Emerald strolled down the street happily. The day was
improving. She'd been right about the gold necklace. It had sold for a
bundle. She had enough to live off of for a month at least, if she was
careful, and all the holes in her ears now held a gold hoop apeice, that she
could sell if times got tough again. Em sighed. Which they probably would,
especially if her father and husband got a wind of this. She walked into a
bar and sat down, unstrapping her sword and putting it down on the counter in
front of her, then leaning her head on her hands and telling the bartender:
"I'm not picky. As long as it's very strong, and gets here very quick."
He had to take a second look at her to see if she was serious. One look in
her blue-green eyes told him she was very serious.
Damn it all to hell, she groaned. If I don't get drunk quick,
I'm gonna have a full blown flashback. She could feel herself slipping
now.
Her father had arranged the marriage. Thought it would keep her out of
trouble, and other people's wallets and houses. After all, he was a well
respected member of the community, barely short of being a lord, so his
daughter's habits of, as he called it, "static kleptomania," were not exactly
what he wanted. And what he said about her psychotic tendencies was very
little. Just the right amount of money in the right places,
when it was someone who mattered. It comes from inbreeding, thought
Emerald. He's not exactly right in the head either. So in order to
keep her out of trouble, her father married her to a very powerful mage. He'd
doped her out of her mind first, of course, and rushed a rigged wedding. When
she woke up, she would have killed them both if it hadn't been for one thing:
Her husband was sadistic, with strange sexual habits, often having to do with
inflicted injuries. She couldn't get loose for almost a week. By the time she
did, Emerald had decided that reputation ruining would be better, and for
now, escape would be enough.
Emerald was shocked to awakeness as the bartender put the glass down. She
looked at it doubtfully. It looked like a white wine of some sort. Em glared
up at him.
"I assume there is a reason for this?"
"It's what you wanted," he said, and walked away to tend someone at the other
end of the bar. She picked up the glass, which in her opinion was too small,
and examined it doubtfully. A skurl of a memory edged in her head, and she
tossed back the entire glass. Her mind reeled. "Whoa," she said. That glass
alone would stave off any memories. Maybe she should drink something else
now. "Oooh...." The strawbery blonde set her head down on top of her folded
arms. A moment later, a soft snore came from inside her.
"Who1s that?" the dark haired man asked.
"Don't know," the bartender replied. "She came in, asked for the strongest
stuff I had, so I gave it to her. I'm surprised she didn't fall over as soon
as it hit her mouth."
"Huhhhh," the man said, eyeing the plump pouch that hung on the young elf's
belt. The thief slowly crept down the bar, and after a few moments of sitting
next to her, and verifying that she was still asleep, he reached for her
pouch. And found his hand crushed in a steady grip. He looked up and saw a
pair of slighty blood shot, clear blue-green eyes.
"I 'sume," the elf said, her ears at steady attention, "you've got a good
reason fur having yur hand on my pouch." Her voice was slurred slighty, and
considering how much everclear she'd just knocked back about ten minutes
beforehand, it was a wonder she could talk coherently at all. "No? leggo."
She twisted his hand backward, away from her pouch. He dragged her forward
and off balance.
Oh shit! Emerald thought as she tumbled forward, meeting the floor
face first. I should know better than to pick a fight when I1m
drunk. She crawled back to her feet.
"Wh' don'tcha just leave me alone?" she inquired, then barely dodged a fist
aimed for her face. "HEY!" She drew one booted foot up and kicked him in the
stomach. He coughed, and made a small noise ofair being let out suddenly.
Crow, Emerald thought. That should have broke something inside.
I'm drunker than I thought. She looked up at the much taller man, as he
grinned and cracked his knuckles. Then she got her eye blacked, her pouch
torn off her belt, and was sent tumbling.
The landing was strangely soft, seeing as she'd been headed for a table.
Emerald looked up at the elf whose lap she'd landed in. "'Scuze me," she
muttered, standing up. "Not my fault." Her eyes narrowed, and she stalked
across the room, as the dark haired man started to leave. She reached up and
put a hand on his sholder. "where do ya think you're goin?" He turned around
and gave her a disbelieving look. She grabbed the front of his tunic, hauled
down, and punched him the face four times in rapid succession. Then someone
grabbed her arm before she could punch him again. Glancing over her sholder,
she
saw another man, who at least to her, screamed thief!. She let go of
the first thief's shirt, and reached backwards, pulling the other one forward
by his hair. The she twisted, pivoted on her toes, and sent her second
opponent flying across the room. Adrenalin filled her bloodstream,
eradicating the last bits of drunkenness. She turned and kicked her attacker
in the ribs, twice, and was gratified to hear
snapping bones. Then Em reclaimed her sword from where she'd lain it on the
bar when she'd sat down. As was frequently the case, when a small scuffle
broke out, it erupted into pandemoniom. The bar filled with flying blows. The
elvin girl, haveing taken her pouch back from the first thief, retreated to a
corner table top to think over rejoining the fray for the hell of it. She
pulled her haversack around and dropped her broken purse into it, then after
a moment, noticed someone sitting at the table she was kneeling on.
"Oh, hello," she said plesantly. She looked back out into the fight. Then she
looked back. "Hey, I know you," she smiled. "I landed in your lap." She
noticed he was watching the fight with roughly the same
expression she had. He then looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. Emerald
jumped off the table and took the seat across from him. "My name is Emerald
Balme. Sorry about landing on you." The elf raised
his eyebrows, and stared at her extended hand. Then he took the cigarrete out
of his mouth and shook it.
"Lusiphur Malaché."
She smiled pleasantly, and looked out over the fight. "Pleased to meet you."
"Yeah, charmed," Lusiphur muttered. Who the fuck was this chick? He knew he'd
never met her or seen her before. And she was being pleasant and cheerful,
even though the guy she'd punched hadn't gotten up yet and was breathing
funny. If she wasn't so cheerful, he thought he might like her a lot. Then he
took a second look at her, and marveled at the lack of skin showing. Most
chicks wore bare minimum, especially the women he knew, and this girl was
covered practically from head to toe. The only skin that was showing was her
sholders, and two cut out patches on her hips. On her right hand were three
rings, all big and bright looking. On her left hand Emerald was wearing a
punching glove, so it looked like she was
left handed. But her sword was also on her left, so it was hard to tell.
Then his atention was drawn back to her hands. She was pulling things out of
nowhere and putting them on the table, including a charm he'd seen around her
second assailant's neck. "Any thief that bad," she said under her breath,
"deserves what he gets." She turned back to the fight, ignoring the pile of
loose change, amulets, earrings, and three small knives that lay on the
table. She scratched just below her right ear. "Well, life isn't a spectator
sport." She turned and gave Lusiphur a smile. "Nice meeting you, maybe I'll
see you around some time." With that she leapt into the barfight, and
proceeded to bust skulls in a very
professional manner, all the time with a crazy-bright smile on her face.
Hours later, Emerald went back out onto the streets. She was covered in
bruises, and a small slash just above her left cheekbone, and to boot, had
been kicked out of the bar, but had enjoyied herself immensely.
Ah, violence! she thought to herself. Is there anything it won't
cure? She walked merrily down the street, and was suddenly grabbed and
hauled backwards by someone in an alley. She found herself slammed against a
wall and sitting down.
"Crap," she muttered, and looked up. "Look, what do you want?"
"I'm here to discuss your actions earlier this evening," a tall man with dark
brown hair said.
"Do tell," Emerald said drolly, starting to stand up. The man's slightly
shorter and lighter haired assocate pushed her back down.
"That's alright, stay sitting, I don't mind."
Emerald frowned. "No thanks, I've been sitting all night.2"
"No, we know what you've been doing. You killed a man who worked for my
employer."
"Then perhaps he should employ thieves with more brains," she said, raising
one eyebrow and giving that glittering mad-woman smile.
"Well if just so happens, I think I may have found one." He looked at her
pointedly.
"So you think beating me up will get me to work for you?" She laughed. "Get
real."
"No, that won't. But I do know one thing that will, Emily Bålmi."
Crow! thought Em. She looked up and saw a ledge above her. She
looked back at the two men. "I have no idea what you1re talking about," she
said. From her sprawed sitting position, she sprung upward, and grasped the
ledge, kicking both men in the face. As she began to haul herself onto the
ledge, she felt something grab her ankle. The lighter haired man had her leg,
and was pulling. From the looks of things, his nose was broken by her initial
attack. She started kicking again, raining his face with sharp blows from her
steel toed boots. Emerald loosed one hand to reach inside her pants leg, and
pulled out a dagger, weighted for throwing. The dagger found its way into the
man's throat with deadly accuracy. She hauled herself onto the ledge and sped
away, crawling quickly to the roof tops, where she could move faster.
At last she stopped, and panted, trying to regain her breath. Damn.
she thought. Someone knows who I am. She looked out across the city.
The east was beginning to lighten, but only barely. She turned and began
looking for a way down. Suddenly a flash of color caught her eye
and she looked up.
And almost puked.
"Oh God," she said. "If anyone was ever a victim of the fashion plague!"
The purple clad figure turned and looked at her. The figure was male, in what
appeared to be bikini briefs, if not a g-string, with hairy legs and a hat
that was just far to big. All in purple.
"NYAR!!" it screamed and bounded across the roof ledges towards her.
Emerald raised her eye brows.
"I don1t even want to know." She drew her gun and fired as the figure leapt
over an alley, cloak streaming. It hit him, cutting off a battle cry in mid
"Nyar!" The purple clad male figure fell screaming to the alley below.
Emerald went on her way, not even bothering to check, or caring if the
strange little man was still alive. Faintly, from the alley, came the weak
cry of "Nyar...."
Days later...
Emerald was still looking for an "in". Not that she particularly cared if the
stupid dectectives caught an assassin or not, just that she thought it would
be a pretty good way to get a steady job. Her past few days had been less
than boring, becase she had two more run ins with the dark haired man who
knew who she really was. The red-blond was tired of running, and running out
of bars, and money. She collapsed in an alley, resting her head on her hands,
as she realized that there was a very familar feeling overtaking her. She
started to stand up, then slumped back down. Her mind was elsewhere.
"Help!" screamed a little girl. "Let me go!" A lash came from nowhere and
cracked her, hard. "I didn't do it!!"
"Bullshit, you little whore!" came a male voice, and then the lash again. "I
know you did. You took it!"
"I didn't, Daddy!" screamed the girl. "Honest I didn't!"
"LIAR!" Another crack of the whip, and the girl screamed.
A bigger girl sits trembling behind a curtain, eyes wide with fear. "She's
been at it again," the male voice came.
"At what?" a female, slightly matronly voice asked.
"Stealing. This time she almost got caught, and a servant ended up dead."
"Your father was a thief as well, you know..."
"Shut up- he wasn't!" The girl cranes her eyes shut as the elder woman
screams.
A crowd fades in and out of the mists. A ring. A male face, thin, dark haired
and arisoctatic. A bed. The face, smiling cruelly. The ring, now on a girl's
finger. The ring changes into a manacle, chaining her. Then a taloned glove,
raking down her side. And someone grabbed her shoulder harshly....
Lusiphur leapt back, as Emerald whirled, knife out, eyes screwed shut.
"EEEAHHHH!" she screamed. "No more! Death to you!" She crouched down, eyes
still screwed shut, tears streaming out, knife clutched fiercely. "DEATH TO
ALL OF YOU!" Then she gasped and her eyes opened, shining bright and crazy.
"Good morning," she said. Lusiphur gave her a highly skeptical look,
suprised.
"You just tried to kill me," he said, calmly.
"I did?" she asked lightly, sheathing her dagger. "You came upon me in a bad
moment," the short elvin girl said, looking up at his face. "You shouldn't
sneak up on people like that." The dark haired elf thoght of something to
say, but decidd to keep his mouth shut. This chick is out of her
mind, he thought, then remembered the flashing blade an inch from his
face. And very good.
"So," said Emerald. "Want a drink?"
Later.....
"Th' way I see it," Emerald said, hands folded over her mug, "is that you're
in this to cast off the fluffy-bunny elvin image that we've somehow got stuck
with."
"Don't kno' why we have," mutterd Lusiphur, refilling his mug.
"I'm in this 'cause there never was a fluffy bunny image in my life." She
shuddered. "N' I got good at violence at a very young age."
"How young?"
Emerald rubbed her eyes, and tossed back the rest of her mug, then reached
for the pitcher. "Very young."
"I know that one," Lusiphur muttered. He was fairly drunk at this point.
They'd been sitting quietly at the back of the bar, for hours, and he was no
longer sure how much alcohol he had consumed.
"So violence is, you kno', fun!" she continued. "I mean gettin' drunk is jus'
a way to help keep the sanity I got, and I, well, don't really like guys, so
I mean, wha's left but violence?"
"Thas sad," Luse said, yawning. "I guess, you're right, I'm not sure I
understand tho'."
Emerald took another drink, and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Well, ya
kno', I don't either." She heaved a great sigh, and rested her face upright
on her hands, elbows on the table. The wrapped braids on
either side of her face looped up over her hands. She looked like a little
kid. Lusiphur yawned and drained his cup again. He was then fairly dismayed
to discover the pitcher was empty, and drew forth a bottle of whisky. Emerald
raised her eyebrows.
"I mus' be drunk," she said. "Tha' looks good."
"I mus' be too," Lusiphur agreed. "Have some."
Later still.....
"Th' other night," Em said conspiratorially, "I saw this really ugly dweeb in
purple underwear."
Lusiphur groaned. "That creepy little limp-wristed wimp-shit."
Emerald's cloudy eyes brightened, and her ears, which had been slightly
cock-set, went back to
a semblance of their normal place. "You kno' 'im?" she asked.
"Not really." Lusiphur said, waving his hand back and forth in the air. "He
thinks women are evil, and must be destroyed."
"Would 'splain the lavender panties, tho'." Emerald nodded. "Anyhoo, he
started running at me, so I shot 'im."
"Good for you!" Lusiphur nodded back. "Wish I'd gott'n him first."
"Wish I'd bothered to make sure he was dead," sighed the young woman. "I feel
like I've left a job half done." She shrugged. "Still, he must be alive,
'cause that would h've made it into the papers." She looked off into the
distance and gestured about with her hands "Half-Clothed Purple Manic Found
Dead! The Fashion World Rejoices!"
Lusiphur lowered his head into his folded arms and giggled madly. He liked
that thought. Em hiccuped, and attempted to stand.
"I'm gonna be so hung over in th' morning." Lusiphur was still giggling,
picturing a purple coffin, and dancing on the little bugger1's grave. "Heh,
heh, heh." The darkhaired elf suddenly sat up and brushed his hair back
"Wha's going on?"
"You're drunk, Luse-ef-hic!" Emerald giggled and put a hand over her mouth.
"I knew that!" he said, eyes sharp under his unruly bangs. "I thought I heard
something!"
Emerald looked around sneakily. "I dunno, I don't see anythin'."
Lusiphur slowly lowered his head back onto his folded arms. Then Em looked
up.
"Oh. Hello."
The darkhaired man looked down at her in disgust.
"Well then," the man said, "this should make getting your cooperation
easier."
"How do you figure?" Em said, looking at him sideways.
"On your current inebriated state, Emily."
Unsteadly, Emerald reached for the bottle and refilled her glass, draining
it. "If ya don' mind my askin', wha' do ya want me for anyway?"
"Why, to replace those you killed," the dark man said, settling down into
another chair at their table.
"If tha' was wha' you wanted, you wouldn't be callin' me Emily, would you?"
She yawned.
"How do you know?" asked the man. "How better to ensure loyalty from a
master, than to get a little good blackmail?"
Emerald rubbed her eyes. "Here," she said, pushing the mug towards him. "Have
a drink. Let's talk." The dark man took up the cup and drank. Em folded her
hands under her chin. "So you want me to steal for you?"
"Not quite. I want you to kill for me."
"And you feel comfortable discussing this in front of him?" Emerald gestured
at Lusiphur.
"He's drunk. He couldn't find his ass with two hands and a map right now."
As if to prove a point, a loud snore came from behind Lusiphur's arms.
Emerald began to giggle uncontrolably. She pointed at the dark
man.
"Say goodnight!" she giggled, and the man collasped face first on the table.
Lusiphur instatly sat up, looking aware. "What did you do, Em?"
Emerald stood up, stretched leisurely and grabbed Lusiphur's hand, heading
for the door. "My friend has agreed to pay our bill!" she called to the
bartender. "But he can't hold his liquor, you'd better wait till he wakes up
on his own!" The bartender nodded, as Emerald pulled Lusiphur out into the
night.
"Alright, wha' did you do!?!" the dark elf demanded. Em held up her right
hand, and ran one of her fingers over the stone of one of her rings, then
flipped her hand over. The inner part of the band had slid
open, revealing a small compartment.
"A poison ring?" Lusiphur said, eyebrow raising, confused.
"Uh-huh. Finest quality. Good poison too. Isn't poison, 'less taken in
alcohol, and then you fall asleep and don't wake up." She paused and looked
at Luse sideways."You ever see someone who was 'lergic to alcohol?"
"No."
"Well, if they look, it'll look like he was.' She spread her fingers. "When
the barkeep goes to see if he's all right, he'll find the jerk face down in
his own congealing vomit, dead as a lich."
"So you're a thief?" Emerald nodded.
"UH-huh. Klepto-hic-maniac." She grinned. "Good at it too." Rubbed her head.
"Now to bed. Tha' stuff gives you a wicked hangover." She stopped and dashed
over to an alley and puked her guts up. After dry heaving for a few moments,
she looked up to see Lusiphur stadning there looking startled. "And'll make
even elves puke." She wiped her mouth. "I can get you some, if you1re into
that subtle stuff."
Lusiphur smiled. "Nahh. I'm more into the gratuitous violence."
Emerald smiled back. "I like you," she said. "Believe me, that's harder than
it might seem."
She started walking down the street. "Maybe I'll see you some other time,
Lusiphur." She turned around and smiled. "Maybe you could help me find a
better job?"
"Nahhh," Lusiphur said, shrugging, and the two went off in opposite
directions.
Later that night...
Lusiphur opened his eyes to see a very familiar blackness. Aw, crow,
Lusiphur thought.
"Oh to sleep the sleep of the dead drunk," came a voice that was also
distressingly familiar. Lusiphur turned around and saw the little undead
clown that lived in his head.
"I1m seeing way too much of you."
Parintachin grinned. "You think it's a field day for me, Luse? You are one of
the most stubborn, pig headed people, excuse me, elves, I've ever seen."
Lusiphur groaned and turned away.
"Aww come on," laughed the jester-hatted man. "One might almost think you
didn't like me--" He broke off as Lusiphur turned and glared at him.
"Besides, it's just as well you're down here, because about one level up is a
dream you1d rather not be having."
"Huh. Anything would be better than you."
Par smiled. "Oh I don't know. The subconscious sees more than the conscious
knows." He smiled wryly. "Would you really want to see her-" he pointed at a
blankness that resloved itself into Emerald- "in your bed- even if it was a
dream?"
"Better that than you," Lusiphur muttered, lighting a cigarette.
"You sure?" Par asked. "Didn't you wonder why she dresses so funny?" The
image pivoted, now dressed in a more contemporary outfit. Most of her body
was covered in scars. Her face, her shoulders and her hips were the only
thing that escaped the carnage. "And if you think her body is messed up-
whoohoo!" Par grinned. "Geez, she makes people who write fan fiction look
sane."
Lusiphur was, to say the least a little surprised. Then he frowned. "Wait a
second. How do you know all this?"
"You wound me," Par said, looking offended. "Surely by now you'd've learned
to trust me on principle." He grinned. "After all I'm right so frequently."
Lusiphur glared at him. "Then again, look at who I'm dealing with." He shook
his head. "I said that the subconscious sees more than the conscious right?
So, by that token, I know." He shook his head again, as Lusiphur raised his
eyebrows in a skeptical look. "Why do I even bother?"
"Yeah. Why do you?"
Par looked pained. "I see you're bent on being as obstinate as ever." He
faded away to the darkness, which gradually faded out to a graveyard. And
Luse was sitting on a violet toubstone with the inscription "Nyar no more."
To be continued.......
Posion Elves is © Drew Hayes. I'm not violating it, I'm just playing
with it. Any similarly to persons living or dead is purely a symptom of
paranoia or an over inflated ego. Or of course, I could be doing it on
purpose. You'll never know.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four