the landing, sometimes tossing a glance her way to make certain she wasn't having difficulty. Never you mind that it was an amusing angle.

She doesn't look up, scaling the ladder with surprising speed herself. She's quite fast, as she said she likes high places, so she's skilled at getting to them.

...And now she was trying to match his pace? A bemused look crossed his features. Well, if she wanted to prove she was of an athletic nature, that would be entertaining to watch, but perhaps now wasn't the time to get overly competitive. After all, if this turned into a race, he'd hate to discover that he'd left her surrounded by, say, basilisks. As Maia reached the top, he knelt down and offered her a hand to pull her to a standing position.

She raised an eyebrow and took the hand. "What?"

"I'm just helping," he remarked stiffly, barely stifling a harrumph before returning his hand to his side and continuing on.

The stiffness is starting to bother her and she sighs softly, following him slowly now.

The sigh rankled at his thinkpan, making him wonder why he'd earned such a gesture. He attributed it to her not wanting to actually race to the top, which he supposed was reasonable given the fact that, excepting their brief foray around LOQAT, she'd been doing all the footwork, while he'd just been alternating between building and bashing monsters.

As a result, he tried to remain understanding, and slowed to a reasonable pace. However, with each ladder they came across, he insisted upon helping her up the last few rungs. After all, while he may have been something of a haughty bastard, he was still a gentletroll!

As confusing as he finds her, she finds him just as confusing. She doesn't object to the help, and frankly she's enjoying letting him go ahead.

As their altitude increased, along with the frequency of diminutive monsters, Clerus found the air progressively more difficult to process. Where he'd once been able to just stoically inhale what was necessary through passive breathing, he now had to periodically glub for air, gills fanning in rhythm. A cough would sometimes punctuate his breath.

In short, dealing with smog was hardly in his repertoire, and it was showing. But, stubborn as always, he insisted on forging ahead with little concern for how much worse things could get before the gate itself. If he was lucky, maybe later gates would be above the low screen of pollution. The dim glow of the gate was gradually getting closer, even as Melinda continued to build up toward it.

Maia's not dealing with it very well either, gasping a bit and coughing occasionally as well. She eventually grabs a handkerchief and ties it over her face to try and filter the air a little. She looks at him. "Offer still stands to go back to my land."

While giving up was rarely part of his general motif, Clerus felt that... maybe discretion was the better part of valor, given the circumstances. Rather than voice a response, he simply nodded. So they'd just have to go through the second gate rather than the third. He wondered if the local fauna had decided to make a mess of Maia's house already.

He sighed in agitation at feeling the need to retreat in regards to such a... mundane obstacle. But they'd be back, and they'd bring proper breathing equipment next time!

She nodded back, still letting him lead the way.

When they arrive, Maia glowers at the imps there. They're starting to make a mess, yes.

Luckily, the short little monsters are easily frightened by shows of bravado, even if performed by squishy pale women. As they abscond, Clerus finds himself gulping the fresh air with renewed gusto. Sweet, sweet clean atmosphere. Granted, the novelty wears off after a moment, and the sea dweller immediately finds himself descending toward the original body of the house - a scavenger at heart, he wants to see all the shiny dinglehoppers and thingamabobs.

Maia laughed, following him down. "Yeah, it's your turn to boggle isn't it?" She doesn't seem to mind. The house is old and still kinda rickety, but safe enough and the history is obvious.  In fact one of the halls has a series of growth marks, showing the several generations that grew up there.

However, growth marks were very much an alien thing to the sea dweller (and would have been to Byross, as well, but for very different reasons), and Clerus found himself giving them a puzzled look before moving on. The numbers, names, and possibly months next to the marks meant nothing to someone unfamiliar with human naming conventions and calendars.

"You can't blame me forr being currious. You have a lot morre herre than I did back on the submarrine," he remarked, tone just vaguely teasing due to being far too distracted to put any effort into making her feel like a packrat. He could remember the layout from the construction he'd done several hours ago, and inevitably found himself wandering to her respiteblock room. In any hive, this was always the most interesting part, as it was where the majority of personal effects were kept.

Yes, his understanding of privacy was a little limited - most of the other dwellings he'd been to had been abandoned, and he had just been combing for useful materials. However, he took care to avoid touching anything that looked delicate enough for him to break without even being overly enthusiastic.

...And he was still leaving a trail of tea puddles. When an inch or six of water was normal in his usual habitat, the thought of making a mess just by walking around wasn't something he typically considered.

"Aaaaugh! These are hardwood floors numbnuts! Change your shoes!" Was Maia's immediate reaction, even as she herself suited action to words and stripped the overalls off in favor of a skirt and slippers she could change out of quickly. She takes the dripping overalls to the bathroom and grabs a towel to clean up after him.

Clerus's interpretation of the word "numbnuts" was more related to nuts and bolts than to regions of any particular creature's anatomy, and thus he was left just a tad confused as to the particular meaning of the insult. Granted, he still understood it for what it was... but as the gods were his witness, he didn't actually HAVE dry clothes! He even went through the process of emptying his sylladex just to double check.

In fact, everything he ejected (which was in no particular order, as the color code modus was a pain in the keister for the troll to navigate) was at the very least damp. What few sets of clothing he had available were sopping wet, as Clerus regularly, y'know, swam in them. Heavy boots included. Really, he was just making a bigger water mess on the floor, and was left wondering why someone would use such an easily damaged material for flooring. It just seemed impractical!

"...I'm not surre that changing footwearr would have any effect!" he announced loudly as she ran amok in her fervent attempts at controlling the mess he was trailing around.

"JUST - JUST GO STAND IN THE BATHROOM UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN COME OUT." She starts in on her explicatives again, but does manage to avoid using any variation on 'fuck' at least. There's quite a bit about testosterone poisoning and male anatomy, however.

The alien vernacular continued to befuddle Clerus, who obediently went into the bathroom in an uncharacteristically meek fashion. She was spouting gibberish (in some regards. It was refreshing to hear the properly aristocratic term for the bathroom, for starters), and he didn't know what to make of it. He didn't see what she was so upset over, for that matter - surely a few towels would be sufficient, never you mind that along with the water was frequently bits of seaweed or silt, sometimes even oil or unidentifiable sludge. Nobody ever said the troll was particularly clean, and having to keep a rickety submarine together didn't exactly give the most pristine of working conditions.

...But that isn't to say that he simply sat on the toilet when he was in the bathroom. Poking around was second nature to Clerus, and the first thing to suffer his curiosity was the medicine cabinet. After all, every proper bathroom had one, and while the labels on bottles were generally nonsense to him, they were still at least moderately amusing.

"TAKE A SHOWER WHILE YOU'RE AT IT. THIS IS DISGUSTING!" She adds, stomping past the bathroom with a towering pile of towels and his clothing, towards a different room. There's a basket of herbal remedies on the counter, courtesy of Melinda, and mostly headache medicine and such in the cabinet itself. Of course, toothbrushes and toothpaste are there, and a startling variety of makeup is there as well. Not that Maia really needs much, but it's obvious she knows how to use it when she does need it.

The rest of the bathroom is obviously feminine - the towels are all embroidered and shades of pink or purple, the room itself has been painted a soft pink, the counter, sink, toilet, and bathtub are all sparkling clean, as are the fixtures, which are all brass-toned. There are little flower details painted around, evidently Maia's mother likes painting. There are also a few photographs stuck into the mirror. One is Maia and Melinda's senior prom, both of them grinning and holding the arms of their dates; another is Maia making a face; Maia's Mother making a face; Maia and her mother leaning over a bed and holding the hand of an older male; and finally the older male, Maia's mother, and a four-year-old Maia on her mother's lap with her hair in pigtails.

The brass parts to the various fixtures of the room were something that the troll was quite able to appreciate, though it also reminded him of a previously mentioned comrade that, since entering the medium, he'd lost contact with, and was quite certain had met a grim, if somewhat instantaneous, demise. After all, brass was fairly popular in the steampunk genre.

The pictures also hold particular interest to Clerus, as the snapshots give minor insights into the general human lifestyle. He gave a thoughtful hum as he inspected the prom picture in particular, as his lack of contextual understanding immediately causes him to assume that, judging by posturing and the like, the man had been Maia's mate. The troll idly wondered what had happened to him, though he supposed that it was just as likely normal for humans as it was for trolls for partnerships of that nature to eventually end, for varying reasons. They might've grown apart, or perhaps she'd hired an assassin to deal with him so as to inch ever close toward the top of whatever caste system humans adhered to. Yes, that seemed possible.

In the interest of compliance, Clerus tugged off those layers of clothing that were currently clinging wetly to his frame. The cloth hit the tiles with an audible slap, which brought a vaguely amused smile to the troll's face. Normally, that would've been a splash, after all. Once all vestments of polite society had been properly discarded (water slowly seeping out onto the floor, of course), he stepped into the shower and proceeded to turn on the water.

He didn't even bother with the hot knob at first, reasonably used to cold water. Maia likely would've been horrified if she'd watched the water running into the drain - the vast majority was thick with silt being rinsed from his hair, though there was a little blood from wounds that hadn't had time to close properly. Clerus hadn't bothered to make the human aware of them, as he was certain they were minor. The troll began picking out what little stubborn bits he could find out from around his horns, as well as in his hair, rubbing at the skin where normally his goggles rested.

There's an abrupt loud sound as Maia gets laundry going, hoping he doesn't ruin her washer and dryer - she's unaware of her sprite's cability of cleaning - though she's made aware of it when she tromps back past - kicking the door to the bathroom closed with another series of curses, without glancing in - and then gapes stupidly at the freshly-cleaned room for a moment. Seems granddollysprite actually is good for something besides healing items!

Maia's room is quite a sight to see, anyways. It's painted lavender, with darker purple trim and door. Her bed isn't immediately obvious, though the two 'closets' make it more obvious. The bed was built into one side of the room, as a box-bed, and the ornate doors are carved and painted with some kind of mythological story [to be specified later by the typist]. The doors are closed, currently, due to it housing her computer and her collection of... questionable reading material. There's a desk in front of the bay window anyways, and a dresser against the opposite wall. Photographs cover practically every inch of the walls, and even hang from some carefully tacked-up strings as well. There are a few cords of lights strung across it as well, each covered in a minature rice-paper ball, lighting the room slightly when the other lights are off.

Before floating off to get out of the 'children's' way, granddollysprite zaps Clerus's clothes, leaving them freshly laundered and perfectly dry, and takes care of each pair of boots as well. Of course, on the back of the door hang two worn-but-comfortable robes, oone a dark blue, and the other a soft pink.

The first obstacle for the troll, once done rinsing all the easily dislodged detritus from himself, is actually grabbing the soap. Actually, scratch that, he has to wash his hair first. The only problem resulting from this being the simple fact that this is a woman's bathroom, and therefore populated with less than masculine scents. To the troll's sensitive nose, the odors border upon overpowering, and he wrinkles said cartilage nub in distaste. That doesn't keep him from sniffing every bottle of shampoo in turn, of course, though he eventually settles on just using bar soap, for his sanity's sake. Hopefully, he'd be able to douse himself with the usual pungent oceanic smells soon enough.

Another thing Clerus lacks the proper perspective for is water usage - with the shower running full blast (at one point turning the hot knob just to get more water pressure), he's still taking his sweet time cleaning himself. After all, when you live in the ocean, water is quite abundant and... generally not a very costly resource. He briefly considers using the shaving equipment on hand, but ultimately figures he'll likely wind up just snapping them on accident. Ah, well, such is life.

Maia eventually gets tired of waiting and bangs on the door, making it vibrate. "COULD YA HURRY IT UP? I need one too!"

He harrumphed at the impertinence of this peasant, but complied with her wishes. Compared to the meticulous care of his cranial region, the scrubbing he gave the rest of his person was fairly cursory. Naturally, it didn't even occur to him to dry himself off before putting on his clothing again. Who even uses towels, anyway, aside from perverted landlubbers? That's right. Nobody. Straightening his collar, making certain everything was properly arranged (in spite of his lack of understanding of style, the troll kept it all quite neat, as far as angles and wrinkles and so on were concerned), Clerus then opened the door, allowing Maia entry.

...He'd left the water running.

Maia facepalmed. "AUGH. Living room and stay there! Stay out of the bedrooms!" She grumbled at him, pointing helpfully at the rickety stairs. "And don't leave the water running! Shit's expensive." Now that they're in her domain, she's not about to let him get away with anything. There haven't been many male guests in a few years, and she's just a touch over-protective of it now. After all, he's doing his best to ruin everything. "And why, praytell, didn't you use a towel?!"

"Towels arre forr PEASANTS!" retorted the glubgrub as he made his way over to the designated seating area, giving the local furnishings a moderately annoyed glare. While it may well have been her abode, he'd done nothing rude or untoward. It also occured to him that she was worried about paying for water when... well, they didn't even really know why the water was still working at this point.

Maia's just a teeny bit stressed, however, and so that hasn't even occured to her. She doesn't take nearly as long as Clerus did, however, emerging fifteen minutes later in the old pink robe with her hair dripping as she attempts to run a comb through it. She looks a lot more relaxed that she has since she arrived in his land, however.

... Are those bunny slippers?

Clerus boggled for a moment at the act of hair combing, then remembers that the reason he generally avoided it was simply because hair unbraided was incapable of staying put underwater. At least, if one intended to avoid hair clips. His eyes then strayed to the abominations adorning her feet.

"What, prray tell, arre you wearring?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, then held out a foot. "Old slippers, what's it look like?"

"Arre you prreparring to lounge about forr the next severral hourrs?" he asked, voice laced with a mixture of disapproval and vague but undeniable mockery. "I was underr the imprression that we had to be prreparred for inevitable attack, even while in a fairrly safe locale such as this."

"My hair is still soaking and I'm not fucking my shirts up with waterstains." She told him flatly. "Since it's unlikely we'll be doing much swimming I'm going to go back upstairs and get changed." She turns and heads back up the stairs, still miffed.

There's some thumping and quite a bit of cursing before she even considers coming back down.

His brow was raised at the noises emanating from the upper floor, and Clerus couldn't help but smirk in some measure of smug satisfaction. Whatever frustration she was enduring, she deserved it for resorting to such vile language when talking about something as mundane as a stain.

"Arre you almost done?" he calls up the stairs, trying to hide the little bit of glee creeping into his tone from the effects of schadenfreude. "It's just clothing, afterr all! You don't have to fight it, it's alrready dead!"

A high-heeled shoe goes flying past his head, followed by some rather inventive cursing that questions his parentage.

"Trrolls neverr know who theirr prrogenitorrs arre, I'm afrraid that insult's prretty much worrthless against me," he retorts with a laugh, shaking his head. The hurled shoe just gave him cause to wonder what would happen if they tried to alchemize IT with her brush.

Another few minutes go by before she finally emerges from her room. Her hair's been pulled up into a high ponytail, though she's not wearing any makeup. She's wearing what appears to be a skort with long legs attatched to it, a flowery pattern on one leg [instead of the skulls 8p] and buckles on the side with no pretentions at being a skirt. Her top is almost a tank-top, with a panel cut out in the front and armsocks attached to the shoulders. She crossed her arms under her chest and stared down at him, frowning a little.

He blinked in confusion.

"Yourr clothing has pieces missing."

"It's supposed to look like that." She rolled her eyes, coming down the stairs carefully.

Clerus gave her a skeptical look, furrowing his brow. Scratching his sideburn with one hand, he tilted his head, then shrugged. "I still think yourr tailorr shorrted you on fabrric," he remarked. "But to each theirr own." He cast a glance around the room, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

Her face darkened and her look turns absolutely deadly. "Considering I am my own tailor, no she did not." Whoops, he hit a sore spot.

As Maia admitted to having made these faulty clothes herself, Clerus's eyes swiveled back in her direction as he shook his head in surprise. "...I'm... going to bite my tongue on that one," he said slowly and deliberately, tone expressing doubts regarding her sensibilities.

"Wise. Choice." Her tone indicates her thoughts on his manners and an understandable bit of offense.

He folded his arms over his chest, giving her a quiet harrumph that seemed to state immeasurable confidence. As far as Clerus was concerned, if it came down to it, he could take her. With ease. It was only his magnanimous nature that kept him from asserting so every time she decided to take a turn for the impudent!

"Well, then, fearrless leaderr," he said with a hint of a sardonic tone, "What's the next item on yourr agenda, if we'rre done frreshening up?"

"If you're quite done attempting to destroy my house, poking your nose where it doesn't belong, and insulting my taste, I think it's time to go investigate." She said, voice going icy at the confident and sardonic tone he's taking with her. What happened to the cheerful girl who was climbing all over him?

Truth be told, though, the unfriendly mannerisms were something he was actually quite comfortable with, albeit he was used to it being delivered by gray-skinned, orange-horned individuals of varying statures who had gills. Pale bundles of rage with no natural headgear beyond hair were, after all, still quite strange to him. As it was, her cold demeanor only gave him cause to give her a toothy grin.

"Afterr you! This is, afterr all, yourr worrld to explorre! I am but a humble bodyguarrd, at yourr serrvice!" ...He sounded sincere, believe it or not, and at least a touch amused.

One of her eyebrows raised as she tilted her head down just a touch like she would to look at him over the rim of her glasses - it doesn't work well, as she's wearing goggles - expression practically screaming to know what in the world had gotten into him, that her getting a bug up her arse could elicit that particular reaction from him.

He wasn't one to be able to return the look, on account of wearing, well, goggles, too, making looking over the rims just a tad difficult. Instead, he continued to flash those rows of sharp white teeth at the human. "Is therre something wrrong? Hesitation is the firrst step down the path to defeat, surrely we should be heading out and discoverring what awaits us! Perrhaps we'll even learrn what grreat beast brrings nothing but despairr to this worrld!"

Trolls sure are weird. Maia shook her head at him a bit, and headed for the door. "There's a ladder." She noted, grinning and gesturing to it. The platform extends about ten feet from the house in every direction.

As the door opened and the noise hit Clerus, he flinched a little dramatically. After all, fish have sensitive hearing. Immediately, his gills started twitching in agitation, but Clerus shook his head as he tried to block out the noise as best he could. It was... cacaphonous. How could it ever be necessary to play "music" this loudly? As for the flashing lights, well... He was used to having some difficulty seeing every so often, but this was ridiculous.

He immediately took a few steps back into the recesses of Maia's house. This time, he'd at least alchemize some glubbing protection from the environmental effects of the world before going out into them. "I'M GOING TO MAKE SOME EARRPLUGS AND SHADES!" he shouted, hoping that the human would hear him.

She laughed, coming back into the house and shutting the door. "Good idea. If you think it's loud and bright now, wait until we're not way above it all."

He shook his head, trying to clear out the ringing in his ears. Good gods! His world may have been ridiculous, but at least it wasn't a constant assault on the senses! Granted, Clerus didn't have any earplugs of his own - a certain gun-toting comrade would be required to procure the captcha code for those... And a pair of shades to alchemize with.

--Insert brief conversation that involves a bit of back and forth mockery, but eventually winds up with Byross giving Clerus the codes in question so that the greenblood can go back to harassing Melinda and being a shameless pervert/flirt--

It was a little silly to Clerus at this point, thinking of all the things that were being mixed with his eyewear. He fussed over the alchemy process until the lenses came out properly adjusted, still with computational capacity.

The earplugs, on the other hand, didn't need to be altered. They'd be just fine on their own. Clerus made a second pair, then offered them to Maia, figuring she might appreciate the chance to salvage her eardrums. Never you mind that she'd had to run through that land just to get to his in the first place, and had likely adjusted without difficulty.

She accepted them, though she won't use them unless it starts getting painful for her, and prepares to head out as well, still laughing to herself at Clerus's horrified reaction to her land. "Want to go first, mister bodyguard?"

In spite of the ear plugs being in place, he managed to hear enough of what Maia says to understand what the human was getting at. With a shrug, he complied and makes his way out the door, this time actually getting to the ladder without freaking out. That isn't to say that his gills weren't still thrashing about like oars - it had already been established that the earplugs lacked the capacity to completely block the noise. With a few annoyed noises that he was sure wouldn't carry to Maia, Clerus began his descent into the strobe-lit recesses of this strange world.

Maia lets him get a head start before she heads down, climbing carefully so she won't slip and land on him. As they get closer to the ground he can see that while it's all rave-themed, and there are many dance floors, it's mostly a... carnival?! Various enemies populate the dancefloors, and fire-lizards tend the various stands. There are plenty of carnival games to be played, various sections looking like they're from various parts of earth. The current area seems to be themed after a summer carnival in the states.

Naturally, approaching one of Maia's consorts rather than the local monsters seemed the most logical route to take upon entry to the area. Rather than interrupt the... err... dancing, Clerus took the long route toward the nearest stand, which was apparently one of those ring toss games. He looked over toward Maia, waiting for her to address the thing. After all, he was just playing bodyguard for now, though he'd chime in if needed.