We have some promising places to look for Alesha's wayward daughter. Tipping and thanking the cook and the servers loosens shoulder muscles and tongues alike, a bit of magic that even worked on Earth; and saying that we're looking for my friend's lost child and - I suppose - her squire elicits immediate sympathy. I'm expeditiously directed to the nearby Temple of Flamma, and told it's a also good place to get potions and potables no general store can brew up at twice the price, as long as we're adventurers throwing dragon hoards around; and besides, it's in Flamma's interest to protect children.  Much like her stepbrother Sylphan, she's a child of greater gods, after all.

It shouldn't surprise me all that much that the Flammite temple is a brewery and bakery, given the whole witches and brewing thing.  It does throw me for a second that so many of the priests go shirtless and the priestesses damn near it. Because she's a love goddess, of course, and they offer love advice and services I don't need thanks a bunch.

They do indicate a golden bowl I stole, or stole back, from Strawberry Shortcake's goons back on the pirate base on the Shores of Awakening, and ask me if I'm here to offer a libation to the goddess.   It occurs that this is a very good idea - I buy some wine and oil from the temple, even, to do it properly.  The good stuff isn't that expensive, here, right?  Copper Sheaves instead of silver Rooks?

I head towards the back and the altar proper, and I hear her before I see her.

"Why won't you just fucking answer me?!"

Whoever this is, they sound like they're close to sobbing.

"I know you're here," the strangled voice says, cracking from tenor to contralto.  "We'd be dead twice over if you weren't. So why don't you answer me? I can't believe-- God, I'm so tired of this shit."

I turn the corner and see a familiar face gasp, dragging paws down their tiger-striped face.  Frankie Bacon, Ubastim Alchemist, a player I met properly on the galleon that took us here.  The Leon del Aurora.

"God," they say, bundling their white and gold labcoat like robes around them, cold in front of the altar bonfire under the cauldron of Flamma. "I still have to tell my parents. What the fuck am I supposed to tell them if I can even find them!? Are they even still in their house or were they nerfed and stranded too? Are they in that fucking proto-shantytown? Do you know how long I looked for them last night?"

My first thought is ah, the Jewish approach to prayer.  

Then I shake my head, clear my throat, make my presence known. The libation bowl taps against my hip like a pistol in it's holster.

"Oh fuck—" they whirl around.

"Sorry," I say. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, uh, your voice carries."

"Deedee," Frankie Bacon says, in a much smaller voice than before. "I can explain."

I'm not sure what they need to explain, frankly, but I nod and reach for the bowl. 

I've got the wine, that'll work for an offering, just dump it from the bowl into the cauldron on the altar, right?  For a vow? I'm asking for help now for worship later, that's a vow, right?

"I'll listen," you say as you struggle with the wine cork. "Maybe I can even help - I'm here for someone else worried about family."

They run a hand over their head-fur, like a human might shove theirs through their hair. 

"Yeah," Frankie says softly. "I guess you could call it that. It'll do for now."

It'll do for now is an interesting way to put it; I'm not sure if I should be insulted.

They look at me like they're not sure how to start, though. Finally they say, "My parents... there was an accident... they're never not playing AWOo now."

I'm really not sure what to say to that. What to think. Except...

"I'm sorry," I say, bringing the bowl to the cauldron.

The words come to me, shaped by similar prayers, similar promises, similar covenants spoken by a thousand Mundane priests I've heard from my time playing this damn game for five years.

"Should this please you, Flamma, Black Cat of the Cauldron, keep our families warm at night and light for them the way back to us, and home. Do this for us and we will make a bonfire for you of woods with sweet smoke, to brew our tea and give to you our first cup. So I vow."

And then it occurs to me where I've heard Frankie's frustrations at not being listened to before.

"We are experiencing an unusually high number of prayers right now," I sing-song. "Your vow is very important to us..."

That startles a catte-laugh out of Frankie - a weary, slightly bitter, but amused purr.

"Fuck," they say. "You're right. That's exactly what this feels like and I'm the entitled shithead that thinks I should be jumped ahead in the queue anyway. It's not personal, it's just they're all busy."

They breathe out slowly.

"I mean, with everything being on fire, I imagine Flamma has a lot to do."  I realize that's a pun one second after I say it and shake my head. "Look... are you going to be okay? Have you got, like, food and shelter lined up? Contacted your FC? Cause like. Hikaru made it clear we do not want to see what life is like without the Well Fed and Well Rested bonuses."

"I... yeah," Frankie says. "I'm with the Rainbow Connection? I, uh, managed to check in at the guild house. The Happiness Hotel is going to be full to bursting when they let more players into the city, but they've got a bed for me now. And I thought maybe tomorrow I could check on the little flat my parents had here. It's on the other side of town, but..."

They shrug. "I mean, most of our equipment vanished, but it's pretty hard to disappear part of a building. So I'm hoping, maybe if I'm really lucky, I'll find them there."

They try to smile. It doesn't last more than a second or so.

"I probably won't be that lucky."

"It's still a lead," I murmur, reaching out a hand.  They let me rest it on their shoulder.  "Did you Sendjewel them?"

"Tried to," Frankie says, with a rueful expression. "But the Sendjewels are fucked up right now. You've noticed, right?"

"That my friends-list was a lot shorter?" I say.  "I had hoped that it's because it was just us."

"When I woke up on the Shores, the only people I could get ahold of were my usual party—well, most of them—and Emma, Dorothy, and Alora all woke up within a square mile of me. Everyone else on the list was inaccessible, until we started getting to town."

"So the range went from 'server-wide' to 'local.'" That's definitely something to bring up to Hikaru. Maybe there's some Forbidden Knowledge reason why that would help him figure this out... "I'm going to have to check the rest of my friendslist now that we're in Viacruz."

Then I take a deep breath. 

The flames at the bottom of the altar flicker.

Bacon just has...

"...a talent for finding the worst possible explanation..."

The air smells like incense and hops and malt, and I blink.

I do it too. Catastrophize. Beat myself up over the smallest mistakes and imagine the worst possible consequence. But how often does the worst happen, really?

"Uh... you're an alchy of - an Alchemist, right? And Flammite proper, I guess, instead of just boon shopping?"

"Yeah," Frankie says, with a twist of their mouth. "What do fundies say about Jesus? I've got a close, personal relationship with her."

"Great," I say, an exhalation. "Cause there are a lot of folks who'll need potions and pills. I can't be the only gu- girl here whose brain refuses to give us the Juice That Makes You Do Things."

Is that still true here, actually? Or is it true until - I cut that thought off. A bridge to burn not a moment sooner than after I cross it.

Frankie Bacon looks stricken. 

"Oh fuck," they say. "How many days has it been since I... Shit. Shit. God, fuck, and with how our minds from home imprint the same familiar pathways for us in order to pilot properly as ourselves—"

They shake their head, briskly. "Sorry, never mind, you don't need me getting technical on you, just. You're right."

"You and Heeks should definitely talk about the Forbidden Knowledge," I say, smiling despite myself. "But yeah. Brain's still... twisting into the same knots. And if any place would have the right medicine it's a Cattehaus."

Probably less expensive getting it prescribed here than on Earth, too. I frown.

"Yeah," they say. "I'm pretty sure there's a recipe for medieval medicinal speed in the archives. Not to mention what everyone else is going to need. God, I hope I can get the things I need for it in the city—even if it's too late to take any tonight, I could try to make it so I'll have it for the morning."

After a moment they add, "And I'll make yours too, whatever it is. For free. Honestly, it's the least I owe you."

"Uh -" I've made due without for. How long? "- I'll think about it. I have your..." I tap my send-jewel, which chimes in my ear. "Yeah."

It's about then that I get the call.

From Alesha. "A very minor lead. Come to the Cathedral, I can't explain here."

I keep my finger on the jewel as I answer. "Right, Leesh. I'll meet up with you soon."

And I shrug in Bacon's direction. Time's up, unfortunately.

They shake their head. "It's fine. Just — thanks. Talking to you was just what I needed."

"I get that a lot," I realize out loud, before leaving.

But as I go, I see Frankie turn to the altar, and when they think I'm out of earshot I hear them chuckle and tell Flamma: "You're a sneaky little witch."