Divinity Rescue Corps
131- Doing God’s Work

Which was how I ended up with a nonstop stream of visitors in my bed. And more often, in the laboratory where I’d be working on the cure. Anyone not bent over the worktables and grunting at having me repeatedly slam my hips into their asses were tasked with making sure the coast was clear. It wasn’t too difficult, what with shift rotations.

The situation went on while the black cherry, the bluegrass, the purple morpheus, and the blue passionflowers all sprouted, grew, and blossomed under our care. While we prepped the ingredients for the task, I had a gorgeous woman on her knees with her back to the workstation, diligently sucking me off.

I have to say, the transition from the Divinity Rescue Corps operating as a cohesive unit to half the Divinity Rescue Corps willingly servicing me constantly was an unnervingly fast one.

So while Vellenia ground up some of the purple morpheus root and I chopped the stems up for another phase of the cure, Chrysta lay flat against the table nearby groaning and writhing in the afterglow of yet another furious session. The Pheromone-induced Adaptability slowly wore off, causing her to become more and more transparent, and the frost to spread further and further from her body.

Vellenia reached a hand over and stroked Chrysta’s face. “You did well!”

The ice ghost only smiled weakly before sliding to the floor in a heap. It took her another few minutes to recover and float off.

Some hours later, it was Tara’s turn, and Shakindria had to float several items away from her to keep her from knocking them off to shatter on the floor. Her dark blonde hair spilled out all over the workstation, and she kept her ankles locked tight around my waist.

It was some three or four minutes after I’d unloaded another huge load into her, and she still hadn’t let me go. Instead she got up on her elbows, big breasts still bare and nipples pointed at me, grinning lazily.

“This is hands down the best way to gain xp,” she announced. She’d asked me to order her; although it wasn’t a comfortable proposition, ordering a woman to have sex with me, she’d forced the issue. “Foraging for berries in the forest? Tracking and identifying new creatures? Navigating the terrain using a map? No way, I’d much rather it be Fletcher giving me a nice big present.”

Does she not understand that mating here in this world only grants magical benefits, without the proper spell or ritual? Shakindria asked.

I think it’s just her kink, I told her. Also Tara might not know that there was zero chance of fertilization. I hadn’t been brave enough to ask, which in a way was silly and in another way super irresponsible.

The Mindela’s big purple eyes widened a little, and regarded Tara in a new light.

Now, we need to boil the purple morpheus flowers in an infusion of bluegrass, stirring twice per minute, and add mana at a slow rate from the edges. The temperature needs to be a rolling boil, no foam at the top. If we hit foam, lower the temperature.

She nodded and got to work. Finally Tara let me go and went to have a nap in my room with a still-napping Vellenia, who I’d had earlier.

How many eggs are in a clutch? Shakindria asked, while I took over the task I’d given her.

I’m sorry? I asked in return, showing my confusion in my emotions.

How many eggs do humans produce each time you mate? She sent along a mental image with this, which caused me to throw my head back and bray honking laughter. This was a picture of Tara squatting down, her belly distended, and from between her legs she produced a large white egg. In her mind, Tara was squeezing out egg after egg  into a fur-lined nest, squatting not far from where Regina, Ivy and Isabelle were doing the same.

Ivy completely avoided coming to help me, which was actually a problem. I had not yet filled my entire bank of Tokens for all my attributes.

Isabelle came in to visit while I was in the midst of soaking up the purple morpheus in the bluegrass, stirring, and adding in the mana, radiating confusion. Eromancy told me she wasn’t sure what was going on and desired to know what problem she and Ivy were having.

“I can’t really…” I muttered, carefully extracting the pot of mixed flowers in oil to cool. “Bit busy here… but if Ivy also wants to come talk about it, you two are welcome to come.”

I was some 18 hours into the process when I earned the next level of Arcane Mender.

Level 28: +6 skill points, +1 Affinity

“That’s just what I needed,” I muttered, and set about spending points.

The first thing I needed was Transmutation. One skill point there. If I wanted to cast by instinct, I needed to first have the constructs figured out. It was a two-check process, I knew now.

Next, I needed more Develop Cure. One point for Large cure developments. After that, another point for Unique cure development.

Three left.

Instinctual Casting needed a point as well. After that, Mana Affinity said it would lower the cost of recalling the requirements for my spells, which included Transmutation. It also helped when I added mana to my herbal treatments and cures. One point there too, definitely.

And for my last point… I went searching through the UI. Even as my hands automatically did the job of cutting, grinding, stirring and infusing with mana.

“There,” I breathed. Develop Cure had a whole list of aspects and types of patients I could potentially work with. Fire, water, ice, ghost, dark, holy, and more beyond. But the one I wanted I hadn’t thought existed… until I specifically searched.

Develop Cure (human). My final point went there.

It was some six or eight hours later when all hell nearly broke loose. I was getting all the ingredients together, and about to scrape off, crumble up, bake, and then add the hardwood of black cherry tree, when Isabelle reappeared. With Ivy in tow.

“Hey Fletcher,” Isabelle called.

I regarded the two of them, while stripping bark from the cherry tree. It had grown to maturity over the course of only twenty four hours, going from tiny sprout to a good forty feet in no time. The creaking and groaning of the wood were easy to hear during that time, and had fallen silent since it stopped growing unnaturally fast.

“Izzy, Ivy,” I said, and showed them the basket full of bark. “Just heading in to put the final touches on this cure.”

“We can just talk as we walk,” she said with a shrug and a strained smile.

We did just that, heading through my garden in the early morning and getting our pants full of dew. Fairy Poppins had been lighting the way, and was almost certainly rapt with attention over oncoming drama.

“So someone broke down crying when I went to confront her,” Isabelle said with forced cheer. “She wouldn’t tell me anything else though.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep!” she chirped, but her voice fell down to a deadly, venomous quiet. “Did you fuck her?”

“I did not,” I said.

She regarded me. “You willing to let Fairy Poppins give you the lie detector fairy dust?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Ugh! You got Stalwart from me so I can’t just figure out if you’re lying easily.”

“I’m not.”

She whirled on Ivy. “Who was it then? I can’t for the life of me believe you’d shack up with Drat, and Alan’s too sick… Trent? He doesn’t do anything but sleep lately. I know you cheated on me, you just come out with it and it’ll go better for you. Was it one of the other team guys?”

Ivy was sobbing now, face buried in her hands, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

“I don’t think she cheated on you,” I told Isabelle. Then I put on Psyspeech. She offered, but I turned her down. You were on shift and I told her no. Along with that, I tried to lace the words with a mental image of Ivy with her hand in her pants, frigging herself with legs spread. I guess you guys haven’t had any time together since we started working on shift, and she’s been horny.

“Is that true?” Isabelle hissed. “Did you go to Fletcher for a little fucky fuck time, huh?”

Ivy, shaved head and tattoos and buff, lean body, slowly nodded with her hands over her face and sobs wracking her body. Meanwhile Isabelle, with cotton candy pinks and blues creeping over her skin, soft and cute, swore like a trucker.

“Izzy,” I warned her. “Emotions have consequences.” I shouldn’t have had to tell her what Blake did in losing his cool back in Slinktrickle. “We need to take a step back and cool off before we take this any further.”

“Yeah, maybe we need to take a step back, rethink our relationship entirely.”

“That’s clearly not what I mean,” I said.

She stared at me, the fury clear on her face. “And what do you mean then, huh? Ever since you got involved—”

I took a quick step toward her, and she faltered. “What has happened ever since I got involved? Have you two enjoyed a closer relationship than ever, or are you going to say something that’s patently false? Did I supply something Ivy said she needed and then get out of your way so you two could have your relationship?”

Her mouth worked open and closed. I’d sent the fury off course and it had thankfully crashed into a wall of indecision and doubt.

“You two seem really cute and really good together. And if you want, in a couple of levels, I don’t really even need to touch you two in order to give you what Ivy wants.”

I pointed the bundle of black cherry bark toward the strange v-shape of stone rising out of the ground.

“We’re close. Pretty damn close. Now, I’m really sorry we only have four Guardians, because right now when you guys are getting a lot of work, it seems like you don’t have time for each other. Two ships passing in the night kind of thing. I’ll assign Chrysta and Larelle to be together, you two can… work this out I hope. Or whatever you choose that doesn’t involve getting in the way of saving this god, getting all these people back in their homes, and having a big afterparty.”

The UI gave me a Persuasion check, and told me that since it was a contested check, I wasn’t allowed to use Tokens. So be it.

“There’s a Persuasion check,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”

Not a fan of the sullen look of indignation I received, but that was that.

***

 I found out later that Ivy ended up sleeping alone in Regina’s house, while Regina ‘helped me out’ with the cure. She and the other girls still involved with helping me replenish Tokens were taking turns sleeping in my bed or on unused workstations. Isabelle had disappeared in her pretty justified rage, though I wasn’t sure how justified. Ivy was miserable and it was this kind of split in the party we couldn’t really handle.

Still, for now, it was not at the forefront. Instead, the God of Productivity was. It had started attracting holy aspected Nakamamon, which was a bad sign. He was also leaking more divine energy by the day.

The day might’ve been a balmy one, just a bit too hot outside, but it was getting stifling in here. Larelle’s Magmamander helped ensure that. We’d moved the operation outside, and I was lagging enough to consider growing coffee beans in my special garden so I could have a continuous stream of caffeine for times like this. I’d been awake now for around 24 hours, and it was enough to make a man surly. The 24 hours of constant work had also give me blurred vision, and a pretty constant yawn.

I’d also had sex about seven times over the course of the day, and replenished almost all my Tokens. I thought I probably needed more than what I had, sadly.

Larelle lumbered around the corner and struck up a pose. All seven feet of thickly built, quiet hulking Nakamamon stared down at me, a thin smile playing across her face. She crossed her gigantic arms.

I have been informed that you are mating in order to gain back your Tokens, she said telepathically.

I let out a shaky sigh and continued fueling mana into the cure. “I… didn’t think you were interested in mating with someone so much smaller than yourself.”

Nonsense! She thundered into my mind, almost making me lose concentration on the final step of the cure. I had a long wooden paddle and was stirring the thing. It had become a gelatinous glob of awfulness.

It had started off as a thin, oily substance with sparkles floating on the top like bubbles of water here and there. The clear yellow of the oil had deepened to first indigo and then a deep violet, with the sparkles expanding into threads of light. They’d appear and disappear like shooting stars, zipping to life and exploding into different colors before vanishing again.

That had been with the addition of the purple morpheus, I thought. The flower petals, probably. I couldn’t keep track.

At some point the distilled essence of passionflower was introduced, which caused the whole thing to boil uncontrollably and suck in the surrounding mana at an alarming rate. I hadn’t needed to infuse it with any mana, because it had gone insane all on its own. I’d ordered Alan and Trent to get clear of the area, which had led to a mad scramble to get Alan on Airaconda and evacuated from a potentially terrifying situation.

Thankfully that had only gone on for a half hour, because mana deprivation is not a fun feeling. I hadn’t been there for a while, but the feeling of having your soul ripped away was emotionally draining. This had been part of the instructions and I’d prepared a mana potion for myself and those working in the lab, but the ambient mana was stolen from nearly a quarter mile in all directions. Also, it went on longer than I imagined, so we all took little sips of mana potion together as the horrible sensation stretched on.

From then, I’d needed to add the purple morpheus root. This caused the whole thing to go cosmic black, complete with pinpricks of light sparkling through. This temporarily reoriented the local ley line to veer over and spill mana over the whole area. Instead of deprivation, it was now mana over saturation, leading us to take our anti-magic pills almost five days earlier than necessary. We’d come pretty close to turning into Nakamamon there. Drat was nearly invisible when he took his pill, and Cinzy’s face had not been her own. Whatever Nakamamon she was destined to turn into, it was probably a shapeshifter, because her nose and ears and cheekbones kept changing shape, and her hair went through lengths and styles every few heartbeats.

Finally, once all the different parts were swirled together and the temperature had been lowered, intensified, then lowered again so it could simmer, it needed the hardwood.

The black cherry wood pulp turned the damn thing from a liquid into a big ass ball of play dough. Only sticky. It became almost impossible to stir, since we had a glob of it some three feet around. It probably weighed almost as much as I did. Sure it shimmered with a coruscating oil slick of neon pink and green, and sure it gave off a low hum of power. Sure, it couldn’t be touched without imbuing you with so much mana that you’d go Nakamamon instantly… but it was so hard to work with now. It wanted to stick to the bottom of the cast iron cauldron, and needed to be wrenched up, then folded over constantly.

Also the smell. It was, if I can possible describe this, two different smells that had nothing to do with one another, mixed together. Like the hellspawn lovechild of peppermint and jet fuel. Or lemon juice and cordite. Or bubblegum and cumin.

Alan had recommended a spell to make it impossible for me to smell anything, but I didn’t have the ability to perform the spell, for one. It was an abjuration, and a simple one, sure, but it required me to concentrate on the spell the whole time. I couldn’t have the spell going and make the cure at the same time.

Also I’d been stirring the bloody thing on and off, in between bouts of mind-blowing sex, for a full day. I was exhausted.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, and yawned. “I can’t handle this right now, Larelle. I’m just about to—“

The UI appeared for the final Develop Cure check.

Develop Cure (Large/Unique) Check: Currently, you have the Develop Cure (Large) skill at level 6, Develop Cure (Unique) at level 8, and Affinity at level 8. This check is Nigh Impossible difficulty. You to not currently have 18 Tokens with which to succeed the check automatically.

Would you like to spend your 15 Tokens to lower the difficulty to Develop Cure by 5?

Total Tokens: 8 Affinity and 7 Free Tokens.

I looked frantically at Larelle. “Will you help me lower the check with Affinity Tokens?” I blurted.

Whatever she saw on my face—the exhaustion, the frantic desperation—she nodded. A load of Tokens appeared in a halo around her head, only to go cla-cling! before puffing out of existence.

Your ally has spent 15 Affinity Tokens to lower your difficulty by 5. Would you like to spend 13 Tokens to succeed automatically?

My overtaxed brain pressed the wrong intention button, and I lowered the difficulty by 3 instead, with 9 Tokens.

Now I needed 10 successes. I had 22 skill levels and an enhanced chance of success, but I’d done worse than 40% before.

I was about to start swearing when the message came up.

Congratulations! You have succeeded in crafting a unique cure.

I let out a shaky breath, ignore the UI’s question about spending Durability Tokens to remain alert and awake, and sank to the ground.

Great big hands picked me up and brought me inside my house, then into my bedroom. She hardly fit. I watched as her head nearly skimmed the ceiling, and how she ducked low to get through the bedroom doorway.

Several yelps followed, as nude girls leapt out of my bed and scrambled for their clothing.

Larelle broadcast a calming message, and they all stared at the unfolding scene.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I will mate with you to regain Tokens when you’ve gotten some rest, Larelle told me. I will not be denied, Fletcher.

I went to tell her something else, but the softness of my pillow hit my head and I was sucked into unconsciousness.

***

When I woke it was, oddly enough, Tweedle Dee cuddling up to me and that was it. The little scamp had curled up on my chest and had been dozing, but the moment I let out my sigh, his head perked up and he let out a yip.

“Hello to you too, Dee,” I said. I felt tired, but otherwise amazing. This had been one of the best sleeps of my life.

After a couple of face licks I couldn’t defend against, since my arms were trapped under the blanket, Regina’s bond mate hopped off my head and scampered out the door.

The girls joined me later around the campfire. Ivy was still nowhere to be seen, and both Isabelle and Chrysta were on godwatch.

“We need to administer this cure,” Cinzy said. “Ivy and Larelle reported that our big guy is starting to come apart. More frequent vomiting, some mana surges that feel all wrong, more stumbling into buildings. He vomited up a sledge hammer, but your Nakamamon was there to telekinetically slap it into His body.”

“Uh… what? And also, her name is Shakindria and she’s incredible.”

The hammer was reabsorbed into the god. I shuddered and nodded at the news and the mental image. Gods were fracking metal.

“All right.”

The cure was ready. It had congealed into a paste that was thick with potent mana. You couldn’t get too close to it because it started turning you into a Nakamamon in a hurry. Touching it shot my mana up so high I took damage, which was perfect. I spent a Durability Token using Healer’s Resistance to gain some permanent resistance to it, before burning off some of the mana.

Then I touched it again.

“Ow!”

“What… are you doing?”

“Building up my Arcane damage resistance,” I said matter-of-factly. I got through all 6 of my Durability Tokens before I stopped. The typical gain was 3% permanent boost each time, though I sometimes got only 2% instead. The system made sense, only the way the English language made sense: the more you peered at it, the more the rules were more like guidelines.

With a 16% Arcane damage resistance and several doses of anti-magic, I set off with the girls.

“This needs to be applied to the chakra points,” I told them. “We need to smear liberally around the crown, the third eye, the heart, the guts, and somehow we need to get some around the, uh… taint… area.”

Snorts of laughter came with exasperated groans, followed closely by gasps of wonder. How in the hell were we going to pry up His holy jockstrap and smear this difficult-to-touch paste around a god’s holy dong, or around his holy butthole?

It was a question I couldn’t answer.

We had the cauldron hanging Chrysta and I, on a long wooden pole and strung across our shoulders.

“How are you feeling?”

“Drained,” she said. “This divinity poisoning is not to my liking.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Nonsense. It is my responsibility to get clear of the divine attacks… such as they are.”

“Well as your doctor, I advise you to be even more vigilant in the future.”

She gave me a thin-lipped smile that was half pain, and half reluctance to acknowledge how terrible my joke was.

“Let’s go heal this thing,” I said.

This is Christopher heroically leading the charge with a jar full of goo and a wooden spoon.

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