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Not all of Arro's problems are related to his weight right now, as a younger, more daring... friend, starts to cause some trouble where he works.
Rangavar has some concerns of his own. Some of which may include this "friend".
Here, have a little Plot™. As a treat <3
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Hive Mind
Chapter 4
Normally when the fat dragon rocked the mattress trying to get up, the Darkal next to him stirred, but today Rangavar merely buried his head farther into the fluffy blankets. Arro made sure to keep the window blinds closed and a glass of water next to the bed. The hungover dragon would undoubtedly need it.
The events of last night came back to Arro slowly. He’d had a few drinks himself, although he’d certainly eaten enough food to counteract them. He grimaced at his belly, still feeling a bit heavy and bloated. He’d have to return the now-buttonless pants later. He wasn’t exactly sure what to tell the cashier, although he supposed any excuse he could muster would be a bit negated by the very obvious, actual reason.
Arro paused to check out his figure in the mirror, looking for the damage done by his binge last night. The good thing about being fat—if there was one—was that when he stuffed himself or gained weight, it was harder to tell. He was just, already fat, all of the time.
He hefted his heavy belly in his paws, his arms reaching as far as he could to grip the bottom rolls, pinching thick layers between his fingers. Everything shook and jiggled constantly. Despite his time at the gym, he hadn’t really lost any weight, just gaining muscle. More muscle. He liked that a lot, but he grimaced a bit at the way his blubbery stomach hung over his fat thighs, and the way his broad shoulders were buried beneath layers of doughy pudge. He’d been working really hard, but not necessarily seeing as much payoff as he’d have liked. Although it was true he hadn’t gained much, either, and he was proud of that at least.
Then there was the ‘problem’ of Rangavar constantly reminding him that he was perfect in every way, or whatever other adorable compliments crossed his mind at any given moment. It made it hard for Arro to hate himself. How terrible.
He rubbed his paws over the broad white stripe down the center of his belly. He was definitely still bloated, but decided to try not feeling bad about himself today.
As he showered and scrubbed any remnants of dirt and grass leftover between the cracks of his scales from yesterday, his anxiety about getting in trouble at work came seeping back. He physically shook his head as if he could shake the thoughts away. He’d know soon enough what would happen. Although, for some reason, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be fired; other than being in a storage closet he wasn’t supposed to touch, he hadn’t exactly done anything worthy of being let go. Written up, probably, but not fired.
He was actually starting to get more worried about Zark. Sending smoke into the vents of a secure research facility was probably way more frowned upon.
Rangavar was still asleep upstairs when he left. Arro closed the door as quietly as possible and made his way to work.
Everything about the research facility was back to normal, as if nothing had happened. Arro realized that he’d been filled with so much pent up anxiety yesterday about getting in trouble that he’d shoved basically everything else out of his mind. He’d forgotten to ask Rangavar about what happened during the ‘emergency’. He supposed he could ask Zark later; the wily dragon usually found what was going on long before Arro ever did. After their ‘punishment’, of course, whatever that may be.
Arro went straight to his locker, wondering about his work uniform, but fortunately it pulled up over his waist just fine. The button pinched a little, indicative of his binge last night, but the pants had been fitting better ever since he’d started toning himself more at the gym, so one bad night wasn’t a deal-breaker for the waistband. He and his uniform kept their steady truce.
He wondered whether or not he should check the schedule for the day, or automatically make his way down to the office. Perhaps if he started his regular rounds, someone would come to get him. Or would they be expecting him, and consider it a bit rude when he didn’t show up, thinking he was pretending that nothing had happened?
He noticed that Zark didn’t come into the locker room, despite Arro being in there for a while as he debated his next move. It worried him even more. Perhaps he should just go straight to the office and get it over with.
Hanging his head defeatedly, he almost didn’t notice Zark rushing past him in the hallway.
Zark looked flustered, in great contrast to his normally calm, collected demeanor. The stared at each other a second, Arro in surprise. Zark grimaced apologetically and pushed past him. “What a day to be late, huh?”
He was right. Arguably the worst day to be late.
Arro quietly opened the door to what he assumed was his supervisor’s office. All of the supervisor offices were in the same, main hallway, and all looked alike, maybe for security reasons. He couldn’t remember the dragon’s name, so he ignored the nameplates and counted the doors on the left side to take a guess at the correct one, and went in a bit tentatively.
Fortunately, as the door opened, he recognized the interior and stepped in. He also recognized the supervisor from yesterday sitting at his desk, scribbling on some papers. He lifted his head when Arro entered, flicking his light gray ears. “Oh, hello Arro.”
“Hi.” He wasn’t really sure what to say. There were a couple of chairs in front of the desk. He wondered if he was supposed to sit.
“Please, have a seat.”
Well. He wouldn’t have to ask. So far so good; his anxiety sometimes made him stammer and stutter. He gratefully kept his mouth shut and eased himself onto one of the chairs, which fortunately didn’t have armrests. His hips didn’t do well with armrests.
“Are you aware of why you’re here?”
Arro gulped. “I went into a storage room where I wasn’t supposed to be.” It didn’t sound so bad out loud, but he wasn’t sure how bad it sounded to the supervisor. Not that the supervisor hadn’t already known. The question was more a formality.
The door behind Arro suddenly flew open. He turned in his seat slightly, his neck rolls bunching up, to see Zark hurriedly walk in wearing his work uniform. He admittedly still looked flustered.
The supervisor didn’t bother to comment on his tardiness. He simply gestured at the other seat, where the other Faerian quickly and quietly sat down.
“I hope you understand that smoking is prohibited in and around the building,” he said, directly to Zark this time. Zark stared back guiltily. “However,” the other dragon suddenly went on, “as a first offense, you only get a write-up. I am expecting this won’t happen again?”
Eyes wide at the unexpected mercy, Zark nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Of course not.”
The supervisor watched the younger dragon for a moment before returning his attention to Arro. “What we’ve decided to do—not myself, but all departments, although I’m in agreement—is rotate schedules so that people have different work teams every day.” He eyed the two dragons and folded his paws on his desk. “We believe that certain teams have become too… ‘cliquey’.” He didn’t have to say so, but it was clear he was talking about Arro and Zark in particular.
“If we’re all in agreement that the smoking stops and breaks will no longer be held in unauthorized areas, then Zark, you’re getting a write-up, and Arro, you’re getting a warning. This incident goes away. Yes?”
Both Faerians quickly nodded in agreement.
It wasn’t until they were partway down the hall heading to their assigned position for the day that Arro broke the silence. “I wonder if this is our last shift together, then? Or at least for a while.”
“We don’t know how quickly they’ll figure out a way to shuffle the schedules,” Zark pointed out.
“Okay, but it doesn’t sound super hard. I don’t see why they wouldn’t roll it out at least by the end of the week, when the current schedule ends.”
“Yeah.” After another moment of mulling it over, Zark sighed in defeat. “I can’t believe I was being that stupid.”
Arro glanced at the other Faerian. Zark was always so sure of himself, it was easy to forget how young he was. How inexperienced. “It’s not the end of the world,” Arro assured him.
“Bleh.”
“It’s really not. We just end up on different shifts sometimes. Everything will be okay.”
Zark sighed again. “If you say so.”
He didn’t smoke during their break that day. That bit of fun had ended. But they still hung out together, outside this time since the weather was nice. The season was on the brink of changing, crunchy leaves falling to the ground from the thick canopy of trees around the perimeter of the small, unassuming research building.
“You should come over,” Zark said suddenly.
“Huh?”
“Before I move. We should hang out. Since we won’t get to see each other as often at work anymore.”
Arro thought for a moment. “I thought you said you were just moving nearby?”
Zark wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, but it still feels like my companion’s house. Y’know. It’ll be weird to invite anyone over for a while.”
“I suppose.” The fatter dragon watched the woods absentmindedly as the two of them leaned against the wall. There was grass back here, soft beneath Arro’s ponderous girth. At this time of day, this side of the building cast shade over them.
He’d never been to Zark’s house. “Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”
Zark allowed himself the smallest smile. “Great.”
Rangavar and Arro passed each other outside the research facility as Arro went home and Rangavar came in for the afternoon shift. Arro jokingly held out his pudgy paw as they walked by each other, grinning at the smaller dragon. The corner of Rangavar’s mouth quirked up and he put out his own paw so that they high-fived as they passed. They didn’t need words.
Everything inside the research facility was eerily normal. Rangavar supposed that most dragons on this floor of the building had no idea what absolute disaster had unfolded just beneath their feet. Hell, most of them didn’t even know there was another level beneath their feet.
He went to the locker room and slipped into his uniform. He’d been a bit bloated this morning from trying to keep up with Arro at dinner the night before, but felt better now. He’d had quite the hangover, too, but fortunately that was gone as well. Okay, MAYBE he got drunk sometimes. But very, very rarely. Regardless of whatever Arro said. For sure.
He was pressing the last button of his jacket through the hole when a familiar, pale-gray shape strutted up to the locker beside his. The tall, muscular Faerian gave Rangavar a friendly grin.
Rangavar glanced up at him. “Hey Kraz.”
“Hey, Rangavar.” The lean shape delved into his own locker and pulled out his uniform. When the ball of fabric unfolded, the pants fell to the floor while he was left holding the crumpled work shirt. He slammed the locker shut and began to hurriedly pull it on, the wrinkles in the fabric stretched out somewhat by the bulge of his shoulders and thick arms. His muscular legs did the same to the pants. After he picked them up off the floor and shook them out, of course.
Rangavar closed his own locker more carefully and leaned a shoulder against it with his arms crossed while waiting for Kraz to finish buckling his belt over the smooth, firm lines of his hips.
“Hey, did you hear the rumors?”
Rangavar pricked an ear. “What rumors?”
“Guess you didn’t, then.”
Rangavar snorted. “Wow, I definitely know what you’re talking about now.”
Kraz stood up straight again as he finished dressing. He didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. “They’re going to start rotating shifts. Everyone in security is going to be all mixed up from now on. At random.”
Rangavar was slightly more curious at that. “Really?”
“Yeah. My companion told me on the way out this afternoon as I was coming in. Apparently it’s super-secret, though. Nobody else I’ve mentioned it to has heard a thing about it.”
Rangavar stared off across the room, absently biting one fang over his lip. He hadn’t heard about it either. He wondered how many people Kraz really could have asked by now, though, having been in the building for all of several minutes. Although… Rangavar supposed maybe that didn’t necessarily mean too much, actually. Not when it came to Kraz. He supposed he wouldn’t be surprised if Kraz could garner millions of new rumors in the span of ten minutes walking down the hallway.
Even though Rangavar was skeptical, Kraz seemed pretty serious about this one.
“It might not be true,” Rangavar felt the need to point out anyway.
“Of course it might not be.” They turned to leave the locker room together. “But it also might be.”
A bit of deep thinking there. “Maybe we’ll hear more about it throughout the day. A rumor like that has to get proven pretty quickly,” Rangavar mused. “I mean, if they do that to our shifts, we’ll have a pretty concrete answer.”
“That’s true.”
The two dragons got to make a security round on the outside of the building today, Kraz doing most of the chatting. Despite the rumor he insisted was going around—which nobody seemed to know about except him—he was in a fairly good mood.
“I’m starting a new routine at the gym. I need to work harder on my arms.” He sounded regretful, like he’d been slacking off or something, but Rangavar doubted that. He’d seen those arms.
“You know, I only spend about an hour and a half each day, first thing in the morning, but I could probably up that to two hours. Or just double it. Then I’d have time to do everything.”
“Aren’t you supposed to alternate workouts or something?” Rangavar didn’t know shit about working out, but was pretty sure Arro had mentioned that before. Leg Day versus Arm Day, or something.
Kraz scoffed. “I have the type one gene mutation, so you know I’m supposed to be super strong. I need to keep working hard.”
Rangavar was doubtful. Kraz hardly had an ounce of fat on him. Gene mutation or not, he was pretty sure there was a limit. As well as such a thing as overdoing it.
The pale gray Faerian caught his expression. “You don’t work out, so you don’t understand how satisfying it is to work hard and get results.”
“That’s true,” he supposed. And it was also true that he’d seen how much Arro loved it. Arro had the type one mutation too, so maybe there was just something about it. Or maybe they were just crazy.
“You should come with me sometime.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Heh. I’ll think about that.” Even Arro couldn’t get him to go. He severely doubted a friend from work could be more convincing.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.”
Kraz shook his head, apparently mystified that anyone would possibly reject the chance to go to the gym. “Well, the invitation remains open.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to hear about the workout I’m planning for tomorrow? I mean, even if you don’t work out yourself, maybe you’ll be able to pick up a few good tips, in case you change your mind.”
“Uh, sure. I guess.”
Rangavar continued to nod thoughtfully as if he knew everything Kraz was talking about. He found he didn’t really mind hearing Kraz talk about the gym so passionately. It was better than fixating on the mildly unsettling rumor he had started.
First an accident in a containment cell room, and then immediately rotating employee shifts? What could have happened down there that would prompt that?
What the hell was really going on?
After he’d gotten home, Arro stood in the center of the kitchen and glanced around, thinking. His belly jiggled as he paced uncertainly alongside the counter. He and Zark had finally made plans to hang out. He was excited, but also kicking himself for not mentioning that to Rangavar as they passed each other earlier. He’d forgotten. And it weren’t as if he could leave a note for the smaller dragon.
He supposed he could use his wristband to call Rangavar later. Or, Rangavar could call him. He’d shown Rangavar how to do that. The Darkal didn’t even necessarily need to be able to read; Arro had helped him set it up so he could press an icon instead. He just wasn’t incredibly confident that Rangavar would remember.
I’ll just call him myself, later tonight, he decided. He was pretty sure he’d remember to do that.
The hefty Faerian set out for Zark’s address, the sun warming his pale-red scales as he walked through the housing community. It was owned specifically by the research facility for their employees. It was meant for convenience, since the labs were in the middle of nowhere. He supposed that was nice of them.
He was a bit embarrassed that he didn’t know the area better; he rarely went outside when he didn’t have to. Rangavar was more familiar with it, sometimes going on his morning runs through here. Arro felt a flash of jealousy at how others could go out in public and just… do things.
Meanwhile, he felt bloated and slow-moving as he wandered down the road. Every part of him bounced and rippled with each step, his gut hanging over his thighs, the tree-trunks he called legs squishing by each other, his steps heavy where his feet pounded the road. He was certain that eyes were on him. Arro didn’t like the feeling.
He shook his head and took some deep breaths. Who cared what everyone else thought? That was obviously easier for the significantly smaller, thinner Darkal to say, of course, but Arro always felt a bit encouraged by Rangavar’s confidence in him.
It actually wasn’t long before he was at Zark’s house. Every house in the community was the same except for color, but the stuff outside also set them apart; chairs, flowerbeds, sometimes a small vehicle—whatever. This house didn’t have much going on, except that the strip of grass that normally graced the front side was torn up a bit. That did seem like Zark for some reason. Zark was never worried about appearances.
Still, just in case, Arro figured he should call on his wristband to be sure. It would be embarrassing to end up at the wrong house and walk up and kn—
The door opened, and Zark stood in the entrance. “Hey Arro.”
Arro glanced back up. “Hey.” He quietly sighed with relief.
Zark sort of jerked his head towards the inside, before disappearing back inside himself. By now, his mood seemed to have made a full recovery from this morning.
When Arro stepped inside, he already knew that the layout of the tiny house would be exactly the same of his own. Kitchen, living room, and stairs visible. It was also immediately evident that everything else about it was different, though; every surface was covered in spare parts and junk.
“Sorry about the mess,” was all Zark said as he slipped into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m all set.” Arro was busy studying the mess, which he realized was actually less of a mess and more of a huge work station; multiple tables held certain collections of items. Although it was true nothing seemed more organized than that. And there were plenty of larger parts and tools to trip over on the floor.
He’d been trying not to stare around too awkwardly, but Zark caught him, leaning forward on the island counter to take a sip of his water. “Yeah, I know everything’s a bit cluttered right now. I’ll have to throw a lot of it out when I move anyway.”
“What is all this stuff?” Arro finally asked.
“I like to fix stuff up in my free time.”
“A job on the side?”
“Oh, no, for fun.” Zark gestured vaguely. “I mean, sometimes I fix stuff up for people, I guess, but I also like to just collect broken stuff and see if I can repair it. Or sometimes, see if I can take it apart.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty boring, I know.”
“No way, I think it’s cool.” Arro’s eyes swept the room one more time.
Zark suddenly moved around the edge of the counter and went straight to one of the tables. “Hey, if you want to see something actually cool, check this out.”
Arro watched curiously as Zark moved some stuff around, searching through the parts. He moved aside what looked to be the cannon of a blaster—How the hell did he get one of those?—and revealed a glass sphere with metal bands stretched around it.
Arro pricked his ears in alarm. “Is that—”
Zark gave him a small grin and twirled it in his paw. “From the storage room? Yup.”
“Zark, you think what happened today wasn’t bad enough??”
The smaller Faerian rolled his eyes. “Well, I took this way before the stuff that’s happened the past couple of days. Months ago, actually. Nobody’s noticed it missing.”
Arro’s ears flattened. “Well now that they know we were in the storage room, they’ll know exactly who to look for when they finally notice one is gone!”
The other dragon shrugged. “They’ll probably think one got misplaced. IF they ever check, that is.”
“Zark, this could be really serious.” Arro put a paw on his face and groaned. “We don’t know what they are. Or how valuable they are. What if every single one is counted because they’re super expensive or rare or something?” He eyed the unassuming glass sphere. “Or… dangerous.”
Zark openly snorted. “Dangerous?”
Arro crossed his fat arms over his chest. “Have you figured out what it does?”
“Well… uh, no,” Zark admitted, finally looking a touch unsure. He rubbed the base of his horns with one paw. “But I mean, nobody’s noticed it missing for months. And it hasn’t DONE anything for months.” He held it up to the light. It did look pretty boring; clear glass, metal bands. Really the only possible descriptors Arro could come up with.
“I’ve tried a bunch of stuff, but it isn’t breakable, and it looks like the metal components can be charged, but I don’t know how.”
Arro’s frustration was overcome by curiosity for a moment, and he took several tentative steps towards Zark’s outstretched paw. “Can I…” He hesitated. Neither of them knew anything about this item. “…uh, touch it?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Zark simply pressed it into Arro’s paws. Arro startled a bit, but nothing happened, of course. The ball was weirdly light, the bands of metal thin; when he looked closely, he could see what Zark meant about looking ready to hold a charge. There were thin, dull lines embedded into the edges, like they were supposed to hold an electric current or something.
Watching Arro handle the sphere, Zark went on, “Nothing I’ve tried has worked. There’s no way to plug it into anything, and it doesn’t seem to have any charge of its own. It doesn’t open in any way. It can’t be cracked. I don’t think it’s really even glass—I’m stumped,” he admitted.
“Yeah…” Arro studied it intently as he turned it over in his chubby fingers. It was exactly the same on all sides. He figured that if Zark built things and took things apart in his spare time, then he didn’t have a lot of ideas to contribute himself, and handed the mysterious item back to Zark’s waiting paws. “I do think you should put it back before anyone notices, though,” he added nervously. As intriguing as it was, they definitely weren’t about to get a second chance at work if it was discovered missing. And theft seemed even worse than smoking, so Arro wasn’t sure that being fired would be the only consequence. Especially considering the fact that they had no idea what the thing was.
Zark took in his wary expression. “Arro, you always worry so much about everything. Just relax for once, yeah?”
Arro pressed his index fingers together. “I mean…”
“And stop doing that.”
“Huh?”
“Fidgeting and stammering.” Zark grinned a little bit. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I got this. Okay?”
“I just—”
“Hey, if you’re worried, I’ll take one hundred percent of the fall for this, if it comes to that, okay?”
“You will?”
“I stole it. You had nothing to do with that. Yeah?”
“I mean, I guess…” Somehow, the idea of Zark getting in trouble without him still didn’t sit quite right. Arro didn’t want EITHER of them to get in trouble.
“I can see on your face you’re still worried about it.”
Arro sighed in defeat.
“Hey, let’s go outside,” Zark suddenly suggested. “I have some way cooler stuff I’m working on out back that’ll take your mind off of things.”
Arro pricked his ears. Maybe Zark was right about that part; maybe he needed to take his mind off things.
He followed the shorter Faerian around the side of the house, his belly bouncing slightly as he fought to keep up. Technically, Arro’s three gene mutations made him both stronger and faster, but that could only go so far for someone with his expansive waistline. Every part of him shook despite his muscular frame underneath.
Arro’s and Rangavar’s own backyard went unused; other than stepping out for a bit of fresh air, the area was too small to do very much with it. Arro quickly saw that Zark’s backyard was the opposite of that. Although the same size, the backyard that sat behind the house was buried in more junk.
Since the items Zark kept out here were bigger than ones inside, some of them seemed slightly more complete and recognizable, including a trio of hovercycles that were parked side by side at the opposite fence. One of them wasn’t hovering, tilted over slightly where it sat on the ground. Also at their side was what Arro suddenly recognized as a Unit, an extremely old type of computer that he’d only ever seen in textbooks. Rangavar sometimes still used the word to describe computers on accident. He’d have to let Rangavar know he’d seen a real one in real life. Maybe he’d think that was cool.
Glancing around, he wondered where Zark could even find half of the things back here, let alone get ahold of some.
The black-scaled Faerian went over to one of the floating hovercycles and patted the flat seat, making it bob slightly. “These have probably been my hardest project.” He sounded proud, though, as it said it. “I can’t activate the platform on this other one, though. I mostly use it for parts.”
“You own all of them?” That alone was pretty impressive. They were small enough to ride down the packed streets of the city, but their usefulness it made it extremely hard to get paws on one. And then there was the price to contend with.
“Well, some guy was having me fix that middle one there, but he never paid me so he never got his cycle back. Heh.” He pointed at a couple of components, which Arro assumed were places he’d fixed, although he couldn’t tell the difference. “I put a shit ton of work into it, so he doesn’t get it back until he pays me. If he even wants it back. He moved away years ago.”
Arro snorted. “So it just sits here? What a waste.”
“Pfft.” Zark shot him the smallest mischievous smile. “It WOULD be a waste, which is why it doesn’t just sit here.” Zark flicked a switch next to the handles, and Arro heard something inside whir to life, while some of the lines on the outside lit up enticingly.
“What, you use it?”
Now Zark grinned. “He may not have paid me, but I sort of think I still got the good end of the deal, huh?”
Okay, Arro was impressed. “It flies and everything?”
“Hell yeah. That was the whole point of asking me to fix it.” Zark smirked as he gestured at the seat. “Have you ever ridden?”
“What? No way.” Arro eyed it curiously. He’d never even been close to one. Never even dreamed of it.
Zark shot him a full grin now. “Do you want to?”
Arro wasn’t home. Rangavar bit his lip in thought. He was certain the Faerian was out at the gym or something, but Rangavar really wanted to talk to him about what he’d learned of Kraz’s rumor.
Somehow, against all odds, Kraz’s source had been correct. Their supervisor had let them know at the end of the day that there’d be a schedule change. From now on, all employees would be rotated so that teams were different each day. It was certainly disappointing—except maybe for employees who hated everyone on their current crew—but Rangavar was worried about what the reason may be. He wanted Arro’s opinion.
He secretly wondered if one of the ‘less qualified’ security guards had managed to sneak to the underground level, somehow. It made sense for the containment cell to have been cracked by someone who had no idea what it held; someone who wouldn’t know that the barest fault in the glass-like material could allow a horrifying threat to escape. Such a thing would be a completely valid reason for an immediate overhaul of the system, as absolutely nothing would be too drastic to keep it from happening again.
But the alarm had gone off during Arro’s shift, so… if anyone would be able to tell him what the security crew had been doing during that time, it would be him.
Rangavar couldn’t exactly explain to him what had happened to the containment cell underground, of course. That was out of the question. He would have to just skim all of the other details when Arro asked how his own day had gone. Rangavar didn’t think that trying to explain wraiths would go super well. Most people would panic if they really knew what monsters were lurking beneath their paws all day.
He turned on the TV to distract himself, already knowing it wouldn’t work. He thought about going outside, but the white background noise of the TV was probably still better than getting lost in his own head.
And on top of all that, even though Rangavar had repeatedly pushed it to the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of ‘inappropriate activities’ Arro had been up to in that storage closet with someone else. Arro hadn’t offered the information freely, but it felt wrong to ask, somehow. Like Rangavar was being paranoid. Was it really any of his business? Arro was allowed to have friends.
Vaugh dammit. Getting all up in his head was exactly what that other Darkal had wanted when she told Rangavar the reason for Arro’s early dismissal, and it was working. And that she’d known it would work especially frustrated him.
When Arro came in later, he was in an excellent mood, which made Rangavar feel even guiltier.
“Guess what I got to do today?” he grinned.
“I give up. What did you get to do today?”
The fat Faerian started rummaging around under the counter, already on the hunt for something to eat. “I got to see a hovercycle up close.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Arro returned to the counter with his arms full of pastry boxes, as usual, which he set down with care. “And even better, I got to try riding one.”
The smaller dragon was startled at that. “Really? How?”
“My friend fixes them up and keeps a few. He let me go riding with him today.” Arro pushed some of the pastries at Rangavar. He always offered, even knowing that Rangavar wasn’t a huge fan. A grin spread over his face. “I’m not gonna downplay it; it was super cool.”
“That does sound cool.” Rangavar was happy to see him so happy. He looked away, suddenly disheartened at the idea of asking Arro about work. It was rare for Arro to enjoy himself so much. He couldn’t just drag his mood into the mud with questions.
Arro didn’t notice his change in demeanor. He picked up a few boxes of empty calories and brought them over to the couch. “Want to come eat with me?”
Rangavar eyed the food and didn’t feel very hungry. But he did very much feel like spending time with Arro. Even if he didn’t get his answers right away, he decided spending time with Arro was exactly what he wanted to do.
Rangavar has some concerns of his own. Some of which may include this "friend".
Here, have a little Plot™. As a treat <3
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Hive Mind
Chapter 4
Normally when the fat dragon rocked the mattress trying to get up, the Darkal next to him stirred, but today Rangavar merely buried his head farther into the fluffy blankets. Arro made sure to keep the window blinds closed and a glass of water next to the bed. The hungover dragon would undoubtedly need it.
The events of last night came back to Arro slowly. He’d had a few drinks himself, although he’d certainly eaten enough food to counteract them. He grimaced at his belly, still feeling a bit heavy and bloated. He’d have to return the now-buttonless pants later. He wasn’t exactly sure what to tell the cashier, although he supposed any excuse he could muster would be a bit negated by the very obvious, actual reason.
Arro paused to check out his figure in the mirror, looking for the damage done by his binge last night. The good thing about being fat—if there was one—was that when he stuffed himself or gained weight, it was harder to tell. He was just, already fat, all of the time.
He hefted his heavy belly in his paws, his arms reaching as far as he could to grip the bottom rolls, pinching thick layers between his fingers. Everything shook and jiggled constantly. Despite his time at the gym, he hadn’t really lost any weight, just gaining muscle. More muscle. He liked that a lot, but he grimaced a bit at the way his blubbery stomach hung over his fat thighs, and the way his broad shoulders were buried beneath layers of doughy pudge. He’d been working really hard, but not necessarily seeing as much payoff as he’d have liked. Although it was true he hadn’t gained much, either, and he was proud of that at least.
Then there was the ‘problem’ of Rangavar constantly reminding him that he was perfect in every way, or whatever other adorable compliments crossed his mind at any given moment. It made it hard for Arro to hate himself. How terrible.
He rubbed his paws over the broad white stripe down the center of his belly. He was definitely still bloated, but decided to try not feeling bad about himself today.
As he showered and scrubbed any remnants of dirt and grass leftover between the cracks of his scales from yesterday, his anxiety about getting in trouble at work came seeping back. He physically shook his head as if he could shake the thoughts away. He’d know soon enough what would happen. Although, for some reason, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be fired; other than being in a storage closet he wasn’t supposed to touch, he hadn’t exactly done anything worthy of being let go. Written up, probably, but not fired.
He was actually starting to get more worried about Zark. Sending smoke into the vents of a secure research facility was probably way more frowned upon.
Rangavar was still asleep upstairs when he left. Arro closed the door as quietly as possible and made his way to work.
Everything about the research facility was back to normal, as if nothing had happened. Arro realized that he’d been filled with so much pent up anxiety yesterday about getting in trouble that he’d shoved basically everything else out of his mind. He’d forgotten to ask Rangavar about what happened during the ‘emergency’. He supposed he could ask Zark later; the wily dragon usually found what was going on long before Arro ever did. After their ‘punishment’, of course, whatever that may be.
Arro went straight to his locker, wondering about his work uniform, but fortunately it pulled up over his waist just fine. The button pinched a little, indicative of his binge last night, but the pants had been fitting better ever since he’d started toning himself more at the gym, so one bad night wasn’t a deal-breaker for the waistband. He and his uniform kept their steady truce.
He wondered whether or not he should check the schedule for the day, or automatically make his way down to the office. Perhaps if he started his regular rounds, someone would come to get him. Or would they be expecting him, and consider it a bit rude when he didn’t show up, thinking he was pretending that nothing had happened?
He noticed that Zark didn’t come into the locker room, despite Arro being in there for a while as he debated his next move. It worried him even more. Perhaps he should just go straight to the office and get it over with.
Hanging his head defeatedly, he almost didn’t notice Zark rushing past him in the hallway.
Zark looked flustered, in great contrast to his normally calm, collected demeanor. The stared at each other a second, Arro in surprise. Zark grimaced apologetically and pushed past him. “What a day to be late, huh?”
He was right. Arguably the worst day to be late.
Arro quietly opened the door to what he assumed was his supervisor’s office. All of the supervisor offices were in the same, main hallway, and all looked alike, maybe for security reasons. He couldn’t remember the dragon’s name, so he ignored the nameplates and counted the doors on the left side to take a guess at the correct one, and went in a bit tentatively.
Fortunately, as the door opened, he recognized the interior and stepped in. He also recognized the supervisor from yesterday sitting at his desk, scribbling on some papers. He lifted his head when Arro entered, flicking his light gray ears. “Oh, hello Arro.”
“Hi.” He wasn’t really sure what to say. There were a couple of chairs in front of the desk. He wondered if he was supposed to sit.
“Please, have a seat.”
Well. He wouldn’t have to ask. So far so good; his anxiety sometimes made him stammer and stutter. He gratefully kept his mouth shut and eased himself onto one of the chairs, which fortunately didn’t have armrests. His hips didn’t do well with armrests.
“Are you aware of why you’re here?”
Arro gulped. “I went into a storage room where I wasn’t supposed to be.” It didn’t sound so bad out loud, but he wasn’t sure how bad it sounded to the supervisor. Not that the supervisor hadn’t already known. The question was more a formality.
The door behind Arro suddenly flew open. He turned in his seat slightly, his neck rolls bunching up, to see Zark hurriedly walk in wearing his work uniform. He admittedly still looked flustered.
The supervisor didn’t bother to comment on his tardiness. He simply gestured at the other seat, where the other Faerian quickly and quietly sat down.
“I hope you understand that smoking is prohibited in and around the building,” he said, directly to Zark this time. Zark stared back guiltily. “However,” the other dragon suddenly went on, “as a first offense, you only get a write-up. I am expecting this won’t happen again?”
Eyes wide at the unexpected mercy, Zark nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Of course not.”
The supervisor watched the younger dragon for a moment before returning his attention to Arro. “What we’ve decided to do—not myself, but all departments, although I’m in agreement—is rotate schedules so that people have different work teams every day.” He eyed the two dragons and folded his paws on his desk. “We believe that certain teams have become too… ‘cliquey’.” He didn’t have to say so, but it was clear he was talking about Arro and Zark in particular.
“If we’re all in agreement that the smoking stops and breaks will no longer be held in unauthorized areas, then Zark, you’re getting a write-up, and Arro, you’re getting a warning. This incident goes away. Yes?”
Both Faerians quickly nodded in agreement.
It wasn’t until they were partway down the hall heading to their assigned position for the day that Arro broke the silence. “I wonder if this is our last shift together, then? Or at least for a while.”
“We don’t know how quickly they’ll figure out a way to shuffle the schedules,” Zark pointed out.
“Okay, but it doesn’t sound super hard. I don’t see why they wouldn’t roll it out at least by the end of the week, when the current schedule ends.”
“Yeah.” After another moment of mulling it over, Zark sighed in defeat. “I can’t believe I was being that stupid.”
Arro glanced at the other Faerian. Zark was always so sure of himself, it was easy to forget how young he was. How inexperienced. “It’s not the end of the world,” Arro assured him.
“Bleh.”
“It’s really not. We just end up on different shifts sometimes. Everything will be okay.”
Zark sighed again. “If you say so.”
He didn’t smoke during their break that day. That bit of fun had ended. But they still hung out together, outside this time since the weather was nice. The season was on the brink of changing, crunchy leaves falling to the ground from the thick canopy of trees around the perimeter of the small, unassuming research building.
“You should come over,” Zark said suddenly.
“Huh?”
“Before I move. We should hang out. Since we won’t get to see each other as often at work anymore.”
Arro thought for a moment. “I thought you said you were just moving nearby?”
Zark wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, but it still feels like my companion’s house. Y’know. It’ll be weird to invite anyone over for a while.”
“I suppose.” The fatter dragon watched the woods absentmindedly as the two of them leaned against the wall. There was grass back here, soft beneath Arro’s ponderous girth. At this time of day, this side of the building cast shade over them.
He’d never been to Zark’s house. “Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”
Zark allowed himself the smallest smile. “Great.”
~Rangavar and Arro passed each other outside the research facility as Arro went home and Rangavar came in for the afternoon shift. Arro jokingly held out his pudgy paw as they walked by each other, grinning at the smaller dragon. The corner of Rangavar’s mouth quirked up and he put out his own paw so that they high-fived as they passed. They didn’t need words.
Everything inside the research facility was eerily normal. Rangavar supposed that most dragons on this floor of the building had no idea what absolute disaster had unfolded just beneath their feet. Hell, most of them didn’t even know there was another level beneath their feet.
He went to the locker room and slipped into his uniform. He’d been a bit bloated this morning from trying to keep up with Arro at dinner the night before, but felt better now. He’d had quite the hangover, too, but fortunately that was gone as well. Okay, MAYBE he got drunk sometimes. But very, very rarely. Regardless of whatever Arro said. For sure.
He was pressing the last button of his jacket through the hole when a familiar, pale-gray shape strutted up to the locker beside his. The tall, muscular Faerian gave Rangavar a friendly grin.
Rangavar glanced up at him. “Hey Kraz.”
“Hey, Rangavar.” The lean shape delved into his own locker and pulled out his uniform. When the ball of fabric unfolded, the pants fell to the floor while he was left holding the crumpled work shirt. He slammed the locker shut and began to hurriedly pull it on, the wrinkles in the fabric stretched out somewhat by the bulge of his shoulders and thick arms. His muscular legs did the same to the pants. After he picked them up off the floor and shook them out, of course.
Rangavar closed his own locker more carefully and leaned a shoulder against it with his arms crossed while waiting for Kraz to finish buckling his belt over the smooth, firm lines of his hips.
“Hey, did you hear the rumors?”
Rangavar pricked an ear. “What rumors?”
“Guess you didn’t, then.”
Rangavar snorted. “Wow, I definitely know what you’re talking about now.”
Kraz stood up straight again as he finished dressing. He didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. “They’re going to start rotating shifts. Everyone in security is going to be all mixed up from now on. At random.”
Rangavar was slightly more curious at that. “Really?”
“Yeah. My companion told me on the way out this afternoon as I was coming in. Apparently it’s super-secret, though. Nobody else I’ve mentioned it to has heard a thing about it.”
Rangavar stared off across the room, absently biting one fang over his lip. He hadn’t heard about it either. He wondered how many people Kraz really could have asked by now, though, having been in the building for all of several minutes. Although… Rangavar supposed maybe that didn’t necessarily mean too much, actually. Not when it came to Kraz. He supposed he wouldn’t be surprised if Kraz could garner millions of new rumors in the span of ten minutes walking down the hallway.
Even though Rangavar was skeptical, Kraz seemed pretty serious about this one.
“It might not be true,” Rangavar felt the need to point out anyway.
“Of course it might not be.” They turned to leave the locker room together. “But it also might be.”
A bit of deep thinking there. “Maybe we’ll hear more about it throughout the day. A rumor like that has to get proven pretty quickly,” Rangavar mused. “I mean, if they do that to our shifts, we’ll have a pretty concrete answer.”
“That’s true.”
The two dragons got to make a security round on the outside of the building today, Kraz doing most of the chatting. Despite the rumor he insisted was going around—which nobody seemed to know about except him—he was in a fairly good mood.
“I’m starting a new routine at the gym. I need to work harder on my arms.” He sounded regretful, like he’d been slacking off or something, but Rangavar doubted that. He’d seen those arms.
“You know, I only spend about an hour and a half each day, first thing in the morning, but I could probably up that to two hours. Or just double it. Then I’d have time to do everything.”
“Aren’t you supposed to alternate workouts or something?” Rangavar didn’t know shit about working out, but was pretty sure Arro had mentioned that before. Leg Day versus Arm Day, or something.
Kraz scoffed. “I have the type one gene mutation, so you know I’m supposed to be super strong. I need to keep working hard.”
Rangavar was doubtful. Kraz hardly had an ounce of fat on him. Gene mutation or not, he was pretty sure there was a limit. As well as such a thing as overdoing it.
The pale gray Faerian caught his expression. “You don’t work out, so you don’t understand how satisfying it is to work hard and get results.”
“That’s true,” he supposed. And it was also true that he’d seen how much Arro loved it. Arro had the type one mutation too, so maybe there was just something about it. Or maybe they were just crazy.
“You should come with me sometime.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Heh. I’ll think about that.” Even Arro couldn’t get him to go. He severely doubted a friend from work could be more convincing.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.”
Kraz shook his head, apparently mystified that anyone would possibly reject the chance to go to the gym. “Well, the invitation remains open.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to hear about the workout I’m planning for tomorrow? I mean, even if you don’t work out yourself, maybe you’ll be able to pick up a few good tips, in case you change your mind.”
“Uh, sure. I guess.”
Rangavar continued to nod thoughtfully as if he knew everything Kraz was talking about. He found he didn’t really mind hearing Kraz talk about the gym so passionately. It was better than fixating on the mildly unsettling rumor he had started.
First an accident in a containment cell room, and then immediately rotating employee shifts? What could have happened down there that would prompt that?
What the hell was really going on?
~After he’d gotten home, Arro stood in the center of the kitchen and glanced around, thinking. His belly jiggled as he paced uncertainly alongside the counter. He and Zark had finally made plans to hang out. He was excited, but also kicking himself for not mentioning that to Rangavar as they passed each other earlier. He’d forgotten. And it weren’t as if he could leave a note for the smaller dragon.
He supposed he could use his wristband to call Rangavar later. Or, Rangavar could call him. He’d shown Rangavar how to do that. The Darkal didn’t even necessarily need to be able to read; Arro had helped him set it up so he could press an icon instead. He just wasn’t incredibly confident that Rangavar would remember.
I’ll just call him myself, later tonight, he decided. He was pretty sure he’d remember to do that.
The hefty Faerian set out for Zark’s address, the sun warming his pale-red scales as he walked through the housing community. It was owned specifically by the research facility for their employees. It was meant for convenience, since the labs were in the middle of nowhere. He supposed that was nice of them.
He was a bit embarrassed that he didn’t know the area better; he rarely went outside when he didn’t have to. Rangavar was more familiar with it, sometimes going on his morning runs through here. Arro felt a flash of jealousy at how others could go out in public and just… do things.
Meanwhile, he felt bloated and slow-moving as he wandered down the road. Every part of him bounced and rippled with each step, his gut hanging over his thighs, the tree-trunks he called legs squishing by each other, his steps heavy where his feet pounded the road. He was certain that eyes were on him. Arro didn’t like the feeling.
He shook his head and took some deep breaths. Who cared what everyone else thought? That was obviously easier for the significantly smaller, thinner Darkal to say, of course, but Arro always felt a bit encouraged by Rangavar’s confidence in him.
It actually wasn’t long before he was at Zark’s house. Every house in the community was the same except for color, but the stuff outside also set them apart; chairs, flowerbeds, sometimes a small vehicle—whatever. This house didn’t have much going on, except that the strip of grass that normally graced the front side was torn up a bit. That did seem like Zark for some reason. Zark was never worried about appearances.
Still, just in case, Arro figured he should call on his wristband to be sure. It would be embarrassing to end up at the wrong house and walk up and kn—
The door opened, and Zark stood in the entrance. “Hey Arro.”
Arro glanced back up. “Hey.” He quietly sighed with relief.
Zark sort of jerked his head towards the inside, before disappearing back inside himself. By now, his mood seemed to have made a full recovery from this morning.
When Arro stepped inside, he already knew that the layout of the tiny house would be exactly the same of his own. Kitchen, living room, and stairs visible. It was also immediately evident that everything else about it was different, though; every surface was covered in spare parts and junk.
“Sorry about the mess,” was all Zark said as he slipped into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m all set.” Arro was busy studying the mess, which he realized was actually less of a mess and more of a huge work station; multiple tables held certain collections of items. Although it was true nothing seemed more organized than that. And there were plenty of larger parts and tools to trip over on the floor.
He’d been trying not to stare around too awkwardly, but Zark caught him, leaning forward on the island counter to take a sip of his water. “Yeah, I know everything’s a bit cluttered right now. I’ll have to throw a lot of it out when I move anyway.”
“What is all this stuff?” Arro finally asked.
“I like to fix stuff up in my free time.”
“A job on the side?”
“Oh, no, for fun.” Zark gestured vaguely. “I mean, sometimes I fix stuff up for people, I guess, but I also like to just collect broken stuff and see if I can repair it. Or sometimes, see if I can take it apart.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty boring, I know.”
“No way, I think it’s cool.” Arro’s eyes swept the room one more time.
Zark suddenly moved around the edge of the counter and went straight to one of the tables. “Hey, if you want to see something actually cool, check this out.”
Arro watched curiously as Zark moved some stuff around, searching through the parts. He moved aside what looked to be the cannon of a blaster—How the hell did he get one of those?—and revealed a glass sphere with metal bands stretched around it.
Arro pricked his ears in alarm. “Is that—”
Zark gave him a small grin and twirled it in his paw. “From the storage room? Yup.”
“Zark, you think what happened today wasn’t bad enough??”
The smaller Faerian rolled his eyes. “Well, I took this way before the stuff that’s happened the past couple of days. Months ago, actually. Nobody’s noticed it missing.”
Arro’s ears flattened. “Well now that they know we were in the storage room, they’ll know exactly who to look for when they finally notice one is gone!”
The other dragon shrugged. “They’ll probably think one got misplaced. IF they ever check, that is.”
“Zark, this could be really serious.” Arro put a paw on his face and groaned. “We don’t know what they are. Or how valuable they are. What if every single one is counted because they’re super expensive or rare or something?” He eyed the unassuming glass sphere. “Or… dangerous.”
Zark openly snorted. “Dangerous?”
Arro crossed his fat arms over his chest. “Have you figured out what it does?”
“Well… uh, no,” Zark admitted, finally looking a touch unsure. He rubbed the base of his horns with one paw. “But I mean, nobody’s noticed it missing for months. And it hasn’t DONE anything for months.” He held it up to the light. It did look pretty boring; clear glass, metal bands. Really the only possible descriptors Arro could come up with.
“I’ve tried a bunch of stuff, but it isn’t breakable, and it looks like the metal components can be charged, but I don’t know how.”
Arro’s frustration was overcome by curiosity for a moment, and he took several tentative steps towards Zark’s outstretched paw. “Can I…” He hesitated. Neither of them knew anything about this item. “…uh, touch it?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Zark simply pressed it into Arro’s paws. Arro startled a bit, but nothing happened, of course. The ball was weirdly light, the bands of metal thin; when he looked closely, he could see what Zark meant about looking ready to hold a charge. There were thin, dull lines embedded into the edges, like they were supposed to hold an electric current or something.
Watching Arro handle the sphere, Zark went on, “Nothing I’ve tried has worked. There’s no way to plug it into anything, and it doesn’t seem to have any charge of its own. It doesn’t open in any way. It can’t be cracked. I don’t think it’s really even glass—I’m stumped,” he admitted.
“Yeah…” Arro studied it intently as he turned it over in his chubby fingers. It was exactly the same on all sides. He figured that if Zark built things and took things apart in his spare time, then he didn’t have a lot of ideas to contribute himself, and handed the mysterious item back to Zark’s waiting paws. “I do think you should put it back before anyone notices, though,” he added nervously. As intriguing as it was, they definitely weren’t about to get a second chance at work if it was discovered missing. And theft seemed even worse than smoking, so Arro wasn’t sure that being fired would be the only consequence. Especially considering the fact that they had no idea what the thing was.
Zark took in his wary expression. “Arro, you always worry so much about everything. Just relax for once, yeah?”
Arro pressed his index fingers together. “I mean…”
“And stop doing that.”
“Huh?”
“Fidgeting and stammering.” Zark grinned a little bit. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I got this. Okay?”
“I just—”
“Hey, if you’re worried, I’ll take one hundred percent of the fall for this, if it comes to that, okay?”
“You will?”
“I stole it. You had nothing to do with that. Yeah?”
“I mean, I guess…” Somehow, the idea of Zark getting in trouble without him still didn’t sit quite right. Arro didn’t want EITHER of them to get in trouble.
“I can see on your face you’re still worried about it.”
Arro sighed in defeat.
“Hey, let’s go outside,” Zark suddenly suggested. “I have some way cooler stuff I’m working on out back that’ll take your mind off of things.”
Arro pricked his ears. Maybe Zark was right about that part; maybe he needed to take his mind off things.
He followed the shorter Faerian around the side of the house, his belly bouncing slightly as he fought to keep up. Technically, Arro’s three gene mutations made him both stronger and faster, but that could only go so far for someone with his expansive waistline. Every part of him shook despite his muscular frame underneath.
Arro’s and Rangavar’s own backyard went unused; other than stepping out for a bit of fresh air, the area was too small to do very much with it. Arro quickly saw that Zark’s backyard was the opposite of that. Although the same size, the backyard that sat behind the house was buried in more junk.
Since the items Zark kept out here were bigger than ones inside, some of them seemed slightly more complete and recognizable, including a trio of hovercycles that were parked side by side at the opposite fence. One of them wasn’t hovering, tilted over slightly where it sat on the ground. Also at their side was what Arro suddenly recognized as a Unit, an extremely old type of computer that he’d only ever seen in textbooks. Rangavar sometimes still used the word to describe computers on accident. He’d have to let Rangavar know he’d seen a real one in real life. Maybe he’d think that was cool.
Glancing around, he wondered where Zark could even find half of the things back here, let alone get ahold of some.
The black-scaled Faerian went over to one of the floating hovercycles and patted the flat seat, making it bob slightly. “These have probably been my hardest project.” He sounded proud, though, as it said it. “I can’t activate the platform on this other one, though. I mostly use it for parts.”
“You own all of them?” That alone was pretty impressive. They were small enough to ride down the packed streets of the city, but their usefulness it made it extremely hard to get paws on one. And then there was the price to contend with.
“Well, some guy was having me fix that middle one there, but he never paid me so he never got his cycle back. Heh.” He pointed at a couple of components, which Arro assumed were places he’d fixed, although he couldn’t tell the difference. “I put a shit ton of work into it, so he doesn’t get it back until he pays me. If he even wants it back. He moved away years ago.”
Arro snorted. “So it just sits here? What a waste.”
“Pfft.” Zark shot him the smallest mischievous smile. “It WOULD be a waste, which is why it doesn’t just sit here.” Zark flicked a switch next to the handles, and Arro heard something inside whir to life, while some of the lines on the outside lit up enticingly.
“What, you use it?”
Now Zark grinned. “He may not have paid me, but I sort of think I still got the good end of the deal, huh?”
Okay, Arro was impressed. “It flies and everything?”
“Hell yeah. That was the whole point of asking me to fix it.” Zark smirked as he gestured at the seat. “Have you ever ridden?”
“What? No way.” Arro eyed it curiously. He’d never even been close to one. Never even dreamed of it.
Zark shot him a full grin now. “Do you want to?”
~Arro wasn’t home. Rangavar bit his lip in thought. He was certain the Faerian was out at the gym or something, but Rangavar really wanted to talk to him about what he’d learned of Kraz’s rumor.
Somehow, against all odds, Kraz’s source had been correct. Their supervisor had let them know at the end of the day that there’d be a schedule change. From now on, all employees would be rotated so that teams were different each day. It was certainly disappointing—except maybe for employees who hated everyone on their current crew—but Rangavar was worried about what the reason may be. He wanted Arro’s opinion.
He secretly wondered if one of the ‘less qualified’ security guards had managed to sneak to the underground level, somehow. It made sense for the containment cell to have been cracked by someone who had no idea what it held; someone who wouldn’t know that the barest fault in the glass-like material could allow a horrifying threat to escape. Such a thing would be a completely valid reason for an immediate overhaul of the system, as absolutely nothing would be too drastic to keep it from happening again.
But the alarm had gone off during Arro’s shift, so… if anyone would be able to tell him what the security crew had been doing during that time, it would be him.
Rangavar couldn’t exactly explain to him what had happened to the containment cell underground, of course. That was out of the question. He would have to just skim all of the other details when Arro asked how his own day had gone. Rangavar didn’t think that trying to explain wraiths would go super well. Most people would panic if they really knew what monsters were lurking beneath their paws all day.
He turned on the TV to distract himself, already knowing it wouldn’t work. He thought about going outside, but the white background noise of the TV was probably still better than getting lost in his own head.
And on top of all that, even though Rangavar had repeatedly pushed it to the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of ‘inappropriate activities’ Arro had been up to in that storage closet with someone else. Arro hadn’t offered the information freely, but it felt wrong to ask, somehow. Like Rangavar was being paranoid. Was it really any of his business? Arro was allowed to have friends.
Vaugh dammit. Getting all up in his head was exactly what that other Darkal had wanted when she told Rangavar the reason for Arro’s early dismissal, and it was working. And that she’d known it would work especially frustrated him.
When Arro came in later, he was in an excellent mood, which made Rangavar feel even guiltier.
“Guess what I got to do today?” he grinned.
“I give up. What did you get to do today?”
The fat Faerian started rummaging around under the counter, already on the hunt for something to eat. “I got to see a hovercycle up close.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Arro returned to the counter with his arms full of pastry boxes, as usual, which he set down with care. “And even better, I got to try riding one.”
The smaller dragon was startled at that. “Really? How?”
“My friend fixes them up and keeps a few. He let me go riding with him today.” Arro pushed some of the pastries at Rangavar. He always offered, even knowing that Rangavar wasn’t a huge fan. A grin spread over his face. “I’m not gonna downplay it; it was super cool.”
“That does sound cool.” Rangavar was happy to see him so happy. He looked away, suddenly disheartened at the idea of asking Arro about work. It was rare for Arro to enjoy himself so much. He couldn’t just drag his mood into the mud with questions.
Arro didn’t notice his change in demeanor. He picked up a few boxes of empty calories and brought them over to the couch. “Want to come eat with me?”
Rangavar eyed the food and didn’t feel very hungry. But he did very much feel like spending time with Arro. Even if he didn’t get his answers right away, he decided spending time with Arro was exactly what he wanted to do.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 96px
File Size 58.7 kB
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