As much as Indigo seemed incapable of telling a lie, Haylen couldn’t quite believe her when she said that Verdis was no longer a problem. As much as Indigo said that caution kept you alive… As much as Indigo said that it wasn’t paranoia if they were really out to get you… Haylen couldn’t understand the girl’s relaxed attitude after making an enemy of one of the most powerful men in the city, if not the kingdom. True, the archmage had started it, but the homunculus hadn’t ended it nearly as cleanly as she thought she had.
Yet here they were, walking down the street like the other day’s events hadn’t happened. Haylen really hoped that nothing more would happen that night. She personally knew a man who answered only to the king and the emperor himself, but the idea of angering an archmage was still more than enough to make her uneasy.
Yet, again, here they were, walking through the streets like nothing was wrong, towards one of Haylen’s favorite inns. From time to time they even stopped to do a bit of window shopping.
“Let’s hope that drunken leering is the worst thing we have to deal with tonight. Drunken leering I can handle. Magical feuds… not so much!”
The Well By The Hole In The Wall had been around longer than anyone could remember. It did have a well. It was also right next to the city wall. But whatever hole was being referenced was beyond any living person’s memory. The wall didn’t look like it had had any holes put into it.
The Well was a local’s inn. Unlike the one Haylen had originally recommended to Indigo, The Well made most of its business from people traveling within the kingdom. With its name, nobody else was likely to stay there. To people from the kingdom of Orlis, or at least the city of Orlis, The Well was well known. Anyone from outside went somewhere else.
The Well By The Hole In The Wall was distinctly average in all accounts, and that was one of the reasons Haylen liked it so much. The rooms were clean, but small. The beer was cheap, but not bad. The food was spicy, but the cooks understood that not all Orlisians wanted to sweat through every bite of their meal. Bar fight’s happened, but weren’t common. The waitresses were pretty, but didn’t accept a slap on the ass as a friendly way of saying hello.
It was one of the few places Haylen could go for a drink without feeling like an outsider in her own city. While she was far from a regular, the staff had seen her often enough that they didn’t bother to ask “what brought a half-elf to these parts.” At The Well, she was just another customer, and that was the way she liked it. Whether or not Indigo and her horns, sword, and strange hat would gain unnecessary attention was another question entirely.
When the two of them entered the establishment, a waitress immediately guided them to a table sitting against the large common room’s wall. The table itself was sizable enough to fit six or eight people, and was bigger than the two of them needed, but they probably weren't expected to stay for long. Despite the window shopping they had done along the way, they were still early, and had beaten the evening rush by an hour or more.
Indigo let Haylen handle the orders. It was amusing that the homunculus would eat pretty much anything placed in front of her. The “canned food” of the necropolis wasn’t bad. And there was so much variety to it! Indigo’s love of anything edible was hard to miss, which only made it harder for Haylen to understand how she could so easily ignore the Ancestor’s cuisine.
While they waited for their meal, Indigo was staring at everything. Her large round eyes were always flitting about warily, but this time she actually seemed to be inspecting what was around them rather than looking for anything that might jump out at them. Haylen had gotten used to the girl’s general lack of eye contact during conversations. Most of the time, Indigo didn’t even seem aware that she did it.
The half-elf had been to this inn fairly often, but felt herself looking at it in a new light. This was probably the first time Indigo had spent any time in a common room, and it made Haylen appreciate her surroundings in a different manner.
“I wonder what it is that she sees and I don’t. What part of this place stands out to her? She’s probably read about them in her books, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she looted one or two back in Peninsula, but those aren’t exactly comparable to eating and drinking in a real one.”
The floor was brick, and covered in a thin layer of fresh sawdust. It made cleaning up spills easier, and if changed often, left a nice woody scent to the room.
The air was a bit smoky, but not enough to clog the lungs. A pair of hookahs sat by the back wall, one already in use, and Haylen predicted that she would be sitting over there as well before long.
Tables and chairs filled the room. They were thick, chunky, and unlikely to be broken if anyone got too rowdy.
A bard, probably a local going by his choice of songs, was playing a lute on a short platform in one corner. Haylen wasn’t very knowledgeable about music, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Indigo gave her opinion on it before the night was over.
Most of the patrons were eating, drinking, and talking jovially. The majority of them were commoners, but in the side booths Haylen saw a few that looked like wealthy merchants or lower nobles.
Whatever specifics Indigo seemed so interested in, they were beyond Haylen’s notice. Most likely they were looking at the same things in different ways.
When their drinks arrived, they each took a sip. Like with food, Indigo wasn’t that picky about alcohol. Or so Haylen had thought.
“Not bad,” Indigo began before taking a larger gulp. “I’m not a fan of the taste, but the aftertaste makes up for it. It’s nice and bitter too. Could use a bit more head though.”
As she spoke, she was inspecting the tankard of dark beer carefully, taking much more interest in it than was necessary.
“I should have known that you would care too much about your drink.”
Indigo practically cackled at that.
“Yah. I’m a beer snob. I actually prefer beer over wine or liquor, but it was hard to find any in Peninsula that hadn’t gone flat, so I just kind of stopped looking for it.”
“Well at least you don’t need it to talk normally anymore. Although your accent could use a bit of work.”
Indigo nodded, but then her head started leaning from side to side as she gave it further consideration.
“Hmm. I still have to think about what I say, but it’s been getting easier. I think my accent is fine though. Once we start on the pilgrimage, I’d bet that someone says that you’re the one that sounds strange. There’s nothing wrong with having an accent.”
“Me? I don’t have an accent. I sound perfectly normal. My Common Tongue is as common as it gets!”
Their food arrived shortly after. Normally, Haylen would order the fried squid, but she wanted Indigo to try some real Orlisian food. Particularly something that couldn’t have come from a street vendor. Cheesy meatballs it was. A small wad of cheese coated in allspice, paprika, and ground basil, and wrapped in minced lamb or goat meat before being baked.
Haylen took in the atmosphere as she ate, enjoying the friendly air of comradery that surrounded them. Indigo took in the food as she ate, and ordered a plate of fish as her second helping. The girl’s beer mug was also soon emptied and replaced, this time with a lighter wheat ale. Haylen had a feeling that Indigo would be returning to The Well until she had sampled their entire menu.
When the second plate had been shoved into the bottomless pit of a stomach, Indigo leaned back, patted her belly, and announced that she was going to need “the munchies” to help her make room for more. Haylen had never heard that phrase before, but followed the girls gaze over towards the tall water pipes and understood immediately what it meant.
The group of people currently smoking were surprised at the pair’s approach, but were happy to make room when they saw the chunk of hemp resin in Indigo’s hand. In any bar, tavern, or inn, it was an unwritten rule that, “people who don’t share don’t smoke.” Indigo had enough to share with everyone in the building, and was therefore more than welcome.
They talked. They joked. They were good people. The group of four seemed to know each other, and whenever they weren’t blowing smoke rings, they were making friendly banter about the latest gossip and goings-on of the city. The explosion at the mages guild, Haylen was happy to find, was old news. The real news was the new well being dug on Carpeter Street, the lucky double egg one of them had found while cooking breakfast that morning, and the absolute scandal of someone setting a cat loose during a rat race.
One of the group, the sole woman, had a younger sister in the militia. She wasn’t one of Haylen’s but it was enough for the woman to know who she was.
“You’re her hero, you know? And I can see why. We need more women in the paladins. Best of luck to you on your pilgrimage.”
The word “paladin” set off a round of hearty slaps on the backs, followed by the entire room making a toast to her honor. The people on the farther side probably didn’t know what they were cheering for, but any good excuse to raise a glass was a good excuse to raise a glass.
Haylen was used to standing out. Her ears. Her hair. The fact that she was a woman who frequently walked around in armor. She wasn’t someone who could easily keep a low profile. What she wasn’t used to was people noticing her for what she had done, rather than what she was. It felt… nice, and she had to hold back the first happy tear, or else she might not be able to stop the rest. Corlo had respected her. Father Gregor had respected her. But this was one of the few times that a group of strangers had respected her.
Haylen had been surrounded by paladins for years now. They were normal to her. She had forgotten the awe she had felt as a child whenever she looked at them. She saw that same awe in the eyes of the people around her now, and remembered what it was like. Being a paladin was more than just a job. It was a symbol, and she wouldn’t forget that again.
Once the burst of celebration had died down, Haylen took a few quick puffs from the pipe to distract herself. She didn’t want to start feeling too proud. She noticed that the bard, rather than feeling slighted by the lack of attention upon himself, had instead switched over to a more adventurous melody to help fit the mood. He was good, and Haylen decided to make sure she left him a nice tip.
The smoke inspired conversation picked up again, and she saw that many of the people around her were attempting, and failing, to not stare at Indigo. It was understandable. Indigo was quite possibly unique. A race made up of a single person. Still, nobody wanted to ask her what she was. It wasn’t exactly rude, but no Imperial would want to admit that they were ignorant of the races and cultures that were their neighbors.
One man though, whose eyes were particularly red from the smoke, decided to say something incredibly stupid.
“A civilized trog. And here I thought I’d seen everything.”
Haylen wanted to slap him. Indigo, bless her, didn’t even seem aware that she was the one being spoken about until a wave of silence swept across the common room and she noticed how many people suddenly not trying to hide the fact that they were looking her way.
“What’s a tr-” Indig began to ask, but Haylen clamped a hand over her mouth before the girl could finish.
“She is not a trog,” Haylen growled at the man, “and you will apologize for even insinuating that she is.”
The man, his mind slowed by alcohol and too much smoke, looked confused for that extra second that it took him to finally realize what he had said. Maybe his inebriation helped, but he ignored the hand still firmly over Indigo’s mouth, stood, and bowed deeply.
“I apologize for my words. I spoke wrongly, and shamefully. I… admit the guilt of my ignorance. It will not happen again. Please forgive me.”
Haylen removed her hand from Indigo’s face, and hoped that she wouldn’t further complicate the situation.
“Um… No hard feelings? I’m a homunculus, by the way.”
Indigo hesitantly reached out for a friendly shake, but instead the man gently grasped her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
“Thank you. And I’m very sorry for my rudeness.”
Around the room, several people nodded, their expressions serious. Anyone who called someone a trog and didn’t apologize deserved whatever was coming to them or worse. Kissing her hand was probably a bit much, but at least it showed his sincerity. Most likely, the man had narrowly avoided making the common room’s entire population into his enemy.
“Everyone,” Haylen said before Indigo could continue, “thank you for your company, but I think it’s time my friend and I return to our table. I wish you all a good night.”
Indigo was clearly confused, but didn’t resist being pulled her back over to their seats. A complete lack of understanding was written large across her face, but she waited for Haylen to down her drink and order another before asking the obvious question.
“What just happened?”
Haylen felt a guilty twinge. After all, she had, for a few seconds, also wondered whether or not Indigo may have been a trog back when they had first met. She sometimes had trouble guessing what things the homunculus would and wouldn’t know about the world. This though, was something that she shouldn’t have had to guess about. Indigo had the knowledge of the Ancestor’s, but no Ancestor had had to deal with trogs.
“He thought you were a trog. You wouldn’t know about them. They’re…”
How does one even begin to explain trogs in a barroom conversation? Where to even begin? The drink and smoke were catching up to her as well, further complicating it all.
“Trogs are… something from the Lost Era. They are the corrupted people of the miasma. Normally, races can’t interbreed beyond a single generation. Halfs, like myself, are almost always sterile. Trogs are what happened when the mist decided to ignore that fact. They’re a mixed race made of all races. In a perverse way, they’re everything the empire would like us to be, while also being the exact opposite.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Indigo still looked confused, and that was understandable. Most knowledge of the trogs came from legend, or from the few witnesses lucky enough to survive a raid. Trogs were almost as much a mystery as the miasma itself.
“The empire,” Haylen continued, “divides the races as being civilized or uncivilized. Hobs, for example, are civilized. They work alongside other races, and help to make society better. Ogres, are uncivilized. They’re a bunch of brutes who see nothing wrong with eating anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. Even among the uncivilized races though, individuals still have the potential to be civilized, and that’s the important part. There are trolls in the imperial army. There are goblin hunters who sell their game to nearby villages. Civilized or uncivilized is the standard for the race, but individuals can be either.”
Indigo was listening carefully, and Haylen took a sip of beer to wet her throat before she went on.
“Trogs are the exception. They’re not just uncivilized. They are anticivilized. All of them are. Of all the mortal races, they are the only one that is entirely, unquestionably, and inherently evil. They’re more like monsters than they are like people. When they raid a village, they don’t loot or take prisoners. They just kill and destroy until there’s nothing left but ash and rubble and blood.”
“So why did he think I was a trog? Do I look like one?”
Haylen hesitated while she tried to find the most delicate way to say what needed to be said.
“A… little bit. You look very mixed yourself, but nobody would be able to guess what you’re a mix of. And trogs are known to have, um… mutations. Like, uh, your horns.”
Indigo was aghast, and grabbed at her horns protectively. Her already large eyes went wide.
“But… Wha… My…”
This is what Haylen was afraid of. Indigo loved her horns, and took pride in them the same way that a man might take pride in a finely groomed beard. Comparing them to anything that a trog might have was… not kind.
“Why hasn’t anyone told me this before?! Is… Is that why everyone is staring at me?”
“Well,” Haylen began, looking for a way to dig herself out of the hole she had found herself in. “Maybe at first. It’s probably something that crosses their mind. But,” she added quickly, “only for that first second it takes them to realize that you aren’t trying to kill them and eat their children.”
“I don’t eat babies, and that means I’m not a trog?!”
Indigo was thoroughly unhappy with the comparison, and seemed rightfully angry about it. Hayen winced. She liked to think that she had decent social skills, but it was getting more and more obvious that her conversational abilities were lacking.
“Hopefully I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I’m just unlucky enough to be the one that has to tell her the difficult things. Next time she goes out, I’m making Kearse take her.”
“Well I’m sorry, but nobody’s seen a homunculus before. Most people haven’t even heard of them. Don’t get mad at me because you’re too stubborn to change how you look.”
Indigo groaned and, still clutching her horns, thumped her head down on the table.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “You’re right. It’s just a lot to think about, and I’ve got too much of a buzz to actually think about it right now. Do you think it’ll cause trouble on the pilgrimage?”
Haylen relaxed a bit, glad that things were now going in a better direction.
“I don’t. You’ve been in Orlis for a week now, and if it’s taken this long for even this much to happen, I doubt it will be a problem. It’s just something that you should be aware of, and I’m sorry for not mentioning it sooner.”
A few drinks later, and they had both forgotten the previous awkwardness, and were back to discussing more pressing matters.
“Any word from Kearse?”
“I saw him yesterday. He said he found a wagon for cheap. Something about a flaw in the orichalcum, so it couldn’t hold as much magic. I’m not sure about the details. If he’s bringing up magic at all though, it’s still probably a better wagon than we really need.”
“And to pull it?”
“He’s still looking, but probably mules. Horses are faster, but the way we’ll be using them, it wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Do you think Mayra will be able to come?”
“I think it’s likely, but nothing’s certain yet. Her parents let her become a mage, so they probably wouldn’t make her stick to noble tradition too strongly. We’ll probably find out in another day or two. Luckily for us, her family doesn’t live too far away or we’d have to wait till the last minute. If she comes, we’ll want to stop by her estate so she can see her family again before we leave. It’s in the direction we’re going though, so it won’t be very far out of the way.”
“Is there anything I should be preparing? I feel a bit like I’m just leaving all of it to you guys.”
“No,” Haylen said with a shake of her head. “You already have most of our travel supplies covered. And you’re paying for the wagon. We should be fine, and if it turns out that we need anything else, we can pick it up along the way. If the rest of you weren’t coming, I’d be doing all of this on my own anyway.”
The night, now officially into the evening, was going well. It had had its low moments, and it wasn’t at the same level of wildness that Haylen’s original plans had called for, but fun enough that the little details didn’t matter. And the night was young.
Indigo did, as Haylen had expected, give her opinion on the bard. He was skilled, she said, but despite throwing a gold coin at him the young man ignored her request to take his shirt off, and she amended her opinion to that of, “a skilled player, but a lousy entertainer.”
Haylen coughed into her mug, and took a second sip to hide her sudden blush. She ended up throwing a coin of her own, only silver, and yet the handsome bard still refused to show any skin. Yes, the night was indeed still young.
“I thought you preferred women,” Haylen commented.
“I do,” Indigo replied casually while glaring at the bard’s lack of compliance to their generous donations. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art when I see it. I might not want to sleep with him, but a hot guy on stage is still a hot guy on stage. Hopefully he’ll use that money to buy a better instrument. He’s good, but that thing he’s got sounds like it’s pretty low quality.”
Haylen listened to the music, but couldn’t tell what Indigo had meant. She had good hearing. She was a half-elf after all. But nothing in the song sounded bad as far as she could tell.
“It sounds fine to me,” she said after giving up.
“It doesn’t maintain a consistent tune,” the homunculus explained, still watching the bard, or rather his lute intently. “When he plays a high note on a low string, it doesn’t sound the same as if he played the note on a higher string.”
Hayeln went back to listening, this time aware of what she was looking for. She could maybe hear it now, but she wasn’t familiar enough with any instrument to be sure that she could identify what Indigo was talking about.
“How do you know so much about music? I thought you said it was too risky to play anything in the necropolis?”
Indigo froze, and Haylen realized she may have just found another one of her “I don’t want to talk about it” topics. Instead, the girls head swiveled towards two men that were approaching their table.
They were older than Haylen, not quite into middle age, but just passing out of what could be called young. Neither were holding a mug, so they had most likely only shown up recently. Going by the cut of their clothes and their slicked-back hair, they fell into the category of wealthy merchants that normally sat in the booths with the nobles. Several of those booths were vacant, and so there was only one reason that these men would be coming up to them.
“Pardon me, Ladies. Do you mind if we join you at your table?”
He asked it as a question, but didn’t give them a chance to answer before they both sat down anyway, one next to Haylen, and the other by Indigo.
“Ah. Is it that time of night already? I thought we’d have a bit longer before anyone like this showed up.”
Haylen was used to this. More than any other half, half-elves had a reputation for promiscuity, and while it meant that she had no problems finding a fling, it still annoyed her when people thought it meant that she would sleep with anyone who asked. Haylen enjoyed sex, but it still made her more than a little angry when people assumed it was the only thing that existed in her head. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to break their fingers to get that message across.
Indigo, at least, understood that. The homunculus was a hedonist, but was able to respect personal boundaries. Haylen knew that Indigo would leap at the chance to get under her skirt, but never pushed it beyond some playful jokes or not-so-subtle hints of interest. Men like this tended to take a little more convincing.
Haylen was about to put her foot down and politely demand that the two men leave, but Indigo’s smile was now full of wicked mischief, and she paused.
“She knows why they’re here, right? She must have something in mind.”
This was confirmed when the girl opened her mouth, and nonsense fell out.
“他们是谁?他们为社么在这里?他们想和我们一起喝酒吗?我不喜欢他们。”
Was that her plan? Babble at them until they leave? No. Knowing Indigo, this was probably only the beginning, and Haylen was now very curious as to where it would go.
The two men paused and locked eyes, silently conferring with one another about whether the women of this table were worth pursuing. Did they really think the two girls were unaware of what they were doing? Idiots. Idiots the both of them.
“I apologize for my friend. She’s from outside the empire and is still learning our language.”
“And what even is that language? It doesn’t sound like the one she uses when she’s alone. How many languages does she actually know? All of them? Didn’t she say she can speak any language that she’s seen or heard?”
But… that gave Haylen an idea.
“You can understand me, right?” she asked, changing to the elven tongue.
Her mother had taught her many things, most of which should never have been taught to a child, but one of the few that were appropriate was the elven language. Haylen was rusty and out of practice since she rarely used it, but it would suffice.
Indigo twitched, but nodded.
“Yes. Warn me before you do something like that again though. Getting an entire language shoved into your head isn’t exactly comfortable. Should we send these guys away, or do you want to see if we can get a few drinks out of them?”
Indigo held a warm smile on her face the entire time. Haylen attempted to do the same.
“No drinks. That might encourage them. A bit of fun is fine though.”
The next half hour was spent rather amusingly. Indigo went back to talking energetically in whatever language she had been using, and it was entertaining to watch her pantomime her way through a conversation. She even managed to order a bowl of soup and another beer without anyone understanding what she was saying. The homunculus would babble in her mystery language, while tossing in just enough words from Northern Elvish to toss Haylen the occasional hint at what she was thinking.
The men, predictably, tried to pretend to be interested. Also predictably, they frequently encouraged Haylen and Indigo to drink as much as possible, while drinking little themselves.
From time to time she heard a snicker come from one of the other tables. They had heard Indigo speaking normally, and were watching the obvious farce as surreptitiously as they could.
When one of the men, she didn’t bother trying to remember their names, suggested they use the dice to play a drinking game. After five minutes, Haylen had to hold back her laughter. Indigo was cheating. She must have been. Every roll of the dice favored the women, and had the men buying refill after refill.
The men were more than a little handsy, and the way theycasually touched her hand, shoulder, and thigh, was beginning to annoy her enough that she might just pull her boot knife on them and end the whole thing then and there.
Just when Haylen began to expect them to fall out of their seats for how much they had drank, the one next to Indigo leaned over and made a universally understandable hand gesture. Then, much to her surprise, the homunculus practically crawled into his lap and let him carry her up the stairs.
“What? What?! That wasn’t part of the plan! That wasn’t part of the plan at all!”
True, Indigo had never actually said that she had a plan, but it had seemed pretty well agreed upon that sleeping with either of these men wasn’t how this night was supposed to end.
Was this revenge for the festival night? Was she really being left here to deal with this man by herself? That bitch! And this guy! As drunk as he was, and after seeing his friend leave successfully, he was unlikely to take, “No,” as an easy answer. His hand was already back on her thigh, and not-so-slowly moving towards his goal.
“Let’s have another drink,” Haylen said, practically tripping over her words in the rush to get them out.
Maybe she could get him drunk enough to pass out. She no longer knew what was happening, and needed to stall until she could regain some control of the situation. He happily tapped his mug to hers and took a drink, but then immediately brought the conversation back towards what she dreaded.
“How about we go up to my room. I have my own, so we won’t have to be bothered by our friends.”
“So soon? It’s still early. Let’s stay down here and have a few more rounds.”
“It is, but that only means there’s more time for fun. Perhaps we’ll be able to teach each other a few new tricks.”
“I think I would prefer to stay where I am.”
“But your friend is not here, and I expect she’ll be busy for quite a while. It would be a shame to let such a pretty young woman go home alone at this time of night.”
“I think I would prefer to stay where I am,” Haylen said again, and she took another sip of her beer to show just how willing she was to stay seated.
“Now now,” the man said, frowning like he was disciplining a spoiled child. “I know you halfs like to play hard to get, but we both know you’ll be enjoying yourself just fine in a few minutes. Come along now.”
His arm reached around her waist and gave a slight tug, but Haylen latched her legs to the bench and refused to budge. The man frowned for a moment, but then he grinned.
“Oh, I see. You like it rough then. I can do that. And here I thought Aus was the lucky one for getting your friend.”
He stood, and gave a pull on her arm, much harder than the first. At this point, most of the people around them were aware of what was happening. Some were looking the other way, trying to pretend that they didn’t see anything. A few though were slowly reaching for the nearest heavy object. Even the bard had stopped playing, and was glaring at the man, who was entirely unaware of the trouble he was about to find himself in.
That trouble came sooner than expected, in the form of a boot, moving upwards at a rapid pace, and connecting squarely between the man’s legs.
“She said, ‘no,’ you fuckwad! Now either go back to your room or get the fuck out, or there’ll be more where that came from!”
Indigo was standing behind the now collapsed and whimpering man.
“You little-”
Indigo hopped, and drove both of her feet into his stomach before lightly stepping off and standing over him once more.
“Room or out or pain. Pick one,” she said with a smile. It was shaped like a sickle, and was the exact opposite of anything that could be called friendly.
Slowly, the sawdust covered creep began to crawl towards the stairs. A slow clap started at one of the tables and was picked up at a few more. Indigo gave a theatrical bow.
“We’re all paid up right? We’re good?” Indigo called casually to one of the waitresses while motioning to Haylen and herself.
When a reply came in the affirmative, Indigo leaned down to the still seated Haylen.
“We should probably go somewhere else now. I just kicked a guy in the balls, and I may have given his friend a few mental scars. So, uh… Yah, we should probably go.”
Haylen leapt from her seat, and this time it was her turn to pull on someone’s arm as she left The Well at full speed. They departed to the sound of laughter and mocking jeers being directed at would-be hunter of women, who was still trying to crawl up the stairs.
As soon as they were out on the darkened streets, Haylen spun around and grabbed Indigo by the shoulders.
“Are you alright? What happened? What did you do?”
Indigo looked embarrassed and scratched at the back of her head before answering.
“I wanted to play a trick on my guy, but then I realized that I shouldn’t have left you alone down there so I came back.”
“And he just let you leave?”
“Well yah. He didn’t want me to stay.”
Haylen blinked. She checked the words she had just heard. Then she blinked again.
“What? He carried you up to his room! What do you mean he didn’t want you to stay?”
“Yah. He got me up there and told me to bend over. Then I told him to bend over, grew a pair of cocks, and whipped them out. They were bigger than his. Very intimidating. After that, he couldn’t get me to leave fast enough, and I came back down. Then I saw What’s-his-face being a fuckface, and thought it would be better to kick his ass before half the bar decided to kick his ass. So yah, it’s probably a good thing that we left when we did, and I’m sorry for leaving you like that.”
Haylen repeated her blink, think, blink pattern, and would have fallen to the ground in a fit of laughter if Indigo hadn’t caught her.
“You-! And he-! Did you actually tell him to bend over?”
Indigo’s grin split her face.
“I did, and oh you should have seen it! It was wonderful! He went limp in a heartbeat. I didn’t even know a guy could go soft so fast.”
Haylen was now laughing in a very unladylike manner, with every intake of breath being accompanied by a snort. She had known! She had known Indigo would do something crazy, and it had turned out even better than expected. Suddenly, her earlier panic at being left alone was worth it.
“Okay. I’m okay,” she said when she finally started to catch her breath.
Haylen stood, staggered, and was reminded of just how inebriated she really was. She had only had a few puffs, but that had been resin that Inigo put into the pipe. And how many drinks had she had? A lot? Probably a lot. Indigo, despite propping her up, looked just as unsteady.
“Come on,” Haylen said, pulling Indigo in a random direction. “I know another place. Maybe we’ll meet some people that we don’t mind sleeping with. And if that doesn’t work… Fuck it. If you can promise me that you won’t fuck her, I’ll take you to the brothel that my mother works at. It’s expensive, but they’ll give us a discount.”
“Wouldn’t it be awkward going to your mom’s brothel?”
“Meh. You get used to it. I know most of the people that work there anyway.”
“That only makes it weirder, but… screw it. I’m in.”
“What’s weird is that you can so casually talk about growing a penis. Two of them!? Really? Why would you even need two?”
“It’s one of the benefits of being a shapeshifter, and you’d be surprised. I mean, if you can grow one, why not two? Mayra’s friends certainly weren’t complaining.”
“What? How would that even work?”
“Well, if you want to skip the brothel, I’d be happy to show you.”
“No such luck. But maybe we can share a room and I’ll let you try and convince me.”
“Tease.”
“Slut.”
“We are.”
There were few people out on the streets at this hour, but many of them stopped as the two women passed, unsure if they had heard what they thought they had heard. Haylen and Indigo, both holding the other for support, but still unable to walk in a straight line, wandered off into the city to see where the night might take them, because the night was young indeed.