The night was darkening around her; the wild winds coldly blew and the clouds in the sky shielded the earth from being illuminated by the moon’s light. A lone figure stumbled through the woodlands around Marigold until it had reached a spot so secluded and forlorn that it felt safe to remove the cloak from its body. The woman underneath the black veil was drenched in sweat; exhaustion marked her features and she fell onto her knees, bent over the nearest tree stump and threw up her last meal. The Voidling’s body convulsed, her hands clenched into fists and every rune on her skin was glowing in its usual purple hue. Memories of past lives flooded her mind and kept her awake at the everlasting feeling of suffocation. Hours went by until it finally had separated itself from her, tore the earth open and disappeared into the void.
“I look like a slutty tavern girl,” she moaned while looking herself up and down in the mirror; her hair had darkened visibly – it was almost black now, and curled at the tips. Nuala Nazari’s skin had gained a noticeable tan and faint freckles graced her now naturally blush-kissed cheeks. Her eyes were the same, striking amethyst in colour. The marks that defined her had disappeared entirely and overall the otherwise hauntingly beautiful Voidling had become overwhelmingly human.
“That’s the point. The tips will be well worth it,” the other woman in the room responded while tightening the corset around Nuala’s waist. “Besides, you’re only ever here once a year, might as well make it worth my while,” she spoke, her voice hoarse from all the pipes she had smoked over the years. Nuala’s attire was rather shameless, and almost skimpy even–Sahael had forced her into a sultry tavern dress, without underwear and plenty of cleavage to prove it. Her trusty dagger was still strapped around her now bare thigh (more an accessory than a weapon at this moment) and before she could protest, she was doused in perfume which threw her into a sneezing fit. Nuala was given a pair of golden bracelets to accessorize with before Sahael shoved the poor girl through the door and into the bar, where she would have to work until her condition improved.
Next year I’ll just bury myself in a coffin for a week like the vampires do.
As the hours went by, Nuala realized that things weren’t too bad after all; both gold and beer were flowing, the guests were in a delightful mood, music was playing and it was beautiful night. Every once in a while, the now-human girl caught herself getting lost in thoughts about the Captain, where he was and what he was doing in these moments–she hated having to leave him behind so soon after finally being intimate with one another, but it was most certainly easier than having to explain to him what was currently going on with her.
Nuala had been fiddling around with something in the back of the bar for a while now, when Sahael called out to her to bring out a new bottle of syrup. Obedient as she was, the dark-haired woman snatched what she believed to be a bottle of syrup and came back out. “I think this is the last one–what do you even need it for?” The bar owner responded by gesturing towards a pile of pancakes and as Nuala poured the golden liquid over it, she even attempted to create a heart-shaped pattern. “Who the fuck orders pancakes at a bar?” Sahael shrugged. “Some baby-faced guy in traditional attire at table 5, I don’t fucking know,” she shrugged it off in her usual, dismissive manner and bright laughter escaped Nuala’s lips, who took the plate of pancakes and went on her merry way.
With swaying hips and an uncharacteristically sunny disposition, the woman skipped over to table 5, dropped two beers off somewhere else beforehand and was about to place the pancakes on top of the table, when her eyes locked fell on the man sitting at it–and the world around her froze. He stared at her as if she’d lost her damn mind and in these moments of not knowing what to do, she might as well had. “Oh.” Nuala’s body was immediately drawn towards the Captain, her gaze fell on his lips but instead of giving in to her instincts, the woman gently dropped the plate onto the table, slid it over to him and turned on her heel to flee the scene. The woman grabbed her dress and rushed out of the bar–not without running into at least 2 other guests and one chair on her way–swung the door open, slammed it close behind herself and tried her hardest to disappear into the nearest alley.
Last edited by Nuala on Wed May 20, 2020 4:31 am; edited 2 times in total