Did I win?

Flynn watched the Kommanda warily. Sometimes even a monk ran across something he just didn't understand, and this power over ink was one of those oddities. He'd need a few hours of meditation in close proximity to the Kommanda in order to determine exactly how it was accomplished, magic, some sort of telekinesis, or spiritual help. The ease with which the Wolf used his ability suggested that whatever it was, it was innate, something he'd had for years, or was born with. Even if he figured it out, it wouldn't mean he could combat it. And so he presented himself as somewhat cowed by the Kommanda.

As for Red, she was nice to look at, and a pleasant distraction. He could sense her ire at having to make coffee, and couldn't avoid the slightly amused smile that came to his face at the interaction between the two. That probably lost him any brownie points he might have had in her eyes.  He could not resist adding his two bits at the end to Red's suggestion.

"Reeza wanted someone to play Candyland with, Cupcake. Don't take no for an answer. After all, you need three to make the game good, don't you. Flynn will play if you can get her to."

He turned then to the Kommanda. "I suppose you think I'm a discipline problem or something, considering you're putting me under the person least qualified to lead. Other than Cupcake."  He scratched his chin, thinking this over.

"Okay...before I answer, I'm going to clarify something. I was entirely calm up top there, allowing Reeza to attempt to hit me. I was less calm, and less than lucid, when I threw a punch at you. So, you have the right to punish me, I suppose, though you placed me in a position where that was the natural response."

The Kommanda arched his brow. "That's not an answer to the question at hand."

"Ah. But there's a reason I'm not answering it yet. I'm getting to it. The sequence of events up top is important to my argument that you should not be making such demands of me. Note I said should not, not could not. I acknowledge you have the capability to be a very good dictator should you so wish to be."

That brought a growl to the Kommanda's throat. " You're not making me like you very much at the moment, monk."

"You don't have to."  replied Flynn, shrugging. "But I still want to go over matters. First, I was at this establishment before any of you, and there was no signage that said Kommanda's territory, correct?"

The Kommanda nodded.

"Second, I had already set up camp, and indeed, I offered you all hospitality...with a misstep in mentioning the sorry state of the vehicle that brought you."  Flynn shrugged. "I'm not perfect."

"Now, Reeza wanted a piece of me...or rather the whole thing, if I remember correctly. I deduced that she would not be satisfied without a bit of physicality. So to defuse the situation, I made an offer. Do you remember what the offer was? "

The Kommanda nodded, eyes narrowing...the dog was entirely too damn reasonable in all he said. The tone of voice was certainly not condescending, that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that the canine was obviously so very used to getting his own way.

"If Reeza hit you, you'd apologise and be on your way. If Reeza didn't hit you, we would join you at your camp or some such." summarized the Kommanda.

"No...well, not completely right. Three tries. She had three tries."

Kommanda grunted. So far the dog wasn't wrong, anyway.

"Right...anyway, I feel the three tries are important in a way...but not as important as another factor. You, Kommanda. You're that factor. Acknowledged leader that you are, you stepped aside, and let Reeza come at me. To me, that implies an acceptance of the deal. Did you not make a deal?"

Crap. The dog had him. The Kommanda was a man of few words, but unfortunately also believed that actions could speak as loudly as words...and even if he had not said so, curiousity had got the best of him, and he had made a deal. He gritted his teeth and nodded.

"So, the question is...did I win?"

"What?" the Kommanda had expected Flynn to ask to leave, as that (to the Kommanda) had seemed to be the focus of the whole conversation. Had the Kommanda agreed to let the dog leave or not? And the answer was, non-verbally, yes.

"Did I win?"

"Reeza hit you, didn't she? Why does that matter now?"

Flynn scratched his chin..."Oh she hit me alright. But...well, she swung and missed...then she tried to kick me if memory serves, and immediately afterwards, launched the wrench at me...Did the two connected moves count as one attempt, or two? See one could have been considered a feint, I suppose...That's why I have to ask you. Or Red...impartial observers, or as close as I can get."

"I don't know...why does it matter?"

"I want to know if I have to apologise to Reeza or not. The other part of the deal was sharing a campfire, and having some hotdogs. I didn't say I'd leave if I won." Flynn grinned.

Double crap. Reeza was going to have his head for this. "You won, you little pissant. Go start the fire. We're apparently having a fire and some hotdogs. But you still threw a punch at me. If you're stayin', you're still under Reeza."

Flynn shrugged. "That's okay. She'll still know I won."  He whistled softly to himself as he headed up the steps...his smile grew wider as he heard Reeza's exasperated yell. "GOD DANGIT CUPCAKE! GET OFF MY LEG! I'M NOT PLAYING CANDYLAND!"

The End

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