Renevere Mars: Part Three

Episode 39: The Final Test Reattempted

Laughter erupted around the table situated in the corner of the pub with a rounded bench wrapped around one side and several chairs pulled up across. Mecha had just told a hilarious joke about warriors coming into Ossilith from small hometowns, somewhat at Ren's expense. She sat across from Ren with two of her friends to either side. Ren didn't know them well, and it was hard to keep track because there always seemed to be some lackeys in her wake. Ren sat on the bench between Duren and Heath, each with a glass in hand filled with golden ale.

"Very funny," Ren said sarcastically, though she had admittedly laughed despite it being at her expense. "It's not like you grew up here."

"I'm from Portolm, sweet cheeks," Mecha said, splaying her fingers against her chest. "Small town girl, I am not. Where do you think I learned how to tinker? They don't teach that at the academy."

"Speaking of," Duren said, and unlatched his mission mask from where it hung around his neck, freshly returning from something routine earlier that day. He set it on the table with a clatter and slid it across to Mecha. "It feels loose."

"What did you do to it?" she accused, not hesitating for even a moment to unbutton one of the mettle buttons on her pants and withdraw a screwdriver.

"You just carry that around," Ren murmured, and was ignored.

"I didn't do anything to it," Duren retorted. "Except wear it for days on end, in battle, across country..."

Mecha had already started examining the mask while Duren spoke. Now she set it down and started on one of the screws, squinting up at Duren as she twisted the screwdriver without looking. "Doesn't matter, my work doesn't just feel loose."

It took Ren a moment to compute this statement, during which Duren responded, "Well, this piece of work does."

"Wait, you made this?" Ren asked as Mecha removed one of the metal grates that made up the monstrosity and set it on the table with a clang. She was already poking around in the innards now, and there was far more going on beneath the removed plate than Ren expected or understood.

"Sure did," Duren said for her, because she was busy lifting the mask to take a deep inhale through her nose. "You thought I bought it at the store?"

Ren smiled but continued to stare incredulously as Mecha took another whiff. "I don't know, I guess not..."

"You change the filter like I told you?" Mecha asked.

Duren made a sideways face.

Mecha rolled her eyes theatrically. "It's a dehumidifying agent, Duren. Your damn mask is getting waterlogged. You're lucky as hell it's not rusting." She squinted one eye closed and held the mask up to the light to see some tiny detail within. "Very lucky."

Ren was certain she meant because Mecha would have physically harmed Duren if he had allowed such an atrocity to occur.

"Is that why it's loose though?" Duren asked, unphased.

"No. It's loose because at one point you slammed it around and the hinge joint got damaged. Don't look at me like that, you're the one who wanted a comfortable, durable, flexible, bla bla mask that does it all, so what did you expect? There's delicate parts here Duren, that need tending to."

"Well," he gestured as though to say go ahead.

"Not here," she hissed. "I need my garage... Bangin' up my work," she grumbled, setting the mask back down in forfeit.

"Hard to avoid some bangs," Heath reasoned in his always-genial tone.

And then Ren blurted out, at the same time as Heath, "We're not tailors." It was an inside joke between them, and they had looked at each other when they said it, both hoping to make the other laugh but instead making themselves laugh at the echo. This of course launched Heath into an immediate battle to pinch Ren's cheek. It was bad luck to say the same thing at the same time, so school kids made up the rule that whoever gets their cheek pinched first is the one who has to carry all the bad luck.