Post by Embry Pontifex on May 20, 2017 9:45:40 GMT -7
"Go home, Embry, you're drunk."
Embry groaned, sagging a little from her position up high. She was standing on top of one of the tables, drink in hand, singing out to one of the lousy old tracks someone had put on the jukebox. It was a rowdy tune, a bit inappropriate, but she loved it anyway. It had soothed both her babies when she sang it, twirling around with the baby on her hips and turning their tears to laughs. They'd both had these laughs, her kids, which touched at something deep in her heart and made it sing like nothing else did.
Of course, now both of her kids were gone. Quirinus was lost to the Hunger Games, Sabina to the sea. Both were her own fault.
Hull, the barkeep, wasn't wrong when he said she was drunk. Really, Hull would be right about 90% of the time right now. Drink was the only thing that helped keep the demons at bay. She was 34 years old and had lost every reason there was to live, but was too much of a coward to take her life herself. Her clients didn't want her anymore, because she was too unpredictable. She'd be exactly what they wanted one minute, then her demure act would turn dominatrix or her aggressive play would dissolve into racking sobs. Without work, without a home, without her sweet Quirinus and Sabina, without the man she'd thought she loved, she was nothing but a vessel for drink.
Embry slid down on the table until she was on her hands and knees, facing Hull and the rest of the small crowd. "I thought you boys were enjoying the show," she said with a purr, half of her mouth rising into a grin. She crawled forward until her fingers were on the edge of the table. "One of you lucky fellas could take me home and continue the show back at your place." Her eyes scanned the crowd as she said this, hoping to catch the eye of one who would take her up on the deal. Going home with one of them would give her work, and a place to sleep for the night. It might even give her something to eat, and if they were drunk enough, she could take a little more from them without their noticing. She didn't want word to get around that she was a thief, but if she never stole, she couldn't drink.
A few men met her eyes, but none came forward to accept the offer. After a tense moment, Hull stepped out from behind the bar and hauled her up off the table. She fought him, feebly, as he righted her on the ground and started marching her to the door. "We all feel sorry for the loss of that boy of yours," Hull muttered to her as they walked, "but you're scaring my patrons, Em. Just go home and get some sleep."
The air was cool and salty on her skin as Hull pulled her outside. He released her just beyond the door and gave her a small pat on the shoulder before turning back to the bar. She could have followed him back in, caused enough trouble that he literally had to throw her out, but the early evening air really did feel good on her skin. The last rays of the sun had painted the sky a brilliant collage of pinks and purples, and if she listened, she could hear the call of the sea out beyond this center of the city. She was a land girl herself, but there was nothing quite like the pull of the waves no matter who you were.
On shaky legs, Embry took a few steps forward. Her heels clicked loudly on the stones, and she had no idea where she was going. She'd sold her sad excuse for a home months ago, and if she couldn't find someone else's bed to warm, she had to be a little more creative. On her next step, her ankle twisted and she went down hard to the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth as pain passed through her body, but that wasn't what bothered her most. What bothered her most was that she probably had herself a crowd now, people watching the woman who'd gotten drunk before dinner and laughing. She had immediately started trying to pull herself up when she saw shoes in front of her. She paused for a moment, reaching out to touch them to make sure they were real. Too often, she saw ghosts, but the shoes at least felt solid. She squeezed a little just to check. Then, she rolled on her back and looked up at the face that belonged to those shoes. She smiled just a little, forgetting for a moment about the blood and bruises. "Why, hello there," she began, then lifted one of her arms up almost daintily. "Help a lady up?"
WC: 829
Tag: Open to anyone!
Embry groaned, sagging a little from her position up high. She was standing on top of one of the tables, drink in hand, singing out to one of the lousy old tracks someone had put on the jukebox. It was a rowdy tune, a bit inappropriate, but she loved it anyway. It had soothed both her babies when she sang it, twirling around with the baby on her hips and turning their tears to laughs. They'd both had these laughs, her kids, which touched at something deep in her heart and made it sing like nothing else did.
Of course, now both of her kids were gone. Quirinus was lost to the Hunger Games, Sabina to the sea. Both were her own fault.
Hull, the barkeep, wasn't wrong when he said she was drunk. Really, Hull would be right about 90% of the time right now. Drink was the only thing that helped keep the demons at bay. She was 34 years old and had lost every reason there was to live, but was too much of a coward to take her life herself. Her clients didn't want her anymore, because she was too unpredictable. She'd be exactly what they wanted one minute, then her demure act would turn dominatrix or her aggressive play would dissolve into racking sobs. Without work, without a home, without her sweet Quirinus and Sabina, without the man she'd thought she loved, she was nothing but a vessel for drink.
Embry slid down on the table until she was on her hands and knees, facing Hull and the rest of the small crowd. "I thought you boys were enjoying the show," she said with a purr, half of her mouth rising into a grin. She crawled forward until her fingers were on the edge of the table. "One of you lucky fellas could take me home and continue the show back at your place." Her eyes scanned the crowd as she said this, hoping to catch the eye of one who would take her up on the deal. Going home with one of them would give her work, and a place to sleep for the night. It might even give her something to eat, and if they were drunk enough, she could take a little more from them without their noticing. She didn't want word to get around that she was a thief, but if she never stole, she couldn't drink.
A few men met her eyes, but none came forward to accept the offer. After a tense moment, Hull stepped out from behind the bar and hauled her up off the table. She fought him, feebly, as he righted her on the ground and started marching her to the door. "We all feel sorry for the loss of that boy of yours," Hull muttered to her as they walked, "but you're scaring my patrons, Em. Just go home and get some sleep."
The air was cool and salty on her skin as Hull pulled her outside. He released her just beyond the door and gave her a small pat on the shoulder before turning back to the bar. She could have followed him back in, caused enough trouble that he literally had to throw her out, but the early evening air really did feel good on her skin. The last rays of the sun had painted the sky a brilliant collage of pinks and purples, and if she listened, she could hear the call of the sea out beyond this center of the city. She was a land girl herself, but there was nothing quite like the pull of the waves no matter who you were.
On shaky legs, Embry took a few steps forward. Her heels clicked loudly on the stones, and she had no idea where she was going. She'd sold her sad excuse for a home months ago, and if she couldn't find someone else's bed to warm, she had to be a little more creative. On her next step, her ankle twisted and she went down hard to the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth as pain passed through her body, but that wasn't what bothered her most. What bothered her most was that she probably had herself a crowd now, people watching the woman who'd gotten drunk before dinner and laughing. She had immediately started trying to pull herself up when she saw shoes in front of her. She paused for a moment, reaching out to touch them to make sure they were real. Too often, she saw ghosts, but the shoes at least felt solid. She squeezed a little just to check. Then, she rolled on her back and looked up at the face that belonged to those shoes. She smiled just a little, forgetting for a moment about the blood and bruises. "Why, hello there," she began, then lifted one of her arms up almost daintily. "Help a lady up?"
WC: 829
Tag: Open to anyone!