Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Two: Shut up Bitch I’m Cooking!
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why did you say those things to Chels!?” Megan snapped, throwing her finger into Drake’s face and mming her other hand onto the table.
<span style="font-weight:400">“First. Put that thing away,” Drake said, using his hand to gently move her finger out of his face, “Second. What things exactly? I said quite a few.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Megan’s face deepened into a scowl, “You know exactly what I mean! Why would you dismiss her feelings like that! She was crying all night!” she shouted, drawing the eyes of everyone around, save Sherry who was staring at the food prep unperturbed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Dismiss? How did I dismiss her feelings? I was very forward and upfront with what I said,” Drake said evenly.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You couldn’t have let her down more easily? Your words hurt more than you think!” she spat.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake sighed, “That’s exactly why I said what I did. Chelsea is a good woman, she was a bitch to me at first but deep down I know she’s a great and loving person. She was willing to sacrifice herself for her friends with no care for her own safety multiple times.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then why would you tell her she has no chance!?” Megan shouted again, getting closer to Drake.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake didn’t budge and moved her back with one arm despite her digging in to stand her ground.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Because she has no chance with <em><span style="font-weight:400">me</em><span style="font-weight:400">. She is a good girl and deserves a good man. But that man won’t be me. And I know my words hurt, but what would you have me do? Lie to her and give her even a sliver of hope that she might have a chance? If anything that’s worse. She might be hurting now, I’ll concede that. But I won’t be a part of stringing along someone who I don’t see as a romantic partner. She deserves better than that. And if you think I should go back on my word and tell her she does have a chance, you''re more of a shit person and shit friend than I would have thought,” Drake said looking down as he sneered.
<span style="font-weight:400">Megan’s mouth opened up ready to retort but Jacqueline stepped in.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s enough love, just gofort Chels now. You’re stepping in where you shouldn’t. The man may be an asshole, but he isn’t mad. Wouldn’t you want someone who has no intention of being yours to tell you so? Or would you like to be used and strung along for weeks, months, maybe even years?” she said, holding Megan back by the shoulder.
<span style="font-weight:400">Megan’s eyes widened before she ground her teeth. Knowing Jacqueline was talking about her and Chris.
<span style="font-weight:400">It was still a fresh wound in her mind and heart, but both Jacqueline and Drake were right. She had enough sense to know that if Chris was anything like Drake, none of what happened to their group would have.
<span style="font-weight:400">Megan reluctantly conceded the point, turning with her head down and walking back with Jacqueline in tow to their tent.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What was that all about?” Tom asked, saying the question on everyone’s mind that everyone knew was too rude to ask.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Just unneeded drama…” Drake sighed, “But that’s how it is in life, there’s no getting around it, even in a death tutorial it seems.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is it because of me…?” ire asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yep, and cause of me. So don’t get a stitch about it. All’s fair in love and war, and you can’t expect to have one guy horde all the good women. Or can you…. Wait I may have made a mistake, someone go ge- Ow!” Drakeined in faux pain as an elbow hit him from the side.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake grinned and looked over to a pouting ire. Her cheeks puffed up as she chopped away at the ingredients on the table, pushing them off and into the pot on the side, refusing to look at Drake.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I feel like I’m being hit quite a lottely… And I’m not getting the good kind of hit,”
<span style="font-weight:400">“There’s a good kind of hit? The fuck are you saying?” Lamar asked from behind Drake, as he towered over everyone at the table.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Of course!” Drake said turning to look up at the cyclopean, “There''s getting hit in the- You know what never mind. We don’t kink shame here, it''s poor manners. You wouldn’t want to be like that nasty construct who zapped me in the introduction.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You got zapped in the introduction Mr. Shot?” Harley asked from his left, her face lighting up in surprise.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Long story but yeah I got tasered in the introduction room,” Drake said casually.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Haha! How did you manage that bro?” Bjorn asked from his seat barking augh.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">Long Story</em><span style="font-weight:400">. Do I really have to say that again?” Drake scoffed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“So your smart ass did something ta get yourself tased, and it’s too embarrassing to admit. Is that right ya idjit?” Hudson surmised.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You know, some people say EQ is a curse, but for you, Hudson, it might be a very funnyedic gift at my expense,” Drakeughed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Thank ya kindly. Wait…” Hudson said his face turning pensive as he went over what Drake said in his head again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Either way, good morning ya big lug, you here for Breakfast or you want to just get to it?” Drake said, turning back to Lamar.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Always down for some grub. Don’t exactly get decent meals in the Outpost. And after what I heard happenedst night… I don’t think we will at all anymore,” Lamar said wryly.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ok,” Drake said holding up both hands, “Yeah that was my fault, but the people in charge didn’t give me a choice when they decided to try and kidnap someone important to me, and hurt another,” Drake said his face turning steely, “If youe for what’s mine, you have to understand there will be consequences tenfold.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar, even asrge as he was, still shivered under Drake’s not-so-idle threat. Even if it wasn’t directed at him, but said in general.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Right… I’ll keep that in mind. Just stop staring at me like that, it''s freaking me out.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then let''s get some food in us. I’m ready to start crafting! I need some new bling!” Drake shouted.
<span style="font-weight:400">The only ones who cheered along were the small garbage trucks, Sherry and Natto. Everyone else sighed and continued to either wait or help with the prep.
<hr>
<span style="font-weight:400">After finishing breakfast, Lamar and Drake moved to the outskirts of their small camp.
<span style="font-weight:400">“So how is this going to work? Do I read a book, are you going to impart knowledge on me? Or is it the old fashion way?” Drake asked, getting a little excited.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t know, I’ve never helped someone with it before. I kinda assumed you knew more than I did,” Lamar said, beginning to take things out of his own inventory.
<span style="font-weight:400">First Lamar set a tent next to him, then pulled out more craftsman-type equipment.
<span style="font-weight:400">He pulled out a kiln, forge, whetstones, hammers, files, mps, stacks of wood, measuring tools, you name it and therge cyclopean had it within a few minutes out and ready.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">You will have to do it the old-fashioned way if therger-than-life oaf does not have a skill book prepared, which I assume he does not,”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto exined.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">There we have it then. Thanks for the info, even if it was a littlete…</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake jabbed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">You did not need it until now, do you not have enough problems dealing with monsters and women, fool,” </em><span style="font-weight:400">Natto retorted.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">There’s no need to be so snippy. One of those lovelydies might one day be your pseudo-mommy.</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake joked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">I will never call you or any ill-minded woman either of those words. And they better not get in my face, ''cause I will unceremoniously drop that motherfucker!”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto shouted.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">Wow, that escted quickly. And technically it would be a she who is.. Yeah… so it would be a fatherfucker…? Nevermind…</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Drake thought, shaking his head.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ok yeah, old-fashioned way it is!” Drake said, trying to get the very disturbing image he hade up with out of his head.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Who told ya that? The little birdie?” Lamar asked, putting some cksmithing tongs on his shoulder.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why yes, yes she did in very colorful and endearing words,” Drake replied a smile on his face.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s not creepy. But whatever, I have things to do so let''s get to cooking,” Lamar sighed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Let him cook!” Drake cheered, his hair shimmering to a vibrant orange.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar looked back over his shoulder confused.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” Drake shrugged, “So what’s first then big guy?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“First you''re going to heat and mold arge b of regr iron,” Lamar instructed pulling a huge darkened rod from under the table.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake looked at it and smiled, “Oh this should be easy, I’ve been doing this for most of my life,” Drake said snickering as he wiggled his eyebrows.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I don’t need to hear that you fucking freak. Get to beatin- hittin-” Lamar sighed, trying to change the word every time when Drake leaned in closer his eyebrows going up and down, “Just fucking smack the stupid piece of metal with the hammer after you heat it up! Fucking weirdo…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake saluted and moved over to the unlit forge, where he quickly encountered a problem.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hey, Lamar,” Drake said over his shoulder as he looked at the forge.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah….?” he answered.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How do I set this thing on fire? And I don’t have any tools…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar sighed, his hand covering his one eye.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s right, I forgot you’re a newbie. Can’t you do some sort of magic thing? And the forge… I’ll do it, just watch so you know forter,” Lamar sighed, thundering over to the forge.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake stepped back a bit watching the hulking cyclopean do something he didn’t expect.
<span style="font-weight:400">Breathe fire into the forge.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How am I supposed to do that? Is that a skill or something?” Drake asked incredulously.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah it''s a cksmithing skill, you’ll get itter,” Lamar exined.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake looked at the forge, a thoughting to him.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Wait. I want to learn how to make rings and nes, why are you having me hammer iron? I don’t need a weapon,” Drake asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar looked back at Drake, both silent for a moment.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh,” Lamar said.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh?” Drake replied.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hmm…” Lamar added.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hmm…?” Drake parrotted.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well that makes stuff more simple,” Lamar said pulling an item from his inventory, handing it to Drake, “Here.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake looked at therge circle of measuring rings confused.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What’s this?” he asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Exactly what it looks like you idiot. Their finger measuring rings,” Lamar scoffed, pulling a few more items from his inventory, “Here’s some armor you can cut to rece thin sheet metal for now until you get it down enough to use mana iron strips. This is a mandrel you''re going to be bending the metal around it until it''s a circle,” Lamar said, throwing the spike-like thing to Drake.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Whoa,” Drake said, catching the piece of equipment, “Whates after that?” he asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s all you need for now. Once you get good at molding metal to the size you need we can move on, but before that, you need to get used to bending metal,” Lamar exined.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake took the piece of armor, a chest piece, and ripped a piece from it with his bare hand, scrunching the strip he had torn around one of his empty fingers.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Done,” Drake said, giving a smile.
<span style="font-weight:400">“No not done you fucking idiot! Do it how I told you!” Lamar roared.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Jeez, take a joke….” Drakeughed, then spotted a notification.
<strong>[New Profession Quest! Create Simple Metal Bands [No Grade], Simple Chain Nes [No Grade]</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">
<strong>[Reward: Profession Experience. Low-Grade Crafting Manual, Mana Infused Tools [F-Grade]</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">
<strong>[Requirement: Create 250 Simple Metal Bands [No Grade], 100 Simple Chain Nes [No Grade]</strong>
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh look at that…” Drake chuckled.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What?” Lamar asked indignantly.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I got the quest I needed,” Drake replied snidely.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Bullshit,” Lamar scoffed.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake willed the quest window to open and turned it so Lamar could see.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Read ''em and weep big man,” Drake sneered.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s horseshit. You didn’t even do anything!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake held up his finger holding the crushed metal around it.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Nuh uh!” Drake joked wagging the finger.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar groaned but waved Drake’s childish games off, needing to go back to his own work.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Fine whatever, do what you need to, once you get past it I’ll help with the more intricate details for better craftsmanship…” he sighed, “Stupid fucking system… What was all that work I did for years for!?” he grunted, walking off to his workbench grabbing some tools and continuing to grumble.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake smiled, satisfied he had annoyed the cyclopean well enough for the rest of the day.
<span style="font-weight:400">Pulling out a few more simr-looking pieces of equipment he still had on hand, Drake got to work pulling them apart for the metal. Easily stripping them down into smaller pieces fore the rings.
<span style="font-weight:400">At first, he made each ring by just bending them around his own finger with raw strength. But then thought better of it.
<em><span style="font-weight:400">I’ll need to do it properly eventually anyway, better not to take shortcuts I guess…</em><span style="font-weight:400"> He thought admitting to himself he was cheating the quest.
<span style="font-weight:400">Sighing he pulled out the mandrel and a piece of stripped metal. Fiddling around with the best way to bend it.
<span style="font-weight:400">He tried heating up the strip but he was unable to get it to bend as precisely as he wanted around the tool.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Damn it, why is this so hard…?!” Drake grumbled under his breath.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hey,” Lamar said from behind him.
<span style="font-weight:400">Drake turned quickly saying the first thing that came to mind.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Shut up bitch I''m fucking cooking here! Oh, my bad. Yeah? What is it?” Drake said, chuckling nervously.
<span style="font-weight:400">Lamar just raised his singr brow in confusion but chalked it up to Drake being an idiot like usual.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You need to hammer the metal around the mandrel lightly to form it. I can’t believe I needed to say that. Are you really an idiot? And act like one to cover it up?” Lamar asked incredulously.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I plead the 5th, thank you very much,” Drake said, hearing a snickering in his head from Natto.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Right well, get your dumbass over to the table, it’ll be easier if you use an elevated surface,” Lamar suggested, thumbing to a spare workbench.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Thank ya kindly big guy,” Drake said, tipping an imaginary hat.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I fucking despise you,” Lamar cringed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s what everyone says at first, but don’t worry I grow on you,” Drake smiled.
<span style="font-weight:400">“<em><span style="font-weight:400">If only that were true….”</em><span style="font-weight:400"> Natto sighed.