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In through the out door

Discussion in 'The Hooded Crow Inn [Fiction]' started by Paytience Fawn, Apr 20, 2012.

  1. Her hands flat against the stone floor, she pushed hoisting her body up. Lines criss-crossed her exposed forearms, lacing themselves in angry patterns down her side and across her abdomen. Without a stitch of clothing, let alone armor, every jagged edged rock or splintered branch left her sun kissed skin marred with its intrusion.

    A month ago, the catacombs of Despise were as as easily traversed as the deck of her ship. So when Penny issued the challenge of a naked run, the only hesitation on Pay's part was that the fact it meant not immediately having a weapon in her hand. Still a challenge was a challenge and she, as was custom, met it head on. With Gusto. Now, gazing at a dead end in the north west wall of the dungeon, it occurred to her she shouldn't be so damn quick when saying Yes. Her mouth open slightly she let out a slow exhale. Her hands dropped to grip her knees and her heels pressed against the stone as she tried to get a second wind.

    Left or right?

    Eyes darting between her choices, she weighed her options quickly. Balls of squeaking fur and moving piles of putrid acid weren't far behind.

    "You mean to tell me you can stand toe to toe with a man, but you fall to a rat? " Joe's laughing prod echoed in her head. He and the rest of the party had become separated over 10 minutes ago. She made a vow then and there, if she got out alive, she would be back tomorrow to conquer the rodent infested cave.

    "What can I say, vermin love me!" She saw it then, the flash of dried blood red coloring out of the corner of her eye. If she were going down it would be on her own terms. A loud shriek poured from her, her fist held high as she attacked the rider. A moment or two and the world tipped to the grey scale.
     
  2. Mirrors weren't always friendly, particularly when the object reflected could have passed for something caught on a set of hooves and dragged down a dusty NuJel'm street.

    "Most girls go dancing for a good time you know."

    Staring past her own face, Paytience met a pair of cerulean eyes with depth such that no wishing well could touch them. Her heart stopped and her smile spread. "But then, you've never been most girls, have you Pay?" Her jaw went slack, but remained closed through sheer willpower.

    "Trae." Whether it was a prayer of hope and disbelief or a final statement was anyone's guess. The name was ushered forth quietly and laden with relief. Her legs regained a momentary lapse in strength as she turned her body toward the woman opposite. At 5'7'' Trae Markwood stood almost five inches taller than she did.

    Trae was curved, where Paytience was hardened.

    She was quiet laughter where Paytience was outspoken vehemence.

    Trae filled in the blanks.

    Spreading, the smile broke into laughter. Legs, ripped and scratched and still very naked moved forward sending Paytience right into the taller woman's arms. Welcome silence fell in where only white noise had existed, and the calm was instant. Trae's curled around her, squeezing lightly and filled with warmth.

    "This was not where I expected to find our little thief."
     
  3. She waited until she felt the familiar reflex of tensing and then releasing fingertips before she let go. Reaching down absently she pulled three bandages from her satchel and walked over to the wash basin, dipping them into the water. Lukewarm. It had been sitting for awhile. Her hand wrenched at the cloth twisting it this way and that until most of the moisture had been extracted before she crossed back over to Paytience. She placed one in the palm of Pay's hand and one on the bed. The third she held gingerly in her left hand and guided Paytience to the corner of the furs with the other.

    Gaunt and hollow, dark brown eyes watched Trae as she gingerly dabbed at the still oozing scars. Had it been anyone other than Pay she would have asked if there was Whiskey handy. As it stood, she knew there wouldn't be. Once the last bit had been blotted up, she gathered the soiled bandages and tossed them into the trash barrel. Come nightfall they would burn them.

    In time she would question. But not tonight. Tonight, they would laugh and let the candles burn until the wax overflowed leaving a trail upon the inn floor. They would dance until their bodies ached and the moon considered them misbegotten fools of nostalgia. If it was one thing Trae had learned the hard way, it was that tomorrow would come and with it: the answers you really wish you'd never known.