GraceFall [ONC 2024]

11

La Maison de Terre - Uptown - Faraday City ...

Betty had chosen this venue and Zjahn felt as out of place here as he did everywhere. Outside of his heroic activities, he spent most of his time within the confines of his apartment. The stench of the dead meat and vegetables that these humans consumed to sustain themselves made his stomach turn. Not to mention the plethora of artificial scents that assailed his nostrils.

Humans doused themselves with chemicals to enhance their natural scents, or as he preferred to see it, to hide the smells that emanated from every part of their bodies. His enhanced, alien senses could smell it all and he reviled it. Here, among those congregating for what they called 'fine dining', the experience assaulted him in waves and, not for the first time, he wished he had never come to this planet.

"How's your fish?" The woman fell into 'polite conversation' with ease, her utensils clicking upon the plate before her. "I read, in the restaurant critic's column, that they serve the most delicious fish this side of Arclight City."

Of course. Everything was better in Arclight City. The chosen home of Principle. A cleaner city. A more technologically advanced city, thanks to the money and businesses of Victor Vaughn, Principle's rival for the affections of the city, and, in his mind, for Principle's lover, Leona Lawrence. Vaughn also held the dubious honour of being this world's second most intelligent man and Principle's primary antagonist. Though the world only saw him as the face of VaughnCorp.

In that, alone, Zjahn did not envy Principle. Vaughn had the resources and the brains to always stay one step ahead of Zjahn's heroic rival. Zjahn did not have a nemesis. Or, rather, he hadn't had one until he created one. One that was, perhaps, even more deadly than Vaughn, because Zjahn's nemesis knew everything that Zjahn knew and Zjahn could not defeat himself.

Only after he had pushed around the cooling, cooked flesh of the fish around his plate did he realise that he had not answered the woman, and she now looked at him with expectant eyes. He still did not understand why she had invited him to this meal, this place, and it infuriated him that he could not read her mind and find out. Yet, even there, something felt different. Her thoughts not so much blank, but clouded, as though, if he concentrated hard enough, he could break through. But he could not.

"It is ... palatable." It was disgusting, like most things on Earth. "Though I must confess, I do not hunger enough tonight to eat it all."

Her gaze never wavered from him as she scooped up some form of sauce onto soft, white flakes of fish flesh before daintily transferring it into her mouth. She chewed, saying nothing and the thought of her, anyone, masticating the remains of dead animals was almost enough for Zjahn to vomit. He didn't eat in the same fashion as humans. His people had long since abandoned the process. Relying, instead, on nutritionally satisfying supplements.

"I bet you're wondering why I asked you out, right?" She framed it as a question, but Zjahn got the impression that it was not intended as such. "Well, after the disaster at the Oakmont, I thought I needed to apologise. I left you alone when that ... villain attacked and that was wrong of me. I invited you and I should have stayed by your side."

"Think nothing of it." Something caught Zjahn's attention. Something that he had missed. "Forgive me if I intrude, but is that an ... engagement trinket? Ring! An engagement ring?"

Betty reached for her glass, the contents involving the pressed and fermented remains of some fruit. An alcoholic concoction that served to lower inhibitions. As she did so, she turned the ring with her thumb, her bright, painted nails contrasting with the colour of the alcohol. The 'wine'. Her eyes widened sharply as she made a discreet lick of her lips, replacing the glass upon the table surface.