A Rivalry for the Ages: Talas vs Sixsmith (Tocktick, Bodhrán M.)
Talas tapped his fingers against the nearest glass canister, “Like this beauty.”
“Beauty?” The incredulity was obvious even to Emmett.
Talas’ eyes narrowed and he deliberately turned his head away. “She is a miracle of modern engineering. This beauty will get this hunk of wood flying again.”
The room temperature plummeted from merely ‘icy’ to ‘Arctic ocean floor’.
“She’s running so smoothly now, Emmett, you should hear her, she’s as clean as a fucking whistle.”
“The Iris is not a hunk of wood.”
“I think you will see a fucking noticeable difference in how she runs,” Talas went on with what appeared to be suicidal cheeriness, “And the filter is distilling the excess steam down to practically nothing. We may need to fix up the vent outside though.”
“My ship is not a hunk of wood.”
Emmett grabbed Sixsmith’s sleeve and tugged him backwards. If these two were cats, their fur would have been on end.
He caught Maia’s gaze and – beyond the spark of pain – saw her look heavenward and mutter something.
“C’mon, Six, I’ll show you your workroom,” Emmett said loudly. He nodded at Maia, who shrugged helplessly, and then added, “If you don’t mind, Talas, we’ll join you for dinner in an hour or so.”
He saw Maia turn a steely gaze on Talas as he hustled Sixsmith out of the room and down into below decks proper.
He didn’t let go until the doors were safely closed behind them.
“It is so smooth,” Talas said in wonderment, “We were just cutting through the sky.”
“Yep, the wind goblins really blessed us,” Sixsmith replied gleefully.
Talas’ face twisted and he snapped, “No, it is because Maia and I worked for a week straight to make this hunk of wood sky worthy.”
“Blessed wind goblins,” Sixsmith repeated with infuriating cheeriness.
“Wind goblins are not real!”
Sixsmith grinned at him and dropped his voice to a whisper, “How do you know?”
“Because there are no pieces of folklore, no scientific studies, no proof that they are!”
“Maybe…” Sixsmith adopted an innocent expression which Emmett remembered with remarkable clarity, “… they’re just hidin' from you. 'cause you dun’t believe in the wind-goblins.”
“You mention wind-goblins one more time and I do not care that you are old, I will punch you in the face.” Talas was practically vibrating with fury.
Sighing, Sixsmith turned to lean on the railing. “You’ve got no romance in your soul, Tally.”
“Do not call me Tally! And there is no such thing as wind goblins!”
Face reddening, Talas grunted in frustration and stormed down the steps to the engine room. Sixsmith smirked.
Waiting until Talas was clearly out of earshot and the rest of the crew moved back to their tasks, Emmett sidled up to Sixsmith. Trying to keep his face neutral, he murmured, “You know wind goblins aren’t real, right?”
Sixsmith stared at him wide-eyed, all bewildered innocence.
“’Course,” he replied, “I’m just fuckin’ with him.”