Caprice was very much like the D, except more violent.
Grim found that out on his second night there. There were three fights his first night, which he thought at first was a fluke. Two more confrontations happened his second night.
He could get used to this, he supposed. But the high level of adrenaline that would need to be constantly maintained whenever someone even spoke would easily drain a lesser man – and he knew his “adrenaline” was fueled by the elements of fire and air.
His third night there, he was at the bar, watching a confrontation. This time, a sense of chivalry kicked in, and he went to defend the woman there. He was going to put up a shield before her, but the gunslinger was too fast for him, and shot the woman in the shoulder. She stepped back, a neat hole in her uniform and a ragged one out of the back. First, her skin reknitted, then her uniform did.
Well, Grim thought, she doesn’t need me. “See,” she said, “I can’t die. I’ve died sixty-seven times.”
“Wanna go for sixty-eight?” Grim asked. “It’s one less than that magic number of sixty-nine.”
“How would you do it?” she asked. “Be creative.”
“Thrown off a cliff.”
“Did that last week.”
“Steamroller.”
“Did it.”
“Zombies with guns and werewolves.”
“Vibora Bay.”
“Demons.”
“Downtown.”
“I’m at a loss,” Grim said, pondering how creative he could be. Torture, possibly. Killing? That was too easy.
“You know,” she said, “I never had molten silver poured down my throat and flow out of my belly.”
Grim snapped his fingers. “I can do that!” He said, “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”
One thing about Caprice is that it didn’t have power dampeners like the D did. He could easily use his summoning ability to summon silver, melt it in a beaker with his own fire ability, and make it into a cornucopia so that there would be endless silver coming out of it. He went back to the girl, who waited patiently for him. A small group of people had gathered around.
Grim said with a smile, “Okay, put your head back and open wide!” He began to pour.
The girl’s scream turned into a gurgle. Grim put a hand on her chest and muttered a spell to keep the silver hot inside her body, so that it would pass through into her stomach. She started to bleed through her throat, and then, as she had wanted, the silver flowed to her stomach and burst out in a stench of entrails and stomach matter. She fell to her knees, then collapsed in a puddle of silver and blood.
Grim laughed. The rest of the patrons gave him a look as if to say, “What’re you, crazy?” One man in full armor went to the woman’s body and touched her. “M’Lady?” he said formally.
There was a shudder from the body. Then slowly, she put her hands up at her shoulders and pushed herself up. “Whew,” she said, “That was hot!”
“Did you enjoy that?” Grim asked, still grinning. That was fun. All kinds of thoughts of what to do next filled his mind.
“Not as much as I would have liked,” she replied, getting to her knees, “But I can cross that one off my bucket list!”
((“Really” happened with Double Down in Caprice, 9/22))