Never mind the bollocks, here's the Flaming Stools!

Nearing base camp, you swear you smell- All of a sudden, you’re running and, turning a corner, find yourself shouting in excitement.

“Is that coffee!?”

“Agh!” There’s a loud thump as Jorrel jolts and drops a sack he’d been carrying. He chuckles, bend forward, “Got me good. Real spooked there.”

“Sorry,” you yell, unable to contain your excitement. “But, for real!? No old people trick or tiny robots in disguise?”

“Yes. It’s real coffee. Had to fight for it, too. Bunch of spider-wannabees that sprayed me with it. Some got in my mouth.” Jorrel’s eye twitches slightly. “Okay, some got in my mouth when they sprayed me and I drank a lot, too.”

You just can’t stop smiling and doing tiny jumps. Actual coffee. Shame you’re probably going to sell it, but dammit, you’re swiping enough to make yourself a cop. Or twenty, if there’s an exceptional workload… honestly, you’re going to have twenty cups no matter what. Preferably within seconds of each other. Noticing the subtle bouncing on your chest, gravity reminds you how gross it is to display your horrid deformity like that – yes, even through your jacket – and you end up doing jumping jacks without the jumping. So… wailing your arms like an idiot, is what you’re doing.

“What’s all this noise about?” Mute asks as he enters, rolling the not-stool, “Holy crap, is that coffee!? Shiv…” Mute warns too late, you’ve already seen it. You. Will. Drink. Coffee.

Jorrel looks at Mute then at you. Then he hands each of you a thumbs up and goes, “Niiiice…”

Embarrassingly it takes you too long too realize what he’s referring too. It’s only when you – for very important reasons – check out Mute’s cats, remember that you, too, are only wearing a jacket and a pair of teal underpants. Having experienced being actually lit on fire, the warmth in your cheeks pale in comparison. But only slightly.

“It’s not like that!” You mutter to the floor. “I was hot and Mute had to tear off my clothes!”

Jorrel hoots, and you hear a slap, as Mute introduces the palm of his hand to his face.

“No!” You feel frustration rise in you. It feels like wanting to stomp something, like, say, the floor, real hard. “Mute’s stool lit on fire!”

“Gross,” you hear Emalie say. How long has she been standing there?

Even Mute is snickering, as Jorrel manages to stop laughing for long enough to say, “I know! I don’t want to hear any complaints about our group name after this. Oh! From now on we’re called Mute’s Flaming Stool.”

You’re the only one not laughing. It’s not a nice feeling. Not nice at all.

“For real though,” waning off a laughter high, Mute goes on to say, “It did set us on fire. Both of us.”

“Oh…” Jorrel says deadpan. "Shouldn't you have, you know," he gestures his entire body, "burns everywhere?"

Mute, confounded, looks at you. You look at him. You look at Emalie, she’s looking at Jorrel, who’s looking at you, so you look at him, but when you do, he’s already looking back to Mute, who is lo-- This goes on for a while. By the end of it, both you and Mute just shrug with a I ‘dunno noise.

“Ancient techno-magic?” Emalie propose, which all you happily accept to not think too much about it.

You all gather around Mute’s fiery stool – frick, now he’s got you doing it! – The boys competing to out think each other with loud HMMM noises.

"Would you guys shut the frick up?" Emalie snaps. They both do. Then she turns to you, "Shiv, you think you can, like, turn it on or something?"

"Maybe," you reply and crouch down. "Huh, it's saying something else now."

Jorrel and Emalie looks slightly confused, but Mute motions for you to go on.

"It's a tiny animation. Couple of dots forming a row the, 'Boot 100% awaiting activation phrase."

"Same as with Robbington," Jorrel says excitedly. "Think the same phrase works?"

The group stands in silence for a while, collectively handing the stool a staring beatdown.

"Way I see it," Jorrel continues, "We can turn it on here or bring it back to Shiv's workshop and turn it on there." Jorrel looks to the group. A little more at Mute than the rest of you.

You say, "It might only work here. Some bots are bound to the building we've found them. So, it's always a gamble. On the other hand, I got all tools and restraints there."

"Right," Emalie acknowledges, "Since it's a fire-starter, it might try to violently **** us when we turn it on. But it might be better taking it on here, rather than not at all."

Jorrel thinks. "Right. I need to talk out loud for a moment, stay with me."