Eight Legs Too Many || ONC 2021 and 2022

Chapter 10: Shiori does not appreciate subpar hotel accommodations

Devland seemed to have decided that the way to ingratiate himself with Shiori was by buttering her up at every opportunity. Perhaps he was simply bored. Or maybe the thirtieth repeat of Laura X's You put a sonar to my heart was starting to chip away at his sanity.

"Your taste is phenomenal my dear Shiori," he said brightly over the chorus about dolphins frolicking in the Indian Ocean. "Simply stellar, the best taste of anyone I've ever met, but, ah, have you ever considered that not everyone might share your exquisite taste in music?"

"How sad for them," said Shiori, who was enjoying herself more than she had thought possible as she twiddled the volume to even more oppressive levels. "Well, I can't believe there wouldn't be a song in this album for everyone--she has such breadth to her music--we could always switch over to a different song in the track. The one about swimming among the octopi is one of my favorites."

A muscle twitched in Devland's jaw.

Shiori cackled inwardly. Shiori 1: Devland 0.

She couldn't help but notice that despite the aural torture, her travel companion seemed more relaxed than he had been a few hours ago. At the very least, he seemed to be showing her his true personality, instead of the fake-pleasant I-need-you-to-do-something-for-me-so-I'm-going-to-suck-up-to-you smile that had rubbed her so wrong up 'til now. At the moment, he was almost scowling. 

Shiori smirked in triumph.

She felt, in a strange way, liberated. It was the liberation one feels when one has decided there is no need to impress your travel companion (or even act like a sane human being in their presence), because said travel companion is despicable, a sleazebag, and not worth your time.

She still hadn't gotten over the fact that he'd banged a random bimbo last night.

In a bathroom, of all places!

Traffic had been shockingly light thus far, but now it was picking up; it was nowhere near rush hour, but perhaps people were hurrying to get home to beat the capybara plague. Still fighting the urge to scrub her brain out with bleach, Shiori switched lanes with mere inches to spare, so violently Devland let out a hiss of terror. A horn blared behind her.

"Well that's what you get for going so slowly!" Shiori shouted, slamming her horn in response. "Asshole!"

"Has anyone ever suggested," said Devland, his hands white on the seatbelt, "that you may have... how to put this... anger management issues?"

"Oh yes, quite often, actually," Shiori said. She shot him a fiendishly sunny smile, and then crossed two lanes without bothering to signal. (Devland, at this point, had covered his eyes). "It's why I listen to so much Laura X. There's a very calming song in her album about killer whales, and another about swordfish. I always listen to it when I need to relax."

"Will switching to that song make you stop changing lanes because if so--Shiori, there's a truck on your left—"

"I see it," Shiori snapped. "I'm not blind."

"Are you sure, because—TO YOUR RIGHT—"

"Ugh," said Shiori, swerving back into the first lane and narrowly avoiding a fender-bender with the big mac truck ahead of them. "Why are these idiots driving so slowly?"

"You know," said Devland, hyperventilating, "I think I understand now how you crashed into Death a few days ago."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm an excellent driver."

"Excellent... at hitting pedestrians?"

"Rude!"

About to switch lanes again, Shiori caught a glimpse of Devland's face and paused. Green was not a good color on him. Or, for that matter, a good color on anyone inside her precious car. "Don't you dare puke," she warned.