Teaching the young is never easy

[Alira Drakrul]

(Story is for the character Cirilia Laeisae)


Footsteps. Sigh.

Step, step and pause. Step, step and pause. Double sigh.

Why must they always attempt to be sneaky? Its like so impossible against me. I always imagine some enormous bull in a tutu with slippers tip toeing through a field of mice. Each step a shriek almost deafening in my ears as each pebble and blade of grass scream their path as they attempt their crappy waltz of secrecy. What ****nuts.

Sigh again. Oh well, I'll play the damsel. Head down and unobservant. Slight shiver as if I'm paying more attention to the cold than him. Pause and wait three seconds and then give a look around at the opposite direction as if I'm still wary, but apparently not wary enough.

Step, step and pause. Step, step, step and pause.

Good, he's taken the bait. Pull the shawl over my head to better obstruct my view and begin to walk down a poorly lit alley. That ought stroke his fire and encourage him even more. Come along little boy, let's play.

Step, step, step, step, shuffle, step and pause.

Bingo. About mother ****ing time. I have better things to do than this educational nonsense. He's almost there. I find myself mentally coaxing him on as some sweet adoring mother might baby-talk their carpet monkey as it takes its first steps.

Step, step - That's right. Good boy. - step, shuffle, pause - Almost there. You can do it. - step, step, pause, step - Whosa my little man? Yousa my little man.

I pause in my own steps to give him a chance to make his move and he takes the bait as if I had dangled some sweet meat to satisfy his lust.

Classic hand around my throat and a knife tip pressed against my skin. "Don't move or I'll cut your throat."

Eyeroll. Oh by the nine hells, don't any of these mother ****ing guys have any creativity? I mean seriously. Do they all get born with some manual jammed up their ass with the script that they must give each time?

"What are you wearing under that pretty little dress of yours?"

I can feel him harden slightly against my rear as he speaks. Anticipation. The glorious human aphrodisiac. Huh. What am I wearing? Damn, I should have taken an inventory before I left on the fishing expedition. I wiggle myself to get a sense of the fabric of my undergarments, the movements only furthering his excitement as he believes I'm gonna put up a fight. That's what he wants after all. Something to conquer.

"Cotton comfy stuff. That's a totally different thing than silk comfy stuff, by the way. Have we met?"

There's a slight pause. "Don't **** with me, I'll take you to your house and I will tear you up."

Mental yawn. Great. He's new at this. He doesn't even have the balls to do it in this dark alley at two hours past midnight. I mean how much more perfect does it get. The guards are sleeping off their midnight brew near the bank and the shops surrounding us have long been deserted as their humans have scampered home to hide by their warm hearths as the cold of night creeps up on them. Well, time for his rude awakening.

"Cool. Do you have a quill and ink? Here's my directions. The sooner we get there, the sooner this will be over. I'm kinda in a hurry tonight ya know, don't want to spend all night with you trying to balance the knife at my throat and figuring out where to put your little man."

I can feel him tense with that response. It wasn't what he was expecting so I continue.

"Wait…first thing, it's embarrassing, but I do have to ask first. Are you a GOOD rapist? I mean, a really GOOD one? How big are you and how long will you last? We should stop and get some liquor on the way there... I have a feeling I'll need to be really drunk to be even remotely impressed. Oh yes, and towels its gonna get REALLY messy."

Dead silence and his body is frozen in disbelief as he continues to listen.

"My orgasms take a very long time and I have yet to find a rapist that really understands me. I've been disappointed before. Do you have a heart condition? Do you like to cuddle? I ****ing hate cuddling. When you're done you're just going to have to leave."

I can feel him go limp against my rear. Complete stall. The guy's trying to turn the key and he can't get the motor going. I start to smile.

"No, really. Can I come visit you? Where do you live? I have silk, I promise. It tears easy. You don't seem very committed. Do you have…you know…a problem?"

The tone in his voice changes. "You are one ****ed up pancake."

"I know."

His grip loosens as he takes a few steps back and glares as I turn around. Sexual frustration and disbelief. I blow a kiss at him and wink once. His eyes widen. Smiling, I open my mouth some as the low moonlight reflects off the surface of my teeth. He drops his knife and it clatters against the cobblestone.

Another wink and there he goes - running down the alley, over - no, wait - damn he almost made it over that garbage can. Scramble, scramble, trip, scramble and slide. I laugh loudly as I watch and begin to follow him as he begins the chase. DEATH TAG! SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY! I laugh again and call out as his shoulder hits the brick wall as he zigs when he should have zagged.

"I'm it!! Game rules. No bases. No pleading for your life and try to make this at least somewhat entertaining."

He finally makes it around the corner as I continue my steady walk after him.

"Ollie Ollie Oxen free..."

 

[Alira Drakrul]

(Again, posted as Cirilia)

I opened the door slightly and then kicked it open the rest of the way. It swung open, loudly bouncing off the edge of the stone wall. "Hey there pup," I shouted at the blue haired girl, "How the **** are ya?"

She spun around in surprise, "Cirilia?" I nodded to her as she continued, "I ... uh.... am... the ****... fine?" Her voice lifted at the end as if questioning the appropriateness of her response.

"Fantastic! Let's get started. This is gonna be awesome. " as I motioned her to follow her upstairs.

We entered the library and there was the man from the alley sitting in one of two chairs, looking a bit bewildered. As we entered he started to get out of the chair, "I really think I should be going Lady..."

I got his eyes with mine with a smile. "Oh hell no, Gunther. (Sit) your ass down." my voice emphasized the word "Sit" as I commanded him. He sat, still looking bewildered and confused as if his **** for brains was trying to wrap his head around why he hadn't run yet. Fan-****ing-tastic. "Did you bring what I told you to?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Great! Now start putting them out near ya." I turned to Reagan who was watching the whole scene, obviously uncomfortable. "This is gonna be awesome. You go sit over there next to him." Reagan paused, still unsure what she was walking into as Gunther was pulling bottle after bottle out of a large bag. Whiskey. Bourbon. Ale. A horde of bottles filling the floor and nearby table, the glass clinking as Gunther's hands shook slightly. Reagan threaded her way gracefully through the bottles to sit in a chair near him. "(Stop) Gunther." I commanded as I looked at the dozens of bottles spread out around him.

I turned my head to Reagan, "Now you know that **** that grandmother gave you, ****ing awesome right? Well it gets better because you can actually use it as a tool to do **** with." I moved as I spoke, bringing my wrist up to my mouth and gnashing the **** out of it. My sharp teeth ripped into the flesh, leaving a wound like a chasm. No blood welled up in the injury. When I got to her side, I shoved my wrist in her face, "Drink. Don't worry, you're gonna need a lot for what I'm gonna teach ya. Gunther is gonna help us out if you need more later. " Gunther blinked a few times as if trying to shake off the haze, but then just sat there like the useless meatbag he was.

Reagan delicately took my wrist in her hands and tentatively wrapped her lips around the jagged wound and delicately sucked. As she slowly pulled the first mouthful, her eyes fluttered as that feeling of warmth began to creep inside her core. ****. I looked up at the ceiling and to the bookshelf, my eyes reading the titles off the spines of its contents. Bored. Bored. SO BORED. This is gonna take ****ing forever. Reagan because to gently take another mouthful, "Damn pup, just drink. You're not gonna hurt me. " She pulled a bit harder on my wrist as I groaned in boredom induced agony. I'm gonna die of old age the way this kid is drinking and being immortal that's saying something. I tapped my foot, waved to Gunther, started mentally counting books on the shelves... 24...25....26 until my brain nearly exploded. "**** this, " I said aloud. I looked down at Reagan who was dutifully working on her third or fourth mouthful, I had lost count but it wasn't much. With a deep sigh, I forced my vitae to the wound and pushed it towards her unsuspecting mouth. Her eyes widened as she quickly swallowed four or five mouthfuls as she tried not to choke. "There we go, " I said as I pulled my wrist away, the injury quickly sealing itself from the inside out.

pancake was high as a kite as she grinned at me. ****. I probably should have instructed her before I made her drink. "Hey! Hey pup! Listen up, " I said as I snapped my fingers at her. Reagan raised her eyes and looked up at me and smiled wide. Yep. Should have ****ing instructed her before that. I studied her physical state a moment. An apparently I gave her too much. ****. Oh well, it is what it is. "Now listen the **** up, pup" Yep, I rhymed. I'm awesome. "This is important. You're probably closed to overdosing on vitae at the moment so that's lesson #1. Don't drink that much vitae unless you're gonna burn it off. " I took a step back and moved over behind Gunther, "Let's get started. You two, start drinking!" Reagan reached for a bottle and began slowly drinking as Gunther hesitated, "(Drink) Gunther". He quickly followed suit and began chugging the menagerie of booze surround him.

Empty bottles began dropping to the wood floor like flies. They were getting intoxicated as the alcohol began to process in their bodies. Gunther was chugging as if his drinking had some end purpose. Probably trying to kill himself for being such a waste of of a person. Total creep. His eyelids drooped and his head rolled to one side as his hand dropped the bottle he was holding. It's dark contents spilled across the wood floor as he lost consciousness. Reagan snickered a bit and pointed. I grinned at her as she continued drinking, but I could tell she was becoming heavily intoxicated. I waited a few minutes as if to allow his liver to distill his blood with the liquor a bit more. Then I put my hand on the side of his head to hold it down and leaned over and bit deep into his neck and drank deeply. Gunther didn't even flinch, as I felt the fiery alcohol infused blood slide down my throat. **** yes. Like mother ****ing copper coins on my tongue. I missed the feeling of being drunk. Nothing in the world mattered in that moment as I stole the man's life into my mouth. As I greedily drank, I could hear his heartbeat flutter in his chest like a scared bird attempting to flee its mortal cage. **** you, Gunther.

I lifted my head sharply with a gasp of delight. A tiny trickle of blood trailing from the corner of my mouth as I closed my eyes. Goddamn I missed this feeling. Okay, okay... gotta focus on the pup. I looked up at Reagan reluctantly. She was looking a bit odd as if she wasn't sure what she was seeing. "You drunk yet, girl? " I asked. She giggled. She's drunk. "Yep, you're drunk. Right so... " I shoved Gunther's lifeless corpse off the chair and onto the floor in front of it. Bottles, both full and empty, broke and scattered as his body slumped unceremoniously upon them. Reagan looked down, paused and then giggled.

I walked around the chair, stepping upon the corpse as I saw down in the chair it has once occupied. "Stay, Gunther!" I commanded with a laugh. "Alright now, the trick is you got **** in your that isn't supposed to be there. Alcohol if you drink enough is a poison, so yea, you're ****ed at the moment. "

"Not as ****ed as he is, " Reagan giggled again.

I laughed out loud as I thought to myself. Alright, we can't let this one die. I lifted a finger and waggled it at her, "Now listen. If you die, grandmother will kill me... and that will suck... because I'll be ...." my intoxicated mind searched for the correct verbage, "I'll be dead... more dead... deaded..ed.. "

"Like Gunther." she finished my sentence

I laughed again, "Yeah like that. So don't do.... be a Gunther and be dead." She giggled. "Now, you gotta imagine your vitae absorbing the **** that shouldn't be there. If you don't do this, you're gonna pull a Gunther." I continued flopping my index finger at her.

"Got it." Reagan grimaced and looked like she was trying to **** her pants. God I hope she doesn't do that. That **** is not in my job description. Reagan's face flushed as she talked aloud to herself. "Burn... the ****. Stuff doesn't belong. Contrant...Concernta... Concentrate."

I watched her carefully despite still feeling drunk as **** myself. If she couldn't do this than she was gonna be a ****ty guard. You always had to break a few eggs before making an omelette. Grandmother would be pissed, but she's return to the logic hopefully before she killed me for my error. Should I embrace her? I better ask. I concentrated on the mental link that ran through my sire to Alira. "So... ummm... if she doesn't figure this **** out, do you want me to embrace her or do you want to? Or... do I just let her drop."

The waves of calm that flowed down that link faltered and skipped for a moment as her voice entered my head. "W'at do ye mean? Elaborate"

"So if she kicks her mortal coil. Pushes up the daisies. Meets her maker. I mean, I think she's gonna totally rock this **** out, but ya know... if she ****s up or something, " I responded, attempting to keep my thoughts concise and not give my grandsire any indication just how ****ing drunk I was.

"Isn't it yer job t'make sure she does nay '****' up?" Alira asked with a cool tone.

"Well, yea... I suppose... but you can't always control these kine. "

"I would strongly suggest ye try harder. I don't like makin' mistakes... an' if my placement o' ye in this task was in error... I will be most displeased at the situation." Alira said.

"Yes, Grandmother" I mentally projected and then refocused my attention on Reagan. Luckily for me, her eyes looked a bit clearer as she continued to concentrate. I think she had figured it out. I kicked my feet out, propping them on the slouched back of Gunther's corpse as I crossed my ankles and leaned back into the comfy chair.

"I think I .... I have figured it out. "

"Good job! " I said. I continued to watch her eyes get clearer and listened to her heart rate return to normal from its muffled slowness previously. I then watched her turn a slight greenish color, lean forward and vomit on that poor ****'s head. I picked up feet as she emptied the contents of her stomach and desecrated his corpse with sour booze and bile. "That'll help too, " I encouraged her. I put my heels back down on his vomit splattered back as Reagan leaned back in the chair, groaning. "Well done. It looks like we won't have to bury you after all. Soon as you can walk without killing yourself, go downstairs to sleep the rest of the **** out of your system. " I yelled down at the floor, "Hey Caprice... I got a job for ya... "

 

[Alira Drakrul]

(An' again... from Cirilia's point of view)

I didn't drain our courier dry. That would have been frowned on by Grandmother as her term of service was almost complete and she would be released soon. I just got her ****faced drunk as a sailor on shore leave and took a large sample to top off my own high. Now I was ****ing wasted. I stumbled around the library, knocking over bottles. I was in no danger of dying from the level of alcohol-infused blood in my body, but goddamn was I ****ed up. Could I have cured it? Absolutely, but why should I waste this sweet treat.

I stumbled out of the library, bumping my shoulder roughly against the door frame. I fumbled with my runebook again and succeeded in finding one, although it was not my main book. I blinked several times as the inscription next to the blue gems wavered in and out of focus. "Ah, **** it... " I said aloud and touched one of the blue gems at random and activated one of the charges on the runebook.

One should never drink and recall.

I blinked a few times as I took in my surroundings. I was surrounded by thick stone walls, the smell of sulphur and mildew mixing harshly in my wrinkled nose. The room had a thick haze of black smoke, drifting from a couple braziers that eluded my drunken gaze. "Someone is smoking like a goddamn chimney... " I murmured as I stumbled further into the room. I could make out a few shapes through the choking haze. I belched and exclaimed, "Tastes like Gunther!" I then blinked as I saw a large dog creep along the edge of one wall. What the ****. My eyes narrowed as I squinted at the dog which appeared to have smoke coming off its fur as if it was smoldering after being set on fire. I smirked smugly giving a bob of my head as I nodded to myself, "About time someone set one of those mongrels on fire... " I continued, catching faint outlines of what appeared to be gargoyles out of the corner of my eye. I shrugged and continued, after all I'd had seen quite a few of the gargoyles from Ter Mur.

Finally, I see a large, shadowy figure come into view ahead of her. "Thank god... a bartender, " she murmured. I raised my voice to the shadowy figure, "Hey! I'd like to order two humans!" The large figure stiffened slightly as I stumbled towards it. "Hey, I'm talking to you, ****face!" I yelled. The Balron turned around slowly, expanding its wings slowly as it snorted. "Man, you're a big ****ing gargie thing, aren't you?" I said as I looked up at it as it towered over me.

The Balron looked down at me with another snort as black, sooty smoke steamed from its nostrils. "Do you know who I am? I am the Lord of the Abyss... Overlord of Hythloth... Collector of Souls... Slayer of..." his voice boomed loudly as the foul stench of his breath wafted over me.

I fanned the air, coughing. I raised her voice interrupting the balron, "Goddamn, you could drop a raging gamen with that breath. You need to stick a peppermint stick in the rank mouth of yours, shut the hell up and get me some hot piece of ass. Humans are life's way of keeping food fresh!"

The Balron looked at me in shock. It stamped one of it hooves against the ground and bellowed spraying me with drops of foamy spittle, "I am the Lord of the Abyss, Overlord of ..."

"Alright, I got it. I got it. Say it, don't spray it, " I said in disgust as I wiped the droplets from my tunic. "Alright, Mr. Lord of the Abyss... you obviously suffer from some illusions of grandeur so I'll play along. If you're the Lord of the Abyss, why don't you make yourself useful and wija-dija me a nice one."

"The balron blinked, "A nice one?"

"You heard me. A nice one... a drunk human. Look, just get me a human, pour something to drink... whiskey... rum, whatever down their ****ing throat.. The longer it takes for me to start drinking, the more sober I'm gonna get... and we both know the more sober I am, the uglier you're gonna get... so save us both some pain and quit slacking," I said as I began to look around for a place to sit.

The Balron roared and backhanded me sending me flying into the wall. I cried out as my body barreled into the stone wall. I slowly got up, pulling out my kryss and beginning to stalk towards the raging Balron, "I'm gonna stab the ugly right out of ya. " We clashed in a flurry of motion as the thick smoke of the room swirled around us. The fight carried on for a good twenty minutes, each of us retreating to heal ourselves before we charged back in.

There was a loud thud as the balron collapsed against the floor as I stumbled over to it. I thrust my kryss into one of its eyes and then staggered back with several deep claw marks across my tunic that had penetrated my defenses.My dark armor smoldered from the fire spells that had scorched the thick leather. "I told you to get me a drink... but no you just had to try some of that kinky role-play ******** on me." I spat blood on the Balron's corpse as I sheathed her kryss. I pulled out a runebook and smacked my palm randomly on the face of the book. A gem activated as the charged book caused her world to shimmer.

By some sheer stroke of luck, I had hit the rune for the haven. I stumbled in the door on the ground level and into the entry way. I took a few steps before falling to my knees as my stomach heaved all its contents upon the stone floor. After the heaving was over, I looked down at the bloody mess, burped and promptly passed out in my own vomit as the first rays of dawn broke the horizon.
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