Yu took three steps back and promptly dropped his room key. Oh fuck me why not.
He had a crap of a time picking it up with his claw and, balancing on the other leg, passing it back to his wings. The simple act left his muscles trembling. The mountain cold sat deep. His limbs were just starting to unfreeze. His stomach was another matter entirely. What had begun as a dull, creeping discomfort had escalated into something far worse. His gut twisted, clenched, and roiled. He needed to get to his room. To a bathroom. Shit was about to go down. Literally.
“Guess you’ll just have to go by personality then, huh?” The other brother’s skin flickered with shifting hues of bright blue, amusement bleeding through his bioluminescence. “I’m the one with the good jokes. Should be easy to remember.”
“Yes, he’s a real joke,” the first one said, his skin showing equally bright colours.
The second one blinked at his brother expectantly. Then, after a deliberate pause, added, “-ster.” He let the syllable hang in the air before sighing. “Oh, what a deep bond we share, completing each other’s sentences and all.”
Yu did not laugh. He levelled a dead-eyed stare at the self-proclaimed comedian. “Which one are you, then?”
“Es!”
The other – Deltington – clapped a clawed hand against his brother’s shoulder. “All right, now take him and the others to their rooms, brother. I’ll relieve Gurs. About time that guy gets his rest, or he’ll be grumpy all morning.”
“Brother.”
“Yes, my brother?”
“It is already morning, brother.”
“I am afraid so. That’s why I want to be outside, when Gurs is inside.”
Yu exhaled slowly, controlled, without unclenching the muscles around his stomach. He was too cold, too drained, and too done with this entire conversation. And very much with life as a whole.
By the time he staggered upstairs after Estingar, his stomach had gone from wreaking havoc to suicidal warfare. And then, just when Yu was convinced that he would be the next guy found poisoned on the balcony – finally, belatedly – realisation struck.
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