[Storybit] Salyssa Talks Back
((This was written in response to a challenge posted on TBDF, about what your character would say to you, the player. Or something like that. Anyway, I've posted it and the next one there; I'm posting them here mostly so I can keep track of my writing.))
When I came out of my room, I smelled smoke.
It obviously wasn't the smell of an uncontrolled fire - but it wasn't cigarette smoke, either; something sweeter, with a harsh edge to it. The smell seemed to climb up into my head and make the world a little distant. I followed it into the dining room, to the hand of the extraordinarly slender blonde woman with long, pointed ears sitting at the table. We stared at each other for a long minute, before she took another deep drag off her cigarette.
I finally found my voice, though it came out much quieter and more wavery than I would have liked. "Could you please take that outside, Salyssa?"
She held my gaze in a long, cool pause, then shrugged and stood up. Brushing past me on her way through the kitchen to the back porch, my hair stood up on end for a moment with a crackle of energy. I'd never tasted energy before, but the rotten, metallic tang was unmistakeable: she had her demon armor up. I took a deep breath, sneezed, and followed her out to the porch.
In the diffuse light of an overcast morning, it was much more obvious that she was not in the peak of health. The bones in her face stood out sharp and clear against the bruised hollows of her cheeks and around her eyes. Sal stuck the cigarette in her lips, leaned one hip against the railing of the porch, and used her hands to twist her hair together, then tie it into a sloppy knot against the back of her head. I recognized the move - I'd done it myself, many times. She caught my look and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile.
"Yeah, I'm thinking of cutting mine off, too," she said, gesturing at my own short, brown hair. "Pain in the ass to take care of, always getting in your way, huh?"
I nodded slowly as I pulled out a chair and sat down, still staring at the blonde elf. "Salyssa..."
"Sal," she said, turning to look at the busy road on the other side of the backyard fence.
"Sal," I said, then stopped a moment to think. "Sal... how did you get here?"
She watched the cars, finishing off the last half-inch of her cigarette before putting it out in one of the ashtrays normally used by my sister in law and various houseguests. A car with a particularly loud sound system thumped past, and she winced as she turned to look at me. "This is an - interesting world you have here," she said, taking a small leather case out of the pouch at her waist and withdrawing a fresh cigarette. "I take it the demons haven't found it yet?"
"Yet?" I echoed, then shook my head. "Dammit, Sal..."
"I've been sitting in that room by myself with nobody for company except a couple of demons and the demons that are already in my head, with the knowledge I have and the expectation that I could die horribly at any minute, for months." Her stare was bitterly cold. "You have no right to ask *anything* of me."
I inhaled, leaning back in the chair, thinking of justifications and apologies. Before I could put together something to say, she turned away, looking out over the road again and lighting the fresh cigarette.
"You know," she said quietly, "what I did and why. What I went through. What's happening to me now... and where I'm going." She blew a stream of fragrant smoke at the road, then turned her head to look at me appraisingly. "You know because you set me up and put me through it."
"Things - I didn't have control over everything, some of it was other people's ideas, and I had other people to think about, there's a flow to the story -" I stopped as she held up her hand.
"I know. I was there, remember?" She didn't smile. "And you never thought I was real... even though I'm so obviously one of your own reflections."
We looked at each other with the rumble of traffic in the background, as a light rain began to fall. Many things went through my mind, but nothing came out. Eventually she nodded.
"Do I blame you? You're my hallucination, you know, as much as I am yours." She tilted her head back slightly, a gesture I was well familiar with, and smiled. "You can pass this off as fiction, and I can pass it off as madness. But you know as well as I do that this isn't a one-way street. I let you do things, be things, that you can't. In return, you hand me the rope to hang myself with." She took one more pull, then stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. "You've no-one to blame but yourself if I strangle on it." Her hands glowed with a sickly greenish-black darkness, and a void opened before her. With a sarcastic salute, she stepped through the hole and was gone.
When I came out of my room, I smelled smoke.
It obviously wasn't the smell of an uncontrolled fire - but it wasn't cigarette smoke, either; something sweeter, with a harsh edge to it. The smell seemed to climb up into my head and make the world a little distant. I followed it into the dining room, to the hand of the extraordinarly slender blonde woman with long, pointed ears sitting at the table. We stared at each other for a long minute, before she took another deep drag off her cigarette.
I finally found my voice, though it came out much quieter and more wavery than I would have liked. "Could you please take that outside, Salyssa?"
She held my gaze in a long, cool pause, then shrugged and stood up. Brushing past me on her way through the kitchen to the back porch, my hair stood up on end for a moment with a crackle of energy. I'd never tasted energy before, but the rotten, metallic tang was unmistakeable: she had her demon armor up. I took a deep breath, sneezed, and followed her out to the porch.
In the diffuse light of an overcast morning, it was much more obvious that she was not in the peak of health. The bones in her face stood out sharp and clear against the bruised hollows of her cheeks and around her eyes. Sal stuck the cigarette in her lips, leaned one hip against the railing of the porch, and used her hands to twist her hair together, then tie it into a sloppy knot against the back of her head. I recognized the move - I'd done it myself, many times. She caught my look and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile.
"Yeah, I'm thinking of cutting mine off, too," she said, gesturing at my own short, brown hair. "Pain in the ass to take care of, always getting in your way, huh?"
I nodded slowly as I pulled out a chair and sat down, still staring at the blonde elf. "Salyssa..."
"Sal," she said, turning to look at the busy road on the other side of the backyard fence.
"Sal," I said, then stopped a moment to think. "Sal... how did you get here?"
She watched the cars, finishing off the last half-inch of her cigarette before putting it out in one of the ashtrays normally used by my sister in law and various houseguests. A car with a particularly loud sound system thumped past, and she winced as she turned to look at me. "This is an - interesting world you have here," she said, taking a small leather case out of the pouch at her waist and withdrawing a fresh cigarette. "I take it the demons haven't found it yet?"
"Yet?" I echoed, then shook my head. "Dammit, Sal..."
"I've been sitting in that room by myself with nobody for company except a couple of demons and the demons that are already in my head, with the knowledge I have and the expectation that I could die horribly at any minute, for months." Her stare was bitterly cold. "You have no right to ask *anything* of me."
I inhaled, leaning back in the chair, thinking of justifications and apologies. Before I could put together something to say, she turned away, looking out over the road again and lighting the fresh cigarette.
"You know," she said quietly, "what I did and why. What I went through. What's happening to me now... and where I'm going." She blew a stream of fragrant smoke at the road, then turned her head to look at me appraisingly. "You know because you set me up and put me through it."
"Things - I didn't have control over everything, some of it was other people's ideas, and I had other people to think about, there's a flow to the story -" I stopped as she held up her hand.
"I know. I was there, remember?" She didn't smile. "And you never thought I was real... even though I'm so obviously one of your own reflections."
We looked at each other with the rumble of traffic in the background, as a light rain began to fall. Many things went through my mind, but nothing came out. Eventually she nodded.
"Do I blame you? You're my hallucination, you know, as much as I am yours." She tilted her head back slightly, a gesture I was well familiar with, and smiled. "You can pass this off as fiction, and I can pass it off as madness. But you know as well as I do that this isn't a one-way street. I let you do things, be things, that you can't. In return, you hand me the rope to hang myself with." She took one more pull, then stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. "You've no-one to blame but yourself if I strangle on it." Her hands glowed with a sickly greenish-black darkness, and a void opened before her. With a sarcastic salute, she stepped through the hole and was gone.