#adalaide

Robin O'Connery: Oh, is that so? Well, I'd be lying if I said there wasn't something arousing about letting out a nice, satisfying belch myself, so it would make sense that others would feel the same about listening to them.

Arrach: *blushing intensely* W-What? People are... oh my.

Addison Bloomington: Of course they are! Why wouldn't they be? I mean, listen to this! *burps* Ahhh. I mean, if that doesn't do it for you, I don't know what would.

Conner Eve: Um... *runs away while hiding his head in his hands*

Sierra Watson: Cool with me. Only losers kink shame. Like Chris, for example.

Ashley Fox: Given my profession, I really have to room to complain. But even if that wasn't the case, I still would be okay with it. People like what they like; who am I to tell them they're wrong or gross? Besides, it's... nice. Compared to how I was treated growing up because of my burps.

Thalia Orog: I mean. At least someone's getting enjoyment from them.

Carmen Lopez: *face pale* No, they must be mistaken. I would never... no one's ever heard me...

Zoe Popadopoulos: Really? People are aroused by belching? Humans are so interesting!

transcript:

“Cal?”

They nod. “Adalaide.”

She’s changed; her eyes are weary, and her hands are rough and callused, tiny scratches and bruises covering her arms, but her voice is the same as Cal remembers it. “What are you doing here?” She places her hands on her hips, a display of the powerful aura she always had.

“We,” they point at Jereth, “and three others need a place to stay.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. What are you doing in Portingdale? How did you get in?” When her questions go unanswered, she adds, “I should be sending someone to alert the king—hell, I should be going myself. This is a serious breach of national security.

They glance at Jereth, asking a million questions and receiving only a shrug.

“Can we stay the night or not?”

Cal can only imagine how awkward Jereth must feel, standing between two ex-lovers during a less-than-ideal reunion in which one party is seeking shelter before attempting to infiltrate the very palace to which the other party belongs.

Adalaide is—by every definition—a princess. Her warm brown eyes never stray away from Cal’s icy blue, yet they can’t help but feel a chill run down their spine under her gaze.

“Follow me,” she says.

/end transcript

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