Why Not Bilgewater

Zum came home! I spent basically all of yesterday (except for the parts where I went shopping) playing with my friends and poking around with Fraps, which I bought and downloaded. It was a good day.

Have some writings.

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Why Not Bilgewater


She looked around, feeling rather self-conscious in her rather plain black skirt. The short-sleeved top seemed a bit too tight - though, glancing at the other inhabitants of the bar, she knew it was actually quite conservative and loose. Even in such light clothing, it was hot and sticky inside the bar, though that might just be the various unidentifiable stains on the walls, ceiling, and floor. There were patches she'd swear had been replaced because the alcohol had eaten through the floorboards.

Here, surrounded by raucous pirates devoted to having a good time, she wasn't the summoner Nekhs, removed from the conflict yet reveling in it. Instead, she was just Neiomi, a pale, fragile little redhead who got shoved around if she tried to navigate the crowd. She didn't drink because it made her dizzy, and a dizzy mage was generally a bad thing. Despite all that, there was a lot - almost too much - to distract her from her nervousness, but her mind kept coming back to one simple fact: the other, older summoner hadn't arrived and probably wasn't coming. He'd stood her up. She sighed, wishing she'd had the courage to ask Zum out. The Ionian was nice, and even if he said no, he'd probably be nice about it and explain why not, rather than this.

She sighed slightly, leaning on a patch of wall that didn't seem too sticky, and reached up to rub one of her sensitive ears. The music was just barely louder than the pirates, and she could barely hear herself think.

"What's this, then?" The man somehow managed to be even louder than everything else in here, his words slightly slurred. He was tall, wearing a slightly lopsided hat, and very, very drunk. His open jacket also revealed what looked to be a very angry patch of untamed fur that someone had then proceeded to pour alcohol all over. "I don' think th'li'l lass is havin' a good time, d'you?" He looked back at the other pirates, probably members of his crew.

The sword and pistol hanging from his belt did not escape her attention. How had she gained his?

"C'mere, my pretty. Give ol' Gangplank a kiss." He leered down at her, one eye glowing an evil red, and she felt herself shrink back against the wall.

"I- I'drathernotthanks." Her voice was tiny, and she tried to project confidence into it that she didn't feel.

His expression shifted for the worse, and she realized belatedly that a captain was probably not used to being refused, even - maybe especially - by pretty little redheads. She tried to think, but he was far, far too close for comfort. Instead, as he made a humorless grin down at her, showing far too many teeth, she aimed a kick for his shin.

It wasn't really very effective, so she took a second option: she called a tiny, insignificant pinch of magic to her.

The scene shifted. She was suddenly outside, though the air was still heavy and humid. She took a deep breath, resting her forehead against the outer wall of the building. "There's no place like home," she muttered to herself, summoning a slightly larger pinch of magic. Blue light rolled and churned at her feet as she pictured her small apartment, exactly as she'd left it. She just wanted to go home.

The pirate appeared to her left. Flash was such a short-range spell. "Found you, lass!" He laughed, loudly, pointing the gun at her. "Nobody makes a fool of ol' Gangplank, love. Nobody." She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth moving without sound.

There's no place like home.

The bullet whizzed through the place where she'd been only seconds before.