Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby Rance » Mon Feb 16, 2015 2:53 pm

An errant success -- the probabilities leaning in her favor -- had led to this: the seamstress, with her heels wedged into the age-grayed floorboards, holding Phor against the bare wall by her twisted collar. Gloria's knuckles bulged out through the gnarled fabric, her wrapped fist just underneath the horned girl's throat. Her other arm was back, angled at the elbow, the stump cocked and ready to bludgeon if it must.

But it didn't. Not yet. The memory of her fingers -- phantom appendages that her nerves had stubbornly refused to surrender to the truth of her crippling -- wrapped themselves into a fist. This close, Gloria reeked of stale sweat. Her breath was an acrid force. Her gray eyes flicked left, right, trying to take in every angle of Phor's face.

A droplet of sweat as black as tar dangled like an opal from the tip of the seamstress' nose.

"Ailova and I are -- are both women who appreciate truth over bull's shit, and I'd rather know what you honestly think when I look at you. But be wary," the young woman hissed, lowering her voice until it was a rapid, excitable tangle of sounds rattling out from her throat, "because the advantage to being crazy is that I can smell it when you lie, and -- and I wouldn't hesitate to drive your nose up into your brain for wasting our time with distortions or misdirections.

"Go on. Say what's on your mind, Phor."
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby Antichthon » Mon Feb 16, 2015 5:04 pm

Ailova wasn't going to help her. Phor raised her arms to protect her face, and went into Endurance Mode. Her body went limp. She didn't struggle or plead. It was the behavior of someone very, very used to getting beaten half to death. Someone to whom it had become so natural, that it was an easy thing to cooly detach, and focus on how best to take the hits to avoid the worst of it.

But the punches didn't come. She wasn't thrown to the ground and kicked into unconsciousness. And in many ways, this was more disconcerting. She was used to being beaten, not interrogated. She peeked out between her arms, but refused to put them down so long as the threat of pummeling remained.

Say what was on her mind, Gloria said, and Ailova echoed. Be truthful, or be beaten.

"You don't deserve to be happy." Phor's voice was even, calm and clear. "You deserve to be tortured." Between her arms, there were crinkles around her eyes. She was smiling, and unlike most of her smiles, this one was genuine. "They should tie you down. Chop up your arms and legs into little pieces and feed them to the dogs. Make a toy out of what's left. Let the boys have fun with you." Her smile widened. "No, let the dogs have fun with you. You aren't good enough for boys. You're too ugly."

"And you." Phor turned her attention to Ailova. "You're a coward. You're soft. You know what you should be doing, but you don't, because you're too scared of dying alone. Instead you waste time making friends with people in your way instead of killing them. You know Gloria is crazy. You know she's nothing but trouble. You protect people like Mekarie. You're worried that your partner doesn't have the heart for the job. You don't have the heart for the job. And I could help you with that problem, but you don't let me. You think because you're older than me that you know better."

She returned her attention to Gloria. "I want to see you, and everyone else in this town 'cept Ailova suffer forever. That hones--" Phor had just noticed the bead of sweat on the woman's nose. "Why is your sweat black? Ailova, why is her sweat black?!" It was the oil. It had to be. This changed everything. Phor redoubled her efforts to get away. She was panicked now. "Let me go! Make her let me go!"
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby highawaywoman » Tue Feb 17, 2015 8:45 am

"Feck me mam's goat sideways." The highwaywoman tried hard not to interfere, especially when Phor's arms went up to deflect any blows. She didn't move though, not from that feckin' spot.

"You aren't good enough for boys. You're too ugly." Ailova flinched for Gloria, the tirade that Phor launched at her was undeserving. Even worse were Phor's next words. All directed at her.

"You're a coward. You're soft." Finally, a bit of that calm facade cracked. A twitch of her lips was an inkling that Phor's words were getting stuck in her craw, it was becoming more choking than the thirst.

"Ye ken nothin'. Ye think I'm cowardly? 'Tis braver not to maim and kill heedlessly!" Idiot! Work-roughened hands itched to land a blow to the fresh face of the urchin - to obliterate that snide and condescending tone from her mouth.

But Phor had more to say and the words came spilling like a swarm of stinging hornets that'd had their nest over-turned. Ailova didn't look away, Phor had her entire focus. Especially, when Gloria leaned in close and Phor insisted she wished everyone to hells - save for Ailova.

Odd. The brigand was sure that any concern that Phor held for her was entirely selfish. Before Ailova had her own chance to interject, Phor's final words sliced through her innards - turning her to stone.

"Why is your sweat black? Ailova, why is her sweat black?!"

"Black sweat?!" Ailova stepped away from the door, swinging it open with the hand that had once held it firm. No, not Gloria. Sweet, down-trodden, sensitive Gloria had the Black Oil. She was part of it - more than just a vessel used by forces to beget a Catch spawn. No, this was something else. Possession. Evil. The superstitious Ailova sent a quick prayer to the heavens, before reaching to grab hold of the good arm that held Phor.

"Gloria. Ye 'ave it then? The Black Oil?" Ailova bent hear be-hatted head, trying to spot what Phor had. Black sweat. Och! Ailova jerked up, "Let 'er go. Drop her. I'll see to 'er punishment. I'll set rules fer 'er. If'n she can't feckin' obey - she can go back to the streets from whence she came."
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby Rance » Tue Feb 17, 2015 11:12 am

Phor's invective could have been a spearpoint, but Gloria's skin could have been armor: the young woman didn't falter, didn't break; instead, she continued staring over the hawkish angle of her nose at Phor, the young woman's eyes a desert of emotion. Her only reaction came -- a narrowing of her stare -- when Phor verbally began to chew gashes into Ailova. But poise, in this moment, was essential. Gloria's gripping fist never shifted, her stump never lashed out. Instead, her breath came out in sputtering bursts, the evidence of a girl trying to keep at bay the boiling font of emotion in her breast.

But then--

Phor jerked, shook, struggled; Gloria loosened her fingers and unhanded the girl as Ailova's implored her with a touch.

Gloria. Ye 'ave it then? The Black Oil?

"I'm a Jerno," was the first part of Gloria's retort. She leered at Phor, but spoke -- more judiciously -- toward Ailova. "It's tarsweat. Consider it a curse of birth--" dagger-stare darted toward the horned child, "--meant to protect us from the heat in the Glass Sands. Perhaps she ought to put her eyes on a book before she starts making sweeping assumptions fueled by the tidbits of gossip she's gathered from conversations that aren't hers."

She gripped her skirts, lifted them for walking. Simultaneously, she lofted her severed arm high, a fleshy trophy knotted in a black-stained sleeve.

"And if you, Phor, ever speak ill of Ailova, of Catch, of Cat, or of my child where I can hear you? If you shit one more time on the kindness my friend chooses to show you? I promise you'll feel exactly what it's like to let the dogs have fun with you."

A final glance at Ailova. Understanding--

Then, with a twist of her heel, she was gone.
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby Antichthon » Tue Feb 17, 2015 12:13 pm

Tarsweat. If it was a lie, it came easily. Phor, always one to err on the side of caution, didn't take the chance. She retreated to the far side of the room, and was ready to break the window to escape, if need be. But then Gloria was gone, leaving Phor and Ailova alone.

"You know better than to count her as a friend." There was a tremor in Phor's voice as she spoke to Ailova. " She's evil. Crazy. She'll drag you into it. She's already tried. It'll be the end of you."

Ailova said that she would see to her punishment. "Are you going to hit me?" Phor stole a furtive glance at the window, trying to gauge how much force it would take to shatter the glass. "I won't let you hit me. Not for anything."
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby highawaywoman » Tue Feb 17, 2015 2:41 pm

Ailova hadnae heard of tarsweat. Nor had she ever seen it. After all the rumors of Black Oil? And there was Catch, the one-time consort of Gloria - they'd made a babe. A babe that mysteriously vanished apparently on it's own?

Gloria thankfully dropped Phor, turning to Ailova. The hurt and rage in the younger woman's eyes struck some dark chord within her heart. The girl had survived so much, but look at Phor. Survival sometimes made people, even children - into monsters.

"And if you, Phor, ever speak ill of Ailova, of Catch, of Cat, or of my child where I can hear you? If you shit one more time on the kindness my friend chooses to show you? I promise you'll feel exactly what it's like to let the dogs have fun with you."

Then that look, that passing of understanding between the two. The highwaywoman finally doffed her hat to Gloria, Aye, I ken'.. Then in a flutter of blood and mud spattered skirts - she exited the room. A trembling hand swung it shut behind the stout girl.

"Phor. I dinnae ken wot she bleedin' is, but I do ken that she's been a friend. And, she mayhap have information to be known."

"Ye? Yer dark, Phor. Wot 'appened to ye has twisted ye into somethin' primeval. I dinnae beat children. I've told ye that. But this shite? This?" An arm sweeped about them in vague gesture of all the nastiness that Phor dealt out calmer then a whist dealer. "It will stop. Now. With this here. If'n ye choose not to stop? Yer out. Completely. Out of ever'thin' here - with me."

"As to punishment? I'm gonna drink and think of a prop'r one. Till then? Go out and keep yer nasty tricks to yerself fer the day. Go take Gaewinn out; see how many guards are about the roads. Do something!"
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Re: Tea for the Girl with the Horns

Postby Antichthon » Tue Feb 17, 2015 3:25 pm

Phor wanted to snap. to hiss and spit. No, she wanted more than that. If it weren't for consequences, She would already have done so much more. Had the the power over these people that she had over her dolls, she would have gleefully hacked them all apart. Even Ailova. But Ailova, she would have let die. The brigand had earned that much kindness.

But Phor didn't have power. And she was certainly not immune to consequences. She opened her mouth, and closed it. She never explicitly agreed to Ailova's terms, but she didn't need to. The way her shoulders slumped broadcast that she understood. The girl headed for the door, but paused at the threshold.

"Nothing happened to me." And then, Phor too was gone.
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