Writerverse: Table of Doom - Pink Elephants
More I Prefer the Mind Control. This is a bit of a reworking of what happens after Preston proposes to Ayli.
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“We need to celebrate,” Preston shouts, swaying like he’s drunk. Ayli? She’s acting drunk, too. Or possibly high. She keeps staring at her heart-shaped engagement ring and giggling her head off. I’m sitting on my couch, while the two of them are standing next to each other, facing me.
Ayli lets go of Preston and twirls around, her arms outstretched. “Can you believe it?” she breathes, beaming brightly enough to light up the whole fucking planet. Preston stares at her -- he’s mesmerized She is good-looking -- like all Zimarans are -- but that kind of staring? Fucking hell, he’s head over heels and dead serious about this whole “marrying her” thing, isn’t he?
I shift in my seat. “Celebrate how?” I ask.
“The way anybody celebrates anything. Getting drunk as can be,” Preston says, grinning. He puts an arm around Ayli, who leans into him, her grin matching his. She nods enthusiastically. So much fucking smiling. It would be nice if I felt as smiley as they did.
“I didn’t know you were even into getting drunk,” I mutter, looking at Ayli.
She laughs. It’s a light, tinkling sound, full of fucking joy. Her eyes sparkle. “And what makes you think I don’t like drinking?”
I raise an eyebrow. “How you abstained at that party we attended?” I say.
“I like to be lucid when I have to turn down people who hit on me,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “But if it’s just going to be people I know won’t make a pass, I do like to indulge.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Okay then. And who are you guys gonna invite to this, uh, celebration?”
Ayli looks thoughtful for a moment. “Just you and Xan, I think,” she murmurs.
Preston just keeps grinning. “We don’t need anybody else to have an awesome time, do we?” he says.
I shrug, though my stomach starts twisting a bit -- how is Xan going to react when he finds out Ayli accepted Preston’s proposal? From what I could tell, he won’t mind too much, but the whole thing is fucking weird. Ayli is a Princess of this planet -- there are, like, restrictions and stuff on what she can do. I’m pretty sure getting married like a human girl would isn’t supposed to be an option. Though it doesn’t seem much different than if, in some alternate universe, I actually did a Soulbreaking with Xan.
“I guess we don’t need anyone else. I should, uh, call Xan,” I say. “You want me to invite him over now?”
Ayli and Preston both nod. I grab my fancy as fuck phone -- it was a gift from Xan -- and call him.
He picks up. “Hello, Dylan. How are you?” he says.
“I’m...fine,” I say, leaning back against my couch. “Um, can you come over to my place? Preston and Ayli wanna see you.”
“And do you want to see me?” he murmurs. His voice sounds kinda weird.
“Sure, Xan, I wanna see you. Are you free now?” I say.
“I’m free,” he says. “I’ll be over in just a few minutes. See you soon.”
“Okay.” I nod, which is stupid because he can’t fucking see me. Xan hangs up, and I put my phone away. Ayli squeals loud and sharp enough to make me wince.
She winces, too. And then giggles. “Sorry about that, I’m just...getting married,” she says.
“I know,” I mutter. I can’t help looking at the door to see if Xan’s here yet, which is another layer of stupid because I just fucking called him.
Preston hugs Ayli even tighter, and they look like a slightly alien version of...some Valentine’s day commercial or something. If I squint, I swear I see little cartoon hearts floating above them, and, as far as I know, cartoon heart generation is not one of the Zimarans’ powers. Not that Ayli ever uses her powers.
After a few more minutes, Xan arrives -- my doorbell beeps and his image appears on my viewscreen. I let him in, and, for no reason I can understand, actually fucking hug him in greeting. He tenses for a moment before returning the hug.
“Hey,” I murmur.
“Hello. You’re in a good mood, aren’t yo?” he says.
“Uh...your sister has kind of infected me,” I mutter. Only then do I remember to let go of Xan. He’s kinda reluctant to pull away, and we get stuck in this awkward half-hug for a couple moments.
Preston raises an eyebrow at us, and Ayli looks over, curious. Then, she lets go of Preston and races towards Xan -- she hugs him, too.
Xan’s eyes widen. “Ayli?” he says.
She lets go and sticks the hand with the ring right in his face. “Look. Look, I’m getting married. Preston proposed,” she squeals.
“Married?” Xan stares at the ring, blinking. “He really proposed?”
“He did.” Ayli puts her hand down. She nods and bounces on the balls of her feet. Her eyes sparkle in that particular Zimaran way.
Preston waves, before looking away from Xan. Is he blushing? Well, Xan is his, um, fiancee’s brother. Older brothers are supposed to be super protective, right?
“We should celebrate,” Ayli says, smiling. “Do you think you could get the kitchen staff to give us a bottle of Champagne? They like you.”
“Champagne? Like Earth Champagne?” Xan looks unsure.
“Yeah,” Preston says, looking at him. “Can you?”
“Imports are down because of tensions with Earth. I don’t know if the kitchen will be able to spare us any Champagne to celebrate,” Xan mutters, shaking his head. “I can check, I suppose.”
* * *
Somehow, Xan did get his hands on, like, four bottles of Champagne. They’re smallish bottles, maybe -- but there’s fucking four of them.
I goggle at the bucket of ice he’s holding, all four bottles inside. “How are we gonna drink that much?” I breathe.
We’re sitting in a “party lounge” Xan also somehow procured for us. I can’t help staring at the door in the back of the room. It’s decorated with a symbol I’ve come to know well -- that’s the symbol for “special rooms” used specifically for, well, sex. They have all kinds of stuff in those. The room we’re in isn’t exactly unsexy, either. We’re sitting in the corner on a huge squishy black couch, with a low, flat table in front of it. The walls are some kind of silvery wallpaper stuff. The table’s made of some kind of transparent something, and it glows each color of the rainbow, cycling through all of them. I can’t seem to fucking get over how cool Zimaran decor is.
“If we can’t drink all of this, I’ll give it to the kitchen staff -- they’ll be happy to finish it off for us,” Xan murmurs, smiling.
“Let me pop the cork,” Preston says. He grabs one of the bottles and twists the cork out, sending Champagne spraying everywhere. Good thing he pointed the thing away from us.
Four flutes made of weird alien iridescent glass sit on the table. Preston pours some for everyone. Ayli lifts hers up, but she doesn’t take a sip. “It’s Earth custom to clink glasses and say ‘cheers,’ isn’t it?” she says.
“I think so,” I say. I lift my glass. So do Xan and and Preston.
We all clink our glasses together. “Cheers,” everyone says.
Preston puts his arm around Ayli and they each start drinking their Champagne. Nobody says anything about how weird this all is -- how exactly is Ayli going to get married like a human would? Will her dads even let her do that?
It’s strangely empty in this huge party lounge -- it’s not a tiny room, and Ayli requested that nobody else join us, meaning no servers or anything. Not that we would need servers just for some Champagne. But all the other tables and seats are empty, and it’s just kinda weird.
I’m all too fucking aware of how close Xan is to me. There’s, like, no space between us -- I can feel his body heart. The weirdest part? I don’t mind.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” Ayli says, stretching out her last syllable right before she takes a huge gulp of Champagne and finishes her flute. Her eyes twinkle with a mischievousness that doesn’t seem like her.
“What are you going to do?” Xan murmurs, taking a small sip of his drink. Unlike Ayli, his is only about halfway finished.
Me? Maybe a third. As weird as it may be, I kinda prefer native Zimaran alcohols if I’m gonna drink. Like that blue stuff they served at that one party.
“I’m going to get emancipated,” she says, flinging one arm into the air.
Xan’s eyes bug out of his head and he sprays his drink out of his mouth in a jet to rival when Preston popped the Champagne cork.
What the fuck? Why is what Ayli said worthy of such a spit take?
“Excuse me? Um, what does that mean?” I mutter, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to be a Princess anymore,” she says.
Preston takes his arm away from her. His eyes bug out enough to rival Xan’s. “Wh-what?” he says.
Ayli smiles and pours herself another glass, filling it all the way to the top of the flute. When she picks it up, it spills. Everyone’s just fucking staring at her, because...what the fuck?
She takes another huge gulp of her drink. “Xan’s already been picked to be King -- what do they need me to be a Princess for? If I give up my titles, I can go to Earth. Legally, my dads have to let me.”
“But -- but you’ll lose your inheritance. all of it. Legal precedent says they’ll freeze all your assets,” Xan breathes, obvious disbelief on his face.
“That is not a problem.” Ayli fucking smirks.
“Uh, not having money is kind of a problem,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.
“It’s not,” she says, still smirking as she takes another sip. “I’ve been sneaking money into a private account under a different name almost nobody knows about. It’s not easily traceable to royal anything. I can easily take that money to Earth.”
“Wow, really?” Preston breathes, staring at her. “You’re a genius.”
“Is that, um, legal?” I mutter, raising an eyebrow.
Ayli just smirks again. I decide I don’t wanna fucking know.
“We’ll take a regular commuter ship, if there are any going, or else I have a few friends who’ll take us to Earth,” she says.
“When -- when would you want to go?” Preston asks. His eyes shine with some kinda hope, like he thinks they’re gonna leave for Earth right now.
“As soon as possible. I just have to notify Dad and Father and take care of some legal things,” she says, flashing Preston a huge grin before drinking yet more Champagne.
Wait a second...”What about, like, political implications? Won’t Zimara -- and, um, Earth -- freak the fuck out if the Princess is not longer a Princess?” I say. I take a sip of my drink and think I need some of that fancy Zimaran blue stuff to deal with this situation.
Xan nods. “Dylan’s right -- there will be an uproar. And I doubt President Georgia Bradley will be so likely to let you immigrate to the National States,” he says.
“There’s more than one country on Earth. I’ve done my research on this. I would have done it even if I hadn’t met Preston,” she murmurs, swaying slightly.
Preston notices her swaying, because he puts his arm back around her. “Maybe we should, uh, get you back to your place,” he says.
“Right,” she murmurs.
With Preston’s help, she stands up. And almost fucking falls down. Luckily, Preston catches her. Xan and I share a look -- we’re both baffled and just not sure what to fucking think.
“See you guys later,” Preston says, flashing us a giant grin.
They walk out of the room, Ayli needing all the support she can fucking get -- she’s staggering.
Xan shakes his head. “There really will be an uproar over this,” he sighs.
“Well, you said the Zimaran public already thought she was kinda an oddball, right? So, like, maybe this won’t be too bad?” I say. Yeah, I definitely need some of that Zimaran blue stuff.
He does not look convinced. “Perhaps. They were apparently pleased with my being Chosen, oddly enough. So who knows what they’ll think?”
I physically bite down on my tongue -- on purpose -- to stop myself from speaking up about that. The public was happy because Xan isn’t power-hungry like Krun or a sexual deviant by Zimaran standards like Ayli. And he, like, cares about people. So, that’s a plus in your ruler. But this is all old news, only Xan still hasn’t accepted it.
“Who knows?” I say, shrugging.
Right now? I feel like I don’t know much of fucking anything. Everything has gotten so strange, and it just seems to keep getting stranger.
---------
“We need to celebrate,” Preston shouts, swaying like he’s drunk. Ayli? She’s acting drunk, too. Or possibly high. She keeps staring at her heart-shaped engagement ring and giggling her head off. I’m sitting on my couch, while the two of them are standing next to each other, facing me.
Ayli lets go of Preston and twirls around, her arms outstretched. “Can you believe it?” she breathes, beaming brightly enough to light up the whole fucking planet. Preston stares at her -- he’s mesmerized She is good-looking -- like all Zimarans are -- but that kind of staring? Fucking hell, he’s head over heels and dead serious about this whole “marrying her” thing, isn’t he?
I shift in my seat. “Celebrate how?” I ask.
“The way anybody celebrates anything. Getting drunk as can be,” Preston says, grinning. He puts an arm around Ayli, who leans into him, her grin matching his. She nods enthusiastically. So much fucking smiling. It would be nice if I felt as smiley as they did.
“I didn’t know you were even into getting drunk,” I mutter, looking at Ayli.
She laughs. It’s a light, tinkling sound, full of fucking joy. Her eyes sparkle. “And what makes you think I don’t like drinking?”
I raise an eyebrow. “How you abstained at that party we attended?” I say.
“I like to be lucid when I have to turn down people who hit on me,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “But if it’s just going to be people I know won’t make a pass, I do like to indulge.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Okay then. And who are you guys gonna invite to this, uh, celebration?”
Ayli looks thoughtful for a moment. “Just you and Xan, I think,” she murmurs.
Preston just keeps grinning. “We don’t need anybody else to have an awesome time, do we?” he says.
I shrug, though my stomach starts twisting a bit -- how is Xan going to react when he finds out Ayli accepted Preston’s proposal? From what I could tell, he won’t mind too much, but the whole thing is fucking weird. Ayli is a Princess of this planet -- there are, like, restrictions and stuff on what she can do. I’m pretty sure getting married like a human girl would isn’t supposed to be an option. Though it doesn’t seem much different than if, in some alternate universe, I actually did a Soulbreaking with Xan.
“I guess we don’t need anyone else. I should, uh, call Xan,” I say. “You want me to invite him over now?”
Ayli and Preston both nod. I grab my fancy as fuck phone -- it was a gift from Xan -- and call him.
He picks up. “Hello, Dylan. How are you?” he says.
“I’m...fine,” I say, leaning back against my couch. “Um, can you come over to my place? Preston and Ayli wanna see you.”
“And do you want to see me?” he murmurs. His voice sounds kinda weird.
“Sure, Xan, I wanna see you. Are you free now?” I say.
“I’m free,” he says. “I’ll be over in just a few minutes. See you soon.”
“Okay.” I nod, which is stupid because he can’t fucking see me. Xan hangs up, and I put my phone away. Ayli squeals loud and sharp enough to make me wince.
She winces, too. And then giggles. “Sorry about that, I’m just...getting married,” she says.
“I know,” I mutter. I can’t help looking at the door to see if Xan’s here yet, which is another layer of stupid because I just fucking called him.
Preston hugs Ayli even tighter, and they look like a slightly alien version of...some Valentine’s day commercial or something. If I squint, I swear I see little cartoon hearts floating above them, and, as far as I know, cartoon heart generation is not one of the Zimarans’ powers. Not that Ayli ever uses her powers.
After a few more minutes, Xan arrives -- my doorbell beeps and his image appears on my viewscreen. I let him in, and, for no reason I can understand, actually fucking hug him in greeting. He tenses for a moment before returning the hug.
“Hey,” I murmur.
“Hello. You’re in a good mood, aren’t yo?” he says.
“Uh...your sister has kind of infected me,” I mutter. Only then do I remember to let go of Xan. He’s kinda reluctant to pull away, and we get stuck in this awkward half-hug for a couple moments.
Preston raises an eyebrow at us, and Ayli looks over, curious. Then, she lets go of Preston and races towards Xan -- she hugs him, too.
Xan’s eyes widen. “Ayli?” he says.
She lets go and sticks the hand with the ring right in his face. “Look. Look, I’m getting married. Preston proposed,” she squeals.
“Married?” Xan stares at the ring, blinking. “He really proposed?”
“He did.” Ayli puts her hand down. She nods and bounces on the balls of her feet. Her eyes sparkle in that particular Zimaran way.
Preston waves, before looking away from Xan. Is he blushing? Well, Xan is his, um, fiancee’s brother. Older brothers are supposed to be super protective, right?
“We should celebrate,” Ayli says, smiling. “Do you think you could get the kitchen staff to give us a bottle of Champagne? They like you.”
“Champagne? Like Earth Champagne?” Xan looks unsure.
“Yeah,” Preston says, looking at him. “Can you?”
“Imports are down because of tensions with Earth. I don’t know if the kitchen will be able to spare us any Champagne to celebrate,” Xan mutters, shaking his head. “I can check, I suppose.”
* * *
Somehow, Xan did get his hands on, like, four bottles of Champagne. They’re smallish bottles, maybe -- but there’s fucking four of them.
I goggle at the bucket of ice he’s holding, all four bottles inside. “How are we gonna drink that much?” I breathe.
We’re sitting in a “party lounge” Xan also somehow procured for us. I can’t help staring at the door in the back of the room. It’s decorated with a symbol I’ve come to know well -- that’s the symbol for “special rooms” used specifically for, well, sex. They have all kinds of stuff in those. The room we’re in isn’t exactly unsexy, either. We’re sitting in the corner on a huge squishy black couch, with a low, flat table in front of it. The walls are some kind of silvery wallpaper stuff. The table’s made of some kind of transparent something, and it glows each color of the rainbow, cycling through all of them. I can’t seem to fucking get over how cool Zimaran decor is.
“If we can’t drink all of this, I’ll give it to the kitchen staff -- they’ll be happy to finish it off for us,” Xan murmurs, smiling.
“Let me pop the cork,” Preston says. He grabs one of the bottles and twists the cork out, sending Champagne spraying everywhere. Good thing he pointed the thing away from us.
Four flutes made of weird alien iridescent glass sit on the table. Preston pours some for everyone. Ayli lifts hers up, but she doesn’t take a sip. “It’s Earth custom to clink glasses and say ‘cheers,’ isn’t it?” she says.
“I think so,” I say. I lift my glass. So do Xan and and Preston.
We all clink our glasses together. “Cheers,” everyone says.
Preston puts his arm around Ayli and they each start drinking their Champagne. Nobody says anything about how weird this all is -- how exactly is Ayli going to get married like a human would? Will her dads even let her do that?
It’s strangely empty in this huge party lounge -- it’s not a tiny room, and Ayli requested that nobody else join us, meaning no servers or anything. Not that we would need servers just for some Champagne. But all the other tables and seats are empty, and it’s just kinda weird.
I’m all too fucking aware of how close Xan is to me. There’s, like, no space between us -- I can feel his body heart. The weirdest part? I don’t mind.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” Ayli says, stretching out her last syllable right before she takes a huge gulp of Champagne and finishes her flute. Her eyes twinkle with a mischievousness that doesn’t seem like her.
“What are you going to do?” Xan murmurs, taking a small sip of his drink. Unlike Ayli, his is only about halfway finished.
Me? Maybe a third. As weird as it may be, I kinda prefer native Zimaran alcohols if I’m gonna drink. Like that blue stuff they served at that one party.
“I’m going to get emancipated,” she says, flinging one arm into the air.
Xan’s eyes bug out of his head and he sprays his drink out of his mouth in a jet to rival when Preston popped the Champagne cork.
What the fuck? Why is what Ayli said worthy of such a spit take?
“Excuse me? Um, what does that mean?” I mutter, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not going to be a Princess anymore,” she says.
Preston takes his arm away from her. His eyes bug out enough to rival Xan’s. “Wh-what?” he says.
Ayli smiles and pours herself another glass, filling it all the way to the top of the flute. When she picks it up, it spills. Everyone’s just fucking staring at her, because...what the fuck?
She takes another huge gulp of her drink. “Xan’s already been picked to be King -- what do they need me to be a Princess for? If I give up my titles, I can go to Earth. Legally, my dads have to let me.”
“But -- but you’ll lose your inheritance. all of it. Legal precedent says they’ll freeze all your assets,” Xan breathes, obvious disbelief on his face.
“That is not a problem.” Ayli fucking smirks.
“Uh, not having money is kind of a problem,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.
“It’s not,” she says, still smirking as she takes another sip. “I’ve been sneaking money into a private account under a different name almost nobody knows about. It’s not easily traceable to royal anything. I can easily take that money to Earth.”
“Wow, really?” Preston breathes, staring at her. “You’re a genius.”
“Is that, um, legal?” I mutter, raising an eyebrow.
Ayli just smirks again. I decide I don’t wanna fucking know.
“We’ll take a regular commuter ship, if there are any going, or else I have a few friends who’ll take us to Earth,” she says.
“When -- when would you want to go?” Preston asks. His eyes shine with some kinda hope, like he thinks they’re gonna leave for Earth right now.
“As soon as possible. I just have to notify Dad and Father and take care of some legal things,” she says, flashing Preston a huge grin before drinking yet more Champagne.
Wait a second...”What about, like, political implications? Won’t Zimara -- and, um, Earth -- freak the fuck out if the Princess is not longer a Princess?” I say. I take a sip of my drink and think I need some of that fancy Zimaran blue stuff to deal with this situation.
Xan nods. “Dylan’s right -- there will be an uproar. And I doubt President Georgia Bradley will be so likely to let you immigrate to the National States,” he says.
“There’s more than one country on Earth. I’ve done my research on this. I would have done it even if I hadn’t met Preston,” she murmurs, swaying slightly.
Preston notices her swaying, because he puts his arm back around her. “Maybe we should, uh, get you back to your place,” he says.
“Right,” she murmurs.
With Preston’s help, she stands up. And almost fucking falls down. Luckily, Preston catches her. Xan and I share a look -- we’re both baffled and just not sure what to fucking think.
“See you guys later,” Preston says, flashing us a giant grin.
They walk out of the room, Ayli needing all the support she can fucking get -- she’s staggering.
Xan shakes his head. “There really will be an uproar over this,” he sighs.
“Well, you said the Zimaran public already thought she was kinda an oddball, right? So, like, maybe this won’t be too bad?” I say. Yeah, I definitely need some of that Zimaran blue stuff.
He does not look convinced. “Perhaps. They were apparently pleased with my being Chosen, oddly enough. So who knows what they’ll think?”
I physically bite down on my tongue -- on purpose -- to stop myself from speaking up about that. The public was happy because Xan isn’t power-hungry like Krun or a sexual deviant by Zimaran standards like Ayli. And he, like, cares about people. So, that’s a plus in your ruler. But this is all old news, only Xan still hasn’t accepted it.
“Who knows?” I say, shrugging.
Right now? I feel like I don’t know much of fucking anything. Everything has gotten so strange, and it just seems to keep getting stranger.