Destabilisation [Working Title/KW4 Entry]

[† Emotional Outlet]

Until I figure out a not crappy title for this thing. Here's the start of my entry for this round of KamWri.

"'Gimme another, gimme another, gimme another!' I tell ya, it's the same every day. They come in here treating me like a slave, like my job isn't hard, that the only thing to it is just pouring drinks and they're the only ones with 'real' problems. Well, let me tell ya how many times I had to pour and pour this joker's drink because there were too many bubbles in it and it would clash with his aura." He waved his hands in the air sarcastically, rolling his eyes and sneering.

The tavern was crowded, nigh every seat taken up by various patrons and their companions. A few had taken to dragging in chairs from outside, unwilling to sit outside in the pouring rain, streaking mud across the wooden floor. "I'm tired of people tellin' me they wished their life was easy as mine, 'cause it ain't. It ain't easy and it never was easy. Not even in the beginning."

The woman sitting at the bar listened to his tirade tiredly, rolling her glass between her hands, the liquid swirling inside untouched. She had brought it to her lips to drink earlier, but upon finding lipstick smears from a previous customer, she couldn't bring herself to use it. Too often had she made the mistake of drinking from something less than clean only to find herself sporting mysterious new appendages or unable to count. Enchantments were all well and good, she thought, but they were personal and not something to be inadvertently shared with others who chose not to make use of them. He continued to rant, absently wiping a glass with a filthy rag, a vein bulging from his neck as he worked himself up over the injustices he faced every day.

"Hang on a sec, Don," he said, interrupting himself mid-sentence, putting the glass down. "Hey! You with the frilly cape!" From across the room, a young man in a bright orange cape, pointing a knife at the person sitting across from him, loosened his grip on his weapon and looked up, confused. "Yes, you! Put that shit away! You got problems, you take it outside, jackass!" His eyes bulged. "Oh, you little shit. Don't you even—"

"Let me handle it, Rex." The woman stood up and pushed her barstool in, wiping the condensation from her drink on her pants. "You're causing a scene." She made her way through the room, manoeuvring around people in bulky armour and robes, trying not to trip over the shields and packs littering the area. The storage room was likely once again empty and unused—travellers often refused to relinquish control of their belongings, believing the numerous stories the town was known for being a safe haven for rogues and shysters.

In a few moments she stood at the table of the troublemaker, who had since put the knife down, bitterly gathering up scattered cards and slipping them into his sleeve.

"What seems to be the problem here?"

"Frankly, it's none of your business," responded the caped one as he stood up. "I was just on my way out, no thanks to that loud-mouthed bartender over there. He's bad for business."

The person sitting across from him, an older man in plain clothing, his glass of water perched on the ledge of the shuttered window, shook his head and extended his hand to the woman.

"Evenin', Don. We was playing a game and it seems he doesn't take too kindly to those who can spot a cheater when they see one. His cards are marked. Amateur, if'n you ask me."

"Is this true?" she asked, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder, causing him to sit back down. "Despite what people may say about us, the locals here don't abide by cheaters." When she received no answer, she bent forward, leaning into the man's ear, lowering her voice. "Now, you may think with your flashy cape and little tricks that you've got what it takes to pull a fast one on him, but I'll tell you right now I can see it in your eyes you're hardly a few years away from your mother's teat. Your belligerent silence tells me that much." She straightened up, gesturing towards the door. "If you will, please show yourself out."

And here's the aspects I'm going to try to incorporate into the story. We'll see if I'm successful this time around, haha.

From the SS generator: Spell Destabilization

Characters: The narrow-minded heroine // The aged, obedient cleric who is considered the worst in his/her profession // The tough, whiny bartender

[i haven't decided if I actually want to use the middle one yet!]

Bonus: A Plot relevant Romance Occurs

From Shazi's list of objects: Ancient Plate of Ancientness

Edited September 22, 2012 by Emotional Outlet