Chapter 47 Yousve Done It Again pt. 2 (2/2)
”They're really good drugs.” I said matter-of-factly as if that excused everything.
”What were you trying to do?” Mary's dispassionate face was turned away from our bickering.
”He wanted to form his second core.” Mother explained. ”I think he...may have created a new Word.”
Mary nodded. ”Impossible. Only a true Divine might be capable of such a thing.”
”So?” She pouted with crossed arms. ”My son's a genius.”
”Please don't let your son complex blind you to reality.” Mary flicked her on the forehead as if chastising a child.
And as they conversed amongst themselves Vera took the time to walk over and help me. She offered a hand just as I was about to raise myself.
”You've done it again, Young Master.” She monotoned. ”Another glorious fuck up. And I lost everything this time around. But don't worry, I'm not mad. After all, you'll take responsibility, won't you?”
”...May I pay in head pats, perhaps?
”...”
Well.
She didn't say no!
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”That's it….keep going, you're almost there...just a little more…” Mother's excited whispers were a bit too erotic for the innocent actions. I caught a faint chocolate fragrance wafting from her ripe body.
She sat down in front of me cross-legged. The tight trousers she had worn previously was much like Dana's in how they outline her supremely fit and beckoning figure. But now they were in tatters and exposed endlessly long legs. In fact, they were so worn out due to my previous and accidental use my Shout that they'd become closer to booty shorts or perhaps even a minskirt. Leaving half of her perfectly sculpted butt cheeks on full display.
Right now she was helping me ”meditate.” Giving me a refresher course on the ”Words.” I didn't feel anything special when thinking about them, however. To me the knowledge seemed very ordinary, as if I'd grown up speaking it.
Yet even so, when I muttered them there was just the slightest of vibrations echoing in my body that said they were somehow more.
Something was strange about this language, however.I learned that the Words seemed to be ever-changing. For example, the word for wind. Or fire. The would constantly warp, never staying the same. And despite this I always knew what they represented. The words changed and yet every time they did I would still somehow, some way, remember their meaning.
But they were not just words that meant ”a flame” or ”a wind”
Not ”a fierce fire” or a ”brisk wind.” There were no such distinctions. No, the name for wind and fire encompassed ALL winds and ALL fires. Everywhere. At every time. Like they were just one entity.
Damn weird. Anyway as I started recalling more and more of the language something happened in the center of my clavicle, just under my chin. A heat. An intense, searing heart that made me feel like I'd just swallowed burning coal.
This had gone on for some time already and I was getting pretty tired of the feeling. It itched.
”There! Right there! You're doing so good, keep it up! Keep going!” Mother's sweet seductions continued.
I snapped. ”I'm sorry, are you frustrated or something?! ”
”I'm just happy for you, though…can't I be excited for my own son?”
”No!”
”Eh?! Why?!”
”Because I'm seriously worried about what kind of exciting you've got going on right now!”
”Mothers can be any kind of excited for their sons.”
”I'm starting to not want to be your son anymore.” I felt a vein pop.
”The bond between a mother and her son can't be broken that easily!” She intoned. ”Other men come and go, but only a son will forever remain by his mother's side! Likewise, a son can have and want any amount of women in his life but the only one he needs will always only ever be his mother! In short, no matter what, mothers and sons are an inseparable existence! So there!”
”FIlthy soncon.” Mary, Father and I were in complete sync just then. Mary went on to elaborate. ”It's actually quite sad when you think about it, however. The mother's a soncon but the son's heart belongs to his sister, a true siscon. How tragic.”
”...Hey.” I am a siscon, but she didn't have to make it sound so dirty.
Baz chimed in. ”Specifically the Young Master prefers older sisters. With glasses. And kneesocks.”As expected, Baz understands me much deeper than anyone else!
”Actually.” Vera began in a bored tone, ”The Young Master likes pantyhose much more. And a very strange fixation with something called a slime girl.” She paused after receiving several stares. ”What?”
...I don't think I ever talked about slime girls. Actually, aren't they from one of my unfinished manuscripts? DId she read them? Did she memorize them?! I felt the rekindling of hope.
Father rubbed his chin with interest. ”What's a slime girl?”
”Ah!” Mother exclaimed without warning. ”Son, look! You did it!”
”Hm?” A small fissure in the air appeared before me. ”This...”
”It's about to birth the seed...hurry and reach in!”
”I have to stick my hand in that thing?”
”Just do it!”
”FIne.” With a few misgivings I stuck my finger into the small black fissure and wiggled it about tentatively.
”What's with the foreplay? Stick it in already.” Mother urged.
”Phrasing.” I reminded her, reaching deeper. ”Ugh. Feels cold. And slimy.” There was at first nothing. Then something pricked me. I quickly withdrew my arm. ”Something cut me!” Just then something popped out from the tiny void.
It was a strangely familiar-looking blue gemstone.
But that wasn't all. The gemstone was soon followed by a leather-bound hilt. Then a gold-colored guard. And finally, a silver sword with red--formerly blue--runes along it's fuller.
”Milly?!” I blinked.
I was responded to by a jubilant, child-like voice.
”Papa~!” The Holy Sword cooed. ”I wanna devour the blood of the innocent!”