Metaworld: At the Sign of the "Who Gives a Shit", part 1
Hunter had been acting oddly all day, even by her standards. She was speaking a little quicker, fidgeting more than usual, tapping her fingers against random surfaces, and jiggling her legs whenever she sat down. She ate her dinner (stuffed pork chops with sautéed greens…Smoker was feeling experimental that night) with her usual speed, but none of her usual enjoyment. If it had been anybody other than Hunter, Smoker would have assumed that the smaller woman was nervous about something.
Given that it was Hu nter, though, she decided that the obnoxious little stray had been mainlining energy drinks again, and still had the caffeine jitters.
“That was good. Are you done yet? Can we go?” said the bouncy little Asian, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her ever-present kitty hoodie.
Smoker grimaced and passed her a paper napkin. “The way you bolted it, it’s a wonder you could tell what it was, much less how.”
“Of course I know what it was, you still have some on your plate. God, you eat slow.” She knotted and unknotted her napkin as she spoke.
“So I prefer to savor my meals, unlike some people.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re all civilized and stuff. Will you please wrap it up?”
“I don’t know what your rush is. It’s still early, and it’s not like this place is going to grow legs and walk away.”
“…you’d be surprised.” Muttered Hunter, slumping back in her chair, frustration etched into her features. She absentmindedly wiped her still messy fingers on her crumpled napkin. Smoker mentally filed that away as weirdness exhibit number 4; normally Hunter licked her fingers clean.
“So, this is some kind of bar, right?”
“Sortof, yeah…I mean, it has a bar, in the part of it I want to take you tonight. You’ll see.”
“Hmmph.” Smoker didn’t know how she’d let herself be talked into this. She hated bars, on general principle that they were almost invariably too crowded, too loud, too expensive, and too smelling of other people’s smoke. (And in the worst cases, too smelling of other people’s used alcohol.) “This place got a name?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what it’s going to be tonight. It changes depending on the situation.”
“…what.”
Smoker squinted and blinked a few times. The letters on the sign refused to change. She read it aloud, not quite believing the words that were coming out of her mouth. “’Who Gives a Shit what we call ourselves. If you can find us, you were obviously meant to be here!’? What in tarnation…?”
Hunter laughed, sounding a little higher pitched than normal, and slung her arm around her tall friends shoulders. “Awwww, look at that! They knew you were coming, and named the place especially for you!”
“…I refuse to dignify that with a comment.” She sighed deeply, and reached for a fresh cigarette. As she lit it (her lighter taking an unusually long time to flare up, she noticed, and made a note to check the fuel level), she took looked over the exterior of the place. It did little to inspire confidence; the oddly worn looking sign aside, it was basically just a shabby brick wall with a single metal door. A wire enforced window was in the door, but it was too smudged to see through properly. The only other decorations were a shabby movie poster, and a smaller more official looking sign with plain black lettering. Only instead of just saying “no loitering” or “no smoking”, it had a list of…well, more oddness.
“No issues, No linearity, No canon, No Heroics, No Villainy, No Sues, No Stus, No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem.”
Under that, someone had scrawled in a much untidier hand “But for the love of God, wear pants. We’re talking to you, Horse-boy.”
“Do we really have to go in?” said Smoker.
“What do you think?” said Hunter with a wicked grin.
“I’m thinking that you are going to owe me for this.”
“Oh, well…chances are you won’t completely remember this once we get back into context.” Said Hunter, pulling her through the door before she had a chance to question the odd remark. “I mean, I’m only just beginning to really remember the details of my last visit, now that we’re here.”
“What in the hell are you…” Smoker paused, freezing up. A sudden, impossible realization had hit her, but somehow she knew…on some level, she just knew…that it was completely true, and that she had somehow always known it. “…we’re…we’re not real are we? The two of us?”
Hunter was nodding, smiling a smile that could only be described as nervous now. “Nope Haha! We’re characters from a story. Well, if you want to be all technical about it, we’re fan-characters from a video game. We’re out of the context of our own story here…this place exists between realities, isn’t that cool, we can visit all sorts of cool places from here… so we’re allowed to notice that now. But only when we’re here. Kinda blew my mind when I first realized it, too.”
“Video game…computer game. About zombies. And our names are just placeholders until the author…we have a gorram author?...comes up with real names for us…we’re just named for the type of zombies we turn into…”
Hunter was rubbing the back of her head now, and looking a little bit distressed. “Yep. Genderswap characters of zombies, wild isn’t it? I mean, it sounds like something Jockey would come up with…oh wait, have we met her yet in this part of the timeline? I know we meet her at some point, though…I think. You’ll probably remember her soon enough. Tiny braided blonde, always talks about dead people like they are alive in a closet somewhere? That ring any bells with you?”
“I turn into a zombie because…because of yo…”
“Oh, look, they have a DDR machine now! I’m just going to check it out, why don’t you go get yourself a drink you look like you need a drink ok good see you in a few.” The smaller woman ran off, leaving the tall brunette staggering with her newly discovered existential crisis.
…………………………………………..
If Smoker had been in any condition to think clearly, she might have been very angry right then. At the moment, though, all she wanted was for her head to stop whirling. As she walked unsteadily to the bar, it slowly dawned on her that: 1) This place was much bigger on the inside than the outside, much bigger than her mind was letting her grasp at the moment, 2) the interior was far cleaner and more modern looking not just in comparison to the exterior, but in comparison to any bar she’d walked into, ever and 3) the patrons all looked like they had wandered in out of various novels, comic books, games, what have you…because, well, they most likely had.
“I’m losing my mind.” She muttered, as an anthropomorphic fox wit long blue hair and an over sized light purple t-shirt wandered past, arm in arm with a batty looking grey haired women in a vaguely nun-like outfit. “Or this is a prank. Yeah. Just gotta keep telling myself that.”
She scanned up and down the line of the long polished bar. There was only one empty seat left, at the very end. Sitting next to it was a person, chair swiveled to face the room, holding a very large book somehow balanced on her/his lap; the only thing she could see over the top of the tome was a mop of curly reddish hair. ‘Ok…hardly the weirdest thing in here.’
She stood and glared at the empty seat for several seconds before finally stepping forward. “’Scuse me, but JEEZUM CROW!” His face, his FREAKING FACE.
She felt her cheeks grow hot, and forced herself to look up into his eyes instead. He’d transferred the hand-roll to his left hand while she was staring, and was now blowing out smoke in a long stream, a questioning look in his eyes. “Yes?”
“You…” you have a huge, no I can’t say that, that’s rude “You’re a boy!” smooth, Smoker. She thought, doing a mental face-palm.
The red head, for his part, looked down at himself, taking another drag on hi cig as he did so. “I was when I checked this morning, and that seems to still be the case now. Well spotted!”
“You just…I could quite tell when you had the book up. All I could see was the lower parts of your legs and your hair.” She said, lamely, he face burning.
“Mmm…I’ve been told I have rather feminine hair, I’ll grant you.” He responded, giving it a tug. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?” He said it in such a matter of fact manner that she half wondered if that really was a question he got frequently.
“Yes, I mean NO, I…just wanted to know if anyone is sitting in the chair next to you.”
He glanced over at the other bar stool. “At the moment? No.”
Something about the way he said that made her pause. “…so, WAS there someone sitting there?”
“That there was.” He snubbed the last of his cig out, and pulled out a fresh paper scrap.
“Someone who is going to come back here?”
A handful of some kind of shredded tobacco…she assumed it was tobacco, it was a little hard to be certain… was fished from a small satchel, and placed in the paper scrap. “There is a good chance that he will return, yes. Don’t know when.” The fresh cigarette was swiftly rolled.
“A ‘he’ who will be upset if someone take his place?”
Cigarette went between lips. “Presumably that someone would be you?” He glanced her up and down, and raised one cupped hand up to the end of his cig. When he lowered it, it was glowing. She couldn’t help but stare. She didn’t think she’d seen him pull out a lighter…she was so busy staring that she actually missed the next thing he said, and had to ask him to repeat it.
“I said,” he snapped, with a faint look of annoyance on his face, “I can say with absolute certainty that he would be more upset if you didn’t sit there.” *
It was an odd statement, but at this point her head was pounding so badly that decided that was as close to a clear go ahead as she was going to get from this strange person. Muttering a quiet thanks, she pulled herself up onto the stool with a small sigh of relief. The odd little red-head had gone back to reading, to her more private relief. With the book blocking his face, it was easier to pretend that she hadn’t seen the giant burn scar.
*Not actually what he said the first time.
For those of you who are actually curious, what he really said was “Oh, he would be…maybe a little too happy if you did sit there. So, if you fancy being hit on by an oversexed stallion man, than help yourself; if not, you’d probably find one of the tables over there a touch more comfortable. Fair warning.”
……………………………………………………..
Hunter moved through the crowd skillfully, inwardly cringing at how cowardly she was being. She hadn’t wanted to leave Smoker by herself like that, she really hadn’t, but the look on her face just then…well, it hadn’t inspired a good deal of confidence. I hope she still wants anything to do with me after this. She thought morosely.
It was one of the more infuriating things about their (hopefully, not former) friendship with the older woman. Hunter could get in any number of fights with any of her other friends, and those would always just end with one or both parties laughing it off or hitting each other…or a combination of the two…and afterwards IT WOULD ALL BE OVER. But with Smoker…it was always all about feelings and shit. And it was always so damn complicated. And this one was exceptionally tricky. It wasn’t as if Hallmark made a “Sorry for accidentally turning you into a boil covered tongue zombie” card. How did you even begin to approach that topic?
Hunter absentmindedly watched the dancing pair on the machine; a nearly identical pair of men, except one was brunette, and the other was blonde. Oh, and one was wearing combat fatigue while the other was shirtless. The song came to an end, and the pair immediately fell to arguing about the outcome. Apparently the brunette’s score was just a little bit higher…
“You ever play that game?” Came a oddly accented, drawling voice behind her.
“Yeah. I play it with my buddies back home. Not nearly as much fun as parkouring, of course, but holy jesus Christ you are huge.”
The giant man laughed loudly, pushing his forelock back from his head as he did, and flicking his horse-like ear. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Sorry if I inadvertently loom.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it. You can’t help your height.”
“Either way…”he shrugged. “Anyway, you were just telling me that you were experienced with this game…would you say that you were any good?”
She drew herself up to her full height. “I’d say I was pretty frigging awesome, yeah.” As far as Hunter was concerned, modesty was something that happened to other people. “Why, you looking for a challenge?”
“Not me, no. But you see that cat-boy over there?” She looked where the giant horse-looking guy was pointing and narrowed her eyes. “He’s been talking shit all night about how nobody can beat him, and thus far, no one has been able to rise to the challenge. So I told him that I could pull any random person out of this crowd, and they could make him eat his words.”
“And then you found me?”
“You look like a likely one, yeah.”
“Heh, weirdo…well, assuming I take on the challenge, what’s in it for me?”
“Well, I’ve got money riding on this outcome. So, assuming you win…25% of the takings?”
“25% of what?”
He told her. She whistled. “Not bad. And if I lose?”
“Then nothing. It’s my bet, so it’s my penalty.”
“Hmmm…” She sized him up. It was an incredibly odd request to ask a stranger to be sure, but something about him felt…honest. Besides, if she won, and he went through with his end of the bargain…well, it probably wouldn’t hurt her chances with Smoker if she could buy her an apology gift.
“Ok, then…so how do I go about issuing challenges around here?”
He laughed loudly. “Sign up sheet’s over there. The name of the guy you are challenging is Kaz. Best of luck.”
She smiled as she went over to the board of names. Weird ass challenges or not, Hunter always felt better after a good workout. Her problems never seemed as severe then.
Maybe by the time she was finished kicking the cat-boy’s ass, she would have figured out what exactly she wanted to say to Smoker.
……………………………………………………
Smoker stared at the tall, blended drink that one of the bartenders, a pretty little blonde with a curiously stony expression, had slammed down in front of her. She hadn’t ordered it.
“I’m sorry, miss, I…”
“It’s on the house. Drink it, you’ll thank me.”
“Ok…but…what IS it?”
“It’s a nice tall glass of ‘shut up and drink it, it’s good for you.’ It’ll help with the transition pains.”
Smoker frowned at the pushy blonde. “I’m sorry. I’m really not in the habit of drinking things when I don’t know what’s in them.”
“Ma’am, I assure you, if I was going to slip you something strange, I would be a good deal more discreet about it than this.”
Somehow, Smoker was not reassured. She pushed the offered drink away. “No thank you.”
The bartender pushed it back. “You’ll thank me. Or at least be quietly grateful.” There was a slight edge to the last statement.
Smoker was beginning to feel incredibly irritated. She was confused about her place in the universe, trying to cope with some unpleasant revelations, her head hurts, and her lighter wasn’t lighting properly. She really did not need this shit! “I said no thank you. Please take the hint.”
The bartender looked like she was about to start arguing with her when a second bartender…a skinny brunette guy with numerous piercings and a small smile…walked up. “There a problem here?” His voice was soft, but she oddly enough, she had no trouble hearing him.
“Only that this one…” Smoker snapped, nodding towards the blonde, who only looked back impassively, “is trying to foist mystery smoothies off on unwilling people. Beyond that, I’m peachy.” It came out as more of a growl than she’d intended it too, but she was somewhat beyond caring.
“Oh dear. This is your first time here, isn’t it?” Said the brunette, a sympathetic look in his grey eyes. “I’m sorry…first time is almost always rough. I promise you it gets better.”
“This one would suck considerably less if she just drank the smoothie.” Said the blonde, face still expressionless. “You know full well I wouldn’t try to poison her.”
“Yet.” Muttered Smoker.
The brunette just smiled. “How about if we made a fresh one in front of you? That way you can see exactly what goes into it. Would that help?”
“Maybe…”
“Alison, would that work for you?”
The blonde sighed. “Fine. I just hate wasting the other one…”
The red head, not looking up from his book, piped up. “I’ll take it.” Smoker jumped; as quiet as her bar-mate was, she’d half forgotten he was there.
“Problem solved!” said the brunette, shoving the untouched drink over towards the smaller man. “I’ll leave you two to it. By the way, my name is Lance. If you need anything…ANYTHING at all…just give a yell.” He winked at her.
“What did I tell you about flirting with the patrons?” deadpanned Alison.
“That I would be punished severely for it?” He didn’t look at all disturbed by the prospect. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“We’ll discuss this later.”
“I look forward to it!” He laughed, and walked off.
“So where were we?” said Alison to Smoker, as if nothing had happened.
“Ummm…the drink?”
“Ah, yes…pay attention, I’m only going to do this once.”
(To be continued!)
Minor Edit: By virtue of me sitting here and screaming at my computer while hitting the live journal edit with big rocks, I finally managed to get the formatting to look right. Something that only I care about, I'm sure, but there you go.
Also, I corrected some typos, and added a footnote of sorts to the conversation between Smoker and Scar Faced Bar Dude. (Yes, he has a name. It will more than likely be revealed later, although if you are curious, you can more than likely find out what it is by digging through earlier entries in this journal.)
(No, I don't actually expect any of you to care enough to actually do that. XD)
Given that it was Hu nter, though, she decided that the obnoxious little stray had been mainlining energy drinks again, and still had the caffeine jitters.
“That was good. Are you done yet? Can we go?” said the bouncy little Asian, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her ever-present kitty hoodie.
Smoker grimaced and passed her a paper napkin. “The way you bolted it, it’s a wonder you could tell what it was, much less how.”
“Of course I know what it was, you still have some on your plate. God, you eat slow.” She knotted and unknotted her napkin as she spoke.
“So I prefer to savor my meals, unlike some people.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re all civilized and stuff. Will you please wrap it up?”
“I don’t know what your rush is. It’s still early, and it’s not like this place is going to grow legs and walk away.”
“…you’d be surprised.” Muttered Hunter, slumping back in her chair, frustration etched into her features. She absentmindedly wiped her still messy fingers on her crumpled napkin. Smoker mentally filed that away as weirdness exhibit number 4; normally Hunter licked her fingers clean.
“So, this is some kind of bar, right?”
“Sortof, yeah…I mean, it has a bar, in the part of it I want to take you tonight. You’ll see.”
“Hmmph.” Smoker didn’t know how she’d let herself be talked into this. She hated bars, on general principle that they were almost invariably too crowded, too loud, too expensive, and too smelling of other people’s smoke. (And in the worst cases, too smelling of other people’s used alcohol.) “This place got a name?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what it’s going to be tonight. It changes depending on the situation.”
“…what.”
Smoker squinted and blinked a few times. The letters on the sign refused to change. She read it aloud, not quite believing the words that were coming out of her mouth. “’Who Gives a Shit what we call ourselves. If you can find us, you were obviously meant to be here!’? What in tarnation…?”
Hunter laughed, sounding a little higher pitched than normal, and slung her arm around her tall friends shoulders. “Awwww, look at that! They knew you were coming, and named the place especially for you!”
“…I refuse to dignify that with a comment.” She sighed deeply, and reached for a fresh cigarette. As she lit it (her lighter taking an unusually long time to flare up, she noticed, and made a note to check the fuel level), she took looked over the exterior of the place. It did little to inspire confidence; the oddly worn looking sign aside, it was basically just a shabby brick wall with a single metal door. A wire enforced window was in the door, but it was too smudged to see through properly. The only other decorations were a shabby movie poster, and a smaller more official looking sign with plain black lettering. Only instead of just saying “no loitering” or “no smoking”, it had a list of…well, more oddness.
“No issues, No linearity, No canon, No Heroics, No Villainy, No Sues, No Stus, No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem.”
Under that, someone had scrawled in a much untidier hand “But for the love of God, wear pants. We’re talking to you, Horse-boy.”
“Do we really have to go in?” said Smoker.
“What do you think?” said Hunter with a wicked grin.
“I’m thinking that you are going to owe me for this.”
“Oh, well…chances are you won’t completely remember this once we get back into context.” Said Hunter, pulling her through the door before she had a chance to question the odd remark. “I mean, I’m only just beginning to really remember the details of my last visit, now that we’re here.”
“What in the hell are you…” Smoker paused, freezing up. A sudden, impossible realization had hit her, but somehow she knew…on some level, she just knew…that it was completely true, and that she had somehow always known it. “…we’re…we’re not real are we? The two of us?”
Hunter was nodding, smiling a smile that could only be described as nervous now. “Nope Haha! We’re characters from a story. Well, if you want to be all technical about it, we’re fan-characters from a video game. We’re out of the context of our own story here…this place exists between realities, isn’t that cool, we can visit all sorts of cool places from here… so we’re allowed to notice that now. But only when we’re here. Kinda blew my mind when I first realized it, too.”
“Video game…computer game. About zombies. And our names are just placeholders until the author…we have a gorram author?...comes up with real names for us…we’re just named for the type of zombies we turn into…”
Hunter was rubbing the back of her head now, and looking a little bit distressed. “Yep. Genderswap characters of zombies, wild isn’t it? I mean, it sounds like something Jockey would come up with…oh wait, have we met her yet in this part of the timeline? I know we meet her at some point, though…I think. You’ll probably remember her soon enough. Tiny braided blonde, always talks about dead people like they are alive in a closet somewhere? That ring any bells with you?”
“I turn into a zombie because…because of yo…”
“Oh, look, they have a DDR machine now! I’m just going to check it out, why don’t you go get yourself a drink you look like you need a drink ok good see you in a few.” The smaller woman ran off, leaving the tall brunette staggering with her newly discovered existential crisis.
…………………………………………..
If Smoker had been in any condition to think clearly, she might have been very angry right then. At the moment, though, all she wanted was for her head to stop whirling. As she walked unsteadily to the bar, it slowly dawned on her that: 1) This place was much bigger on the inside than the outside, much bigger than her mind was letting her grasp at the moment, 2) the interior was far cleaner and more modern looking not just in comparison to the exterior, but in comparison to any bar she’d walked into, ever and 3) the patrons all looked like they had wandered in out of various novels, comic books, games, what have you…because, well, they most likely had.
“I’m losing my mind.” She muttered, as an anthropomorphic fox wit long blue hair and an over sized light purple t-shirt wandered past, arm in arm with a batty looking grey haired women in a vaguely nun-like outfit. “Or this is a prank. Yeah. Just gotta keep telling myself that.”
She scanned up and down the line of the long polished bar. There was only one empty seat left, at the very end. Sitting next to it was a person, chair swiveled to face the room, holding a very large book somehow balanced on her/his lap; the only thing she could see over the top of the tome was a mop of curly reddish hair. ‘Ok…hardly the weirdest thing in here.’
She stood and glared at the empty seat for several seconds before finally stepping forward. “’Scuse me, but JEEZUM CROW!” His face, his FREAKING FACE.
She felt her cheeks grow hot, and forced herself to look up into his eyes instead. He’d transferred the hand-roll to his left hand while she was staring, and was now blowing out smoke in a long stream, a questioning look in his eyes. “Yes?”
“You…” you have a huge, no I can’t say that, that’s rude “You’re a boy!” smooth, Smoker. She thought, doing a mental face-palm.
The red head, for his part, looked down at himself, taking another drag on hi cig as he did so. “I was when I checked this morning, and that seems to still be the case now. Well spotted!”
“You just…I could quite tell when you had the book up. All I could see was the lower parts of your legs and your hair.” She said, lamely, he face burning.
“Mmm…I’ve been told I have rather feminine hair, I’ll grant you.” He responded, giving it a tug. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?” He said it in such a matter of fact manner that she half wondered if that really was a question he got frequently.
“Yes, I mean NO, I…just wanted to know if anyone is sitting in the chair next to you.”
He glanced over at the other bar stool. “At the moment? No.”
Something about the way he said that made her pause. “…so, WAS there someone sitting there?”
“That there was.” He snubbed the last of his cig out, and pulled out a fresh paper scrap.
“Someone who is going to come back here?”
A handful of some kind of shredded tobacco…she assumed it was tobacco, it was a little hard to be certain… was fished from a small satchel, and placed in the paper scrap. “There is a good chance that he will return, yes. Don’t know when.” The fresh cigarette was swiftly rolled.
“A ‘he’ who will be upset if someone take his place?”
Cigarette went between lips. “Presumably that someone would be you?” He glanced her up and down, and raised one cupped hand up to the end of his cig. When he lowered it, it was glowing. She couldn’t help but stare. She didn’t think she’d seen him pull out a lighter…she was so busy staring that she actually missed the next thing he said, and had to ask him to repeat it.
“I said,” he snapped, with a faint look of annoyance on his face, “I can say with absolute certainty that he would be more upset if you didn’t sit there.” *
It was an odd statement, but at this point her head was pounding so badly that decided that was as close to a clear go ahead as she was going to get from this strange person. Muttering a quiet thanks, she pulled herself up onto the stool with a small sigh of relief. The odd little red-head had gone back to reading, to her more private relief. With the book blocking his face, it was easier to pretend that she hadn’t seen the giant burn scar.
*Not actually what he said the first time.
For those of you who are actually curious, what he really said was “Oh, he would be…maybe a little too happy if you did sit there. So, if you fancy being hit on by an oversexed stallion man, than help yourself; if not, you’d probably find one of the tables over there a touch more comfortable. Fair warning.”
……………………………………………………..
Hunter moved through the crowd skillfully, inwardly cringing at how cowardly she was being. She hadn’t wanted to leave Smoker by herself like that, she really hadn’t, but the look on her face just then…well, it hadn’t inspired a good deal of confidence. I hope she still wants anything to do with me after this. She thought morosely.
It was one of the more infuriating things about their (hopefully, not former) friendship with the older woman. Hunter could get in any number of fights with any of her other friends, and those would always just end with one or both parties laughing it off or hitting each other…or a combination of the two…and afterwards IT WOULD ALL BE OVER. But with Smoker…it was always all about feelings and shit. And it was always so damn complicated. And this one was exceptionally tricky. It wasn’t as if Hallmark made a “Sorry for accidentally turning you into a boil covered tongue zombie” card. How did you even begin to approach that topic?
Hunter absentmindedly watched the dancing pair on the machine; a nearly identical pair of men, except one was brunette, and the other was blonde. Oh, and one was wearing combat fatigue while the other was shirtless. The song came to an end, and the pair immediately fell to arguing about the outcome. Apparently the brunette’s score was just a little bit higher…
“You ever play that game?” Came a oddly accented, drawling voice behind her.
“Yeah. I play it with my buddies back home. Not nearly as much fun as parkouring, of course, but holy jesus Christ you are huge.”
The giant man laughed loudly, pushing his forelock back from his head as he did, and flicking his horse-like ear. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Sorry if I inadvertently loom.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it. You can’t help your height.”
“Either way…”he shrugged. “Anyway, you were just telling me that you were experienced with this game…would you say that you were any good?”
She drew herself up to her full height. “I’d say I was pretty frigging awesome, yeah.” As far as Hunter was concerned, modesty was something that happened to other people. “Why, you looking for a challenge?”
“Not me, no. But you see that cat-boy over there?” She looked where the giant horse-looking guy was pointing and narrowed her eyes. “He’s been talking shit all night about how nobody can beat him, and thus far, no one has been able to rise to the challenge. So I told him that I could pull any random person out of this crowd, and they could make him eat his words.”
“And then you found me?”
“You look like a likely one, yeah.”
“Heh, weirdo…well, assuming I take on the challenge, what’s in it for me?”
“Well, I’ve got money riding on this outcome. So, assuming you win…25% of the takings?”
“25% of what?”
He told her. She whistled. “Not bad. And if I lose?”
“Then nothing. It’s my bet, so it’s my penalty.”
“Hmmm…” She sized him up. It was an incredibly odd request to ask a stranger to be sure, but something about him felt…honest. Besides, if she won, and he went through with his end of the bargain…well, it probably wouldn’t hurt her chances with Smoker if she could buy her an apology gift.
“Ok, then…so how do I go about issuing challenges around here?”
He laughed loudly. “Sign up sheet’s over there. The name of the guy you are challenging is Kaz. Best of luck.”
She smiled as she went over to the board of names. Weird ass challenges or not, Hunter always felt better after a good workout. Her problems never seemed as severe then.
Maybe by the time she was finished kicking the cat-boy’s ass, she would have figured out what exactly she wanted to say to Smoker.
……………………………………………………
Smoker stared at the tall, blended drink that one of the bartenders, a pretty little blonde with a curiously stony expression, had slammed down in front of her. She hadn’t ordered it.
“I’m sorry, miss, I…”
“It’s on the house. Drink it, you’ll thank me.”
“Ok…but…what IS it?”
“It’s a nice tall glass of ‘shut up and drink it, it’s good for you.’ It’ll help with the transition pains.”
Smoker frowned at the pushy blonde. “I’m sorry. I’m really not in the habit of drinking things when I don’t know what’s in them.”
“Ma’am, I assure you, if I was going to slip you something strange, I would be a good deal more discreet about it than this.”
Somehow, Smoker was not reassured. She pushed the offered drink away. “No thank you.”
The bartender pushed it back. “You’ll thank me. Or at least be quietly grateful.” There was a slight edge to the last statement.
Smoker was beginning to feel incredibly irritated. She was confused about her place in the universe, trying to cope with some unpleasant revelations, her head hurts, and her lighter wasn’t lighting properly. She really did not need this shit! “I said no thank you. Please take the hint.”
The bartender looked like she was about to start arguing with her when a second bartender…a skinny brunette guy with numerous piercings and a small smile…walked up. “There a problem here?” His voice was soft, but she oddly enough, she had no trouble hearing him.
“Only that this one…” Smoker snapped, nodding towards the blonde, who only looked back impassively, “is trying to foist mystery smoothies off on unwilling people. Beyond that, I’m peachy.” It came out as more of a growl than she’d intended it too, but she was somewhat beyond caring.
“Oh dear. This is your first time here, isn’t it?” Said the brunette, a sympathetic look in his grey eyes. “I’m sorry…first time is almost always rough. I promise you it gets better.”
“This one would suck considerably less if she just drank the smoothie.” Said the blonde, face still expressionless. “You know full well I wouldn’t try to poison her.”
“Yet.” Muttered Smoker.
The brunette just smiled. “How about if we made a fresh one in front of you? That way you can see exactly what goes into it. Would that help?”
“Maybe…”
“Alison, would that work for you?”
The blonde sighed. “Fine. I just hate wasting the other one…”
The red head, not looking up from his book, piped up. “I’ll take it.” Smoker jumped; as quiet as her bar-mate was, she’d half forgotten he was there.
“Problem solved!” said the brunette, shoving the untouched drink over towards the smaller man. “I’ll leave you two to it. By the way, my name is Lance. If you need anything…ANYTHING at all…just give a yell.” He winked at her.
“What did I tell you about flirting with the patrons?” deadpanned Alison.
“That I would be punished severely for it?” He didn’t look at all disturbed by the prospect. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“We’ll discuss this later.”
“I look forward to it!” He laughed, and walked off.
“So where were we?” said Alison to Smoker, as if nothing had happened.
“Ummm…the drink?”
“Ah, yes…pay attention, I’m only going to do this once.”
(To be continued!)
Minor Edit: By virtue of me sitting here and screaming at my computer while hitting the live journal edit with big rocks, I finally managed to get the formatting to look right. Something that only I care about, I'm sure, but there you go.
Also, I corrected some typos, and added a footnote of sorts to the conversation between Smoker and Scar Faced Bar Dude. (Yes, he has a name. It will more than likely be revealed later, although if you are curious, you can more than likely find out what it is by digging through earlier entries in this journal.)
(No, I don't actually expect any of you to care enough to actually do that. XD)