99 – Four Star Brandy Review
Like everything about Morgan, her hiding place was unusual. She didn't have chairs, so she'd stacked pillows or bedding into lumps and tied them up with ribbons to make extra large cushions. Morgan had littered them around a round table made of hessian sacking wrapped around a colossal bike tire. Brandy could see a little bit of the tire tread peeking out of one end where the sacking had slipped. Thick sticks were propped up to act as the legs crisscrossing over each other like someone had started to build a small bonfire and decided it'd also work as a dinner table. Shiny trinkets were littered all over it, strange coins Brandy had never seen, rings, metal bracelets, and necklaces with gemstones. All of it looked awfully cheap, but it was glittery and worked as something to prop up candles in, and not a single candle looked anything like the others.
Morgan had hung fabric from every point she could; it was a messy riot of colors only united in how bold and bright they were. Thin gauze netting for sleeping near wet areas had gone over the windows to hide the inside, while everything from colorful beach towels to blankets was used to decorate the room like a mad carnival tent. There was no crystal ball, but Brandy would have bet money that Morgan wanted one and would have put it front and center if she could get it.
A fortune teller tent by way of a thrift store bohemian bedroom. Utterly mad, but it also kind of worked.
In fairness to Morgan, she was hiding under a bridge and must have had to scavenge or trade for a lot of this. She was just working with what she had, but it still somehow fit what Brandy knew of Morgan. Not unpleasant, but certainly unexpected.
"Sit," Morgan said, waving to the makeshift chairs by her table. "You can set up the stove where you like."
A light breeze in the room made all the fabric flutter gently and brought the room alive. It wasn't coming from any window, so it had to be Morgan using her Gust move a little more subtly.
Calcine noticed Brandy's gaze at the fabric hanging off the ceiling above. "It all moves in time with her breathing. It's an interesting effect."
"Creepy," Sparky shuddered as she flopped front-first over one of the oversized cushions and lay there like a lizard on a rock. "But I love all the colors. I was worried you'd be all black all the time."
"These feathers don't change." Morgan ran a hand through the black feathers along her wing arm. "So I more or less am. If my nest matched, it'd be very dreary to look at."
Brandy didn't mind that one bit. Like Calcine's coal skin, Morgan's black feathers were a gorgeous look that worked for her. Morgan swished her wing gently beside her, Brandy's gaze following it until she realized she was bobbling her head around like an idiot. Morgan smirked at her. "I am getting a meal, aren't I?"
Right, yes. Brandy would get on with that.
Plenty of stone floor was free for them to set the stove up on. Brandy was pretty pleased with her new camping stove. It had a tray she could use as a grill top, perfect for teaching Calcine how to cook burgers someday. Brandy couldn't stop Calcine from wanting to feed them, but she could at least try to get Calcine's cooking to a point where they didn't dread it. Until then, she could make everyone some poffin meat buns. The tube of Tamato Berry dough got Morgan's interest, and she watched intently as Brandy heated everything up.
"Have you been eating well out here?" Brandy asked, awkwardly trying to get the conversation going again.
"I can find bits here and there at night. I wouldn't say it's been fine dining."
No, of course not. Cooking was practically its own art form for getting a Partner if battling didn't appeal. Outside of Wooloo, it was pretty rare for Wild Pokémon to have any idea what to do with a stove. Calcine wasn't especially bad at it for a Pokémon. The bar was just really, really low to begin with.
"I won't kick you out while the food smells good," Morgan said after another awkward pause. "Why don't you just tell me why you're so insistent on seeing me so you can relax?"
"It's complicated," Brandy said. "It's not just one reason."
"Well, luckily, I enjoy stories as much as I do my food," Morgan said, leaning in to watch the meat sizzle and get a sniff of it. "The trick with stories is to start at the beginning, work towards the end, and then stop."
"Or keep going until people yell at you to stop," Sparky said, bouncing her limbs so they padded against the big puffy seat she was lying on with little thumps. "Then keep going past that till they put something in your mouth to make you stop."
"Does that work?" Morgan asked.
Sparky's gasp of offense was so loud even Morgan snorted out a laugh. "Your Partners are fun to tease. I do like the legs. I have long ones too. They don't know the troubles of being tall like we do."
"I count tall as six foot one. You're an inch out," Calcine said, deadpan serious. Morgan flicked her fingers at Calcine as if shooing away the attempted teasing. She wasn't that easy.
"I prefer being taller, but other than that, I'd enjoy getting those legs wrapped around my waist." Morgan gave Brandy's butt a slap and nudged her wrist to get her cooking again. Which Brandy did with a bit of a wobble. There were a lot of feelings still rolling about in her, and it'd really broken her focus. Thankfully, the meat hadn't burned through it. "Shay isn't wrong. You are my type, fit, adventurous, and a bit too stubborn for your own good. You really braved all I threw at you on Shay's word? She doesn't seem the sort to think beyond the next fuck."
Brandy didn't want to ruin the moment. Morgan's feathers were deliciously soft against her skin, but much like Calcine, she wasn't comfortable lying about serious matters even when it might be the clever play. So nothing to do but dive in on it. "I think I'd have powered through. It felt like a challenge. But that wasn't entirely why. We met Cassidy before we got here."
Morgan's grip got a little tighter, but she didn't remove her head from Brandy's shoulder as she hovered behind her, watching her cook the poffin dough on the grill and wrap it around the meat. It wouldn't be the most elegant poffin meat buns ever made. Brandy's hands were trembling for a whole host of reasons.
"You met Cassidy and still wanted to come to meet me?" Morgan said, her words sharper, a thread of sensitive danger laced in them that Brandy would trip over if she weren't careful. "I'm not worth the effort. You don't need to deal with my problems."
"Bullshit."
Brandy had been thinking it, but Sparky was the one to say it, her fur crackling as she squinted angrily at Morgan. "You're hot, and you know it. Brandy's practically melting under you."
"It's true, though. I did a terrible thing." Morgan said as she put her face in Brandy's hair and sighed. One big sad gasp had her chest rise and fall against Brandy's back. "And she won't stop trying to forgive me for it. It's a mess. A tragedy."
Morgan made everything sound so dramatic, but the sigh was real, as was her need for someone to hold onto. It made Brandy feel awkward, she didn't want to be the comforter to soothe Morgan's wounds, but she didn't want to push her away either. Dark Types wore their emotions openly, so what was a way to care for that? Appeal to baser instincts?
Brandy broke off some of the fried poffin dough and held it up to Morgan's mouth. "Eat," Brandy commanded.
"Not hungry," Morgan said sulkily.
"Eat," Brandy said more firmly and felt Morgan's soft lips slide over her fingers as she sucked the dough away. "Good?"
There was a long silence and the sound of polite chewing before Morgan sank back onto her shoulder. Brandy had to take the Murkrow's whole weight as she slumped onto Brandy's back. "Yeah, it's good."
"There'll be more. I got enough for us all. Just tell us what happened. You'll feel better about it."
"I want to fuck you, not cry on your shoulder. You'll enjoy being fucked a lot more. I'm very good at it" Morgan wrapped Brandy up in her wings and peppered her neck with kisses. So damn soft it really was tempting to let Morgan just have her fun, but no. This had to be done. It explained why Shay had sent Brandy because Brandy couldn't imagine Shay resisting her impulses at all.
"Then a deal, you tell me the story and cry if you need to. Then after, you can have me any way you want."
"Any?" Morgan said with malicious delight. "That's a very open offer. I could do terrible things to you."
This bit of shameless bribery wouldn't work on most, but for a Dark who was eager to sate her hunger, it was too tantalizing an offer. Brandy had learned from her fight with Shay. A little give and take here would be fine.
"Anything you want," Brandy said, and Morgan drew a finger along Brandy's throat as if signing her name.
"Deal, now be a good still shoulder to cry on. This is a heartbreaking story, and I don't want to get the floor wet." Morgan glanced down at Brandy's body and licked her lips. "We can get the floor wet after. Okay then. So, it all began..."